#i have been messing with this goddamn LED wall for 20 hours

[wizard-mp4]

MURDER MURDER KILL KILL KILL

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

A Beautiful Darkness (3)

Summary: Bucky and Steve meet another super soldier with a dark past and an unpredictable vicious nature. Both are drawn inexplicably to the woman who was now temporarily joining their team to help take down an enemy that had once again reared its ugly head.

Fandoms: Avengers

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: SMUT (DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE BELOW 18), Angst, Dry Dark Humour, Unapologetic Violence, Gore, Lots of Blood, Lots of Cussing, Torn Limbs, Biscuit Thievery, Choking, Unprotected Sex (don’t be an idiot. use protection. always!), All the Kinks, All the Sin, Degradation, Sub-Dom Themes, Forced Orgasms, Oversensitivity, Just Filth

A/N: I need a moment. I’m screaming! And I wrote this mess. Nomad Steve Rogers just hits different.

Masterlist

3: The Control of a Captain

Your feet tapped incessantly on the floor and you cracked your knuckles repeatedly. You sighed in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour.

"Steve," you groaned as you banged your head against the wall. You closed your eyes as you continued to fidget with a Rubik's Cube. You had solved and resolved the damn thing 47 times already. You wanted to chuck it out the window at this point.

"Yeah?"

"I'm so fucking bored."

He chuckled as he continued to watch the building two streets down. The plan was to pretend to still believe the lies Hydra were planting, sending a small group to the decoy bases and purposely failing to get anything of worth. Another group dug up intel the traditional way outside of the SHIELD and Avengers network which meant physically stalking possible leads. You and Steve had unluckily drawn stakeout duty on Allan Levy's supposed hideout.

Logically it made sense to have you there. You were both too recognizable to trail people, but if the lead turned out true and you were made then you could easily hold the frontline until the rest arrived. But you were just so bored. You had been watching the goddamn building for two days now and there has been no movement or suspicious activity. You were praying for some kind of gun fight to break out. Anything to break the monotony. You would settle for a minor fist fight or even a drug deal. Anything.

"Sorry I'm not more pleasant company," he teased.

You snorted. If anything the only redeeming quality of this assignment was his presence. You appreciated the fact that he had grown out his hair and beard again. There was just something about him this way that lent a magnetic dangerous edge to him, far from the apple pie Captain America that the public first met. He looked more than just a damn snack, he was a full course meal of a man. If only the brooding Captain wasn't such a professional then you would definitely be taking advantage of his pleasant company. He was on mission mode though; focused on the task handed to him and always poised to fight at a moment's notice.

"Can we at least play a game please?" you pleaded. "Play with me, Steve."

There was now a wicked glint in your eyes when you saw his jaw tick at your choice of words. He wasn't as unaffected by you as he led on.

"Let's play truth or dare," you suggested.

He shook his head immediately. He had only just met you, but he could easily guess how quickly that game can escalate with you involved. You whined again and the sound was starting to stir less than appropriate things in Steve.

"Fine. 20 questions then. I'm sure there are plenty of things you would like to know about me and I have a few for you too."

He mulled it over. He looked through his binoculars once more and saw nothing at the enemy's hideout. Even the audio surveillance you had planted was returning nothing good. The game seemed harmless enough and even he had to admit that he was getting bored as well. He nodded and you squealed in delight. 

"Awesome! I'll go first," you said. "Are you fucking Bucky?"

He choked on air. He was sorely mistaken. This game was not harmless. Apparently nothing was with you.

"What?" he spluttered, his face turning red. "No. Why would you ask that?"

"I don't want to step on anyone's toes or anything because I for one am definitely fucking Bucky," you shrugged. "And that counts as your question so my turn again. Have you ever shared a woman with Bucky?"

Steve's earns burned and he was sure he looked red as a tomato with your unexpected line of questioning. He has never been asked these types of questions and he wasn't sure how to react. You were so blunt and direct that it completely threw him off.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N. What is with your questions?" He shook his head and cleared his throat. "No, I have never shared a woman with Bucky."

"Would you like to start now?"

Steve felt like all the oxygen in his body had been drained from him. He couldn't believe that his best friend's girl was asking him these questions. He was having an internal battle, struggling between his moral compass saying he shouldn't overstep with a woman who was clearly not his and his more baser instincts telling him you would look even more beautiful choking on his cock.

You took great pleasure in how flustered he had become. He looked downright scandalized by your questions. Taking advantage of the opportunity while he was trying to decide on how to respond, you made your way to him with slow deliberate steps. He watched the sultry sway of your hips and the inviting sparkle in your eyes. His brain short circuited when you wound your arms around his shoulders and straddled him.

Steve's eyes dilated and you could hear the pounding of his chest. You ran a hand through his soft blonde hair, purposely dragging your nails just the tiniest bit on his scalp. You purred and pressed your hips further down on his growing erection. His own hands moved on their own to grip your ass. He was hypnotized by your scent and the feel of your warm body against his.

"Bucky was right. You respond better to a more direct approach."

He snapped out of the spell you put him under and froze under you. He looked angry and hurt for a moment. "Bucky put you up to this?"

"No one puts me up to anything, Steve," you chuckled. You ran your hands on his hard chest and wide shoulders until he relaxed once more. "But Bucky did say that you would prefer a direct and honest proposition."

He started to melt back into the haze with each stroke of your hands and wind of your hips. You smiled sweetly as you saw his eyes glaze over.

"You haven't answered my question." He shivered when you nibbled on his ear. "Would you like to share me with your best pal, Captain?"

That did it. His pupils blew up until only a thin blue ring remained. You smirked. It seemed like America's golden boy had a few kinks you were surely going to enjoy exploring.

His hand shot up to fist your hair, pushing you down to crash your lips to his. His tongue forced your mouth open and you moaned at how dominating he was. His other hand gripped tight on your hip, keeping you in place as he thrust his straining cock against your clothed core. You struggled to catch your breath when he roughly pulled you apart. Your clothes felt restricting and the fabric was burning your skin. His eyes on you were predatory.

"Tell me you want this, sweetheart," he said his voice gravelly. "Because once I start I'm not going to stop."

You were careful to keep eye contact to reassure him that you trusted him completely. To assure him that he didn't need to hold back. Not with you. Never with you.

"I want this. I need you, Steve."

The growl he let out was animalistic and you felt the vibrations as he conquered your mouth once more. You barely registered the sound of him hurriedly unbuckling his belt until he had pulled you off again and your mouth watered at the sight of his freed cock.

"On your knees," he commanded.

"Yes, Captain."

You slid off him and obeyed; on your knees, hands behind your back, patiently waiting for his next instructions. His cock grew impossibly harder at the sight of you. You were the human equivalent of a violent wildfire and yet here you were, still and compliant. For him. He gripped his cock and painted your lips with its wet tip.

"Open that pretty mouth for your Captain."

You opened up slowly not breaking eye contact. Both of you had assumed wrong about the other. You thought Steve would gradually feed you his sizeable member, but instead he rammed the entire thing into you until it hit the back of your throat. On instinct you pushed at his thighs but he held you in place by the back of your head. He moaned loudly when you choked and swallowed around him.

Steve thought you would look beautiful gagging on his cock but now that he's actually seen it you looked fucking ethereal. He pulled out leaving a trail of spit. You only had a moment to take a few gasping breaths before he was abusing your mouth once more.

"Good girl. You're taking my cock so well, sweetheart."

You preened at his praise, feeling yourself soak through your panties. He held your head in place with both hands as he fucked your mouth, the brutal pace making your eyes water. You relaxed your throat and stuck out your tongue to accommodate him better. You breathed through your nose and watched enraptured as Steve lost himself in the warmth of your mouth.

You choked hard and struggled when he unexpectedly shoved himself deeper into your mouth, your nose hitting his pelvis and his cum shooting straight down your throat.

"Fuck!" he yelled as he rode out his climax.

When he pulled out you opened your mouth to proudly show him that you had swallowed every drop. He smirked darkly at you and grabbed you by the neck to raise you up on your feet. He rewarded you with a messy kiss and a sharp bite on your lower lip before he tossed you onto the bed.

"I'm going to enjoy ruining you, sweetheart," he mumbled as he pulled your clothing off you. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Left in only your flimsy panties, he turned you around and lifted your hips off the mattress. Your face pressed into the mattress and your ass was high in the air presented to him like a prize. You yelped as you felt a sharp smack on your bottom followed by his hand rubbing roughly at your heat.

"Bucky was soft on you, wasn't he? He's always been the gentler and more considerate one between us, but that's not what you need right now. Am I right, darling?"

He was kneading your ass with one hand while his hand rubbed faster. Your body was buzzing with pleasure and your hips moved to press closer to his hand. Your mind was starting to go hazy, too distracted by the wonderful friction. Another smack jolted you to attention.

"Answer!"

"Yes! You're right, Captain."

A high pitched moan came from you when he pushed your panties to the side and slid two fingers in. The pace he started with was fast and exactly what you needed. You were more than ready. Your juices already coating your thighs and your orgasm already on the brink.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart. You hear that? You hear how fucking wet you are for me?"

You could only answer with another moan as his fingers moved faster. One little curl of his fingers and you came tumbling down, clamping on his fingers, arching your back as the spasms travelled through your body.

Proving that he and Bucky were indeed best friends, Steve didn't let up and instead inserted another finger and added his tongue lapping from your cunt to your puckered hole. You screamed and your thighs shook as another orgasm immediately followed.

"Shit! Stop. Please!"

"One more," he growled against your sopping heat.

You practically jumped off the bed when he reached around to rub rough circles on your clit with his thumb. You clawed at the sheets and tried to regain control of your own body. You were powerless when yet another orgasm was ripped from you.

"Fuck, Steve!"

You were still in the middle of your last orgasm when he quickly exchanged his fingers with his rock hard cock, burying himself until his tapered hips slammed against your ass. He groaned as he felt the end of your orgasm pulse around him. Your knees gave out and the only thing holding you up was Steve's hands on your hips.

"Goddamn, sweetheart. You feel even better than I imagined." His thrusts were relentless, easily slipping in and out from all the cum. "This is what you want, huh? You wanted to be fucked stupid, darling?"

He pounded into you and the knot in your core tightened with each filthy word that spilled from his mouth. He pulled you hard against him meeting his thrusts. You tried desperately to clutch at anything to steady yourself, the oversensitivity frying your brain. He rolled his hips into you, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars.

Your body convulsed and instinctively tried to move away, but Steve pulled you upright with a hand to your neck until your back was flush against his front. He turned your head to meet him in a punishing kiss as he palmed roughly at your breasts. You struggled in his arms as he continued to thrust into you. He bit into your neck and growled.

"Mine!"

"No more," you sobbed. "I can't. Please."

"Just one more, darling. You can give me one more."

You shook your head even as his hand slid down your body to rub and pinch at your clit. You let out a strangled scream as your walls gripped him, already responding to his will.

You gave up all control and surrendered everything to him. You had needed to be in control of everything in your life for so long with only yourself to rely on. You've had to take care of yourself. You've had to be strong for yourself. You've had to keep yourself safe. You were exhausted. Offering yourself to Steve was liberating. You soared to your high and let the pleasure consume you. Your back arched against him and your body spasmed uncontrollably. The sparks that sprung in your sight blinded you and you cried his name as you drenched the mattress with your release.

Steve has had everything spin out of control in his life; from losing Bucky, crashing that plane, waking up in a different time, finding Bucky only to lose him again, to the fucking Snap. Everything has been one shit storm after another and he felt helpless during it all when everyone turned to him for solutions he didn't have. Feeling your complete trust in him to do with you as he pleased gave him back some of that control he had been grasping for. It empowered him and renewed that passion he had lost. He moaned your name loudly as he spilled everything he had into you.

You fell in a heap next to each other, out of breath and sweaty. Your limbs felt like jelly and you did not protest when Steve pulled you into his arms. The gentle way he cradled your head and stroked your hair was a stark contrast to the rough hair pulling. You smiled into his neck as he kissed your forehead. You felt your body melt as he ran a hand lightly up and down your back.

"I got you, sweetheart," he whispered softly. Your heart grew warm knowing the words were true.

"I got you too, Steve."

An hour later, the computer rang insistently alerting you both of a disturbance in the target's hideout. You jumped to your feet to watch the chaos that had broken out. The audio was filled with yelling and loud curses and Steve could see erratic movement through his binoculars.

"What the hell is happening?"

"I may or may not have express delivered a bomb to their base," you said simply. 

"You what?"

Steve stared at you in disbelief. How you even managed that without him suspecting a thing was something he would not even try to understand or his brain would explode.

"Relax," you waved him off. "It's just a glitter bomb. The most it will do is make them look like a unicorn vomited on them. They'll look fabulous."

"What were you hoping to achieve from this, Y/N?" he huffed running a hand through his hair.

"This."

You gestured toward the audio equipment which was now broadcasting to you the enemy repeating Allan Levy's name over and over asking him for his orders between angry shouting at the absurd mess. You finally got the confirmation you needed that he was in fact in the building.

"I queued a message to everyone to get their asses here according to when the bombs would arrive. They're 10 minutes out," you said with a wink at Steve's dumbfounded expression. "Better suit up, Cap."

"Sweetheart, how many glitter bombs exactly did you send them?"

"27," you shrugged and he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Under Tony's name," you added with a cheeky grin.

"And his credit card."

You were going to be the death of Steve.

Taglist:

@fckdeusername​ @fanofalltheficsx​ @hersilencedscreams​

Masterlist

[tae-cup]

.hamartia.  ‘Prologue,

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (f) x Taehyung (?)

Genre: Mafia!Au, Fluff, Angst (Mostly angst oopsies) I DO NOT CONDONE BEHAVIOR DISPLAYED IN THIS, PLEASE IT’S FICTION AND DON’T DO STUPID THINGS THANK YOU

Plot: Y/N is a skilled, well, torturer, though you don’t like to call yourself that; it makes what you do too real. When mafia boss Yoongi wants information or wants a hostage to suffer, you step in. However, one fateful day you are thrown Taehyung, another person who does your line of work. You need answers, he is determined not to give them to you. That’s when you try...a different approach, and Yoongi is not pleased. 

Rating: TV-MA

WARNINGS: YO IF YOU’RE NOT COOL WITH SUBTLE BI AGENDAS THEN I’M SORRY THIS IS NOT THE PLACE FOR YOU, Blood, torture, mafia things (ya know?), eventual smut, drugs alcohol, sadistic tendencies, a fundamentally flawed main character (I’m sorry i’m just writing myself pretty much), assault, harassment, stalking (not bad), romance (somehow), Maybe stockholm syndrome???

Word Count: 2.6k words

A/N: Goddamn let’s see how to pull this one off. I’m just dragging a bunch of my old dirt and making it 10x worse here haha. 

Hamartia

~ The word hamartia refers to a flaw or mistake that leads to a fictional character's downfall. Classical tragedies revolve around the main character's hamartia, the tragic flaw that sets a series of disastrous events in motion. Achilles' heel was his hamartia – his fatal flaw. 

-

-

      You grasped the man’s chin, your leather glove staining with warm blood. The man was tied to a chair, his legs and arms bound in a way you knew to be uncomfortably tight. His eyes were blindfolded, mouth gagged. Your eyes narrowed as you used the non bloody gloved hand to push some hair out of your eyes. Watching the man squirm was something that made you smile. Of course, part of you knew that inside you had been all screwed up. The old you would have started crying seeing the joy in your eyes. The joy of watching someone suffer. You felt zero sympathy towards those suffering. It was more of a learned behavior, if anything. You had decided that if this was your job in the mafia, then you should not only be the best, but also find pleasure in it. So that led you here; to this massive power trip. Everyone expected the most feared interrogator to be some man with a bald head and muscles. Instead they got this; some 20 year old girl with leather gloves permanently stained with blood. These gloves had been used by you for every job since the first one. In the beginning it was to trick yourself into thinking that these hands, the ones with the gloves, were not yours. Now, they were a sense of pride. 

“Tell me, mr. Joh,” You began, your voice sweet like honey, and just as slow as you undid his gag. “Why did you...” You thought for the right wording. It wasn’t just about getting them to say something, then you could be here for hours, no, it was also about asking the right questions. “Why did you betray our drug ring in Daegu?” start with the big question, then continue smaller when the hostage was difficult, as expected.

When the man didn’t answer, you clicked your tongue. Physical pain was all the rage in the industry when it came to getting information, but you always believed it to be the mental. That’s what made you different. You understood mental strain all too well. It wasn’t as apparent, but it had a higher rate of damage over a long period of time. You licked your lips. 

“Not very talkative, hm? Alright. I’ll go check on another guest.” You had a sadistic smirk on your face as you removed his blindfold, replaced the gag, and shut off the lights. The room was pitch black, not even a speck of light to be seen. That was the thing. A person wouldn’t be able to tell if they had their eyes open or not, it something was moving, if something was in there...watching them. 

You set your watch for three hours. That was an ample amount of time. Besides, you could tell he was going to be a goner without too much struggle. You were also glad you had asked Yoongi to make the walls soundproof in this wing of the base, it was extremely annoying to listen to screaming when you were trying to rest. 

Next, you slipped a door over. Your partner, Jimin, was busy with the young woman inside. She whimpered to be set free. You could tell she thought Jimin was you. If she thought this was bad--boy was she in for a surprise when you would start. Instead, you started your deceiving game. Jimin knew what you were doing the second you timidly opened the door. This was just another mind game. 

“Y-Y/N! What are you doing?!” You feigned innocence, rushing to the distressed hostage. She sobbed, looking at you with pleading eyes. 

“P-Please-” The woman could barely get a word in through her sobs. An evil part of you enjoyed it. The other part stayed silent. “Please you have to help me.” 

Once you had sufficiently calmed her down, you snapped your fingers, signalling Jimin to leave. 

“If you thought Jimin was bad, you’re going to hate this.” Your tongue grazed over your teeth as you tried to withhold a smirk. You had went from innocent girl to monster in a matter of seconds. The realization in this woman’s eyes was like heroine. You wanted more. You had wanted more since that first time. “You’re such a pretty thing. A shame that’s about to be ruined.” You leaned in, nose grazing her neck. Then you quickly pulled away as she continued her sobs. 

“Why are you doing this?! To save your own skin? Are you selfish?” The woman burst out, her lips trembling. “Selfish for your own life?” 

You could understand why she thought you were forced to do this. Once upon a time, yes. You hadn’t wanted to go down this path, but you had no family left and this had started becoming a second home. It was during training for this exact thing, but you had always been selfish. You had indeed saved your own skin. However, even now, Yoongi would ask if you still wanted to be doing this. You always said yes. After all, now you were his right hand man and he trusted you far more than anyone else. 

Your eyes bore into hers. 

“Don’t you know? Being selfish has always been my flaw. And right now, I’ll be selfish and indulge in one of my favorite activities.” You went and sat on the edge of the metal table in the corner of the room. You were so light- you couldn’t sleep and you barely ate, that’s just how you lived. Perhaps it came with the job. You fiddled with some buttons on the wall until you got the settings right. 

“Would you like some water?”

The rasp of the woman’s response was enough for you to know. 

“Good.” as you spoke, a single drop of water hit the woman’s brow, slowly sliding down into her eye. “I’ll be going now, toodles.” You said, almost innocently. 

-

-

“Yoongi wants to see you.” Jimin spoke as you entered the hallway. You glanced at your watch. You still had an hour before the man needed to be checked up on. 

“Fine, but it needs to be snappy.” You grumbled, grabbing a black jacket off the hooks at the end of the hallway. You wore black leggings, a gray shirt (White showed far too much blood) and a black, jean, jacket. You walked briskly up the stairs from the basement and into the base’s old file room. It was old and only ever used for the dusty passageway to the basement. It was built before there were computer backups. Jimin kept a fast pace behind you as you rounded the corner and went out into the main room. It was bustling with trainees on a lunch break. The room hushed ever so slightly when you walked past. You were feared and the rumors that flew around the room may or may not be true. 

“I bet she burned someone alive once.” There was a whisper, more audible than the rest.  You grinned slightly, slowing and speaking loud enough from everyone to hear. 

“It wasn’t just once darling, and I don’t do it anymore. It takes weeks to rid the building of the smell.” There was dead silence, your boots making a loud banging nose as you climbed up the metal stairs.

 Unlike the sub level where the trainees trained, the upstairs ground level was a brilliant facade. It was a huge mansion on the outskirts of Seoul, of course the first floor was to be lavish. The higher ups slept in this mansion. The trainees left through underground passages to get back to their dorms which were still underground on the property. You opened the latch with ease, nimble fingers undoing the simple metal bar. It was there so when guests came, they would never find out their little secret. of course, everyone knew Yoongi was the head honcho, not someone to be messed with, but groups from all over had been obsessed trying to find the training facilities for them. The groups figured they could stop the entire base of operations from the beginning. As you can see, it failed miserably each time. 

You checked your watch again. You didn’t want to keep Yoongi waiting and you supposed the hostage could wait a little longer. It wasn’t like they meant anything to you. 

As you climbed yet another flight of stairs, you found yourself annoyed at how much effort was needed to reach the laziest man you knew. At the end of the intimidating hallway lay a set of imposing dark oak doors. They were decorated with menacing rot iron markings and black iron knockers in the form of snakes. The tongues came out of the beasts, the ring acting like a piercing on the snakes’ tongues. You knocked on the doors, tapping your foot impatiently. 

On the outside of the house, it would look huge, yes, but you would also notice a rounded roof off to the side of one end of the house. It stood tall and on its own, yet attached to the house. That separate building was entirely Yoongi’s office. Extravagant, yes, but you knew it was a tactic to intimidate rivals. You could never be intimidated by him. 

“Come in.” The voice sounded lazy. Before you stepped in, you glanced behind you. 

“Jimin, when my watch hits zero you go question Mr. Joh, if that doesn’t work, you know what to do.” 

He nodded and walking away hastily as the watch was counting down seemingly faster than normal. You watched him leave. Then you slipped inside wordlessly. Yoongi stared at you, his eye examining your face. Your cheek was wet. Before he could ask, you answered quickly. 

“Hostage wouldn’t stop crying, must’ve rubbed off on me.” You said bluntly. 

“Ah.” Then his eyes traveled to your hands. “I thought I told you not to wear those dirty gloves in here. They stink of blood and remind me...never mind.” 

When he trailed off, you nodded, acknowledging your rough past with him. Well, actually it wasn’t rough at all...it was, it was sweet. And it’s also part of the reason you understood yourself a selfish person now. It wasn’t even to get back at him anymore, you just accepted it as it was. You quickly slipped off the gloves, placing them neatly in your pocket. 

“Sit.” You did as he said, plopping unceremoniously onto a leather seat, your right leg dangled off the side. His jaw tensed, seeing how care free you were. It still amazed him how you tortured people and yet smiled as if nothing was the matter. 

The pale man sighed, combing his hand through his hair. 

“Y/N,” 

“Yes?”

“We’re getting a very special guest tonight. He should be here by midnight if all goes well. I want you to take care of him, get me as much information on him. Even the smallest things, I don’t care. He is key to the newest rising mafia’s great success recently. I have his file.” Yoongi spoke drawn out, but snappy, liking to get all the information out at once. God forbid you interrupt him. You expected a large case file. Usually it would have details about that person’s life. Even the smallest thing could be useful. So it was much to your surprise when you got a manila folder with one sheet of paper in it. You slowly took out the paper. Your eyebrows scrunched up as you stared at his portrait. He was a handsome man with strong features. You pulled more of the paper out now. 

“Yoongi.” 

“Yes?” 

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” 

The file was blank. Completely blank, save his portrait. How could someone be so mysterious? You knew that your gang had the best hackers around. How come they couldn’t find anything except this photo of him? 

“Well, that’s why you’re here. We need more information.” He eyed you carefully. 

“Fine. But I can’t promise results.” 

“I know.” His lips perked up ever so slightly. You rolled your eyes in disgust. You knew that smile. In fact, you knew every piece of him, every intimate part of his body, what he liked, what he didn’t, as did he. You could tell he must be thinking the same thing. “You’re dismissed.” He knew he couldn’t trust himself around you still. 

You left in an annoyed huff and stormed back down to the basement. 

-

-

You grabbed some salt on your way from the kitchen. Then you shoved Jimin aside once you got down to the basement. He had been carefully carving the man’s back with an intricate design of the gang’s symbol; a bulletproof vest. You admired his clean lines, despite the moans of pain from the man and blood that pooled on his back. You pulled out your gloves and got to work, quite literally putting salt in the wound. As you absent minded-ly made the man scream in agony, you pondered how to get into this mysterious man’s head. You hated that you were so good at what you did, that you were assigned an enigma such as the man that would be drug in like an animal tonight. Jimin could tell you were upset about something, but he didn’t pry and left the room without a second thought. 

-

-

It was midnight and you waited. It was 1 A.M. and you waited. This was taking longer than usual. Then you heard the door slam open behind you. You had been waiting in the interrogation room for him. Jimin dragged in his body. 

“What took so long?” You sniffed. 

“Sorry, he wasn’t responding to the dosage of sleeping medicine I gave him so I had to up the dosage a lot more until he was compelled under.” Jimin explained, a tired expression on his face. He ran his hand over his face and sighed. 

“Great, now he’ll be under for a while.”

“yup, and I’m heading to bed.” Jimin yawned, not caring to help you tie him up as he left. You rolled your eyes and tied the man up. Perhaps it was your pride, but you enjoyed have a victim wake up to see your face staring right back at you. Usually they were startled, but this time it was you as you looked up to find him staring at you, expressionless. 

“Who are you?” His voice was gruff and low. 

“Now now,” You shook off the initial shock quickly and adorned an almost angelic smile. “I’m the one that’s going to be asking the questions here.” You crouched, looking up at him. Your elbows rested on your knees, displaying the bloodied leather gloves. He glanced down, took note of the blood, and swallowed. It was a detail anyone but you would’ve missed. That hesitation. You stood up and grabbed a dangerously curved knife from the wall. 

“So why don’t we start with you telling me what your name is?” You prompted, your voice ticking up as if you were a caring teacher. He looked around, though seemingly unfazed. 

“Kim Taehyung.” He said after a while. You nodded and wrote it down on a crisp sheet of paper, careful not to get any of Mr. Joh’s blood on it. 

“Mr. Kim, you are an honored guest here. If you need anything, let me know. Until then,” You chuckled a little. “Enjoy your stay.” 

-

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Please please please let me know if I should continue this series! 

I’ve always found it easier to reach the links when reading if they’re down here

Prologue | Part 1 

[thestarkerisobvious]

                                           Chapter 4: 

Studying Pays Off “You’re afraid to say the one thing that makes me leave and I can’t work up the gumption to ask you for anything, your eyes get angry and your nose does this little sniffle thing when you’re about to get really mad and suddenly I shut up for fear for getting kicked out the tower and never being asked back.  Do you realize in all this time we’ve never had an argument, ever?  We’ve never even had angrysex.  You’re right, this isn’t sustainable.  We need to make a decision. “

                   Chapter 6: Our Own 2-Man Superfriends Team

They lay panting together, Tony collapsed halfway on Peter’s body, his head laying, face down on the pillow.  Peter still had one hand holding onto the headboard in a deathgrip (oh dear, did he leave marks?  Again!?) and suddenly found himself, absurdly, unable to let go.

Then Tony was bringing their faces together and chuckling softly.

“Seriously, Pete.  Holy shit.”

Peter breathed.  Then he grinned.  Then he laughed a little as well.  He felt his whole body relax and, slowly, let his fingers relax too.  He pulled away enough to look into Tony’s face.  He felt stunned.

“So…was that…good?

“Good?  Goddamn, where did you learn to talk like that Kid?”

“A03,” Peter said without thinking, but panicked a little when Tony reacted.  (He had assumed Tony had no idea what A03 was.

“Wait…isn’t that the server where they are allowed to post raunchy stories about me??”

“Of course not,” Peter said with an exaggerated eyeroll (hoping to cover.)

“That’s where they post raunchy stories about Lord of the Rings.”

“Why would anyone want to…nevermind,” Tony shaking his head, and Peter tried to hide his look of relief.

“Look forget that part, so, that was good, right?” Peter asked, even as he noticed that Tony was still laying, unmoving, half on and half off his body.

“Well, you came pretty hard,” he said dismissively, the edges of his mouth beginning to lift into a smirk when Peter grabbed that face very suddenly with one hand.

“But did you like it?” he insisted.

Tony groaned and closed his eyes.  His face looked peaceful (and, to be honest, very very tired) but all he said was…

“Yes…Daddy?”

Peter winced and kissed him then, hoping to avoid whatever joke was now inevitable.  They kissed that way for some time.  In fact they kissed so long that Tony revived, pulled himself up onto his elbows and moved his body to cover Peter’s…then worked his hands under Peter’s shoulders and suddenly rolled them oven until Tony was on his back and Peter was on top, all without breaking the kiss.

“Oh god Peter…” he moaned again, in a voice that sounded so exhausted and broken that it made Peter startle and pull back.  Looking into Tony’s face he noticed dark circles under the man’s eyes.  Had they been there before?  Or was it just that the man looked so relaxed and unguarded in this moment?  In any case he only had a moment to wonder before he was pulled down into another kiss.

“Goddamn, Peter,” Tony whispered against his mouth.  “This is what I always wanted.”

“Wait…what?” Peter said, breaking the kiss.  He pulled up and looked into Tony’s face in confusion.  After a solid year of getting spectacularly fucked by Tony Stark surely the man hadn’t really spent the entire time wishing…

“Not that, stupid,” Tony said, reading his face.  He frowned.  Then he took Peter’s face in his hands and brought their foreheads together.  “You fucking me is just one more card in an entire deck.  I mean this, you taking over, you talking to me, you making demands.  That’s what I always wanted.

“God Kid, listening to you talk – I could listen to you talk to me that way all night.

“As long as you’re talking I know it’s ok.  I know I won’t say the wrong thing.”

“What!?” Tony said, looking into Peter’s confused face.  He didn’t sound irritated, he looked to calm to be irritated, but he did look exhausted, and Peter wondered how long it had been since the man had slept.  “Ever since you forbid me from talking I’ve been a good boy – I’ve kept my mouth shut.  And that’s quite a feat for me.

“But you Kid, you can talk to me all you want.”

He moved up for a kiss but Peter pulled away, eyes wide, the gears in his head turning.  “Tony I…I never told you not to talk to me during sex…I just asked you not to make jokes about it.”

“Baby, this is a joke,” Tony whispered gently.

“What…what?!” Peter sputtered as Tony pushed him off and then heaved himself off the bed.  He should have been angry, but Tony looked too serene right now, too serene and…relieved? Like a man who had just survived an exhausting journey and was trying to find the energy to make it to the shower before he collapsed.  He was, in fact, headed toward the shower, even as Peter tried to make sense of what he had just said.

“This…this is all…this is all a joke to you?”

“Peter, for godsakes, pay attention!” Tony said wearily.  He had made it as far as the door to the washroom and was now leaning his head against the doorframe.

“Everything we’ve ever done in this bed is a joke.  No matter how tender or intimate or precious it is to us, no matter how brave or precocious or shy you are, and no matter how well we’ve learned to read each other, no matter what we’ve confessed to wanting in this room someone is laughing about it.

“Right this minute, right this second,  there are people in bars all across America making jokes about how their rival sports team likes to do exactly what you did to me tonight, and everything I’ve ever done to you.  Yes, Peter.  It is a joke.

“That’s why I joke about it.”

“Why should I give a fuck what your fucked-up generation thinks…hey!”  Peter called out, following Tony left the room.

“You know I could describe everything that just happened and everything we just said to each other on tumblr. right now and I’d have 110 likes by tomorrow morning, minimum!!”

He stopped then.  They were standing in Tony’s ridiculously large bathroom, a room where the shower, bath and toilet each had their own little nook, a room with such unlikely furniture including a desk and a love seat.  He stopped because his voice was echoing off the walls.  He closed his mouth hard.  He had been shouting.

(And exaggerating.  On a weekday he’d be lucky if he got 50 likes, tops.)

Tony had been standing in front of the love seat and looking at it, baffled, as if he couldn’t remember how to walk around it (or why anyone needed this much furniture in their bathroom.)  But now he was looking at Peter angrily.

“Oh yeah?  Well I have no idea what that means.”  He walked around the love seat picked up a towel.  “But what I do know is that my Gen Z boyfriend just fucked my ass twice, excuse me, made love to my ass twice, so I’m taking a shower.

“Tell me how many likes that gets.”

Peter stood, gaping, as Tony entered the shower.  “Are you coming?” the tired man called from within.

Peter came.

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Chapter 6

: Our Own 2-Man Superfriends TeamSummary:

"I Was Rejected By Tony Stark In An Elevator?

“Worst.  Villain.  Backstory.  Ever.”

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Inside the shower there was little talking.  Not that Tony was distant, he was just as affectionate in the shower as always.  Affectionate, and exhausted.  At one point he dropped the bar of soap and looked around for it, baffled, without actually looking down.

“Tony, when was the last time you slept?”

Giving up on the soap, Tony stood under the spray, looking up to think as he rinsed off.  “I was pushing 20 hours when I got on the plane.  I was working – I figured I’d sleep when I got home.  But then I got your note.”

“But that was last night…oh god….”

Peter picked up the soap and finished lathering up the man, then rinsed him off.   Then shampooed his hair and rinsed that off too.  Tony allowed it all with an amused but gentle look.  Finally Peter was satisfied and led him out of the shower to towel him off.  Tony smiled silently, appreciative.  Still, the silence worried Peter.  Now they talked during sex, and that was good.  But did that mean they wouldn’t talk after?

They dried off in the absurdly large bathroom, then Tony took Peter by the hand and led him back to the bed.  He gently pushed Peter to lay down on his with a solid hand in the center of his chest.  Then he laid beside him, hand still on his chest, and looked into his face.

“You scare the absolute shit out of me, Peter Parker,” he whispered.

“I…what?  What does that mean?”

“You wanted me to keep my mouth closed during sex – so I was safe then.  But then you wanted me to talk when I went down on you but mostly I couldn’t say more than yes or no because my mouth was full.  But now you want me to talk when my mouth isn’t full and that’s just dangerous.  Very very dangerous.”

“I don’t understand.  What…what are you going to say?  Where are you going?”

Tony was sitting up and looking very alarmed.

“Tony, what’s wrong?”

“Oh shit.  Oh god.”  His eyes were wide and he was looking around the room in horror.  “I messed up, I sat up to go drink.  You’re usually asleep by now.  Oh god this is it, is this it?  This is it, isn’t it?”

“This is…what?  Tony you’re not making any sense.”

“This is when I say the thing, and you leave.”

“The thing?  Tony…”

The man was sitting, completely naked, on the side of the bed, his feet on the floor, and his shoulders were beginning to rise and fall as his breath quickened.  Peter scooted up to him, slipping both legs and around him and wrapping an arm around the shaking man’s body, and combing fingers through his hair.

“Your sleep deprivation is disrupting the connection between your amygdala and your medial prefrontal cortex…I appreciate that it’s making you very open right now but you’re also talking crazy.  What “thing” are you going to say to me to make me leave?  I know all your secrets.

“I know your Secret Identity; the whole world knows.

“And I know you like guys.  And you like bottoming sometimes – so hot times for me.  What do you think…hey…”  But Tony was standing and walking, unsteadily out the door.

“You have got to stop saying cryptic things and leaving the room!”  Peter demanded as he followed him, again, into the bathroom.  There he found Tony sitting on the love seat, gripping the edge with his hands, eyes wide.

“For godssakes what is this terrible confession??  Are you seeing someone else?”

Tony looked up him suddenly, so disgusted that Peter immediately apologized.  He climbed into Tony’s lap, linked his hands around the back of his neck, and spoke gently.

“Ok…ok.  You… have a crazy wife hidden somewhere in the penthouse and that’s why we can’t get married…no?  Your crazy first wife IS dead, but your equally-crazy MAID wants me to believe she’s still alive and in the last act she’ll burn the house down.  Soylent Green is people?  Come on, throw me a bone…I’m out of movies here Tony.”

Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Ok, ok, ok.”  Peter racked his brain, tried to think about what parts of Tony’s life he didn’t know about.  “Do you have an illegitimate son my age?” he ventured.

“Oh my god are you my father?  No, no, you’re right, that’s too Star Wars.  Ok, I’m out.  Please tell me what the thing is so we can just get some sleep.”

“How can you have dated me for a year and still not figure this out yet?” Tony shouted, or tried to shout.  His voice was breathless and broken.  “You want me to take off my armor and strip away the sarcasm and the humor and what’s left?  There’s nothing here but me.  And I’m not good enough for you!  You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m going to screw it up some day and say the one thing that makes you leave and there’s nothing I can do to stop that, and I’m an utter coward and I can’t live like this much longer Pete!”

He had Peter by the waist and had lifted him up, or tried to, and was now gesturing by shaking Peter’s body, weakly, back and forth.  Peter easily broke away from his grip and pulled him close, stroking his head.  (Tony struggled, but what was he going to do?  He was sitting naked in his bathroom with a lapful of the Strongest Avenger.)

“So…wait…the thing you’re afraid of saying is…”

“The last straw.  I won’t know what it is until I say it.  But I will say it, Pete, I’ll say it and you’ll walk out on me and that will be the end of me.”

“Oh god.  This is just…existential angst?  Oh Tony, everyone has that.  Well, I imagine yours is epic…you could never do anything halfway.”  He kissed Tony’s head before he let go.

“Ok, I get it,” he said as gently as possible, stroking the man’s hair away from his face.  “You’re a superhero with super-sized angst.  I’ll give you that.  But you’re not a coward.  No more than I am.  I’ve spent all night trying to work up the nerve to…actually I’ve been working up the nerve for months to tell you this…”

Peter let his hands drop to his thighs.  He leaned back (as far as he could, sitting on Tony’s lap) and took a deep breath.

“Tony, we’ve got to stop trying to read each other’s minds.  Because we both suck at it.  I mean we do it great on the training fields at the compound and, ok, we do it really well in the lab together but wow, when we try to do it in this relationship?  We suck.

“You’re afraid to say the one thing that makes me leave and I can’t work up the gumption to ask you for anything, your eyes get angry and your nose does this little sniffle thing when you’re about to get really mad and suddenly I shut up for fear for getting kicked out the tower and never being asked back.  Do you realize in all this time we’ve never had an argument, ever?  We’ve never even had angrysex.  You’re right, this isn’t sustainable.  We need to make a decision.

“I had a very elaborate plan to get into your pants and it worked.  But I had no plans after that.  I had no idea you’d invite me back, or keep inviting me.  But it’s been nearly a year, Tony.  I need to know.  Are we…a thing?  Are you my boyfriend —partner -- significant-hero – whatever?

“Because, if we are, Tony, then we can argue.  You can say ‘the thing’ that pisses me off and I’ll get mad and yell at you, and then I’ll come back.  Like a couple.  The way couples do.”

“But what if you don’t?  No, baby, no.  It’s too much to risk…”

“Excuse me?

“Anthony Stark, the very weekend I announced that I was 20 years old and Gay was the same weekend of the Capture the Flag game.  Do you remember?  You said my team won because I was pretending the flag was a giant dildo – in the shape of Fury’s penis.

“Do you really think you can say something that would piss me off more than that?!

“Tony, Nat told me that dating you would be hard work, and she was right.  It is hard work, but it is worth it.  But we need to be working on it together and we can’t do that if we don’t admit that it’s happening!  If we are together, if we are a couple, if we are our own 2-Man Superfriends team…then you can say ‘the thing’ and, yes, it might piss me off but I’ll still be back.

“No, I mean it, I’ll prove it,” he said in a gentler tone.  He took Tony’s face and leaned it back to look up into his.  “Open your mouth right now and say the most offensive thing you can think of, and I’ll prove to you it won’t make me leave.”

Tony blinked up into his face.  He looked stunned and helpless and fearful.  But all he said is “Your generation is too sensitive and you make it impossible to joke about anything.”

Peter’s lifted his eyes to the ceiling as he considered the statement.  Then he nodded.

“Ok.  Well,”

He patted Tony’s cheeks.  Then he squeezed his face a little between his hands as he said “And your generation was so homophobic you codified it so deeply into your language you don’t even realize when you’re being horrible, so I guess we’re even.

“Now that’s it – we’re official.  We are a couple, and we can officially get into fights now.

“Besides – that way we can have makeup sex.”

He kissed Tony firmly on the forehead and then sat back on Tony’s lap, smiling, proud of himself and what he had said out loud.

But his pride was somewhat dampened when he saw Tony’s pained face.   “I’m toasting self destruction but I have no scotch which is too bad because this is going to be legendary,” Tony whispered, and Peter’s shoulders sank.

“Oh god.  You’re so sleep deprived you’re incoherent.  Are you even going to remember this conversation in the morning?”

“I have no idea,” Tony said quietly, looking around the room as if he had never seen it before.  “Wait, c’mere.  I want to tell you something.”

Tony pushed himself free of Peter’s body and stood, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the bed.  This time he had Peter sit up in the bed with his back against the headboard.  Tony lay himself lengthwise alongside the headboard, his head in Peter’s lap.  Once he got comfortable he started to speak.

“A famous man once said, "We create our own demons.”  Do you know who said that?”

“No.  But let me get my phone and I’ll look it up.  Or you could just ask FRIDAY.”

“Nevermind.  I’m going to tell you a story.  It started in Burns Switzerland in 1999, Christ were you even born yet?  The good old days.   I never thought they'd come back to bite me.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

He talked for two hours.  It would have been less but Peter asked many questions (but not as many as he wanted.  He put aside a dozen topics he was planning on googling later.)  He had heard many versions of the story, of how Dr. Killian had been the American behind the Mandarin attacks and the destruction of Tony’s house in Malibu, but he had never heard the story from Tony himself.

They changed positions many times, from the Psychiatrist-Couch position to spooning to sitting up on the bed to back to the Psychiatrist-Couch position (but reversed.)  Tony was just getting to the part where War Machine had saved the life of the President when Peter stood, brought him a pair of boxer shorts, donned a pair himself, took him by the hand and led him to the kitchen.

“It’s 5 in the morning,” he announced.  “Time for breakfast.  If I get some food into you maybe I can get you to sleep.  But not until you finish your story.  I’m still trying to figure out how dissing a nerd in an elevator at a New Years Eve party made YOU to blame when he refrigerated your personal assistant.”

“Well…she was my girlfriend at the time.”

“That makes it worse, not better, Tony.  We’re making omelets now.”

Tony obeyed.  “What does ‘refrigerate’ mean?” he asked, his head in the fridge.

“I’ll explain later.  I appreciate the connections you’re trying to make here, Tony, I do, but I don’t think this is as circular as you think it is.  Lots of rich people didn’t invest in AIM’s screwed-up think tank.  He didn’t torture all their girlfriends.”

“But it was…it is.  Circular.  I made the demons myself…”

“No, sorry, not buying it.  I Was Rejected By Tony Stark In An Elevator?

“Worst.  Villain.  Backstory.  Ever.”

“You know, I told this story, all of it, to Bruce,” Tony later admitted as they ate their omelets.  “He fell asleep early on.”

“Bruce?  The guy who had to be a hermit is as his main survival skill for, like, ages?  Bruce is a good man, but he’s not a good friend.  I just mean he has a lot of guilt and pain in his life.  Not much room to invest in someone else’s.”

They discussed Bruce and the other Avengers as they moved the dishes into the sink.  But before they headed back to bed Tony pulled Peter into his arms and held him close.

“You’re the only one on the planet, now, who knows this story,” he whispered.

“Well, yeah, that makes sense,” Peter said with a tired grin.

“I am your boyfriend.”

[ethompson928]

We are Bulletproof (BTS GANG AU) Chapter 32

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

"So, there you have it princess, you wanted the truth...you got it"

Allie still couldn't see or hear past her own thoughts. Her head was swimming and all she could do was look at Hoseok. Her heart felt like it had ripped into two and that the solid rock on which she was able to stand on was crumbling beneath her feet and she was tumbling down into an empty pit of despair. The look on his face confirmed everything, all he was worried about now was the fact that he got caught and there was no sorry or pleading with her to make her believe that it was all a lie.

He allowed her to believe that he might have felt something for her even though she was falling deeper and deeper in love with him. The world stood still and silence engulfed the already awkward situation.

Namjoon smirked knowing full well that he had won; game over, checkmate. If there was one thing Namjoon could pride himself on it was that he won. Fair and simple. He didn't care who got hurt as long as he was the victor standing at the top. He still had his chance to finish the deal and to walk away victorious.

"So...you've all been lying to me?" Allie asked, there was no emotion in her voice. She couldn't even bring herself to look the boys in the eyes to see if they were lying or telling the truth, she just knew. Silence welcomed her once again as she took it as a confirmation, a confirmation that Jimin and Taehyung were just pretending to be her friend to draw her in. Hoseok had just pretended to fall in love with her to get her to put her guard down and Jin pretended to be that figure of sweetness that made her relax into the situation she had found herself in. Suga and Jungkook only seemed to be the two genuine ones, they both hated her guts and whether Jungkook wanted to admit it or not, he couldn't be nice to her. He was just doing his job. The job that Namjoon told him to do.

"This way." Namjoon told her gripping her arm and leading her from the room past the quiet boys and towards the door that led to the stairs. In all of the built up anger, frustration and emotions that were swarming in her head she ripped her arm out of Namjoon's grip and shoved Hoseok against the wall behind him, her arm holding him up against it but he didn't even try to fight back.

"Did you lie to me?" She shouted in his face. There was no answer. He couldn't even look her in the eye. He knew he betrayed her and the guilt was just too much. He gambled with the girls heart and now it had all fell apart.

"Answer me!" She hit the wall by his head with her free hand. Hoseok finally let his eyes meeting her shaking ones. "Why did you lie to me, you played me like a violin...allowed me to feel something for you when I had nothing or no one around me...you wormed your way in...and I actually thought I found myself falling in love with you!" Hoseok's eyes were telling the story his face couldn't. "And you never felt anything for me? Did you? I was just a piece in this big game just so you could come out the best. You never loved me, hell did you ever even like me? You let Namjoon rule your life and you can't even make your decisions. I never want to see you again! Don't talk to me ever again." She backed away from him and Namjoon once again grabbed her arm, as he moved to take her out of the room he swiftly turned to his sub-ordinates and demanded; "This ends now...call him and tell him to meet us at the rendezvous point."

Before Allie was even allowed to contemplate what he said, her arm was roughly pulled and she was moving quickly being herded like a lamb to the slaughter.  She was brought back to the stairs and prodded to begin climbing.  Namjoon was being quiet, but Allie could feel the tension and anger radiating from his body and if his grip on her throbbing wrist was anything to go by, he officially had enough.  As they emerged back into the main area of the house he planted her on a nearby chair and knelt in front of her, his grip still firm.  She could hardly look him in the eye he was that angry.  His hand shot out and grabbed her chin, forcing her head up to look at him instead of the salmon coloured carpet at her feet.  She winced lightly at her sensation that shot across her face.  He silently watched her, his dark, intense eyes searching her scared but gentle eyes.  She could feel her breath coming out slightly shaky, she didn't even realise that her hands were shaking as Namjoon never released his strong hold.  

"Now, you're going to listen to me for once in your goddamn life."  He spoke slowly and lowly, sending a spark of fear down the back of Allie's spine.  She felt like she couldn't really breath in the intense moment.  All those days trying to put up a strong front and trying to put on this mask, becoming someone she wasn't, living a lifestyle that would never be for her and it was all crumbling down around her to reveal what she truly was.  A young, scared girl who had gotten herself in way too deep and was struggling to stay above the waves to get a breathe of air before being forced back into the depths where she felt like she couldn't breath.  It was hell.  

"Don't speak."  Namjoon demanded.  She had no plan to, her fear was physically locking her in the seat.  "Now.  I tried to give you a chance and you ruined it.  You are going to listen to every little thing I say and you are going to follow orders without complaints.  You will wait here until I come back.  If you disobey me once...I am going to put a bullet through Jung Hoseok's head before you can even blink...and then once you've seen the light leave his eyes, I'll finally shoot you too and be rid of you.  Got it?"

Allie nodded, fear evident in her eyes.  Yes Hoseok may not have been entirely true about his feelings but she had come to care for the man, flaws and all.  That was something she wouldn't be able to throw away at the drop of a hat.  He was her saving grace and while he may have used her, she was inwardly grateful for everything he had done, whether the returned emotions were real or faked.

"He said that he will be here in one hour."  A voice interrupted the fragile atmosphere as Taehyung stepped into view of Allie's line of vision.  He seemed hesitant and nervous to speak to his superior.  Namjoon's jaw clenched and his head turned to face his subordinate.  "Tell him he has 20 minutes, he needs to stop trying my patience and if he brings back up then tell him that the girls brains will be decorating the living room wall and her head will be sent 1st class."

Taehyung disappeared as quick as he had came and silence filled the room once again.  It was clear the rest of the members of the group were avoiding Namjoon like the plague and he didn't seem to care.

"Stay here."  He ordered before finally giving up the metaphorical staring contest that they had between each other.  As soon as he stepped out of her personal space and walked off adjusting his cuffs of his shirt only then could Allie let out the breath that had been caught in her throat.  Tears daring to leak over the edge and her head was spinning.  The room was now deadly silent and she was the only one here.  She could hear voices in the distance and a door slamming somewhere down the hallway.  But she kept her eyes forward looking at the wall opposite her.  

All she had to do was follow his orders.  That's what she had been doing right?  This whole time Allie had been nothing but complacent, she knew she was way in over her head and she messed up so many opportunities to escape but she ruined it when she got emotionally compromised.  "I just want to go home..." She whispered to herself for company as she felt slightly alone and vulnerable.  Looking back over the conversation, or rather dramatic monologue that Namjoon delivered she recalled her 'best friend' Ayami stabbing her in the back and letting her loose to the wolves.  Why would she do it?  Over the years Ayami had been nothing but a faithful best friend and Allie had never known about her knowing any of these boys or that she had another group of friends outside of their small friendship circle.  

Another slammed door moments later brought Allie out of her sorrows as she perked her head up slightly so most of the room could be kept in her peripheral vision.  Jimin was walking towards her, with an expression she couldn't place.  "Namjoon sent me to get you"  was all he said as he took her arm and lifted her from the chair.  She noted how gentle his touch was and he didn't pull her, he allowed her to walk next to him and just guided her.  It was worlds different from the strength that Namjoon displayed when he held her arm, the redness was still there.

Jimin led her to the front door, as he pulled it open Allie sworn she thought she heard him mutter a sorry as he took her outside.  His grip tightening only just whenever Namjoon came into view.  The rest of the members of Bangtan were present and silent as their leader walked confidently over to her.  His hand raised and Allie winced moving her face away from him as he advanced.  A low chuckled emitted from his lips and he simply brushed the tatted hair that clung to her face.  "You know, I was really starting to like you, but I knew there was something off.  Guess that little fire in you just didn't want to go out...you know, you could have avoided all of this if you just submitted to us."

"Now why do I feel like you're lying?  You were never going to keep me around."  She said, summoning up the last of her courage.  Namjoon twitched in annoyance.  He licked the inside of the mouth and let out a 'tsk' before taking her from Jimin.

"Remember what I told you."  His eyes flicked from her to Hoseok and back, a small smirk gracing his face when he saw her eyes flit to the ground and her teeth grazed her bottom lip.  

Pulling her further out into the outdoor space the sound of tires could be heard faintly rolling along the stones that covered the ground.  A black car finally rolled into view and stopped across from the gang.  The door opened and a foot hit the ground.  Finally the figure emerged and Allie laid eyes on the man she had not seen since she was young.

It was her father.

It was Park JinYoung.

[fossadeileonixv]

Midweek Madness: D7, Don, and Dolphins

Someone was busy continuing his form.

Hello, friends! How are you?

Probably better than Juve, who lost Marko Pjaca last night for the rest of the year with an ACL tear. I’m gonna throw in my 2 cents here. As much as I’m glad to see it happen to ladri, international friendlies at this point in the season are absolute nonsense. Had we lost any of D7, AR, Don, Zapata, or Bacca on friendly duty last night, our season ambitions take a major hit. I’m personally for doing away with friendlies during the season, but at the very least I’d settle for doing away with the ones that occur during the stretch run. There is no rationale reason for national squads to need an exhibition at this juncture in the season. None. Let’s do away with these things.

Dare I say... en fuego?

All that aside, you know who did have a good break? I’ll give you a couple hints. He’s a winger. He couldn’t crack Everton’s XI. And he roasted the French national team last night coming off the bench. To catch you up if you didn’t see it, D7 came off Spain’s bench with the teams level and within thirty seconds, won a penalty which David Silva would convert, and ten minutes later he tapped in a Jordi Alba cross for his first goal for country. Spain won 2-0.

The kid is legit. When we acquired him on loan, I was lukewarm. Mostly because I felt the real need for the club in January was a midfielder, but also I didn’t really rate him higher than Niang, and the whole loan for loan thing struck me as odd. It was also difficult to get excited about someone with no option to buy. At best, he helps us with depth and at worst he returns to Everton at the end of the spell. 

But now? Ugh. The Deulofeu Paradox, as Milan historians will come to call it in the not-too-distant-future, has developed in both the best and worst way. He’s far exceeded the expectations us Leoni had for him at the outset of the loan, but with the loan being dry, this success has made it that much more unlikely that he returns. (For the record, I’m hard on Fester, but I don’t blame him for this one. Everton gave zero indication that they were willing to attach an option to buy) D7 has truly rediscovered the form that created all the buzz around him at Barcelona as “The Next Messi”, going from an out-of-favor speedy-trickster who was deemed too selfish to start on a competitive club, to an integral part of a competitive, albeit incomplete, side with European aspirations. Oh, and a pretty decent performance against one of the world’s top national sides. 

I’m convinced that he’s putting it together here. He’s been an instrumental part of this team’s success especially with the Suso and Bonaventura injuries, seamlessly integrating himself into the squad’s attack. The deficiencies the English warned us about, mainly his selfishness and indifference towards defending, have been non-factors. But bringing him here permanently? Not going to be an easy task now, with his parent club probably a little more willing to give him a second run, and squads like Barcelona and Atleti put on alert. But he’s suuuuuuch a good fit here, and would probably reach even higher levels if he had a better supporting cast. So what would you pay to bring him here permanently? 15m? 25m? 40m? Is he all I’m making him out to be? Or are you not sold? As Cam’ron once said “Lemme know”. 

Personally, I’d throw anywhere from 20-30m towards him. If Berardi’s price is set at 40, and mirrors the value of the Serie A market, D7 is probably in the same ballpark.

The Future King

Holy shit, the kid looks sleek in all black.

In case you missed it, Don got his first start between the sticks for the Azzurri last night and it went pretty well sans some friendly fire from real-life pal Alessio Romagnoli (Cuz God knows the Dutch weren’t going to score, holy shit they’re a mess). Don is Italy’s future number one. It’s Gigi’s until whenever he doesn’t want it anymore, and lately he’s been dropping hints that he might stay on a little longer, but Don is the heir and Gigi has given him the blessing. Last night was a taste of what promises to be another legacy between the pipes.

Now, we’ve talked about this a lot here lately, so none of this is new and I’m not offering a different take, but the new Milan ownership group, which is no longer SES but Rossoneri Sport Investment Lux (we can just call it Lux), has to make this kid priority number one this summer. It is imperative that Chong Li and co. offer a contract with an enormous buyout clause, hefty wages, and unlimited access to Berlusconi’s seaside resorts, whatever it takes, because The Don is truly fashioning himself to be a once-in-a-lifetime type of homegrown talent (twice, for those of us fortunate enough to experience the trajectory of Maldini). I don’t care if negotiations between the brass and that human bag of chewed up cow fat, Mino Raiola turn into a bloodsport. The contract needs to get done. If they play their cards right he can serve the dual roles of both the tangible and symbolic: a world-class keeper on the pitch, as well as a club icon; the face of a new Milan and a source of pride and leadership for a team that has severely lacked it over the last decade. We can hem and haw over what a reasonable price for his services are, but the truth of the matter is that selling him sets a precedent that is going to define this new ownership’s ambitions, as well as the long-term course of the club. Do we want to assume our place in Europe’s elite again? Do we want to have the best players possible at every position? Do we want to be an attractive destination for future targets? Or are we content being Roma? Are we cool with just being competitive and battling for second and third every year? Don needs to be here for us to avoid the latter. Call me crazy or jumping the gun, but I’m slowly starting to believe that the most important story this summer is going to be the player we already have.

Phishing for Points

I racked my brain for three hours, and that was the best title I could come up with. It’s not even accurate since a dolphin is a mammal and a fish is a group of its own. But then again, Pescara refers to fishing so linguistically it is somewhat accurate... so... I’ll just leave it.

We head to Pescara on Sunday to hopefully bludgeon a hapless last-placed side who is somehow performing below a historically bad Crotone. After a 5-0 aberration against Genoa, Zdenek Zeman’s men (formerly Massimo Oddo’s who is now being mentioned as a possible candidate for Fiore once Sousa departs) are in the midst of a four game pointless slide. They have the worst record in Serie A, have conceded 66 goals which is last in the league, and are in such turmoil that former Milan men Alberto Aquilani and Bryan Cristante, by no means players that should be demanding transfers, demanded transfers in January. 

So while on paper this should be a walk in the park, I can’t help but remember the fact that we scraped by them at home in October. Had it not been for a rather fortuitous Bonaventura free-kick that rolled slowly under the wall, we would have drawn to a side that in terms of possession and shots, were somehow our equal. With nothing to play for expect Pescara, led by a personal favorite of mine in Sulley Muntari, to continue their trend of playing a fearless brand of attacking football. And look for us to do much of the same. 

The good news is, this team is at full-ish strength barring the long-term injuries, as everyone is back from suspension. Calabria will watch from the sides, but it is good to see his name back on the sheet. 

I anticipate three points, but I’m not overlooking these fish. Or mammals. Whatever.

OT

If you haven’t seen Get Out, get out and see Get Out. If not, get out. Because it is truly a brilliant movie. I hate scary movies, and it is erroneously billed as a horror flick, but it is definitely a psychological thriller that will blow your goddamn mind. Category notwithstanding, it is fantastic.

Allrighty guys. Sound off below!