#I wanna play him but I cannot aim for shit

[mangdreams]

My Uniqlo boy🔥🔥🔥 recovering from post art school burnout lermao 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️….

[callilouv]

once ir reached 3am im gna plsay ml

[lilithofpenandbook]

You know what, fuck Neville Longbottom.

He was NEVER supposed to be a sympathetic character! He's very clearly a character written to be made fun of for being ridiculous! Him being so scared of everything isn't an endearing character trait designed to evoke sympathy and understanding, it's a FLAW that's meant to make you wanna shake him and yell at him to get a fucking grip!

I grew up reading boarding school books, specifically the Enid Blyton ones, which I believe almost every single British child has read. The school stories are mostly traditionally girls' books, and they all have very similar character tropes and themes, some of which are shared with Harry Potter, which is a boarding school story. There's always at least one jokester, such as Alicia in Malory Towers. She's brilliant, intelligent, but she's rather unkind and thoughtless, and always pulls pranks, or rather tricks, on people, especially the one french teacher. She's exactly like Fred and George, practical jokers who are popular and well liked but not always very kind and don't always consider the outcome of their pranks. There's always an incredibly strict teacher the girls don't dare play funny with. In the third book there's this one teacher I cannot recall the name for, but she, I believe, is considered mean and strict and awful up until the end where it turns out she's actually got a good heart. She's not the level of pantomime meanness as Snape is, (perhaps because she's not a male teacher and also not teaching the kids something that could kill them all), but she's a similar trope.

Actually, Snape reminds of the teachers from the old Beano comic, overly strict and mean, but when you consider the shit those kids put them through you can kinda understand why. But ultimately, Snape is a classic children's trope: the mean strict teacher who actually deep inside would take care of the students.

Neville? He's ALSO a trope! The ridiculous coward!

Going back to Malory Towers, there's Mary-Lou. She's a very cowardly, nervous girl (and a sweetheart, but a scaredy cat nonetheless). And that's a FLAW. NOBODY SYMPATHISES WITH HER BECAUSE WHAT SHE'S AFRAID OF IS NOTHING TO BE AFRAID OF! They at best pity her because it's a miserable way to live, but they don't support her for it. There are multiple full plots where the aim is her having to do something scary to get her to shake off this cowardliness, at least one outright organised by another character in an attempt to show her she can be brave.

Scaredy Cat characters in British children's media, especially in these school stories, are never scaredy cats to be sympathised with. They're there as a sort of comedic relief or to make things interesting, and are often considered a nuisance, the way Neville is! In the first book there's a very classic "you need to learn to stand up for yourself" piece involving Neville. Which he does!

People seem to be projecting all sorts of trauma onto Neville. Especially regarding Snape. There seems to be, in this current time, an attitude that him being a coward is something other people need to be accommodating for, and that he's a victim, especially regarding Snape. Neville is not a victim. He's not supposed to be accommodated for, especially in the climate he's living in. He exists as a comic character, and clearly to be a bit ironic as he's a coward in the house of courage. But regardless, his cowardice is not the result of trauma no matter how much people project it onto him and blame Snape for it.

Neville's cowardice is a flaw. It makes him ridiculous. He's afraid of absolutely nothing important at all. He's afraid of a teacher? That's absolutely stupid! Everyone laughs at him. Even he's aware that this is something stupid to be afraid of. He's more afraid of his grandmother, to the point that he didn't mention her because he was that afraid of her being his boggart. It just happened Lupin used the grandma, unaware of the situation, as an idea of how to make the boggart look ridiculous. So it makes me mad that people use the boggart scene as proof that Snape traumatised Neville. Neville is not traumatised. He's just an idiot.

Yes, I've gone there and I'm staying there. He is an idiot. He's frightened of stupid things. He keeps fucking up basic potions, basic spells, everything, to the point that McGonagall forbade him from doing anything in front of the visiting schools because he's that bad at everything. Can he help it?

Yes. He can help it. Instead of being a coward and crying about it, he can just as easily be confident, own up to it, and be more bold in trying to be better. His cowardly nature is what makes people lose respect for him. Something that makes sense considering the setting of the story!

Neville's arc is him growing up and getting confidence by going through difficulties and rising to meet them, not by other people gently helping him through his nonsense (and it is nonsense). That's not how things work in the setting of Hogwarts at all. In the setting and culture of Hogwarts, there's no gentle helping, it's "pull yourself together!". That's exactly the attitude everyone gives Neville, from the students to the teachers.

Neville's cowardice is ridiculous. It's as much of a flaw as Draco's arrogance, Snape's unpleasantness, McGonagall's competitiveness, and so on. He is not meant to be babied for it, or called "traumatised", he's meant to be scolded and shaken until he gets some sense knocked into him.

Snape's approach to Neville is exactly what you'd expect in this context. Maybe another teacher would have less of an unpleasant attitude about it, but in the end they WILL lose patience with him because all he's doing is not learning and trying to make him learn the same thing everyone else learnt last week is going to waste everyone's time. It makes zero sense to spend time trying to get one child to understand a basic concept that everyone else understood ages ago instead of moving with the curriculum. Snape is naturally mad at Neville for messing up the clear instructions that are right there on the board. He's rightfully mad about it. He's rightfully mad that Neville won't learn. He's rightfully mad that Neville's putting them in danger. Yes, he's got an unpleasant attitude, but he's right to be mad. He's also right to use Trevor to make Neville learn. People make it seem like he wanted to poison Neville to upset him. No. He was raising the stakes for Neville so that the love Neville had for his toad would force Neville to get his act together! Which is exactly what I'd expect from a teacher in this context dealing with a student like Neville! Fuck that, that's exactly what I would have done if I'd have had to deal with this idiot for multiple years and he still fucks up the simplest and clearest instructions. If Snape wanted Trevor hurt, he simply wouldn't have restored Trevor to his original state and killed him.

And lastly, not every unpleasant experience is a traumatic experience. One single unpleasant teacher is not going to traumatise Neville or anyone else! It's just a part of life. What, do you want everyone to be nice and coddle these kids so when they leave the safety of Hogwarts they aren't equipped to deal with people who are unpleasant? People love to project and find trauma in every unpleasant situation (for fucks sake they say DUMBLEDORE traumatised Tom when in reality Tom's a sulky baby who's mad that Dumbledore did not fawn over him like everyone else and actually called out his shit) but not every unpleasant situation is a traumatic situation!

And you know what, fuck it but some people have to go through a traumatic event to learn a fucking lesson. Dudley abused his cousin. Being "traumatised", or rather punished for his actions by being turned into a pig is what he deserved/needed, and even then did that stop him tormenting Harry? No! Draco being turned into a ferret? Yes, traumatising, but he's also a bully who needed to be taken down a peg! Neville being "traumatised" by Snape? Good! It may kick the cowardice out of him and make him a bit more cautious about dangerous potions!

Trauma is Snape being bullied by the Marauders for no reason, being abused by his father. Trauma is Harry being abused by the Dursleys. Trauma is what Ginny went through in her first year. Trauma is Neville having to see his parents there but not there when visiting them.

Trauma is NOT dealing with an unpleasant teacher.

Especially when you look at the context of when Harry Potter was written and where Hogwarts is set.

And Neville's cowardice isn't cute or endearing or something to baby, it's a fucking flaw that needs to be dealt with sternly.

[solaarbeeam]

IT AIN'T MY FAULT

streamer! inumaki toge au. fluff and crack, gn! reader

a/n :: mostly to get me back into the swing of things with writing, i HAVE been thinking abt this for a while now tho so i hope you enjoy !! i hope it's not too horrible.

It was one of the few times Toge had let you on stream, mostly because you chose not to get into the public eye when it came to things like that. However, Toge had been nothing but respectful about it, and as such, his fans only caught glimpses of you on Instagram posts or him texting you during streams.

However, this time, you had to break your own rule. Why, you may as yourself? Because Toge has been talking shit and you can't let that slide.

"You know what? fine. If you wanna keep talking all that shit, then let me get on stream and beat you in a game your chat chooses."

Now, Toge is aware that you don't really play games as religiously as he does, and you being on stream physically is something that never happens. You prefer to be out of eye shot, and he can respect that.

But he cannot, in good faith, let you talk shit like that and NOT fry you in a game. As such, he agreed to let you on stream.

Then, the chat went wild.

mc1303xx : WAIT THAT'S HIS PARTNER????

rumiwuimilumi : I CAN TREAT YOU BETTER THAN HIM PLEASEEE

Of course, they got jokingly muted by his twitch mods, in true Inumaki Toge fashion. You simply laughed and sat down on his bed.

"Alright chat, so basically, my partner over here has throwing shade in my face for the entire week, and threatened to beat me in a game of chat's choosing. So, mods will set up the poll, and then we can get started."

"You yap too much. I'm gonna beat your ass."

"Shut the fuck up."

"No, you."

"Talk to the hand."

"You are so fucking sassy."

"You love me."

"I do, but you're a little bitch."

His chat ended up choosing Mario Kart from the choices on the poll. He gets out his Nintendo, passes you the controller, and turns it on. His chat's going wild, probably the most active and loud his chat has been.

"YOU DID NOT JUST THROW A BANANA AT ME-"

"OH YES THE HELL I DID, NOW EAT MY DUST."

Gifts and Subscriptions are through the roof, stress levels are high and Inumaki is about five seconds away from throwing his switch controller out of the window as you hit him with a green shell for the fifth time.

Eventually, he did get past you, which led to demonic screeching on both ends. After all, you did proclaim that you were gonna beat him. Got to back up all of the smack talk, right?

A green shell.

An accidental derailment off the race track.

A banana.

It was a constant back and forth in what felt like one of the longest games Toge has ever played, which says a lot. In the end though, it came down to a well placed green shell that wasn't even aimed at him.

"WAIT WAIT WAIT NO!!"

"YES! SEE I FUCKING TOLD YOU I WOULD WIN!"

Just like that, his chat goes wild the minute you cross the finish-line. Toge gets up, jaws dropped and eyebrows raised in shock. You jump up, and proceed to start talking smack in his face again.

Deep down, he's really glad that you had fun. However, he has a reputation, and if you're going to keep talking smack, he's just going to have to talk smack back.

Regardless, he loves you, and as long as you had fun trashing him in Mario Kart, he's happy as well.

@kissagii

© solaarbeeam 2024

[miaisinlovewithlukehughes]

It’s so easy to love you

Luke HughesxOc/reader

Pt. 2

Okay fuckers we’re back, probably not better, but back.

I also wanna mention I fell down the stairs trying to pick out that gif so be grateful.

Warnings: language, underage drinking, kissing, also luke joking about throwing the reader in the trunk of his car? I think that’s it but again tell me if I missed anything please and thank you

After you were finished unpacking you start to make your way downstairs again. As you make ur way to the end of the staircase you are greeted with the sight of the boys brining in wood, and about 3 cases of beer. “Hey kid wanna help start the fire?” Quinn asks opening the sliding glass door to make his way to the fire pit. “You walk to the door and let all the others go out first before starting to make your way out “I sure would” you say skipping a bit towards the torch as Quinn sprays a bit of lighter fluid just to get a kick to it, you start up the torch and hold it to the wood and back up as it lights up in beautiful vibrant flames. You look up to Quinn to see him smiling at you and give a slight grin back “oh crap the chairs we brought are in the car I’ll be right back” you say setting down the torch and making your way to the front of the house. As you get to your car you open the back and make a move to grab the foldable chairs stuffed as much as they can, but before you make contact you feel a hand at your hip. Your eyes widen and in a state of panic you rush back and push the perpetrator off of you “woah! Easy there vik it’s just me” Luke says raising his hands in surrender. You place a hand over your heart “geez lukey I thought you were some creep that was gonna kidnap me, a warning maybe?” You say pushing your free hand to his chest, he moves your hand with a chuckle and pulls you into a gentle hug “sorry princess” he says with a slight kiss to your hair.

You both stay like that for a good chunk of time before you hear hooting and hollering coming from the back of the house. You both let out long sighs and let go “alright we better get back there and make sure one of them isn’t on fire” you say grabbing a chair. Luke makes a move to grab the other “my bets on Jack” he says with an annoyed look on his face. You chuckle and start to walk till you feel a finger slip into the belt loop on the back of your jeans and pulling you back. “Hey!” You yell with a smile, only to be cut off by Luke’s lips on your own, you melt into the kiss and use your free hand to tug at the back of his curls. He lets out a low groan and pulls away “okay now we really need to get back before I end up throwing you in the trunk and closing the door” he says with a glint in his eye that tells you he actually might. “Oh so you were a creep trying to kidnap me all alone, got it!” You say turning around and resuming your walk to the back of the house. He chuckles from behind you and knees you in the ass playfully, you two finally make it back to the scene of Brady on his knees and Matthew trying to aim beer into his mouth and missing completely. “Matty you need to work on your aim” you say unfolding your chair and plopping (I love that word.) down in it. “Hey guys thought you got lost on the way back with how long you were taking” Jack says with a giggle, shit shit shit, “Luke packed a chair weird and we had trouble getting it out” you lie quickly and naturally, Jack hums in acknowledgment and looks back to the boys playing with alcohol. You risk a glance over to Luke and he gives you and impressed nod, you give a ‘yeah I know I’m great’ look back and finally stand up to grab yourself and Luke a drink. You make your way back with two beers and toss one to Luke “hey you two cannot drink!” Your brother Brady slurs, you let out a hearty laugh “says you, you have beer all over you Brady!” You say with an astonished face. Quinn pats him on the back “let them have a couple, it’s not like they aren’t doing it already at college party’s” he says sending a wink your way. You smile gratefully “he’s right” Luke says cracking his open, you do have to watch him though, he gets handsy when he’s drunk, I mean how do you think duker found out?

A couple drinks in your all feeling hazy, some more than others, ahem Brady and Jack ahem. “Alright guys it’s late why don’t we take this party inside” you say sitting up from your chair. “Yep way ahead of ya” Quinn says and starts to put out the fire, you look over to Luke trying to help all the drunks inside while they’re giggling and tripping over themselves. He seems to give up not even half way through and just walks inside, you smile at them before putting on a stern face and getting ready to use ur premature mom voice. “Alright boys time to sober up and get ur asses inside… now!” You say making sure to add ur last word when they only stopped giggling a little. They all stop what they’re doing and go red in the face, then start sloppily making there way inside, tripping over each other every now and again. You all finally make it inside and you leave the door open behind you for Quinn when the fire puts out, all three boys lazily make there way up the stairs and mumble half ass goodnights, you look over at your boyfriend sitting on the couch. After you head doors close, and slam unfortunately, you scan the room and make sure Quinn isn’t coming inside before making your way over to the messy head of curls and raking your finger through them. Luke tilts his head back to look and you and smiles, he stands up and makes his way around the couch to embrace you into a warm hug. You breath in the scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky smell of the fire “goodnight Vicki” he says and kisses your lips gently “night Lukey” you say with a smile. You both move a safe distance away when you hear the wood of the stairs to the deck creek, you see Quinn appear in the door shortly after, he closes the door behind him and looks at you both. “The boys head up?” He says with a nod to the stairs “yeah thank god.” You reply in a teasing tone, he lets out a short chuckle and makes his way over to you and your Luke. He ruffles both of your guys hair “alright well goodnight Victoria, night Lukey boy” he says making his way up the stairs. You and Luke follow his trail and make your way to your own rooms, Luke slyly takes your hand into his own and looks back at you when he makes his way into his room. When he finally lets go and closes the door behind him you sigh and open your own door, you really wish you could’ve kissed him goodnight.

Okay I’m gonna stop this here cuz, I’m lazy, sorry love ya!! Also the amount of times I said stairs in this is insane I’m gonna start saying yellow brick road like actually. Guys I’m like actually sorry this is so short

[an0thergl1tch]

Remus headcanons because I am bored :

*This dude either had a giant ring of skeleton keys or can pick any lock because you know damn well you can’t keep him out of anywhere

*Logan and Remus trade information for fanfiction purposes “hey where is the safest place to stab someone I wanna give my main character trauma” “any place could kill a person however aiming for fatty areas of the stomach and thigh decreases the risk you will hit a major organ or artery” “thanks”

*Remus has every notification noise set to the Grindr ping, Janus has to silence remus’s phone when they go out in public.

*Remus doesn’t wear headphones when listening to music or watching videos in public he just plays it at max volume (he’s that dick, he would be that one guy walking around with a boombox.) He is not allowed the aux cord because otherwise he will play the raunchiest shit at max volume with all the windows down.

*Chronic iPad kid. Easiest way to shut him up is to give him a phone with angry birds on it.

*Clingy as hell, wants to go under your skin, is a biter. Also he’s fucking obsessed with fangs if you have fangs he will ask you to bite him.

*His room isn’t even scary it’s just shelves upon shelves of trinkets. Definitely has a sex toy collection somewhere though. He calls his room the sex dungeon to keep people from snooping around. Probably has a workbench somewhere with a sewing machine on it because he definitely is the type of punk to make ALL of his clothes. Makes a bunch of shit: jewelry, weapons, dolls, and probably has a assortment of taxidermy projects.

*Definitely into witchcraft and paganism, has multiple alters, some serious, some to random male celebrities Thomas has a crush on. Probably has some voodoo dolls stashed somewhere, among his very large handmade doll collection that may or may not of been due to Coraline.

*Oh he definitely has a fur suit somewhere in his room, your telling me this fucker doesn’t have one of those neon wolf fursonas, probably made it himself.

*So. Many. Scars. Half of them from Remus being a dumbass, half of them from Remus testing the limits of his immortality. “hmmm I wonder If jumping off the roof will kill me” “nope”

*Cannot take a compliment. If you compliment him he will immediately assume your trying to get in his pants. If you say it’s a compliment, he will malfunction.

*Fucking loves animals, all animals. ALL animals. Will try to pick up a wild bobcat. Along with his brother he also has the “all animals love me” Disney princess genes. Probably has befriended a murder of crows.

*Very good at making cocktails however you will be hammered after a single glass because he is quite heavy handed.

[restinslices]

HOTD SEASON 2 EPISODE 1 SPOILERS BELOW CUT! MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE!

Also warning, I am not Team Green

Aight I got some thoughts. Firstly Jace and Nyra? My heart was in pain.

Alicent saying Aemond made a youthful mistake is wild as fuck. And Aemond still being angry? Honestly him being angry has always made no sense to me. Take out the whole Vhagar thing. You threatened to kill Jace and Luke and Luke attacked you. He wasn’t even aiming for the eye. You did smth stupid cause you felt like hot shit and lost an eye. Oops. And him still being angry even after Luke is gone? Who else could you possibly be angry at? Be so fucking fr rn.

Speaking of being so fucking fr… Alicent and Criston.

I have nothing to say. Criston is still mad Nyra didn’t wanna be poor with him. It’s been over 20 years. You should’ve been on duty but instead was fucking Alicent. Absolute idiot. Kill him. I cannot stand this man.

And as much as I think Aemond is dumb for playing peekaboo with that big ass dragon, he has a point. He said smth about how his mom blames him for starting the war as if they didn’t usurp the throne. He is unfortunately spitting.

And lastly, Blood and Cheese.

What happened was bad, don’t get me wrong. However, when I heard GRRM was shook by what he saw, I was expecting WAY worse. Like, it was bad and I think both teams can agree that Helaena deserved so much better. But I was expecting to be traumatized. I’m glad I wasn’t tho cause seeing a kid being murdered would’ve been ass. Ppl kept saying it was horrifying tho and I’m assuming Blood and Cheese is only this one incident. Idk what’ll happen to the rest of her kids.

Her walking in on Alicent and Criston fucking almost made me laugh ngl. I feel like it kinda took away from the scene but oh well.

What y’all think of the first episode?

[roadkillremi]

Eddie Munson x Ghostface!Fem Reader

*I CANNOT FIND THE ARTIST FOR THIS PICTURE IF YOU KNOW WHO IT IS LET ME KNOW SO I CAN CREDIT THEM PLEASE!!*

MasterList

Warnings : MINOR DNI, Mentions Killing, Language, Smoking, Smut, P in V, Knife kink, threats,mentions selling weed, Mentions Violence (if I missed any please let me know)

I do NOT support killing!

1985

Hawkins, Indiana

Eddie lazily sopped his beer while watching the news. He was waiting on a call from his girlfriend, she said around 6 pm. It's 9:37 pm now and no one had called.

"Nearly the whole Hawkins Basketball team was murdered the other night-" The news report said impressed almost. Eddie bounced his leg in worry of his girl. She didn't fit the criteria of the current murders but he couldn't risk it. Ringing echoed through the house interrupting his thoughts. He quickly got up answering the phone, "Y/N?!".

A low chuckle came through, "No, but who might this be?". Eddie froze, it was the voice everyone talked about. The taunting calls, "listen asshat I don't have the patience-"

"You listen, you fucking bitch! I'll kill your pretty little girlfriend if you don't shut the fuck up and listen!" Eddie's silence caused the killer to laugh.

"Now, that's play a game..Edward." Eddie looked around the trailer glancing down the hall.

"Fine"

"That's a good boy. The games called 'Am I in your trailer or not' " the voice laughed.

"Listen, I don't know what you want, man. But leave me and Y/N out of this and take your games somewhere else."

"Is that your final answer? Cause if you're wrong I'll cut her throat!"

"Don't you dare fucking touch her!!" Eddie screamed into the phone. They just chuckled, "wanna hear the poor thing?". It went silent before sniffling cries were in the phone.

"Sweetie? Listen imma get you outta this. Don't worry"

"Eddie.. I'm scared.." she whined.

"I know I know. I am too, but I love you okay?" He tried to talk sweetly.

"That's enough sweet talk, pretty boy." The voice was back. Eddie tightened his fist, "Now am I in the Trailer?" The voice repeated.

"No. I think I'd notice if you were holding my girlfriend hostage in my trailer."

The voice laughed louder, "Wrong answer, Munson!". They hung up, Eddie ran into the kitchen looking for knives. All of them were gone, "looking for these?".

The killer was in Eddie Munson's living room, holding a bunch of knives with their head tilted. Eddie eyed the killer, "hiding behind a cheap Halloween mask is for cowards". They just laughed, Eddie slowly stepped forward. They pulled out a pistol aimed at him.

"no no no. I need you to listen, Mr.Munson."

Eddie could hear their smile in their voice. He stood still waiting, they walked towards him with the gun aimed. They walked on top of the coffee table.

They slowly took off the mask with their free hand. "Hey, Pretty Boy.", Eddie went wide-eyed in shock.

"Y-Y/N?" He asked softly. You nodded tossing the gun onto the couch. You stepped off the coffee table putting the knives down. All except the biggest one, "Baby don't be afraid. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You.. killed people.." he stepped back from you.

"You hated them. They treated you like shit! Treated.. us like shit.. Ever since that party when you had to sell weed, you never forgave yourself. For Jason's mistakes, I was pissed! He.. he hurt me, Eds.."

"I know, baby. But you'll get arrested.."

"no I'm not.. I framed someone else.. some jealous cheerleader that dated them all." It was silent. Your grip on the knife was tight, Eddie just looked at you.

"I had to. For you.. you said you wanted him dead. And I needed you to be innocent!" You grabbed his face softly. He looked into your eyes, "Are you mad?".

He shook his head no, "I needed to do it.." you continued. Eddie interrupted you with a kiss, pressuring his lips to yours. Eddie gave a small smile, "I was gonna kill him sooner or later.". You smiled at him kissing his cheek. You took the costume off leaving you in black jeans and a Joan Jett Tee. Eddie grabbed your hips pulling you closer.

"Once he.. touched you-" he got all choked up on words. You cupped his cheek with your free hand. He leaned into it, "I don't want him to hurt again.". His demeanor turned dark, you nodded "he won't."

"You shouldn't have scared me like that" Eddie raised his eyebrow. You smiled, " I thought it was hot, Eds.". You playfully put the knife on his jaw. He looked at you, eyes filled with lust. Eddie took your hand leading you to his room. He sat down on his unmade bed pulling your hips close. You sat on his lap wrapping your arms around him. The knife lazily on his back.

"tell me how it went with Jason."

You smiled, "it was amazing, Eddie." He grabbed your hips and started kissing your neck as you explained.

"he was so weak. He cried like a little girl begging for help". Eddie groaned softly biting into your neck. You tilted his chin up to look at you, "I cut his dick off.". He smiled softly kissing you before going back to devouring your neck. You whimpered at the feeling, "I tied him up, beated him up until his teeth fell out. I tortured him and I loved it.". You place your right hand in his untamed hair. He looked at you smiling, playfully pushing you off his lap onto the bed.

"Eddie what are you doing?" You giggled a bit seeing the glint of mischievousness in his eye. He took off his shirt revealing his tattooed torso.

"Mark me" he smiled devilishly at you. You tilted your head a bit confused. He leaned in close, you could smell the cigarette smoke and musk of him. His hair gently tickling your face.

"I want you to mark me Ms.Ghostface" he glanced down at the knife. You looked at him, "Safe word?-".

"Ozzy", you rolled your eyes at the reference. You gripped the knife scooting closer to the edge of the bed. He stood still watching you closely. You unbuttoned his jeans seeing him all heated. You smirked pulling them past his thighs. You gently pushed his boxers down revealing the left of his hip. Dark curls of a happy trail and a slight v line distracting you. Eddie chuckled petting your head softly. You gently pressed the knife into his hip marking him with your initial. He bit his lip watching you. The blood slowly creeping out from the fresh cut lines. Gently licking it while looking up at him.

"Fuck.." he groaned watching you. He stood you up gently taking the knife.

"May I?" He cupped your cheek as he asked. You nodded, he got on his knees taking your jeans off. He slid his hand over your heat. You gasped, "Awh, all worked up baby?" He teased. He slid your underwear off throwing them on his nightstand.

"For later." He winked, you playfully pushed him.

"Pervert!"

"Whoa! You marked me first" he smiled. You rolled your eyes, "Nuh-uh, I don't fuck bad little girls.". Eddie stood back up.

"I'm not a little girl, Eds!"

"I'm sorry, I don't fuck bitchy whores" he smirked standing up grabbing his jeans. You grabbed his arm, "No no no! Wait, I'll be nice!". He smiled kissing you deeply, "Good girl". You whimpered at the nickname, he went back on his knees. He rubbed your right hip with his thumb. He placed the cold metal on there carving an E into you. You hissed softly, he shot his head up.

"Is this okay? I can get the first aid kit."

"Yes it's okay, Baby!" You smiled at his concern. He nodded looking back at your hip. He licked the blood copying you.

"Mm, always so sweet for me." He looked up at you gripping your hips. He stood back up tossing the knife somewhere in his room.

"take your shirt off." He demanded. You nodded, he grabbed your chin.

"use your words."

"Yes, Sir."

He smiled at your words, you took your shirt off tossing it by your jeans.

"now your bra."

"Yes, Sir" you repeated. You reached around revealing your breasts to him. He licks his lips, "lay down and let me use you.".

You laid down placing your head on his many pillows. He smiled, "want me to use you like a sex toy?".

"Yes, please.."

"Want me to fuck all that angry out? Been so busy for me.. Doing all that work must been tiring." You nodded.

He climbed onto the bed hovering over you. He stroke himself in one hand, balancing himself in the other.

"Fuck you till your all fucked out, huh?" He kissed you before leaving a trail down your neck. His fingers gently traced over your folds. You let out a soft moan, "S-stop teasing". Eddie gave a stern look, "Are you trying to boss me around, sweetheart?". You bit your bottom lip, he moved his fingers away. You whined and reached for his hand. He grabbed your wrist pinning it to the your side.

"You may be all big and bad but in the bed I'm in charge." He whispered before kissing your neck. You nodded, Eddie sighed getting up.

"Yes, Sir! I'm sorry I'll use my words" you whined. He smiled crawling back on top of you. He kissed your lips before going back to your neck. He gently inserted his fingers in, the cold of his metal touching your core with every thrust. Eddie left bites and hickeys along our neck and chest. You whined bucking your hips up against his fingers.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll fuck you soon." He took his fingers out pulling out his member coating his cock with your juices. He lined himself up gently pushing himself in. He watched as your face contorted with pleasure. He let out a sloppy smile and started thrusting at a steady pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips.

He grasped your thighs pushing himself against your opening. You tried to speak between moans.

"F-faster... please"

Eddie smiled gripping your hips tighter speeding up his pace. He breathed heavily leaned forward giving you a kiss. You moaned into his mouth as a thank you.

"So tight for me, sweet heart." He mumbled in betwee n thrusts. He grabbed your legs putting them over his shoulders.

Your back arched at the feeling of him hitting your spongy walls over and over again. He grunted, "Baby, I'm close..".

"Me too.." you moaned out gripping the sheets tightly. Eddie groaned trying to keep himself together, "Come for me, sweetheart.". You let the coil in your stomach release. A wave of pleasure taking over.

"Atta girl" he smiled speeding up. You wiggled a bit due to the overstimulation. Eddie pulled out releasing himself on your stomach. He wiped his seed on his finger popping it in your mouth.

"You know what to do."

You sucked his finger tasting him, the salty sweet mixture. He smiled, "Good girl, I'm going to clean you up now.". He left leaving you naked on his bed. He came back with his hair in a loose bun and a wet rag. He wiped you stomach clean tossing the rag somewhere. He lit a cigarette before laying down beside you. He pulled the blanket over your body and kissed your head.

"Eddie, The mask and costume are in the living room." You looked up at him. He blew out the smoke from his cigarette.

"Go to bed, baby. I'll take care of it for you."

[alaanz]

Wasn’t expecting to cry this episode, but DFF managed it somehow.

How does so much keep happening. And Jin and Phee were hardly even in this episode.

The stars of ep 4 were very much White and Fluke. And fuck me did they take on that role head first.

Half of the bloody episode was just Fluke absolutely berating white for no fucking reason. To the point that I started laughing at how insane it was. My poor boy whites done nothing wrong and fluke said tough shit anyway.

This was a great episode. White is my absolute fav character. And Fluke is by far the most interesting character. Like I cannot get a read on this man. He keeps going back and forth. He’s shown to really care about his friends, and cried when Por died. Yet was also very selfish and couldn’t stop aiming the gun at everyone that came into his field of vision (which was sadly often White).

The whole scene with Fluke and White fighting Top, and then running outside to meet Tee and Tan is my fav so far. This is the scene that made my actually cry. Everything properly caught up and they all just stood there bawling, completely overwhelmed with the situation and everything’s that happened. Ahh, it was just great.

ALSO, can’t believe that Fluke called off the drivers so nobody’s coming to pick them up at all now. Man alive. Like the past 4 eps were hanging on this so they could finally escape. And Fluke just said ‘sorry, but I wanna be a doctor’ and fucking SMASHED the walkie talkie. What a fucker.

For me also it’s pretty clear that Top isn’t the actual killer and is instead possessed. So I really hope that Fluke hasn’t shot him. But also for dramas sake, I kinda hope he does.

Cos i do believe that the five original guys for sure played a role in Non’s death. I don’t believe any of those fuckers when they say that Non just ‘disappeared’.

Nons hunting them down in that forest and it’s probably justified tbh. Can’t believe any of these guys. Except for White. White’s done nothing wrong and very much deserves to survive all of this. He doesn’t deserve to die cos his boyfriend killed someone.

FINAL BOY WHITE!

[coldflasher]

you know i have to ask about coldwest for the ship thing

hmmm yeah, this one isn't for me really :/ not my cup of tea

jokes, can you imagine haha. i am the captain of coldwest. yo ho ho and a bottle of why-the-fuck-didn't-they-get-more-screentime

What made you ship it?

Honestly I had never even thought about shipping them until Redhead's fic "Needs Must, As the Devil Drives" got me super into Coldwestallen, and from there I spent a lot more time thinking about the Coldwest side of that dynamic and what a fun and complicated relationship that would be... then the rest, ngl, was largely built from my own headcanons and bits of dozens of fics that hopefully, one day, I will actually finish...

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

So many things!! I think the first thing that comes to mind is that I feel like Coldwest offers a great opportunity to put Iris out there in the field. The show kind of tends to keep Iris out of the action a lot. Like she is a hugely important member of the team, obviously, but she's generally sitting in S.T.A.R Labs running tech support, and aside from occasionally getting temporary speed powers or occasionally aiming a gun at a threat, she often takes a back seat to the action. Barry in particular has this tendency to want to get Iris as far away from a fight as possible, and while I get it, I love seeing Iris kick ass. We know she can shoot, throw a punch, whatever, but she rarely gets the opportunity to get out there as much, and whenever she does, it's panic button time and she gets whisked to safety. I feel like Len, with his tendency to get into trouble, his love of adrenaline and a fight, and the thrill he clearly gets while fighting, would love to have Iris on his side in that kind of situation, and he wouldn't hesitate to get her involved. He'd actually encourage it, if anything. Which also provides fun conflict with Joe, who would already be seething that this criminal is dating his daughter, but now he's encouraging her to put her life at risk and possibly commit crimes? Oh, the drama >:) I love writing Coldwest team-ups where Iris gets to use her skills as a reporter while Len uses his skills as a thief, and they kind of play off one another... with lots of back and forth arguing and snark, of course.

I also personally like that, in my view, Iris would have a better handle on Len than anyone else. Like he's more willing to let her boss him around than he would be with another partner. As mentioned, she doesn't take his shit, she's not as amused by him and she will tell him to cut the crap if he's being a dick. In contrast, though, I also feel like he'd be softer than her than he would with another partner. Sure, he'll pull her pigtails and make mean, sly comments, he wouldn't be Len if he didn't... but he also admires and respects her, he's a fan of her work, and I think that Iris is just such a kind and gentle person that I think being around her would soften him. He'd never admit it, but in my head, he's so gone for her, and while it might take a while for him to let his guard down, if you'll excuse the terrible ice pun, he'd melt for her. Like. That small smile he gives to show he's proud of his sister---that kind of moment, all this affection and pride that he keeps private and only lets out when no one's looking, but when they're alone, he lets her see it. Just a little. Sigh.

Also, I kind of like that it's such unchartered territory wrt canon. Like GOD my kingdom for more coldwest scenes, but also, the fact that we get to see so little of them together on screen means that there is so much to explore there, and canon cannot tell me no (like it would stop me anyway haha). It really does give me free reign to think about how they would interact and what kind of scenarios they'd get involved in.

Oh yeah, and I also think they're both extremely hot and I wanna see them bang seven ways to Sunday, so there's that

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I don't really know. It's such a small ship, I don't really know what opinions are out there haha. Hm... I guess maybe that I think Iris would call him babe. Cos generally Len is NOT a petname person and I think if anyone else tried to call him babe, he would make them regret it, but with Iris, he's like a cat being pet and secretly liking it but pretending not to... he's like "I'll allow it. Maybe." but secretly smug like yes. I am babe

Send me a ship and I'll answer three questions based on whether I ship it or not

[jjungkookislife]

SCREAMING and SPOILERS BELOW!!

“No fuckin’ way.” Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware.  “Were they always on this team?”  “No.” “I don’t remember them being on any teams.” They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. 

the PETTINESS of joining a TEAM instead of letting shit go! over a basketball game is WILD? Dalo Dude needs a job, a new hobby, and some THERAPY bc WHAT? you're WHOLE LIFE is focused on being an asshole to a girl he assaulted bc he got decked????

It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience.  The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand.  Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you. And your heart burns and burns. If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night.  God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 

my BABY! I would also like to face off with Dalo Dude! and Yoongi trying to comfort her but not being able to without the brother noticing ughhhh my heart! He's doing his best but ugh I wish they could hold hands at least without it being odd but we all know brother would flip.

“Play.”  Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still…  One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.”  Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise.  “And you’re paying me double.”  Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him. 

she's trying her best! and Yoongi watching her to make sure she's okay ugh i love them! i wish she could kiss him. she must be feeling so vulnerable and terrified of what could happen :(

But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes. Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.”  Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you, “Don’t worry, love.”  You stare. “This will be over soon.” 

oof, i would not want to be on the other end of their stares! and the silent communication, ugh my babies! and even Jimin is extra protective, they all love each other so much. and Jimin calling her love ughhhh please they're all amazing I'm gonna cry!

“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!”  That was close. Way too close.  Get it together. 

The way she almost called him BABY!!!! my heart!!! I'm imagining her and Yoongi at their kids' basketball games, both of them cheering them on ugh :( they deserve all the happiness in the world!

But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs.  And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy.  When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense.  On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action.  Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats.  Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.

the absolute TENSION!!! i would not be able to sit and watch! it seems like things are heading south too quickly, especially with everyone's tempers elevated. and the shoving? ugh it's asking for a fight to start and i support brother decking the dude in the face. he deserves it!

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring.  Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out.  “Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.”  “After what he did to you?”  The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…”  The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite, “I can’t let that shit go.”  “Sorry, doll.”  “Please just—” 

Yoongi absolutely destroying them on the court is amazing! ugh just imagining him is 💦💦💦 and him flipping them off ugh something about cocky!Yoongi just sends my brain into overdrive oof i cannot! being able to feel the heat radiating off him, man is mad MAD and protective fuck okay that's hot. and the DOLL you had to throw it in and I'm sobbing 💦💦💦

Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.

I wonder if the brother was doing all this to lead to a fight now that i know what happens 👀

Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo. Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful. The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning.  Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.

me on my way to defend Yoongi on the court! ^ I can't believe he got pushed, both sides were gunning for each other but I'm surprised a huge brawl didn't break out. and the cockiness oozing from Yoongi, especially to Dalo Dude, ugh he makes me so mad!

Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change.  And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 

THEY WON!!!!!!

But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder.  Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you.  Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.

I LOVE them ALL! they're so protective of each other, i know if it was jimin or the brother instead, they'd all still be doing the same and that's what's so great about this friend group :)

God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on.  And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?”  “Yeah, it’s all good.” “You sure? That looked…” Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.”  Mother fucker. 

the VISUAL oof Yoongi all sweaty and hot with his long black hair oof A WHOLE ASS DEMON!!! 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

 “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—” “What are y’all talking about over there!” Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.” “I picked already!” “Then let’s go then.”

her little confession got interrupted but yoongi is ALWAYS so quick on his feet! I wonder if at this point brother still thinks Yoongi and reader are just friends? bc they're usually off together in one way or another 👀👀

In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?”  And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod.  Weird. 

is this about Dalo Dude and the Dickhead crew he assembled to fight Yoongi and his friends? 👀👀👀

The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some.  Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars. Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do—  “Taehyung.” “Get her out of here. Now.” To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.”  “No! What the fuck—”  “We’re leaving.”

Dalo Dude just can't let it go! To surround Jimin and brother's cars? did they just assume those were their cars or were they weirdos and stalked them to get the information about what car they drive and i remember brother was afraid that Dalo Dude would show up at their house while he was away? so I'm sure some form of stalking was involved :(

There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart.  “Babe, we have to go now.”  “No, let me go!”  They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness. 

Poor baby and Tae too! Ugh, I'm sure they're way outnumbered. is it Jimin, brother, and Yoongi? ughhhh i'd be so worried too, hell i'd probably call the cops myself bc there's no way this could end well

Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort.  Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him? Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 

Ah, i love the way you described how Tae was looking for comfort by playing his favorite movie. he must be so worried about Jimin as well, and there's nothing he can do other than make sure you don't head back there even if he might want to as well. He's still taking care of reader despite his own worries :(

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?”  “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.”   “Is this gonna happen again?”  That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.” 

She was so worried for Yoongi! and her brother! and I'm glad she called them out but I'm also glad they took care of it bc none of them deserve to live in fear of their safety or reader's over a basketball game and an asshole who doesn't know when to quit. hopefully, this is the last of Dalo Dude :(

When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling, “Is there something you wanna say to me?”  “There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.”  “It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.”  “It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?”  “If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?”  “We know.”  “Do you?” “Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”

I'm glad she was able to confront brother! it was stupid what they did but they did it to protect her and keep it from happening again. i can't imagine the fear she felt not knowing if they were okay or not. I'm so glad they all made it out alive

Yuri: Outgoing Call “Hello?” “Hey, I’m not coming.” “You okay?” “I’m going to Yoongi’s.” “Yoongi’s? Why?” Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know.  Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else.  “Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.” “Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—” “Please don’t say anything. Please.” “I won’t. Not about this.” “Thank you.” “Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

She was so worried about Yoongi, she spilled her secret. poor baby she needs a hug and some comfort. and then having to inform Yuri about the fighting ugh my heart breaks for everyone

Yoongi: Outgoing Call What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with.  But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else. 

HIM NOT ANSWERING MAKES ME ANXIOUS like i know he's upset over it and she's mad and ugh and then him not answering all the other calls. i wanna SCREAM AT HIM but i understand :(

After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear.  Finally. “Hello.”  “Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside.  “You’re here?”  “Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell.  But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame.  “Not tonight.” Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—”  “Not tonight—” “—you don’t let me in I’m—” “Go home—” “I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!” And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.” “No.” “Go home.”  “No!”  He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching,  “Please.”

my heart is breaking into pieces all over again! RYEN! i can't handle this, I'm just a baby when it comes to angst. ughhh I'm gonna cry again. she cares so much and he didn't want her to see him all beat up especially after what happened and her anger in the car. i just want everything to be okay again and i hope Dalo Dude fucks off for good and i hope him and his fucking little friends got it worse >:(

You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine.  Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight.  You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you.  Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice, “…No.” 

she deserves the world! she's there despite him wanting her to leave (but not really) and ugh i just love her! I want nothing but happiness for them too!

But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck— “What the fuck ,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the— A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening. As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground.  And your breath cuts like it’s your last.  Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room.  And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning.  Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do? “I told you, doll.” “Go home.”

I can't imagine walking into that and not only seeing Yoongi's face but the absolute wreck of his living room. Like what was going through his mind? was it just the fight with Dalo Dude or was it everything else pent up? ugh he needs a long hug

“Stop.” “No.” “Just go, please.” “No.” This hurts.  This really, really hurts.  Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is. Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain. 

my poor heart CAN'T TAKE THIS RYEN WHYYYYYY I'm seriously going to cry again :(

But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room.  In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment.  Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

"and carrying his dark clouds" ugh i love that! I can imagine him just distressed, frustrated, feeling everything at 100. and he's hurt to top it all off. he's vulnerable, too vulnerable and ughhhh i just need to hug him I'm so sad for him

“Do what? I’m helping you.”  “Who said I needed it?”  And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?”  “You think I’m joking?”  “You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?”  “I say a lot of things.”  …Oh.

Oh. I think this is one of the hardest chapters to read, there's so much pain and hurt and i feel it in my chest but it's so wonderfully written i just want to curl up in a mountain of blankets and cry :(

“You know what? You do say a lot of things.” “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.”  As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?”  Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.”  “Not tonight what.”  “We aren’t doing this tonight.”  “The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?”  “Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.”  Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.”  He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?”  “I am.”  “Wow.” 

this scene hurt so much! i respect reader for not shutting down and letting it go because i would have. it hurts so much just reading it, like little pinpricks in my heart :( i can imagine the smile being almost vicious? mocking? his walls are up sky high and they're both hurting so much! RYEN WHYYYYYYYYY

“You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?”  “Do you even know?”  “No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!”  “That’s cus—”  Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.”  For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…”  All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time? Fine then.  “You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.” “I swear to—I just said not tonight.” 

there are so many emotions running through them. i don't know who to hug first, I'm so sad and heartbroken. they've gone through so much already and they haven't even told Brother yet. my poor babies! i hope they have the happiest life imaginable after all this bc i can't handle them hurting much longer :(

Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.”  Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?”  “Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.”  And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock,  “Who asked you?”  Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 

I don't think I've ever had my heart broken this many times in my life! Pain. Nothing but PAIN and suffering. I'm blinking back tears, and like that ugly sticky feeling of heartbreak just seeps into your pores, poor reader she's just trying to help, she was worried and it's all just too much :(

You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.”  “That’s what I said.”  Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare.  You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time.  “You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.”  God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts . You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center.  Silence fills the room. And it rains. It pours.

my baby! :(

But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open— Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—   And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming .  “God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—”  “Whoa, hold u—”  “I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you— Fuck —”  “Just listen—”   “Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—” 

poor baby! it was scary reading about the fight! there were so many of Dalo Dude's friends/people to fight them. and Tae was also worried. and then to go from all that worry and stress to Yoongi being so cold, hurt, and his belongings destroyed? they both need hugs!

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?”  “No ,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again.  And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now.  “Shouldn’t even fucking be here.”  “When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass.  “He’s still home.”  “So?” “Shouldn’t you—” “Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.”  Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you.  Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.”  Your eyes are ice.  “Are you.”  You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside.  And Yoongi cracks like lightning.  “God damn it.” 

the absolute whiplash! but also the choking! the stubbornness! the TENSION! not giving a damn that brother is home but i don't think he'd go to Yoongi's after everything but STILL! also, "Yoongi cracks like lightning" has to be one of my favorite lines! I can imagine everything perfectly in my head!

Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain.  Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life.  “Stubborn.”  “Coward.” 

THE ABSOLUTE TENSION AND NEED! Ryen! I love your writing so much! <3

“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.”  “Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.”  His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.”  “Make me.”

MAKE ME!! MAKE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself.  “Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length.  Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that.  With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what.  “Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?”  You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat.  “Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?”  And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.”  And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it.  Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground.  “Holy fuck.” 

RYENNNNNNNNNNNNN! to quote Yoongi, "HOLY FUCK" this is so HOTTT 🥵🥵🥵🥵

Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss.  Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.”  “Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall.  You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact.  “Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.”  “Can’t make me do shit—” Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.” 

this is THE HOTTEST YOONGI TO EVER EXIST OMG OMG OMGGGGGGGGGG he will live RENT FREE IN MY TINY LITTLE HEAD FOREVER 🥵🥵🥵🥵

see above gif oof

Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.”  “Asshole—”  A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.”  “I’ll say it if I wanna say it—”  Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?”  You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.”  “Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.”  “Make me. Bet you can’t.”  Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.”  Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear.  “You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.”   Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that.  “Fuckin’ thought so.” 

Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?”  “Please!”  “Mm. Not loud enough.”  “Yoongi, please.”  “Oh, we’re saying names now?”  Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.”  “Do it yourself then.” 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…”  “Nah.”  This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.”  “You’ll come when I say you can.”  “Please! …Please..” “You done being a brat?”  “No! Fuck. Yes!”  “Then fucking come.” 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH PART 2

Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.”  You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes…  They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.”  “Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale.  “There you go. Keep going.”  You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is.  “Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.”  You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?”  “Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—”  You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all. “I’m sorry.” 

i LOVETHEM SO MUCHHHHHHH

“Breathe , angel.” 

“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.”  “Like what?”  “Just… Like this.”  “You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—”  He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out.  And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—”  “I’m here.”  “So please don’t push me away.”  “I won’t.”  “I know you don’t make promises but—”  “I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear. 

my poor babies! we need to schedule an hour long group hug! :(

That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs. And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap.  He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off?  Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.”  Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—”  “Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—”  “I’m fine.”  “You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those? 

HE GOT HURT! MY BABY! I'm gonna cry, I can't handle this :(

There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too.  But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever.  “You got hurt cus I said to play.”  “Nope.”  “I wore the outfit that day.”  “Doesn’t matter.”  “And lost my friends at the club.”  “No.” 

she blames herself? :'( okay, I am SO SERIOUS ABOUT THE GROUP HUG NOW bc my baby NEEDS IT (and me too bc i am so sad :()

“I love you.”  Time bursts. Your chest glows.  Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion.  And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?”  You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door.  His eyes.  Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms.  No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance.  “I love you, doll.”

I was NOT expecting this AT ALL! They're IN LOVE! HE LOVES HER AND HE TOLD HER!!!! and then you threw in the DOLL just to make it ache a little more!

“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.”  What? “I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—”  You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you.  And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy . You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin, “God damn it, I—” “Yoongi—” “—so fucking much.” Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue.  Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay.  He loves you.  Fuck, he loves you?  You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage. He loves you.

he loves her! This is so cute! I wanna hug him, he just couldn't hold back anymore and he feels he doesn't deserve it but HE DOES! he totally DOES! and he's been fighting it for who knows how long! I'd love to see when he realizes! The first moment of "Oh, fuck, I love her!"

Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.”  “I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—”  “It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes.  Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?”  “We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.”  Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?”  Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional. Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.”  Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.”  “I want what you want, doll.”  “Then it’s okay.”  

RYEN! i wasn't expecting THIS either! THE L word and the ummmm ya know! AHHHHHHHHH I know i say THIS a lot but SCREAMING CREAMING AND CRYING!!!!! i should get that tattooed somewhere at this point lmao!

“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again. 

MY LOVE!!!!!

As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside.  “Holy fucking shit.”   “Yoongi—”  “Fuck.”   Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come.  No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too.  Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?”  And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.”  You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.”  “No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.”  “Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.”  Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.”  “Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it.  “You’re a little too perfect right now.”

THIS IS PERFECT! THEY'RE PERFECT!!! IM IN LOVE!!!

“Taking me so well like this.”  “I—” “So fucking tight.” Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.”  Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you.  “Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want.  Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!”  “Uh uh.”  “Please—please—” 

THE WAY I WANNA HOWL AT THE FUCKING SKY!!!!! IM NOT OKAY BUT OOOOOOF RYEN!

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—”  “Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut.  Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles.  You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.” “No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.” 

THAT's SO HOT! He thought he could hold out but he was so CLOSE AND UGHHHHH

“What, love.” 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.”  His eyes hold the heavens and the seas.  You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough. You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from. Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you.  All of you. Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real? You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time. Every single stop.

They both said "I love you" it makes me so happy! I'm sad Yoongi got hurt but I hope that's the last of Dalo Dude so they can just be happy with each other.

As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times.  When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.” “Oh, I already know.” “K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.” You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”

"Don't take this the wrong way" my baby lol he's a cutie! but also, I see what you did there and I will absolutely lose my shit if that "one day" happens!

“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.”  “I know.”  “I don’t wanna lose you.” “It won’t happen again.”  “That’s what you said last time.”  Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.”  “Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.”  When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 

Nah, Dalo Dude needs to get a job, a hobby, a life and quit his stupid shit! who follows someone home? it's not that serious men are scary! I hope they don't ever have to deal with something like this again.

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out,  “Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.”  Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer.  “Babe?” No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet.  Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.” If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.” You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough.  Never close enough. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.” After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter. “This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…” It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything— “It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 

Ryen! I can't cry again! Why must he suffer my poor heart!

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.”  When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.” “Yoongi…” “It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.” “Then… Those three months…” “One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 

:( i'm so heartbroken

“My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.” The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.” “I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.” “What if he does?” You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?” Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.” “Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?”  “Who do you think you bought those groceries for?”  Oh. Wait. “What?”  Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?” Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that.  Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops.  “One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

I wonder if the brother knows or suspects. i mean who better to take care of your sister and love your sister than your best friend, I'm just saying lol but he is sneaky! he gets to have her for a whole week! i hope they enjoy it immensely! they deserve it!

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.” It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?” “Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.” Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!” “Lies.” “How much are you betting, doll.” “How much are you willing to lose, babe.” “This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.”  “You did threaten to kick me out before.”  “Huh? When?” “That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.”  The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!”  He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.”  “Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.”  “You love it.”  “I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.”  “No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.”  “Guess what.” 

I want her to meet the cat and get her a little bed inside! my babies are happy! Their banter makes me happy, I'm happy for them tho i might cry from the cuteness of it

“I just fucking love you, doll.” 

I LOVE HIM

“I love fucking you, too.” 

the little SNEAK

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.”  …What? No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything— “I wanna do this the right way.”  Oh.  Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking.  Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?”  When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.”  Oh. Oh, shit . Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden… Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself.  When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides. And right as moonlight shines through his blinds. “I’ll tell him everything.”

Yoongi! I hope he does tell brother and I hope it goes well! I'm glad they're at this point bc my heart can't take more! especially this coupled with the events of the Halloween party :(

Ryen! Thank you for breaking my heart and putting it back together! I cried a lot but there were a lot of sweet moments to make it all better! I can't wait to see what happens next! I adore them so much! Thank you so much for sharing! 💜💜💜

broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg

title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god

smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))

-

-

There’s no way.

How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time? 

“No fuckin’ way.”

Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware. 

“Were they always on this team?” 

“No.”

“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”

They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd. 

It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience. 

The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.

Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand. 

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night. 

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 

“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.

“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”

“Play.” 

Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still… 

One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.” 

Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise. 

“And you’re paying me double.” 

Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him. 

But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?” 

After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.” 

Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.” 

Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention. 

But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.

Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.” 

Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,

“Don’t worry, love.” 

You stare.

“This will be over soon.” 

-

-

The game is… just a game. For now.

No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.

Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.

And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet. 

“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!” 

That was close. Way too close. 

Get it together. 

But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs. 

And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy. 

However. 

When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense. 

On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action. 

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 

Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.

Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you. 

You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks, 

“I need you all to calm down.” 

“No can do, coach.” 

“Not if they aren’t.” 

Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived? 

Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder. 

And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too. 

Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.” 

“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.” 

“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?” 

Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s. 

And you don’t like it one bit. 

But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up. 

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 

Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed. 

Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out. 

“What?” 

“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.” 

“After what he did to you?” 

The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…” 

Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,

“I can’t let that shit go.” 

“Yoongi.” 

“Sorry, doll.” 

“Please just—” 

Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back. 

Only for him to be just out of reach. 

-

-

After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 

From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill. 

And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead. 

Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on. 

Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.

If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck! 

Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.

Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.

The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning. 

Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.

A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench. 

What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger. 

But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands. 

Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win. 

All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.

It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate. 

Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change. 

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 

Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight. 

Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees. 

And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.

-

-

Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy. 

But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder. 

Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you. 

Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.

It’s making you wonder if… 

Nah. 

That’s still too big a reach. 

When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night. 

Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”

Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”

“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”

“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”

Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—

“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!” 

Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”

“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”

“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight. 

God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on. 

Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?” 

Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“You sure? That looked…”

Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.” 

Motherfucker. 

Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 

Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.” 

“Mm.”

Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”

“What are y’all talking about over there!”

Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.

Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night. 

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 

Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky. 

In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?” 

And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod. 

Weird. 

But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?” 

“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.” 

We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.” 

Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.” 

“You’re whipped.” 

“No, you.” 

“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.  

And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat. 

The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some. 

Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do— 

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake. 

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud. 

Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!” 

To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.” 

“No! What the fuck—” 

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart. 

“Babe, we have to go now.” 

“No, let me go!” 

They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?

You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness. 

Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts. 

Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive. 

Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.

And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.

Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.

Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—

As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”

“Do what!”

“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”

“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”

No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—

Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”

“Stop and just think for a second—”

“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”

“Dumb as fuck!” 

Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.

Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.” 

From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure. 

“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much. 

“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.

Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…” 

“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.” 

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 

Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort. 

Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 

Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard. 

Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”

When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”

Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut. 

You want to believe him. You do. You do. 

But hope may be a bitch. 

So you don’t. 

-

-

Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort. 

You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating. 

The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”

With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.” 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”

“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—” 

You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?” 

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 

Oh. 

“Your brother’s here, too.” 

“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.” 

“Umm.. Yeah.” 

As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.” 

It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—” 

“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes. 

You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.” 

“He was gonna—”

“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up. 

And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?” 

That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.” 

Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?” 

“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.” 

“Fuck that.” 

“Huh?” 

What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.” 

“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.” 

“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.” 

And you mean that. 

“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.” 

So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 

-

-

You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.

Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.

And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen. 

-

-

Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.

Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.

They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid. 

As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 

“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.” 

“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.” 

But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room, 

“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?” 

Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”

Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out, 

“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?” 

You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.” 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”

Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not. 

And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out. 

Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted. 

But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.” 

“I will.”

“I’m serious.” 

“I will.”

Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…

No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends. 

So you leave to go pack without another word. 

It’s raining. 

Hard.

And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up. 

With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do. 

Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either. 

So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you. 

Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened. 

Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you? 

A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—

Your eyes burn. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring. 

Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick. 

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know. 

Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else. 

Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—

“Hello?”

“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”

“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”

“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 

Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with. 

But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else. 

After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park. 

Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside. 

And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 

But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.

Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.

Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer. 

After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear. 

Finally. “Hello.” 

“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside. 

“You’re here?” 

“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell. 

But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame. 

“Not tonight.”

Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—” 

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”

Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go. 

And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”

“No.”

“Go home.” 

“No!” 

He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching, 

“Please.”

Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage. 

You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine. 

Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight. 

You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you. 

Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice, 

“…No.” 

You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.

And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that. 

But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—

“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—

A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.

As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground. 

And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 

Shards. 

Pieces.

Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room. 

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.

No, no, no. Get rid of it. 

Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 

A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.

What did he do, what did he do?

Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.

Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.

Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is. 

Shit, this is everywhere. 

When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.

“Stop.”

Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts. 

This really, really hurts. 

Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.

But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going. 

Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain. 

“I got it.” 

“Let me do it.” 

“Your brother needs you.”

“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”

It hurts.

He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.

But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room. 

When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way. 

In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment. 

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed. 

This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.

You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away. 

One more. Two more. Another one here.

As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.

Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.

The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore. 

Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse. 

Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.” 

“I still need to—” 

“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.” 

“Do what? I’m helping you.” 

That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting. 

But ice. 

“Who said I needed it?” 

And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?” 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?” 

“I say a lot of things.” 

…Oh.

That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder. 

Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”

Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.” 

As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?” 

Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.” 

“Not tonight what.” 

“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 

“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.” 

Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.” 

He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?” 

“I am.” 

“Wow.” 

That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?” 

“Do you even know?” 

“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!” 

“That’s cus—” 

Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.” 

For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…” 

All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?

Fine then. 

“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”

“I swear to—I just said not tonight.” 

Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.” 

Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.” 

And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock, 

“Who asked you?” 

Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 

You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare. 

You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time. 

“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.” 

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center. 

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—

Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—  

And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming. 

“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—” 

“Whoa, hold u—” 

“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—” 

“Just listen—” 

“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—” 

Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. 

“I swear to—” 

You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders. 

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 

“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again. 

And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now. 

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 

“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass. 

“He’s still home.” 

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.” 

Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you. 

Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.” 

Your eyes are ice. 

“Are you.” 

You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside. 

And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 

“Goddamn it.” 

Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk. 

Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain. 

Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life. 

“Stubborn.” 

“Coward.” 

Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth, 

“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.” 

“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.” 

His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.” 

“Make me.”

Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions. 

And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?

This is liberation. 

You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself. 

“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length. 

Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that. 

With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what. 

“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?” 

You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat. 

“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?” 

And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.” 

And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it. 

Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground. 

“Holy fuck.” 

Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss. 

Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.” 

“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall. 

You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact. 

“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.” 

“Can’t make me do shit—”

Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.” 

Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—

Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.” 

Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside. 

And it’s maddening. “Please!” 

“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall. 

And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes. 

It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely. 

“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust. 

“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.” 

You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.” 

And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?” 

“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach. 

Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway. 

Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth. 

“What was that?” 

“I said fuck you!” 

“Thought so.” 

Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.

“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.” 

“Fuck—!” 

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver. 

Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.” 

“Asshole—” 

A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.” 

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 

Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?” 

You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.” 

“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.” 

“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 

Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.” 

Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear. 

“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.” 

Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that. 

“Fuckin’ thought so.” 

When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure. 

Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down. 

The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension. 

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 

“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!” 

“What, doll.” 

“Please!” 

“Nah.” 

Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt. 

Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close. 

Every. Single. Time. 

Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?” 

“Please!” 

“Mm. Not loud enough.” 

“Yoongi, please.” 

“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.” 

“Do it yourself then.” 

Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.

And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 

His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—

Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…” 

“Nah.” 

This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.” 

“You’ll come when I say you can.” 

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?” 

“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong. 

Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.” 

You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.” 

Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command, 

“Then fucking come.” 

And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin. 

Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened. 

Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice. 

“I said again.” 

Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone. 

“Yoongi—” 

A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place. 

“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.” 

You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—

“Baby.” 

But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs. 

“Babe.” 

“I—I—” 

Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.” 

You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes… 

They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.” 

“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale. 

“There you go. Keep going.” 

You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is. 

“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.” 

You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?” 

“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—” 

You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“Babe.” 

“You told me so many times—” 

“Breathe, angel.” 

You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice. 

“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Just… Like this.” 

“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—” 

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 

And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—” 

“I’m here.” 

“So please don’t push me away.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I know you don’t make promises but—” 

“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear. 

Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore. 

“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Shower.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on. 

As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside. 

Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?” 

Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.” 

That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.

And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap. 

He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off? 

Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.” 

Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—” 

“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those? 

Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Promise.” 

And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release. 

There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too. 

But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever. 

“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 

“Nope.” 

“I wore the outfit that day.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“And lost my friends at the club.” 

“No.” 

Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have, 

“How about we share it.” 

Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.” 

“Okay.” 

After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.” 

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 

His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain. 

Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.” 

“Duh.” 

He’s himself again. 

And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too. 

That’s all you both need to feel peace. 

-

-

You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head. 

But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed. 

Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head. 

“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”

Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.

In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—” 

Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.” 

Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…” 

Scroll, scroll. 

“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?” 

Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again. 

Scroll, scroll. 

“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”

“I love you.” 

Time bursts.

Your chest glows. 

Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion. 

And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?” 

You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door. 

His eyes. 

Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms. 

No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance. 

“I love you, doll.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do. 

Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe? 

No. 

Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters. 

“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.” 

What?

“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—” 

You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you. 

And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue. 

Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay. 

He loves you. 

Fuck, he loves you? 

You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.

He loves you.

Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?

Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man. 

There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything. 

“Yoongi, I—”

He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”

Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.” 

“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not.”

“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.” 

After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.” 

There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself. 

“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.” 

“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall. 

None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.

When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides. 

And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.

His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts. 

“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.

“Knew what?”

“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”

You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?” 

“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.” 

Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.” 

“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—” 

“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes. 

Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?” 

“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.” 

Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?” 

Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.

Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.” 

Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.” 

“I want what you want, doll.” 

“Then it’s okay.”  

Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him. 

But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give. 

When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined. 

And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking. 

“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again. 

His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two. 

As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside. 

“Holy fucking shit.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Fuck.” 

Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come. 

No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too. 

Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?” 

And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.” 

You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.” 

“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.” 

“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.” 

Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.” 

“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it. 

“You’re a little too perfect right now.”

Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”

“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”

His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?” 

“What—”

Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?” 

Again. 

You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.” 

You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?” 

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.” 

“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.” 

The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire. 

And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything. 

“Taking me so well like this.” 

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you. 

“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want. 

Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!” 

“Uh uh.” 

“Please—please—” 

You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful. 

Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion. 

And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists. 

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 

“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut. 

Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles. 

You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.” 

He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down. 

Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel. 

“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.” 

Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?” 

But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised. 

As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.” 

Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper. 

And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.” 

“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.” 

“A secret?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.” 

Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.” 

When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.” 

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 

You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.

You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.

Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you. 

All of you.

Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?

You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.

Every single stop.

It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world. 

Swelling, you already feel close. 

But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble. 

This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi. 

And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.

Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again. 

How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.

“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.

Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep. 

“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again. 

Does he want what you want? Is he ready again? 

As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times. 

When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”

Yoongi only grins. 

And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.

Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence. 

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 

After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning. 

Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection. 

“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time.” 

Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 

When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 

Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 

“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 

Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”

If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”

You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 

Never close enough.

His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.

“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”

It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 

When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”

“Then… Those three months…”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 

Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 

“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”

Oh. That’s news to you. 

“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 

“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”

Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”

“What if he does?”

You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”

Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 

“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 

Oh. Wait. “What?” 

Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”

Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 

Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 

“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 

And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 

Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 

Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”

It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”

Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”

“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 

“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 

“Huh? When?”

“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 

The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 

He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 

“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 

“You love it.” 

“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 

“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 

“Guess what.” 

Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 

But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 

Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 

Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 

As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 

At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 

Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 

When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 

“I can!” 

Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 

His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 

This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 

And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 

Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”

After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”

You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 

Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”

Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 

…What?

No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—

“I wanna do this the right way.” 

Oh. 

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 

Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 

When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 

Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…

Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 

When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.” 

-

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tbc. :)

-

so... how did it go! | join the server!

a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[that-one-weird-kid-from-school]

The three-coloured flower

Roses are red, violets are blue.

Wait a minute, who the fuck are you?

Orange blossoms are not orange, but at least they're a star.

Don't expect me to know who you are.

There she sits, a quite nice young ma'am.

I'm not the person you think I am.

Don't be fooled, her mind is a wreck.

I'm not the one with a leash around their neck.

She's picking flowers, she is inclined.

I speak free, I speak my mind.

She stays there, she doesn't know how to run.

I know how to have fun.

Picking flowers is what she does best.

You know, an idea hatched out it's nest.

Eating flowers is what she does best.

How much will you be scared, let's give it a test.

Being flowers is what she does best.

When I share everything inside my chest.

Her head isn't screwed on right.

I can't have a normal day, a normal night.

She is what she is, don't expect more.

Every thought I have always comes back to gore.

The only meaningful feeling she has is fright.

Livers are black, lungs are white.

Feeling is what she does, yet everything is put down.

Blood is red, but eventually, it turns brown.

She doesn't know anything, this young little missy.

Okay, I'll stop, this is making me dizzy...

She's not in control of her head.

Very dark thoughts accompany me in my bed.

Her every little action, she asks why?

Wondering all the different ways I can die.

She knows the truth, she's being controlled.

Replaying all the pictures I have owned.

Her actions are lead, like a dog on a leash.

I would murder myself, I can't, but I wish.

She has accepted this, this is a fact.

But there are not many people I want to impact.

There is nothing that she can do.

I'm not a monster, not towards you.

But yet, she is scared, she is afraid.

I'm just making a game that needs to be played.

But she can't tell anyone, no she cannot.

It was probably not a game, I don't know, I forgot.

Because there is not a soul that can relate.

I'm just doing what feels great.

She is alone, she has no one.

You wanna hear something fun?

There is no one to listen and linger.

What if one day I chop off my finger?

So she breaks down, her emotions falling out.

It would be so hilariously fun, no doubt.

Her screams are golden, her tears are white.

It would be a great experience, full of delight.

Yet she was dry, she did not shed a single tear.

To mix all of the adrenaline, pain and fear.

She likes to keep all her tears inside a bottle.

Maybe combined with a little throttle?

But if she cried, it would be so much, she could swim.

You know, it is so much better here without him.

Her words are stuck in her throat, it feels like choking.

The room is so quiet when I don't hear him nagging.

If only he was here to save the day.

Hey, don't pretend you can't hear what I say!

When there was a plan, he made sure that she would commit.

Listen here, you ungrateful piece of shit!

He made sure that she would follow through.

Shut up, listen, he doesn't know you like I do!

He would not immediately insult her directly in her face.

Okay, sure, but you and him don't fit in the same place.

He was always here, he is not just a guest.

But you should follow my lead, I know best.

He is logical, he follows rules, he has aim.

That is because you and I are the same.

He does not differ-

Shh, don't follow that sniffer.

He helped her go the right way.

But weren't his actions always a little grey?

He needs to be a bit strict to help her go by.

B.I., he's the only reason why you cry!

He needs to be a bit strict to help her go by.

If you're talking, you need to look me in the eye.

He needs to be a bit strict to help her go by.

Stop repeating and just tell me why.

No need to, he's not bad, he is good as he is.

But you know when you're with me, you're in pure bliss.

Life is not just about pleasure, sometimes she needs to work.

I still don't like how you always listen to this stupid jerk.

He can be a little harsh, he can be a little rude.

See? I told you not to trust this old crude.

But she has heard worse coming from you.

Hey, I was joking, you know that's what I do.

She is tired, she wants this to be over already.

Okay, lightning round, hold on steady.

She is waiting.

I want to talk about him, why I am hating.

He did provide productivity, he did provide that.

But after you work, you get tired and fall flat.

He acts like he cares, he looks empathetic.

Yet he's not charging, he's just pathetic.

He always works, he's never joyful.

Why do you have him? He's just awful.

He always just works and works and works and works.

He's useless, I have all the perks.

He just works and works and nothing more.

Did you forget that I always bring the gore?

He is useless, everyone can see.

Kick him out, let it just be you and me.

He is not fully us, he is at least halfway an outsider.

With him gone, our connection can grow tighter.

That is an opportunity no one can deny.

There is only us two, just you and I.

You are pink, I am red.

Two thoughts accompanying the same head.

We all know green is the opposite of pink.

Of course he's not you, what else could you think?

This is an objective worth pursuing.

Yet you keep standing there, all cute looking.

What are you two idiots doing?

Her eyes light up, he is back.

Green, you cunt, what the fuck?

The number of crude insults, I see, you'll never lack.

She thought why didn't he come sooner than before.

Ha ha, joking, joking, but seriously, what are you here for?

I'm not here for you, I know you find me a bore.

She still felt scared, but at least she feels more relieved.

Oh, interesting, that's great to hear, now leave.

I'm sorry, but that is not up to you to decide, I believe.

She fears that this will turn into a riot.

I don't think so, me and her are gonna stay here in private.

Quiet.

Oh no, they're gonna yell...this is it.

Awe, are you too pussy to say anything, you son of a bit-

No, I'm done, this isn't getting anywhere, no more poetry talk!

Oh, you little piece of shit!

I don't care, I am here in the first place to say that your game with B.I. needs to be over.

And you think you can decide when it's time to stop? You think you're better than me?

You're incompetent, of course I'm better than you. It is 2 AM, normally I wouldn't care about your negligent behaviour, but now B.I. needs to sleep.

Oh, I didn't know your job was to tell B.I. how to live their life.

My job, on part, is to provide logic and reason, like if there was a conversation that you two have with no signs of stopping even past 2 AM, I step in and stop your conversation before B.I. loses more sleep, and B.I. will listen to me because they know that I speak the truth.

Ha, and you think that B.I. will listen to you, just because you told her? How about we ask B.I. and she can tell you to your face that she wants to stay with me. Right, B.I.?

...Uhh...I...

Don't bother, I can tell you're stressed, you don't have to speak if you don't have to.

Don't try to act all Mr Nice Guy, we don't have amnesia.

I'm not trying to be extra kind of nice, I'm just treating B.I. with some basic human respect. I know you get off on removing that respect, but I'm not gonna let you humiliate B.I. this time because he's going to bed, with neither me nor you being anyway near her.

Oh, fuck you, you know that? You always steal B.I. whenever you want to, whenever it's convenient for you, do you see me stealing-

Yes.

Okay, maybe I do steal it sometimes, but not as much as you, you do it all the time!

That is because B.I. has a new public account that they have to keep active, that was your idea as well, remember?

Yeah, but you're overdoing it, working for this is all they do now.

Well, you need to put in some time to make good-quality art for people to enjoy.

WELL, I don't think you reason that selfless, I think that you want B.I. all to yourself, you-

Time is up.

What?

It is now 3 AM, we've been talking for too long, the conversation is over and B.I. needs to sleep.

But-

Now!

[askrockandfriends]

???: "Ever since I was young... those events have played on repeat in my mind. The senseless killings of my parents and grandfather... the reason why I pursue my no-good bastard of an uncle so relentlessly now. It all started when that son of a bitch, fueled by my grandfather's disapproval of him going against the family tradition, started to get more and more dangerous and unethical with his experiments, trying to make the big discovery that would skyrocket him to the top of the science world. My family were always involved in law enforcement, and we had everything from judges, cops, and prosecutors in our ranks. My parents eventually cornered my uncle, and, spurred by the threat of being turned in by them, he gunned them down right in front of young me, setting me on a path of trauma and revenge right there. All I want is to finally corner that sick bastard and put him out of his misery once and for all! But... now, I'm seeing his men everywhere I look, which leads me to wonder... how close am I to getting to him, really?"

An armored van drives up to a group of Goh's scientists, and they immediately turn around and recognize it. "Oh, hey, look... it's the boss's nephew!"

"Right you are! So, then, tell me... where the fuck is he? And why the fuck do you assholes seem to be everywhere now?"

"Like we'd tell you a goddamn thing, you freaking psycho! All you wanna do is kill the boss!" The scientists stood their ground against the man's threat.

"Well, then, you leave me no choice! Eat lead, fuckfaces!" The man drew a semiautomatic rifle and opened fire on the group... though they came out of it unharmed, to the man's chagrin. "What the fuck?"

"Pfft! You thought that'd work this time? The boss controls everything now, and he ain't letting you have your way with a damn thing!" A scientist taunted.

"Guess I gotta bring out the heavy artillery..." The man next brought out a minigun and took aim- "And my name's Ken Yamashita, by the way. You can knock it off with that mystery man shit. I'm only the second, no, third most important man in the whole canon. Fourth, maybe depending on where Anzu stands." Ken then opened fire, but, again, the scientists came out unharmed. "Fuck!"

"Man, do all you ever think about is violence? No wonder the Yamashita tradition fell if psychos like you were allowed to become cops!" More taunting from the scientists.

"Your boss... is the REASON I became a psycho!" That's it. Ken had had it! He got back inside his van and revved it up, slamming the accelerator and attempting to run down the scientists! However... the only thing that was damaged was the van, and Ken just barely managed to crawl out of it before it exploded into an eruption of flames.

Ken: "Yeah... with all this shit going on, one has to wonder... how close am I to finally reaching that goal? Where is Goh, and, most important of all, what the fuck is he doing to make these guys so... invincible? Normally, I mow them like fucking lawns... time to get to the bottom of what the hell's going on here."

Goh presses a button and watches the whole thing unfold from the mun's control room. "So... my idiot nephew now has come into play. Between him and my enemy, I have no shortage of people after me... too bad for them, as I now cannot lose no matter what they try!"

[gonegrove]

Eddie always trying to find an excuse to get out of gym class until Billy shows up and suddenly he's never late.

Also Eddie is definitely the type of guy to love showing off his tattoos and knows Billy especially would be so into it.

100%

Eddie has gotten ditching PE down to a science by that point. He knows how much he can miss before he’s at risk of failing and what classes/tests/etc he cannot afford to miss and he’s both pro tier at excuses and not afraid to completely ditch.

But like when Billy’s there I mean…. Who wants to miss some more of that smoke show amirite?

Thing is it’s not like Eddie’s comically bad at sports/physical stuff. It’s not he’s got two left feet or anything, his aim is Fine it’s normal and untrained, he’s as fast as anyone else and he’s stronger than people anticipate from a lanky nerd (it’s from lugging amps and helping Wayne/neighbors with stuff for some quick cash. He’s still no billy tho) — he just doesn’t wanna do this shit.

Eddie is competitive as fuck tho and he’s not afraid of getting hit. You can’t tell me otherwise my mind cannot be changed on this. Eddie is competitive in only two contexts though— music and shit like games where it genuinely doesn’t fucking matter in the end who wins. Playing board games with him is a nightmare. Him and Nancy would be shouting at each other over Monopoly while Steve and Robin look at each other in terror (Billy’s not there because you couldn’t pay him to play Monopoly).

So naturally when he actually GOES to PE and they’re doing more than weights or laps but actually playing a game it really only like a handful of lame trash talk before Eddie is invested and ready to commit acts of violence so his side wins. Like imagining Steve and Eddie joining forces to take out Billy in a basketball game is fucking hilarious. Two natural foes joint forces to take out the foreign invader making them look like fucking tools. Magical.

The teacher never puts Eddie on skins teams because of his tattoos but that’s fine with him he doesn’t care either way and if it keeps the dude from having a heart attack good for him. It’s always just a bit weird tho in the locker room when Eddie actually shows up. Despite being about as menacing as a golden retriever and never acting otherwise Eddie has a reputation for being like, hardcore and tough and shit (the competitive streak probably helps). He gets stared at a lot. Especially the tats get stared at but whatever. Not his problem. His tats are sick as fuck and he just wants to shower and not be sweaty and gross anymore thanks.

Then he notices how Billy the hottie seems to stare a lot more than the other dudes. Like long after the novelty of Eddie now being in gym consistently has worn off. And yes he 100% noticed because he was ogling Billy. Sue him. So he starts testing the waters and trying to get a bead on what’s Billy’s deal.

Billy is horny for him and very into the tattoos which absolutely works for Eddie. He’s more than happy to show them off and reel in the hottest guy in school. Eddie talks about his plans for future tattoos and Billy’s out here trying to act So Normal about it. They talk about Billy getting a tattoo (which they are both So Normal about).

God where did all of this come from I blacked out and wrote too fucking much

[sortagaysortahigh]

ive seen some discourse on this and zoot can you do a character analysis of eddie? like the way you used to break down obx characters cos a lot of the headcannons i see of him are kind of mean, classist, and just seem so off character

Hi bby, ofc i can do a lil analysis on eddie however comma im gonna need some time as i’m about to go to the store, but i can give you some of my headcannons i use when i write eddie (and i aim to write him as in character as i can), some are sfw and some are nsfw

Random Eddie Munson Headcanons (ft Fem/Afab reader):

Total teddybear, tries to act tough but we all know he’s a big softie

Always gives you a discount bc you’re pretty, then you find out he’s only been giving you that specific discount-esp when your friend tries to buy from him

Total flirt, always flirting w the person he’s crushing on, and you just know he makes nerdy references when he does it too

bonus points when the person acc understands his references, he just swoons, definitely a heart eyes type mf

He smells like weed, menthol cigarettes, and a sprinkle of drugstore cologne

He definitely uses the 3 in 1 mens shampoos, and its green apple scented. + this mf probably uses irish spring bar soap

I doubt he uses chapstick frequently, then when he starts dating someone he’s constantly using it bc he loves making out

When in doubt he’ll use some of his partners lip gloss and if anyone asks him ab it he just says ‘can a man not kiss his lover?’

Eddie Munson is TOUCH STARVED and his love language is physical touch

He’s always holding his partner somehow, or caressing their skin, or just pulling them close bc hes one of the ‘i wanna be in your skin’ mfs

Also definitely play fights and wrestles w his partner, and i mean he will tackle you onto his bed for funsies

He’s hella goofy, like mans will always try to make people laugh whenever they look upset, definitely the type to shove fries in his nose when you’re not looking then wiggle his brows bc hes a big ass kid sometimes (but we love that ab him)

This man WILL wine and dine you even if it means rushing to make as many sales as possible within 2 days bc he wants your date to be special

He’s smart, like mega smart, you cannot DM a game of DND without being incredibly smart and creative

He’s good at math (once again DND relies heavily on numbers + being a drug dealer means you have to understand numbers) but bad w high school english, not bc he’s dumb but bc he gets bored easily and doesn’t care

He definitely got the silver pig ring from his dad, he probably wears it bc he associates it w the few good memories he has w him

He stole the handcuffs on his wall from Hopper, he and Hopper actually have a decent relationship bc jim knew his dad and we all know Jim has a soft spot for troubled teens

He tells Hopper that he’s “the only cop i wouldnt call a pig”

Anytime he gets arrested he asks for the sheriff specifically and 9/10 times jim lets him go w a shitty warning

Speaking of those handcuffs-he swears he’d never use them on someone and when asked why he definitely gets flustered then mumbles out ‘i dont have a key’

Buys handcuffs specifically for being freak nasty, even puts the key on a necklace that he gives to his partner (which they wear everyday bc its engraved w their initials in a little heart)

He definitely keeps a little cardboard box under his bed full of nasty magazines, some are like typical playboys and the others are heavy metal, then he has some straight up fantasy prnos that he doesn’t remember buying but still cherishes (hint he stole them)

The five finger discount is his best friend, this man isnt a klepto but he grew up poor and his familial influenced were all criminals until he started living w wayne so yk, he be stealin shit from time to time

Definitely steals lip gloss, hair ties, or other small ‘essentials’ for you and says he thought of you when he saw it

He grabs your hips anytime you bend over and humps you, ive seen other ppl say this one and its 110% accurate

Also an ass smacker/grabber-especially in shorts and skirts, but if its a skirt he slides his entire hand under it to grab your ass bc he will always be your lil pervy boyfriend

EDDIE MUNSON IS A BISEXUAL KING

Total perv, probably bc hes touch starved and just rlly into everything ab you. Looks up your skirt and down your shirt any chance he gets

I hate to say it i rlly do but i think he has a foot fetish, ive met my fair share of eddie munsons and they usually have foot fetishes

definitely asks you what color panties you have on while winking + panty thief + jerks off w your used panties

Hes 110% a switch, he likes being in charge but he loves it when you smack him around and pull his hair and deep down he likes begging for more

Ppl always go back and forth on fav sex positions but i just know in my soul he loves cowgirl, whether youre doing all the work or hes fucking into you, he just likes looking up at you bc “you look like a goddess”

He eats ass. I will not elaborate because i know im correct.

King of eating pussy in his van, anytime anywhere it gives “ill pull over rn” and hes deadass, he’ll even make you get on your hands and knees so he can eat it from the back when you two just finished arguing bc “i cant look at you rn” while he’s knuckle deep inside you w his tongue on your pussy

He’s a biter, and i mean sexually and just in general, he’ll leave bite marks on you during sex but even throughout the day he gets cuteness aggression and just be nibbling on you like a fuckin weirdo (we love him for that)

Flirts w your mom/dad to make them like you, usually he leans more towards your mom but will definitely slide a few compliments in to your dad

Puts a hand over your mouth so he can go down on you when he’s at yours and your parents are home or he gags you w your own panties (love our pervy king)

Only lets his partner touch his hair, he also cuts it himself every other saturday

Bonus for my poc readers: he oils your scalp!!!!!!! OR you start oiling his hair and he loves it when you do his hair, even makes an entire day out of it

Tries to get you to play DND, even designs little one shot campaigns for you to join in on and youre most likely playing w Dustin and Erica bc he said “they wont get frustrated with you”

When Dustin does get a lil frustrated when youre first learning Eddie lets Erica talk shit to him bc she has your back

OR If you already know how to play DND he swoons at your feet, definitely wants to beg you to join hellfire, practically makes it his mission and life purpose (esp if you arent dating yet)

He wants kids but he doesn’t know when, probably has doubts ab being a good dad bc “Munson men aren’t exactly angels” but w some reassurance and cuddling he feels better ab it

Definitely hates the idea of working a 9-5 for the rest of his life but would do it if he had a family and they needed him around.

All in all Eddie Munsons such a simp

[haitaini]

thoughts on gamer!hanma vivi??

*rubs hands* i cannot believe ive never thought abt this

minors dni

warnings: voyeurism, phone sex, nudes and exhibitionism(?) in a way madri its not detailed either

the most toxic gamer, probably got banned several times because he kept shitting on his teammates or the enemies in the chat like the fuckin dumbass he is instead of doing it on call

a top laner in league. thats automatically a red flag cause who the fuck enjoys being a top laner that shit is cancer. unfortunately mains riven 😒 he dont deserve her

rarely plays valo cause his aim is actually shit, but he’d play viper cause he thinks she’s hot (i dont blame him shes hot as fuck)

plays a lot of rpg games tho, probably resonates a Lot with ryuji from persona and thinks hes the shit (he is, my baby boy)

shits on switch gamers and calls them babies cause who tf plays on a switch and calls that gaming? then apex dropped on switch n he got one himself 😭

his entire room is purple, he has neon signs in his room and purple led lights around his setup, it’s his colour tbh i dont blame him

probably has a discord kitten (u) 😭 but he’d genuinely like you and after a while you’d drop the act and try to actually get to know him, play a lot of shit together

spoils the shit out of you actually, buys you whatever game and whatever skin you want cause he likes how you show it off all the time, telling your friends about them, makes his heart melt

at first he got annoyed when you wouldn’t be his support cause??? thats peak romance in his book but you jus wouldnt have it

this one time you told him you’d carry him and his entire team and he just started laughing at you like you’re insane, but that’s what you did and when you clutched the last kill his dick got hard

okay to the nsfw parts *giggles*

phone sex with him>>>> hes just so fuckin nasty and he’d say the filthiest shit to get you off and god you’d love that shit so much, has you putty in your seat as he tells you exactly what to do

expect random videos of him stroking his cock, moaning loudly unashamedly, groaning out your name and telling you how he’s been thinking of you all day and that you should come home already so he can fuck your sweet pussy

this one time you came over to his place and you just wouldnt stop acting up, sitting on his lap during his games and pressing kisses to his neck and he gets irritated cause you know he hates it, so he bent you over his desk and connected to a (busy) voice channel on discord, fucking into you as you let out moans into his mic letting all his friends hear you getting railed (i wanna write a drabble abt this)

also would fuck on camera live in a channel lol, hes ready to show everyone how pretty his baby girl looks all stretched out on his cock while his friends wrap a hand around their dick, pumping to the sight they will never ever get to experience for themselves

Sighs. Him. 😞 ill say this again tho, do NOT date a league player they’re cancer