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kithtaehyung · 3 months

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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.”

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

#AHHH it's finally here!#bts fic #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts fanfic #ryenwrites #*ryenfictalk #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x reader #3tan12 #*latest

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chaotic-iguana · 5 months

Note

hiiii!! i love your stories sm thank you for taking your time to write them<3 can you do one of a miguelxreader where he has been playing video games allllll dayy and the reader just wants a little attention so they "tempt him" if you know what i mean🤭 and he ends up getting just a littlee hissy about it. it can continue on however you like ;)

anywaysssss love you and i wish you all the best<3

-🪷

distracted.

gamer! miguel x f! reader

a/n: anon. first of all, thank you and second of all im sending u a sloppy forehead kiss bc this is such a delicious fucking idea i was literally feral to write this.

warnings: mdni. subspace, oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, cockwarming, degradation, (but they’re in love and it’s discussed, i promise), aftercare.

“mig-gy,“ you whine tearfully, a culmination of the frustration you’ve been feeling all day. it started when you woke up with a warm, sticky feeling in between your legs; a dull ache settling in your gut and tugging at the edges of your thoughts ever since. miguel’d already been out of bed, and you’d found him in the living room in front of the tv, sitting in his pyjamas with a controller in his hand, barking orders into a headset.

and while you didn’t want to disturb him on one of the very few days he had to himself, you couldn’t help but feel…antsy. you’d been trying (and failing) to get his attention all day, barely met with hms and grunts as it were. which was how you found yourself changing into a pink lace slip, unable to meet your own eye at the reflection before you. your poor, overworked brain made you think it would be a good idea to try and - ahem- tempt him, but when it came to actually doing it, the thought made your face warm. another slew of miguel’s curses at the game made you jolt, and before you knew it, you were walking outside to make sure he was okay.

and he was, because of course. you, on the other hand, were standing half-naked in the living room at three pm while your boyfriend neglected to even look your way. you stood to the side, wringing your hands and waiting for him to look at you, but after a whole minute with you getting no attention whatsoever, you gave up and cleared your throat. miguel’s eyes flicked your way - victory! - for a bare second until he rolled them and turned back to the screen. which was also how you ended up here, whining from over his shoulder for him to acknowledge you.

he doesn’t, of course, not until you’re stood next to him pouting while looking down at him with dazed doe eyes, giving you away. miguel knew exactly what you needed and within seconds a harsh order to pause was being whispered into his headset, fingers flying over the comedically-small-for-him controller as his chair finally turned your way. swallowing pitifully, you squirm under the weight of his gaze before risking a glance up at him to find his eyes twinkling with amusement, brow raised in question.

“need you, migs.” your whispered confession only raises his brow impossibly higher, ghost of a smirk curving his lips before he’s turning away from you again. you’re frowning, half-stomping to stand between him and his screen before he wears his stupid headset again. desire winning against the shame brewing in you, you reach a hand out to his chest-

and his wrist circles yours, stopping you in your tracks. you’re staring shamelessly at the slant of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the light caught in his hair, gauging his reaction until his voice rings out:

“prove it.”

and you’re confused, too lost in the reliving the feeling of the way his nose bumped against your swollen clit as he ate you out for hours last week, responding with a meek “hm?” that has him huffing. he doesn’t even clarify, just clamps a hand on your shoulder and pushes so you’re on your knees, settling you with your head at crotch-level.

“prove that you need me.”

and then he’s gone, eyes glued to the screen again. you blink up at him from the floor, content to watch the muscles of his forearms flex as his fingers move on the controller, the vein jumping in his neck as his jaw clenches, the tension in his wide shoulders. startling, you realise that his his eyes are back on yours and twinkling with a challenge. right. proving it.

shuffling between his legs, you lay your head on his thigh and peer up at him. he’s looking away now, of course. you’d be happy to drool at the sight of him semi-hard through his fitted light gray sweatpants (am i projecting? i am projecting) for hours, especially when the fabric stretches just right to give you a barely-visible outline you can’t help but trace with your fingertips. which is exactly what you do without realising until his breath hitches ever so slightly, a muscle jumping in his thigh. fueled by the vindication, you start tracing patterns on him through his trousers, palming him ever so slightly until he’s bucking his hips into your hand oh-so-slightly. you’re too enchanted by the way he twitches against your fingers to realise how teasing your touch has been until you hear a half-whimper escape his lips, sending a jolt directly between your legs. pressing your thighs together in a futile effort to relieve yourself, you trail your fingers to his waistband and tug it down, reveling in the sharp intake of breath sounding from above you.

the sight of his tip flushed red makes your mouth water and your tongue darts to catch the precum beading at his slit before you can stop yourself; the sudden warmth making him jump under you. rocking back on your heels, you fumble to pump him with both hands - he’s just so fucking big you can barely touch the tip of your thumb and forefinger with your palm around him - before ducking down to lap lightly at his balls, slick with sweat. kitten licking the underside of his cock while pumping him slowly, you hear him loose a breath slowly before you feel the weight of his hand on your head. faster than you can blink, his fingers curl into your scalp and tug your head back, gaze thunderous when his eyes find yours. his fingers tap your cheek in silent command and your lips part on instinct, and then he’s pushing your head down between your legs, jaw aching at the sudden intrusion. ignoring your choked garbling, miguel rocks his hips into your mouth until your nose is buried in his happy trail and holds you there, tears spilling over your cheeks while you struggle to adjust. the second you struggle against his grip instinctually, his tsk tsk fills the room, mic clicking off before he strokes your hair, so at odds with the fact that he was holding you down with his cock in your mouth.

“thought you needed me, honey? where’d my good girl go?” and oh fuck, it’s the tone he’s using as if he’s amused by the sight of you all ruined for him that has something cramping between your legs, breath wet and clicking in your throat as you whine around him, your fists trembling where they rested on his thighs. ‘m right here, i’m your good girl and i need you so, so badly so please please please-

but it’s like he heard your internal monologue, because his gaze softens in moments, thumb sweeping across your damp cheek.

“lo sé, lo sé. mi buena niña. tómalo por mí, amor.” [i know, i know. my good girl. take it for me, my love.] and all your queasiness dissolves the second his fingers scrape over your jaw, your discomfort dissipating at the sound of his gentle murmur.

then he’s going back to his game, leaving you kneeling at his feet and gagging around him. every choke, cough or splutter is met with a quick glance at you; at your fingers curled on either side of your head to make sure you’re okay, not tapping out. you know if your eyes had even a hint of hesitancy in them he’d stop; his supposed mean demeanor melting to give way to the cuddly teddy bear he really is. but you’ve reverted entirely to a floaty, dazed headspace, where your thoughts feel blissfully hazy and just out of reach, and you can’t comprehend the thought of not being here, keeping him warm.

you don’t realise how much time has passed until miguel shifts forward, and the pins-and-needles in your legs make you whimper, gripping his thighs for support. miguel immediately cups your jaw, reaching his other hand to rip off his headphones and turn the game off entirely before pulling you off of him, wiping the drool off your lips and supporting your head as you splutter, his patience infinite when it came to taking care of you.

“háblame, princesa. ¿cómo te sientes, hm?” [talk to me, princess. how are you feeling, hm?]

still on your knees, you shift forward with tearful eyes; breath hitching at the bruises you can feel have formed already. you're barely stammering through "h-hurts, miggy" in a hoarse whisper before he's leaning down, wrapping an arm under your thigh and around your head, lifting you into his lap instantly. you tuck your face into his neck, reveling in the safety of his embrace as you catch your breath. he presses his lips to your forehead, stroking your head over and over while cooing praises to you. it takes a while, but before long you're pulling back, kissing his chin with a soft grin.

"there she is. there's my good girl. so perfect for me, aren’t you?" your shy nod makes him smile, fangs poking through in that endearing way that makes your heart hurt and the warmth blooming in your belly burn.

“can i have u now, migs?”

and oh, you sound so wrecked for him, how could he ever say no?

and if his team lost the game, well. that’s on them, isn’t it?

masterlist.

hello my loves, as always, thanks for reading, comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis (hey pal), @party-hearses (hey gruv), @chiogarza, @jenispunk. message me to join my taglist. divider by the amazing @cafekitsune.

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vetteltea · 5 months

Text

Max Verstappen and Secret Santa [no warnings]

Day 2 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

“Is this my one?” Your voice carries through the small barrage of producers and videographers, a camera transfixed onto your face as you lift the package, attempting to figure out what content was inside of the box.

You were exhausted; despite wrapping up the championship a month ago, simply focusing on obtaining more and more points for Red Bull Racing’s reputation, the tracks had been tough and jet lag increasingly aggravating. Abu Dhabi was the end of the road, one step closer to falling back home into your own bed. However, you could not hide the elation which fell onto your face as the Formula One media team had pulled you aside, letting you know it was time to film the reveal.

You had been so excited to purchase your present this year; Yuki was always a fantastic pick, having selected him a set of chef knives and a hat, printed with a photo of himself and Pierre. Now, as the deep blue box was handed into your grasp, you couldn’t help but feel your heart race, gently shaking the box, determined to figure out the content.

“It sounds…heavy?” You try to give the best description possible to the woman standing behind the camera, urging you to unwrap the present in your hands. The temptation overrides, slipping your fingers through the silky bow and beginning to unwrap the formal packaging. “Whoever wrapped this…” you trail off. “Got it wrapped professionally. I don’t think any of us could wrap a present this good.”

The paper eventually falls away, the camera adjusting as you place down the box upon the table, lifting the lid. Immediately, your eyes furrow together, and then soften in confusion, grasping around the item which you had been gifted.

There, laid upon a pile of soft purple tissue paper, rested a Polaroid camera. It was small, coloured an off-white and was almost identical to the previous one you had owned.

“What did you get?” The woman behind the camera had prompted, urging to get the content required for the Secret Santa video. Your trance upon the item is snapped away, blinking rapidly and looking up the lens trained on your reaction.

“It’s a Polaroid camera and a bunch of film!” You lift the camera, showing it to the team, the smile on your face ever-present. “I bring a Polaroid to every race and take a photo but…someone broke it.” Your mind flickers back to your teammate, how he had insisted he could take a photo for Zandervoot; it was his home race after all. He had been nothing but apologetic, though that wouldn’t bring back your camera.

“Who do you think got it for you? It must be someone who knows you well?” The woman prompts you to continue whilst your fingers trace over the device, elated that somebody must have understood the importance and value held to the memories you capture.

“I mean…” you trail off. “A lot of us are close. It has to be someone who knows I do it…Daniel, maybe?” You think about the smiley Australian; how the two of you had bonded over your love of taking photos during global travels. The synchronized shake of the team signified you must have been wrong. It wasn’t Daniel. “Maybe Pierre?” He was almost always insistent on being in your photos, after all.

“Think closer to home.” You misunderstand the woman for a moment, thinking of your neighbor in the city of Monte Carlo.

“Valtteri?” Though, you’re almost certain he wouldn’t have got you this. You’re so certain it’s time to give up, lifting the camera out of its box, your attention being drawn immediately to the small Polaroid card being left underneath the device.

There was a photo, a photo of a man holding up a white piece of card, his scrawling hand-writing undeniably recognisable. In lettering, he had spelt out one word, ‘date?’

There’s two more underneath, one with the driver holding a thumbs up, the other a thumbs down. You can’t help the grin returning to your face as you look up from the box, seeing his figure sitting a mere meter away from you, eyes trained on you, a smile on his face at the realization you had finally clocked.

“Max.” You finally solve the problem, subtly slipping one of the Polaroids into your hand as the team take a few establishing shots, thanking you for being part of their marketing and turning their attention to your teammate, adamant on filming his segment next.

Before they can, you subtly slide past his table, tracing his knuckles and resting the Polaroid in his lap, moving away before he can realize what has happened. Instead, he focused on the photograph in his hand, seeing his own figure staring back with a thumbs up.

The last thing he sees is you turning the corner, still clad in Red Bull Uniform, a subtle wink thrown in his direction as you leave him to unwrap his own present, undeniably thinking of unwrapping something better later.

#Max Verstappen #MV1 #MV33 #Max Verstappen x Reader #Max Verstappen Imagine #Max Verstappen One Shot #Max Verstappen x You #Reader Insert #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Max Verstappen Blurb #Max Verstappen x Y/N

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bluelockmaniac · 3 months

Text

reaction to you wearing a bikini - reo & nagi (separate)

ft. reo, nagi cw: mentions of gunfire (video games), fem! reader

reo

in preparation for an upcoming pool party with your friends, you had asked your boyfriend to accompany you bikini shopping at the mall. of course, reo, being the filthy rich man he is, agreed to take you to the finest boutiques (he wants you to look better than your friends).

reo followed you across the mall, patiently waiting as you window shopped at each clothes store. after picking out a large selection of bikinis without a care in the world, you hurried to the fitting room.

when you first left the room, his eyes widened like never before; he was entranced by your beauty- captivated by the way the lace ties hugged the sides of your hips ever so tightly.

"woah," he'd finally manage to say, "you look gorgeous..."

you giggled at his compliment and an hour later, you finished trying on all of the bikinis and had thrown them into your shopping basket.

"so, reo, which one looked the best on me? which one should i ge-", before you could finish your sentence, he cuts you off while waving his card in front of you. "all of them. you're getting all of 'em."

you give him a soft frown before pinching his cheek gently. "baby, i don't need twenty-three bikinis, i just n-"

your efforts were futile as reo was already talking to the lady at the cashier.

nagi

for the past thirty minutes, you've been on a facetime call begging nagi to come over so he could compare, rate, and choose the perfect bikinis for you. after all, summer vacation was right around the corner, and you had to prepare the ideal beach wardrobe that would enhance your appearance. so why was nagi refusing to come over, arguing it would be a hassle, despite your persistent pleading? "nagi," you sighed, rubbing your temples in frustration, "can't you just come over? you could bring your nintendo switch too, ya know?" "...nah, 'tis too much of a hassle..." he mumbles softly while concentrating on the rather graphic game running on his computer, flashing lights bouncing off his face and loud gunfire sounds distracting him from focusing on you. then a thought hit you, one that he wouldn't, more accurately couldn't, resist.

so, here you were, posing for nagi and changing into one bikini after another, after drawing his focus away from his ridiculous game and insisting he needed to concentrate on you. upon first noticing your silence, he wasn't concerned and shrugged it off indifferently- that was until he heard your voice calling him from the other end of his phone. "ta-da~" you'd croon, quietly laughing at the look your boyfriend wore—his lips were slightly parted, a light pink blush dusting his pale cheeks. "holy shit," he'd finally gasp, not realizing he was holding in his breath from the breathtaking sight of your half-nude body on his screen, "change into the next one for me, baby." to say the least, you were pleased with yourself for having managed to redirect nagi's attention away from his beloved video games and onto you.

comments are very much appreciated, thank you!!!

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ctrlchar · 3 months

Note

HI POOKUMS!!

COULD I REQUEST A JAKE X F READER SMUT?😽

BASICALLY IM THINKING READER AND JAKE HAVE HAD A PRANK WARS GOING ON FOR A WHILE, THE READER THEN ENDS UP PRANKING HIM WITH VIAGRA PILLS (OR ANY OTHER PILLS THAT JUST MAKE YOU CRAZY HORNY)

IMAGINE JAKE HAVING TO LIKE GO FILM OR GO OUT WITH YOU AND SOME FRIENDS LIKE JOHNNIE OR SOMETHING AND PRETEND LIKE HES NOT ROCK HARD, MORE TURNED ON THAN EVER 🙏

IM REALLY NOT PICKY SO YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOUD LIKE HOW ITS GONNA CONTINUE, BUT THE ONLY THING ID PREFER YOU EXCLUDE IS BREEDING KINK IF THATS OKAY🙏

I HOPE YOURE DOING OKAY POOKUMS!!🥰 TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW!!

speed it down then slow it up

a/n:this might just be my favorite request yet tbh so sorry it took this long i’ve been busy lately but i’ll get back to posting regularly soon🙏

also title is from bubble pop electric ‼️

this prank war which jake had of course started had been going on for a eternity. at the moment,he had the upper hand therefore you just had to go all out.

the two of you had mentioned trying some aphrodisiacs a couple times but never fully went through with it. that was until today,when you, jake and johnnie had to record a video inside of a store.

you walked around recording the two boys occasionally passing the camera along to one of them as you waited for the viagra jake had taken to kick in.

you had worn a shirt that showed off a bit of your cleavage but not too much as well as your favorite bottoms

you had been talking to the camera while admiring the items around you until johnnie stopped recording, before practically scolding jake

“hey jake,i get that you may have a girlfriend but i’m trying to shoot a video here and i’d strongly appreciate it if you didn’t stare at her fucking tits the whole video” he says ending it with a sarcastic smile making you laugh

“hm?” he says looking up at you with a somewhat dazed look

you and johnnie let out a laugh at his reaction before eventually forgetting about it and going back to what you were doing

the video continued on as Jake tried his very best to conceal the large boner that has been forming in his pants over the past while, his hands glued to his pockets

he wondered as to why he could barely control himself but that thought went out the window as soon as you had dropped something and bent over to pick it up

he almost let out a small groan at the sight before he concealed it,remembering where he is

johnnie,who was busy looking at some item in the store was oblivious to jake who was practically looking down at you your ass with puppy dog eyes as you stood up

your eyes meet jake’s before they then notice the large print in his pants which you could’ve sworn looked at you first

“please baby don’t leave me like this” he whines in reference to his very prominent boner which you feel as he wraps his arms around your waist,checking to make sure no one else was in the isle

you weigh your options,because if you do help him then you’ll obviously loose the prank war because of your own prank but at the same time you and him wanted it just as bad,he just couldn’t hide it

“come on,you know you wanna help me” he whispers in your ear while he leaves a few small kisses along your neck,with his hard cock pressing right against your ass

this prompts you to quickly go and tell johnnie you and jake were “going to look at something” in the store before darting off to find the nearest bathroom.

as you walked away from johnnie you had a slight skip in your step while you and jake quickly entered the bathroom in hopes no one would see you.

jake instantly forced his hands up your tight fitting shirt groping at your tits before attacking your neck with wet,and sloppy kisses.

“jakey-baby you know I love it when you kiss me there but we don’t have a lot of time” you say in between breaths as he kissed your neck before halting his actions

he agrees but not without a groan and a plea on his end.

and before you know it your pressed against the cold wall with jake sliding the head of his cock inside of you.

with a sharp inhale jake was now fully inside of you,his hands holding onto you tightly as he says a quiet “you feel so good ‘round me” before beginning his assault on your cunt

you slapped a hand over his mouth knowing how loud he gets and as you expected his moans get louder while his strong arms hoisted you and held you against the bathroom stall. and just by how franticly he was thrusting into you, you could tell just how badly he needed you

you rested your head in the crook of his neck whimpering like crazy whenever he would thrust right against your cervix

“fuck- i’m gonna-” he groaned,his fingernails digging into your thighs as he came deep inside you. his hips continuing faster then they had before while his mouth connected with yours to muffle his moans

with his thrusts not faltering,his deep groans and grunts turned more into whimpers and moans when he continued to fuck his cum out of you as the two of you tried your best to stay quiet.

“don’t know how you expect me to stay quiet” he whines with a thrust. “not when she’s squeezing me this good-fuck” he moans out feeling close once again

you then pull him into a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around him, one of your hands creeping up and gripping his hair. the two of you moaned into the kiss,jakes pace slowing down,the tip of his cock still brushing right against your cervix

you pulled back,with your hands still placed around him “jakey i’m gonna cum” you’d whine out. this then makes jake thrust even harder then before trying to get you to reach the peak he gets you too so well

you bite your lip, and surprisingly don’t draw blood, while you and Jake try your best to keep quiet. once again,you pull him into a kiss to stifle his and your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm.

after a few moments,he pulls out and the two of you put your clothes back on before jake stops.

“uhm babe,i know we just fucked but i’m still uh-“ he stutters too embarrassed to tell you. cocking a brow you question him to which you shortly get an answer when you look down and noticed the tent that was still pitched in his pants

#jake webber #jake webber smut #johnnie guilbert headcannons #johnnie guilbert smut #jake webber headcannons #smut #jake webber imagine #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #jake webber drabble #johnnie guilbert drabble #johnnie guilber imagine #johnnie guilbert imagine

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bomber-grl · 4 months

Text

“Wanna get married?”

Damian Wayne x Gn!Reader

(They’re about 19)

“WHAT??”

“What…? Why’re you so freaked out?” You and Damian were currently sitting across each other in the living room.

“What do you mean, why am I so freaked out?…explain yourself” his sudden mood changes never ceases to amaze you- something you seriously shouldn’t be thinking while being suspected of by an ex assassin .

“Well… Since we’re tired and bored, I asked if you’d wanna get married-“

“Yea, I understood the first time but why and…in what sense?” He interrupted you, rude

“Ok ok look, just hear me out” he glared at you but then sighed and just nodded.

“Alright” you sat up “so imagine this,me, you, fancy high end restaurant- AND before you say anything!” You shove a finger against Damian’s lips.

“Imagine the food, we can, idk… go in together and I could fake purpose to you for fun” you sat back and studied Damian’s facial expressions .

He let out the deepest sigh you’ve ever heard in your life that you’ve heard from him. Which is to say a lot since sighs from Damian aren’t exactly uncommon.

He leaned back and started thinking “where would you even get a ring-“

“I’ve thought of that” is how you responded and quickly pulled out the best looking ring you have.

“Okayyyy, I don’t know why you have that but, ugh, fine.” He said finally admitting defeat. He got to his feet and held out a hand for you to grab.

Show time.

The two of you decided to head out the the fanciest, high class restaurant damian knows and once the two of you got dressed you had Alfred drive you there.

You’d be lying if you said you and Damian didn’t look absolutely stunning, I mean anyone would be jealous if they saw the two of you, not knowing whether they’d want to be with you or you.

Once you finally stepped out you stayed behind and watched as Damian managed to get a seat despite not having a reservation, maybe all he said was that he was Bruce Wayne’s son.

Well anyway, a waiter led you there and had you two seated in a very public place, nice.

Although it was good for your plan it wasn’t exactly ideal, especially since Damian really hates being the center of attention.

Anyway the both of you ended up eating away without a care of the cost (mostly you) and when you saw it fit you got up, cleared your throat and began your plan.

“Damian Wayne, you and I had been friends for a long time now and we’ve been dating for a good while aswell. I’m aware we are young but our young age doesn’t make my love for you invalid. So I ask this with upmost sincerity-“ you go to kneel and continue your cringe ass over the top speech.

“I wish for you and I to be lovers and even more in the near future so-“ you pull into your pocket and get the ring and open the box “will you make me the happiest person alive and marry me?”

Collective gasps could be heard around the restaurant and even some people pulled out their phones to record- I mean imagine Damian Wayne and y/n l/n getting married of all people???

An event of the century

Well Damian’s shocked face was worth it and although unexpected, his blush certainly wasn’t unwelcomed.

Nice! He was s totally selling it

Anyway he got up abruptly and nodded his head, that wasn’t enough for you though. “What?-“

“YES ILL MARRY YOU” he hastily let you slip the ring on his finger and he called over the waiter to bring your check.

Someone had to have called paparazzi because when you stepped out of the establishment there was flashing lights all around you while you two hurriedly got into the vehicle driven by Alfred.

The very next day you were forced to go to the Wayne manor because of how much Damian kept pestering you.

Once you managed to sneak past the news reporters you entered the living room and the whole family was there, everyone had mixed reactions but most of them Thought it was hilarious.

But in all seriousness Bruce said that you’ll have to give an official statement saying it was all a stunt while a video of the news played on the tv talking about you and Damian’s new engagement.

The next few days were full of people spreading “Damian x y/n” all over previous haters and people were also mentioning how absurd it was due to your young age.

“Damian’s and y/ns engagement “ was trending all over twitter and any social media platform and although it was fun while it lasted an official statement had to be published eventually. 😔

It was fun calling Damian your “fiancé” when in interviews, but everything must come to an end 😔

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jaspvids · 1 month

Text

The Diagnosis Of David

Disclaimer: I am by no means a mental health professional. This is just a meta-analysis.

What do we think of when we think of David?

His values of kindness. Optimism. Hope. Conviction. Passion. His drive to do his best every single day. The way he always makes an effort to reach out to others.

But also:

Attachment issues. People pleaser. Rose-colored glasses wearer. And at times, though the fandom doesn’t want to acknowledge it — Selfish. Unstable. Rude. Hypocritical. Kind of a dick.

See this video I made;

He’s complex, so let’s try to unpack him, and figure out what he’s got going on under that floof.

On David’s Childhood

David has been through a number of traumatic events in his childhood, most notably:

Witnessing Jasper fall to his near-death.

Finding Jasper, and being almost mauled by bears during the escape.

Clown school was apparently very bad, given the flashback-like reaction he had when it was mentioned. I’m unsure of his age when this occurred, however.

The fight with Jasper at the cave before they parted ways.

Losing Jasper. He says Cameron told him he was picked up by his parents, but I’m not convinced it’s not just his mind trying to erase painful memories.

As far as what we don’t necessarily see in the show, but can infer, David’s father was either not present or not great. He dreamt Cameron was his real father, as seen below.

And we all know Cameron is an awful father figure to begin with.

Yet, that’s better to David, apparently, than whatever he had at home. Which implies it was likely a pretty bad situation.

This can also be backed up by his attachment to the camp — growing up (and even now) it seems to be more of a home to him than his actual home.

That’s a home that hasn’t ever been mentioned, by the way. Contrary to Gwen, we know absolutely nothing about his family. He hasn’t talked about them once, if I recall correctly.

David is often open with emotions, if not wearing his heart on his sleeve. So why would he never mention his family and home?

We know why.

Even as an adult, he has retained this attachment to Cameron (who has in turn, continued to use this attachment to his benefit). He gets very excited about helping Cameron change in “keep the change” — because he needs to believe people who hurt him can get better. Otherwise, it’s too painful to bear.

The Loss Of Jasper

Part of his childhood, but significant enough to warrant its own section.

Jasper and David had a very interesting relationship. We’ve seen in the past that David was pessimistic, foulmouthed, and hot-tempered, directly compared to an optimistic, peppy, popular Jasper.

But then Jasper saw Cameron’s real self, and David received a modicum of praise for what was likely the first time based on his reaction. And so, they basically did somewhat of a switcheroo.

(David takes on many traits of Jasper after this experience, showing that he does admire him at the end of the day. I believe these traits are the foundation of David’s many masks.)

Despite the whole shebang, further episodes show us that they form a strong bond (or maintain one, we don’t know what happened before the first Jasper and David episode.)

What makes this friendship especially crucial in David’s development is that I believe Jasper was the first person to truly stand up for David.

David is, as we have seen, easily manipulated. Jasper picks up on this, and knowing Cameron’s just trying to use his best friend, tries to take Cameron down.

Jasper essentially died trying to protect David.

If Jasper hadn’t died, I don’t think David would have ended up as gullible and dependent as he is. If he had the more rational and realistic Jasper by his side during the rest of his developmental years, I believe things would have ended up much, much differently.

With Jasper’s death, there seems to be nobody else at camp who knows of Cameron’s crimes, or possibly, doesn’t want to speak out about them. Nobody to stand up for him. Nobody to redirect him.

So there’s nobody to stop the unhealthy-attachment-train from picking up speed.

Cameron And David’s Relationship

Cameron is manipulative and abusive towards David. This even becomes physical:

Despite this, David continues to idolize him as is seen in many cases of abuse. He works his ass off maintaining Cameron’s camp. Cameron’s approval makes or breaks him, because this is the man he sees as a father, unfortunately.

In addition, David is unable to let go of the hope that Cameron can change, because he’s convinced himself that deep down Cameron is still “good”, based on his skewed perception of him. And we all know how that ended.

But as Diane from Bojack Horseman once said —

And that is David’s problem — he wants so much for there to be a “deep down”, that there will be a day where Cameron showers him with praise and throws signed adoption forms at him, etcetera.

He judges Cameron not on who he actually is, but who he wants him to be. And so, the unhealthy attachment remains.

(Which is, of course, incredibly destructive to his mental health.)

Other Things We Know About His Mental Health, From Canon

We know he takes meds.

We know he has (sometimes dissociative) panic attacks.

We know he has been seen to suddenly snap, even to the point of violence.

My Final Conclusion: C-PTSD

(As the trauma has been not just one event, but many over the course of his life, and among other reasons, I believe CPTSD fits better than PTSD.)

David meets much of the criteria, most notably:

Lack of emotional regulation

Dissociation

Flashbacks

Anxiety

Guilt and shame

Distorted perception of abuser

Relationship difficulties

Okay this was long I’m tired good night.

#camp camp #camp camp david #cc david

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julieloves074 · 4 months

Text

I'm yours (Alex Walter x Reader)

Summary: When Jackie comes to town your best friend, and childhood crush, Alex Walter falls head over heels leaving you left behind but when you attend Will's wedding with someone something changes...

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, heartbreak

Words: 6.1k

(Not my GIF :))

The day Jackie arrived in town was an interesting one to say the least. The Walter house was a second home to me all my life, growing up at the ranch next door meant I grew up chasing around the fields with the Walter kids.

It was during dinner at theirs, Walter games night, that Katherine announced her dearest friend had passed away in a car accident and her daughter was going to move in with them. The reactions around the table were mixed, but mostly everyone was just shocked. Over the next months there were whispers and chatter, but I was not prepared for what it would be like when she arrived.

“Morning,” Katherine says when I walked through the front door, her and George were putting on their shoes and jackets.

“Off to get Jackie?” I asked already knowing the answer, I was curious about her, it would be nice to have another girl around.

“Yeah, are you staying around for dinner tonight? It’ll be nice for Jackie to have another girl around today I reckon,” Katherine asked, quite literally reading my mind.

“That would be nice thank you,” I answered, and George let out a laugh opening the door, Katherine gave him an inquisitive look, one brow raised.

“I thought we were past asking each other stuff like that Y/n practically lives here,” Katherine and I looked at each other and burst into a giggle, he wasn’t wrong.

“Alright well we better be off, Alex is in the living room with Issac playing some kind of video game,” Katherine announced grabbing her coat and leaning over to kiss the top of my head.

I muttered back a thanks and headed deeper in the Walter house and to no surprise I found my best friend exactly where Katherine said.

“Y/n hey!” Alex examined practically jumping out of his seat

“Dude! Dude the game- we’ve nearly-” Issac stood with the remote but quickly slumped back down into his seat as the television made a noise to signify the end of the game, “What the hell Alex, that was the closest we’ve ever gotten!” he continued to complain.

“Y/n’s here,” Alex simply pointed out, that Goofy smile on his face, all his teeth showing in his grin.

“Yeah, yeah Y/n’s here,” Issac mocked rolling his eyes at his cousin but giving me a smile and a fist bump as he walked past.

Soon enough Alex and I found ourselves laying around on the sofa with snacks and a random film on. I suggested we head outside, I wanted to work on my tan but he said him and Cole argued again and he was out there with some of the other Walter siblings. I tried not to roll my eyes, I know these boys love and care for each other so why make it so difficult.

“Your parents out of town again?” he sat up to look at me, I reluctantly tuned my head away from the tv and put down the popcorn bowl on the coffee table.

“Uh yeah, they’ve got another showcase a couple towns over, won’t be longer than three days,” I answered, mom and dad were well known by their refined tastes, before I was born they started being judges in all kinds of food showcases all around the country, it all slowed down after I was born but they were still offered lots of positions and sometimes they just couldn’t say no.

“You’re more than welcome to crash here,” Alex said, some of his smile seemed to crumble a little. It’s not that my parents weren’t good parents we just weren’t as close as the Walters and that was that. Plus, I have school, even if I wanted to travel with them when they did it wasn’t always possible.

“Hey, I need to look after Daisy,” I said with a smile, my golden retriever could not sleep unless she’s in one of our beds, “Plus everyone else is still there,” I said confidently kicking his leg to brighten his mood. Mom and dad offer a program where you can come live on the ranch and help with the work for a small wage and all accommodation provided, people who want to travel jump at the opportunity all the time, we have a waitlist, it’s nice being able to meet people from all around the world.

“You know I’m always here for you right?” He asked all serious, hand reaching out to touch mine, I gave him a smile and his hand a squeeze and pulled him into a hug. It felt different somehow these last couple of weeks. I’ve liked Alex, like liked Alex for as long as I could remember and recently it started feeling like maybe he liked me too.

“I know, I’m here for you too,” I whisper back.

“We’re back!” George’s voice announced to the house, Alex stayed sitting on the sofa, but I walked up to the doorway.

“Jackie this is Y/n, Y/n Jackie,” Katherine said with a bright smile. I gave the girl a smile, she looked exactly as I expected she would, beautifully luscious hair and clothes with a scarily perfect posture.

“Hi,” I said reaching out my hand,” I live next door but half the time I swear I spend more time here,” I laugh, and a smile appears on her face, and she shakes my hand.

“Oh, and this is Alex,” Katherine says as we walk past the living room, my eyes go to him like muscle memory, but his don’t even glance my way, he’s looking at her. I feel something then near my heart, a new kind of pain, but I put on a brave smile.

“Theres still two bags in the car would you mind getting them?” George asked Alex who shook himself slightly out of his trance. He stood quickly and headed towards the front door.

Unsure what to do with myself, this was a new feeling, I followed Katherine and Jackie to the kitchen, she poured us some lemonade when her phone started to ring, and she excused herself. From what I gathered she was being called for a job, Katherine was incredibly hard working and did not get half the recognition she deserved.

She apologised and said she was needed for an animal emergency. The job of showing Jackie around was passed onto me and Will who had just walked through the door and introduced himself.

We headed outside and finally I was blessed with the rays of sunshine dancing on my skin, the weather was truly magnificent. Will continued pointing everyone out to Jackie and I looked at each of the Walters outside in turn, I really was lucky to be surrounded by these people, and Jackie would soon know that she ended up with the most loving people in the world.

“Who’s that?” she whispered to me when a certain blonde, very dramatically, flipped back his hair and climbed out of the pool. I shook my head turning to see her practically gaping at him and let out a giggle.

“That’s Cole, the big flirt of the town,” I explained, her eyes never left him.

“Do you want to introduce yourself?” Will asked, he was too busy answering Parker’s question to hear Jackie and I.

Cole sat back on one of the lounge chairs brushing his hair back with one hand, the other already resting under his head. He opened his eyes ever so slightly to look in our direction, “She’ll figure it out,” he said in that teasing Cole voice.

“Told ya,” I continued, and Jackie laughed, I looped my arm through hers, ‘I’ll show you to your room then,”

“And Cole and I will start brining up your belongings right?” Will commanded more than questioned, Cole let out a groan but got up.

After a few minutes Alex had bought up Jackie’s other two bags and started helping Cole bring up her boxes of stuff which there seemed to be a lot of. I sat there with Jackie helping her unpack her suitcases and giving her some insight into town and the school. I had to watch both the Walter brothers try to make her laugh and shine their beautiful eyes at her each time they interchangeably came up.

“So, are you related to the Walters or?” She asked when Alex left after dropping off another box, I couldn’t help but let out an audible laugh.

“Oh no, no, I’ve grown up next door so basically know them since we were all in diapers, but no not related” I explained and she nodded, placing some stationary precisely on her desk, “So if you ever needany blackmail let me know,” I whispered and we laughed together. Katherine was right, I hope I was making this easier for her.

Katherine arrived back in time for dinner, George prepared a barbeque, Alex and I set up some tables outside and bought paper plates. It almost seemed like any other dinner apart from the fact that Alex spent almost all of it staring or talking to Jackie. He wasn’t the only one though. Cole. This was my new reality I realised and start bracing myself mentally.

Even with the family’s insistence I left right after dinner with the excuse that I had some last minute homework I needed to finish for tomorrow’s English class. It had been a long day, and I just needed some space to process and breathe.

I was almost to the gate when Alex ran up to me, “Hey you alright?” he asked walking alongside me, I nodded and told him that I still needed to finish reading that one short story, which was true, and before he could tell me to just read his copy hear I asked him a question.

“What do you think of Jackie?”

“She’s, uh, she seems really nice,” he almost seemed a little flushed, “I’m excited to get to know here, I think she’ll like it here,” he said, “What about you? You guys seemed to get cozy gossiping away”

“She seems lovely, this obviously isn’t easy for her, it’ll be nice to have a girl my age around the ranch,” I said honestly, things were going to be different now, so I just had to learn to roll with it and make the best of it, even though I see exactly how this is going to play out, I need to gossip with Danny about it, see if he agrees.

***

It’s been just over two weeks since Jackie has arrived at the ranch, and so far things have been pretty normal, if not better. We hung out every day, I showed her around school, we avoided Erin together and I introduced her to Tara and Skylar, but her and I got close quickly.

I had to finish my group project with my science class mates and it was the worst experience of my life, they were all absolutely useless, as much as we aren’t really fond of each other I’d hope they’d be able to put those feelings aside just to finish this project but no, they like to make things difficult. Now I wanted nothing more than to flop on Alex’s bed with some ice-cream and complain about it for half hour whilst he tried and is mostly successful in making me laugh.

My plan was not going to go quite as I wanted though, I walk through the farm’s beautiful, wooden gates only to hear Alex and Jackie talking. At first I reminded myself to not think anything of it, they too were starting to become good friends, which was good- so why did it hurt hearing her laugh that enchanting, contagious laugh from inside the barn that contained the loft. Kid’s heaven as we liked to call it. Alex and I called it our getaway when we needed to talk about something serious, it was also a non-judgement zone.

I approached the barn cautiously in hopes of not being spotted, this wasn’t spying it was- information gathering to make the best possible choices going forward. Who am I kidding this was stupid, I needed to walk away or make myself obvious. Running a hand through my hair I turned to walk towards the house, maybe Katherine was around.

“Spying are we y/n/n?” Cole asked, causing me to jump slightly, one of my hands landing on my chest.

“Jesus Cole I’d like to live to my thirties- at least,” I let out wacking him on the arm, he let out a laugh, one too similar yet so different from Alex’s, yet his knowing glance didn’t change, “No I was not spying I just didn’t want to interrupt,” I said defensively brushing past him.

“Whatever you say…” he started, managing to get perfectly in step with me, “Suppose I don’t need to tell you then,” he continued to tease. I kept my sight ahead of me, lips pursing together, running my tongue over my front teeth, I would not give him the satisfaction.

Cole found out about my little thing for Alex from Erin, her and I used to be best friends before she became ‘popular’ she used the information to get Cole’s attention in the first place, but this didn’t mean I needed to give Cole the power now.

We kept walking towards the house in silence, it was eating away at me and my lack of patience. I let out a huff as we got onto the porch, “What were you going to tell me?” I asked reluctantly.

“Oh how I could bully you right now,” he clasped his hands together mischievously and I turned away from him to go into the house, “Okay, okay,” he said grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me back towards him, we both leaned over the railing.

“He likes her doesn’t he?” I asked even though I already knew the answer, I could see Cole nodding his head in the corner of my eye. Damn how quickly Alex Walter fell.

I turned to face him; he kept looking out at the fields.

“You like her too,” I said in a whisper, it was a realisation I hadn’t meant to voice out loud. He sucked in a deep breath.

“I mean I don’t really know her, she just moved her but-”

“You feel like you’ve known each other forever? There’s just something fascinating about her that you can’t let that little flame of hope give out?” I asked, completely monotone, I related too much to what I was saying.

“Wow we’re saddos,” he laughed nudging me to the side.

“Yeah we really are,” I said, leaning against the railing again.

“But you don’t want to hurt him do you? We don’t need a repeat of the Paige situation,” he tensed up at my words, even though Alex is my best friend all of the Walter kids are my friends and they’re all family. I know Cole didn’t know about Paige and everything was blown out of proportion. But the fact that it was all a miscommunication but we were still suffering the consequences now and we did not need another destructive wave.

“Come on lets crash their little moment,” he said changing the subject, refusing to talk about it, the normal playfulness of his voice gone. I sighed and nodded, we headed towards the barn in perfect time to see Alex brushing Jackie’s hair out her face.

“Uh-um” Cole’s voice beamed into the mostly empty building, both of them turned to us and stepped apart.

“Oh y/n I have to show you this new board game Jackie and I bought in an antique shop the other day,” he came towards me, turning around to smile at Jackie once more, “Don’t forget the book, it’ll be nice to talk to someone who actually likes the Hobbit,” he said playfully turning to me, “Unlike some who don’t appreciate the art,” he continued.

That comment should not have hurt as much as it did, it was a light-hearted joke but it felt like it was leaving a gap in my heart causing my heart rate to increase.

“I’ll see you in a bit Jackie,” I said with as much of a smile as I could muster, she nodded back, clearly not wanting to be left alone with Cole after the whole bleach situation, and the good friend part of my didn’t want to leave her stranded, but Cole is a good guy- for the most part- and he deserves a chance to apologise for his sometimes stupid behaviour.

Alex started to describe the game excitedly as we headed towards the house, we were walking up the stairs when a voice called from behind us.

“Hey, Alex, Y/n hold up! I’ll come play with you!” Jackie shouted jogging to come meet us, and that’s how I ended up playing a board game with the two of them subtly flirting for two hours before finally having a chance to excuse myself.

***

Mom and dad have never gone away over a holiday before, but this thanksgiving I was left all alone in our house. Or more accurately I was being left with the Walters. This was a different kind of travel though. My grandmother from my dad’s side was getting continuously worse but they didn’t want to interrupt my holidays and wanted to keep me in a routine, so they asked me to stay and took Daisy with them.

I had slept at the Walter house last night, Jackie and I fell asleep on the sofa watching Lemonade Mouth, I knew Jackie was dreading today and did not want to cook so I promised I’d cover for her and cook a plate in her honour instead while she went on her food delivery rounds. Little did she know her uncle Richard was coming to the dinner.

I wasn’t supposed to know either but I had accidently walked in when Katherine was on the phone to him and she did a little excited dance move when I assumed he agreed. I think this will be good for her, seeing a familiar face. Getting her to come back to the house for dinner without revealing the surprise was going to be harder.

I thanked Katherine for grabbing the supplies for some bacon-topped green bean casserole, mom’s favourite recipe and stepped into my chef era in the kitchen. My side dish can be eaten cold or heated up so I decided to cook before everyone else piled into the kitchen.

Singing along to one of my playlists I moved around the kitchen like it was my dance floor, I’m not a fantastic cook, but I’m not the worst so I just tried to make it fun whilst stimulating my short attention span.

I heard footsteps and a voice, not a great one, joining in. I smiled and looked up from the cutting board to see Alex dancing awkwardly around the kitchen island.

“Oh I love this song,” he enthused coming towards me, I tried to move away and resist, but he took the knife out of my hand cautiously and pulled me closer, both his hands in mine and we rushed around the kitchen singing our favourite song. I should have known the second this tune came on it would act as a whistle to the Walter boy.

He twirled me around five or six times causing me to get a little dizzy, we giggled like five year olds without a care in the world. Unfortunately, as the song came to end so did our moment. We stood there for a couple moments trying to catch our breaths. I couldn’t help but gleam.

One look at Alex’s red, out of breath face and I burst into laughter again.

“Stop it! Come on stop it I need to breath,” he managed to get out between attempted breaths and laughter.

“Well, I didn’t know you were such a confident dancer Walter,” I said winking at him. He smacked my arm walking around to put some bacon in his mouth, “Leave it alone or we’ll have none for later,” I chided playfully.

“More of a confident dancer than a confident cook,” he said and I couldn’t agree with him more, “Thankfully mom has let me get away with just making the mash this year,” and we all thanked her for it.

“Do you remember that time you were trying to cook some chicken and somehow managed to get it spilt half over the floor and the rest drowning under the undercooked cheese sauce and almost gave both of us food poisoning?” I asked chucking a green bean into my mouth. He covered his eyes with his hands and sighed at the memory.

“How many times can I apologise for that? Also come on I was like twelve, how much can a twelve year old boy know about cooking?!” He asked running a hand down his face.

“Well, I’d assume more than that, your mom and dad are incredible cooks,” I said, then got interrupted when the phone on the counter started playing a happy tune, it wasn’t mine.

Alex picked up his phone to look at the caller before turning back to me, “Give me a sec just gotta answer this,” he said before sitting down and speaking into the phone. I run my hand over my nose and returned back to my station and cutting up the bacon into smaller slices, every now and then looking up to Alex, watching the smile that takes over his whole face, trying to guess who was on the other side of the phone even though deep down I think I already knew.

“Yes Jackie I’ll make sure to remind you about that later, okay bye,” he said followed by a laughter. My suspicions were confirmed and all of a sudden there was nothing more interesting in the room other than my cutting board, I was nearly done then I could get out of here for a couple of hours. If Jackie could so could I, especially considering I didn’t actually live here.

“I’m going to talk to her today, I’m going to tell her how I feel,” Alex announced bravely.

My hands stopped in motion, and I looked up at him, not quite sure I heard him right, “ You’re going to do what? Do you really think that’s the right thing to do? I mean especially now at thanksgiving when she’s missing her family and-” I started but cut myself off before I could ruin Jackie’s surprise for anyone else.

“Things have been going really well y/n, I thought you’d be happier for me if I’m honest,” a bit of his smile faded and I looked back down at my cutting board, throwing the rest of the bacon into my casserole.

“I just meant you guys live together, let’s say things go south, what happens then?”

“Why do you always have to be so negative about this, every time I talk to you about Jackie you get like this,” he was hurt, I could tell by the slightly change in his tone.

“I’m being realistic, you’ve got to think about the rest of the family as well,” I defended myself turning around to wash up everything I used I wanted to add you’ve got to think about me, how after all this time, when we too acted like that can you didn’t see me too.

He huffed and then just as his steps came closer they got further way, and with each beat my heart sunk further and further.

I spent the dinner watching him watch her, watching Cole watch her, and the whole debacle with her uncle go down and Erin sat two seats down from me- what was happening? How quickly do things go so out of control. He wouldn’t even spare me a glance, all of a sudden I felt invisible at the Walter table, which now I suppose that could happen effortlessly with purely the number of us.

We all sat in the living room later that evening, after Jackie decided she was going to stay, playing card games and laughing along to some general knowledge game show where people were barely ever right because the questions were so bizarre. Jackie left after a little while claiming she just needed some time to process this whole day.

What hurt was the way Alex followed her up a few minutes later like a lost puppy. I knew where he was going, what he was going to do and say, it was making me feel physically sick. Like someone was squashing both my stomach and my heart at the same time. I went to get some water. I took a few deep breaths while standing at the sink, but I still felt like I couldn’t breathe so I went out towards the barn. I sat on the fence and looked out onto the ranch, not allowing myself to look back at the house.

That wasn’t the worst of it though. I thought it couldn’t get worse, more painful, but never say never. Jackie called me up to her room later, I’m staying the night at the Walter’s for two more nights until my parents got back. Hearing her explain what happened in detail was much, much worse than sitting on the fence outside and imagining how it played out.

She sounded so excited talking about how they kissed and how he gave her this whole cute proclamation, she didn’t realise that every word, every description she gave me pushed a knife a little deeper into my heart. He took her to our spot where when the sun starts going down it shimmers perfectly between two tall trees. I nodded along and tried my best to feign excitement, but I couldn’t tell how good of a job I was doing, she was too caught up in her giddiness to notice if I was doing a shit job.

I knew it could be worse though I told myself, this whole explanation could be coming out of Alex’s mouth, and if it did I think I would actually, physically be sick. I couldn’t see him right now or talk to him. I needed to not be at the Walter house for a couple of days so I could avoid the incoming PDA.

I told Katherine one of the volunteers ended up coming back early after the holiday and that I offered to go spend the evening with them, so they weren’t alone, she wasn’t too thrilled about the idea but she let me go, I think she sensed my urgency but didn’t want to press. I think she probably knew more about what was at play here than we realised.

***

Over the next couple of weeks, the sight of Jackie and Alex became imprinted in my mind. I didn’t avoid either of them, but I didn’t go out my way to spend time with them either, mostly because they were always together and always touching, but it’s not like they showed much of an effort to reach out to me either. I knew of course that they were in the honeymoon stage, but I also knew the best way to stop breaking my heart was to limit contact.

When I realised that this thing was going to be a thing for a while I started reaching out to my other peers more, hanging out with new people in the time I used to spend with the Walter’s and Jackie. Turns out one guy from my science group was actually quite nice, and he wasn’t bad looking. No matter what he was not Alex but I could see myself being happy with Seb. We talked, called, and hung out more and more until we officially started dating, he agreed to attend the oldest Walter brother’s wedding with me which was kind of him since he didn’t really know any of them very well. I think that was why I was drawn to him; he was outside this bubble and I desperately wanted to get out too.

“Aren’t you excited? You love the Walters,” Seb asked as we walked through the big wooden gate. My arm was looped through his. I took a deep breath and smiled, it was genuine, I was excited that Will and Hayley were finally doing what was going to make them happy and that we all got to be here to celebrate with them, in the place that we all love. Mom and dad already joined the Walter’s earlier to help set up.

We were met with the twins by the entrance to the field, and for today the wedding venue, many guests were already sitting down, Nathan sat on the other side of the gate tuning his guitar, I’m so glad they let him do this, it’ll be a memory he’ll hold for the rest of his life.

“You look beautiful,” Danny said as we got into conversation, Seb was seemingly finding many common subjects for them to talk about but my mind was distracted as I tried to stop myself from looking around and looking for him. Blue was my colour he’s said it himself many times before, maybe he’ll give me a compliment too, like he used to.

“Looking good Jackie,” Danny said as she came our way, mom said she basically planned this whole event by herself.

“You look great Jackie,” I added with a smile, she also wore a beautiful baby blue dress with a shoulder cover, her style choices never missed and whoever came up with the colour scheme should be given a bonus.

“You too Y/n, feels like I barely see you now a days, but we’re seated together so we’ll have the chance to catch up,” she smiled and reached out to hold me hand, “come on lets sit down we’re going to start in a minute”. I called Seb and we went to sit down.

“Hi y/n you look lovely, Seb,” Alex came up to us to sit next to Jackie, we’ve talked here and there, and god did I miss him and his goofy smile. He put his arm around Jackie and we all talked a little, Seb’s hand landed on my knee and whilst usually it was quite nice right now it felt suffocating, like I was in a prison of my own making.

The actual wedding ceremony was beautiful, they both looked great and you could just tell by the glimmer in their eyes that they’re so in love. Everything was going smoothly until Cole’s speech, he didn’t do anything wrong, he was honest and spoke from the heart, whether I could believe entirely that it was just about Hayley and Will I wasn’t sure but who else but us kids would be able to tell.

It was during the speech that Alex started getting fidgety, I wanted to reach out and hold his hand, run my thumb over his skin soothing him but I couldn’t, Jackie wasn’t helping much either, staring at Cole as if he’s some kind of god, eyes almost watering as he spoke.

Seb put his arm around me and I learned into him, my head on his shoulder eyes closed. When I opened them back up after Cole finished Alex was looking directly at me. I gave him a smile, but he looked away quickly.

I regretted complimenting the flowers as soon as Nathan explained their meaning and Jackie’s and Cole’s eyes found each other like magnets again, but when I looked to Alex his eyes were once again on me, he put his arm around Jackie and whispered something in her ear, she nodded but her eyes were cautious, unsure.

The dancing began soon after, Seb quickly asked if I wanted to dance sensing the awkward atmosphere at the table, he wasn’t so good with dealing with awkward bless him. Jackie and Alex didn’t take long to join us, they danced closer together whispering in each other’s ears, his hand ran up and down her arm.

I couldn’t watch any longer, “I’m sorry, I need to just take a second,” I hurried out of Seb’s, who now looked very confused, arms and towards the house. I could hear him faintly asking if he wanted me to come but I couldn’t answer, I grabbed onto my chest trying to get myself to breathe normally. I hope my exit wasn’t as dramatic on the larger scale as it felt.

The downstairs bathroom was girl heaven in this house, the one place where all you could smell was some kind of flowers, every surface was constantly clean and it was a clear zone from the Walter boys.

“Y/n/n,” a voice asked followed by a series of knocks, I would know that secret pattern anyway, I wiped my nose again, I wanted to tell him to go away, I didn’t need him seeing me like this, pitying me. “Come on Y/n can we talk?”, after a few seconds he still stood there, waiting, “I know I’m idiot, please,” this time I could clearly hear the desperation in his voice.

I opened the door and leaned to sit back down on the side of the bath. I didn’t want to meet his eyes. He reached out for my arms and lifted me up, my gaze still on the floor. I wasn’t expecting him to pull me into the biggest embrace of my life. I frozen for a second unable to move, but I melted into the hug, my hands sound their way around his neck and he pulled me closer.

“I’m so sorry Y/n I’ve been an idiot, who didn’t know what good he had until he lost it,” he pulled away just enough to see my face, “and now I’ve made you cry, wow I really am the worst,” I chuckled at this.

“I ended things with Jackie, I think we were both pretending that we worked because we were both scared,” he said with contemplation.

“Scared of what?” I asked but it came out as a whisper.

He looked between both of my eyes, his hands unravelled from around me to secure a place on my face. We were so close I could feel his breath on me.

“To do this,” he whispered back and closed the gap between us, his lips met mine, my hands went to his waist and he pulled me closer and closer. When he pulled away it seemed like I was in some starstruck haze, we’d kissed before at some party playing spin the bottle but that was nothing compared to this.

“Will you forgive me? Can we start this over?” He asked hopefully. I wanted to immediately jump into his arms and kiss him again but then there was Jackie and Seb.

“What about Jackie?” I asked weakly.

“I think we both know her and Cole have had this connection from the beginning it, but I was her safe option, just like she was mine and Seb is yours, my god I couldn’t watch any time his hands came anywhere near you, knowing that should have been me, it could have been me all along,” he said and this time I went on my tip toes, arms around his neck and kissed him like I’ve never been kissed before. Now I would just have to figure out a way to tell Seb.

“Don’t think you’re completely off the hook for ditching me for a girl,” I said walking out of the bathroom with a glance over my shoulder.

“Oh no I know I’ve got to work for it, but where are you going I want to kiss you, I need to kiss you come back!” he called trailing behind me.

“I need to talk to Seb,” I said solemnly, though I’ve got to admit a wedding is the worst place for all of this to work out. Seb was very understanding, I think he could tell what was coming from miles away but wanted to give me the benefit of the doubt. We hugged one last time and he went over to talk to Danny and some of the others.

Jackie started walking towards the barn, Cole must have ran away too, I chuckled to myself, she turned around for a second meeting my eye. She gave me a bright smile and put up both her thumbs up at me, I put a thumbs up back, and that was how I knew we were okay.

“So you want to dance?” Alex asked pulling my attention back to him. I agreed but only if it was proper dancing not whatever weird arm tugging thing he was doing with Jackie.

And so we danced the night away, all of us kids being the last ones left out in the night. We sat around and talked, played board games in one of the tents till morning, it was finally like everything was in place.

I leaned my head on Alex’s shoulders as everyone started heading to bed. Now everything was in place.

MASTERLIST

#alex walter #alex walter x reader #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #romance #cole walter x reader #netflix

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dabiekql · 6 months

Text

HQ Ushijima, Atsumu, Oikawa, Kuroo, Bokuto - Calling Them by Their Last Name (Fluff)

-----

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Y/n remembered the video she just watched recently and decided to try it out to Ushijima. She was trying to find the right timing to call out his last name when Ushijima seemed to noticed her constantly glancing at him. He put down his spoon to focus on her.

"What is it?" Ushijima asked with a slight tilt.

Y/n's eyes glittered in excitement, "Ushijima."

She stared at him in anticipation, but instead of the reaction just like the video she watched, Ushijima did not look even the slightest bit affected. "What's the matter?"

Y/n huffed at his reaction and just shook her head. "Nothing..."

After they were done with their meal, Y/n was washing the dishes when Ushijima came behind her and back hugged her. His arms around her felt tighter than usual that Y/n turned off the faucet before turning her head towards him. "What's wrong, Toshi?"

However, Ushijima stayed silent. Thinking it wasn't really a big deal that y/n turned the faucet back on and continued to washed the dishes. By the time y/n was done with the dishes, that was when Ushijima spoke. "Now you are calling me Toshi?"

"Hmm?" Y/n made a bewildered expression as she hugged him back. But soon she figured out what was the reason and giggled at his cuteness. "I thought you weren't bothered by that!"

"I just didn't know how to respond since I was shock."

"You're so adorable, Toshi!"

"Were you just fooling around?"

Y/n nodded in glee as Ushijima's arms tightened even further in relief.

-----

Miya Atsumu

As soon as she saw the video, she immediately thought of trying it out to Atsumu. When she saw Atsumu entering the living room, she called out his last name, "Miya."

"HUH?!" Atsumu yelled out in shock. "Why are you calling me Miya?!"

"You are Miya though."

When y/n replied with a deadpanned expression, Atsumu felt chills run down his spine. "Did I do something wrong? I don't remember doing anything wrong recently at least..."

When y/n saw Atsumu panicking, she tried her best to not burst out laughing. "Miya."

"I really don't know what I did! But whatever it is, I'm sorry, so please stop calling me by my last name!" Atsumu cried out.

When y/n did not reply, Atsumu quickly thought off something else. "W-What if Samu is here?! You will get us confused!"

Although Atsumu smirked in triumph, y/n just rolled her eyes. "I can call him Osamu then."

Atsumu's eyes widened. "What the hell are you saying?! Are you crazy?! You're supposed to call ME by my first name since I AM your boyfriend! And not him!"

"It's my choice," When y/n smirked, Atsumu jumped up and down in frustration, saying that there is no way he will allow that. At his reaction, y/n gave up and tried to calm him down. "Ok, ok. I get it, some yelling!"

"Quick! Say my name!"

Y/n let out a sigh before saying his name, "Tsumu."

Atsumu smiled in satisfaction as he hugged her tightly. "Don't ever call me by my last name! Call Samu by our last name instead!"

"I'll do it again if you do something that pisses me off."

"Huh?! That's not fair!"

"What do you mean, it's not fair?!"

Y/n was supposed to tell him she was just pulling a prank on him, but she missed the timing and they ended up bickering once again.

-----

Oikawa Tooru

"Oikawa," When y/n called him by his surname, Oikawa froze on the spot. At his reaction, y/n had to stop herself from bursting out laughing before calling out his surname again. "Oikawa."

"Y-Y/n, did I do something wrong?!"

When Oikawa asked with teary eyes, y/n didn't say anything to it and just shrugged her shoulders before entering her classroom. Oikawa who was now left alone in the hallway, he quickly back tracked his actions, trying to figure out his mistake. "What did I do wrong?! I thought we were fine just a moment ago?! What do I do?!"

When Oikawa couldn't think of a reason, he immediately headed towards Iwaizumi. "Iwa-chan!"

When Iwaizumi saw teary eyed Oikawa, he groaned in tiredness. "What?"

"What do you think I did wrong?!"

"Do you even have something you didn't do wrong?"

"Iwa-chan, I'm being serious right now!"

Iwaizumi sighed. "Did y/n get angry at you?"

"I wouldn't say 'she got angry at me', but she called me by my last name!"

"THAT'S IT?!" Iwaizumi glared at him in disbelief.

"I said, she called me by my SURNAME and not my first name! That means she's mad at me!"

"Then you did something wrong," Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "Just go apologize."

"I need to know what I did wrong in order for me to apologize! You don't know anything about girls, Iwa-chan! No wonder you don't have a girlfriend!"

"KUSOKAWA!" When Iwaizumi stood up with a menacing aura, Oikawa quickly ran away.

When school has ended, Oikawa was walking back home with y/n as usual. He constantly glanced at her in anxiousness, but y/n seemed to have forgot her prank a while ago that she smiled towards his way as she held his hand. "Tooru, let's go to a cafe before going home?"

At her smile, he forgot about his anxiousness as he nodded his head in excitement.

-----

Kuroo Tetsurou

Y/n was excited just by thinking about pranking him. As soon as she heard the entrance door open, she quickly headed towards the entrance with a serious expression. "Kuroo, welcome back."

When Kuroo heard his last name from her lips, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before grinning at her as he approached her. Not expecting this type of reaction, y/n's eyes widened as she unconsciously tried to backed away from him. However, Kuroo was faster than her. He quickly enveloped her into his embrace and lowered his lips towards her ear before whispering, "Are you calling me by my last name before you become Kuroo as well?"

Y/n's face flushed as she tried to push him away from him. "Who said I was marrying you?!"

Kuroo let her push him as he continued to grin at her. "Oya? I'm pretty sure you will marry me."

"How are you so sure?!" Y/n pouted as she crossed her arms.

"Hmm... I wonder how."

Y/n felt chills running down her spine at his smile that she quickly nodded her head. "Of course I'll marry you..."

Kuroo let out a chuckle before hugging her.

"Tetsu?!"

"I find it adorable that you try to pull this prank, but I do prefer it when you call me Tetsu."

-----

Bokuto Kotaro

"Bokuto."

Bokuto dropped his spoon in shock at the sound of his last name leaving her lips. When y/n saw his reaction, she instantly bursted out laughing. However, he doesn't seem to register her reaction as he entered his down mood.

"Y-Y/n...? Did I do something wrong?"

When Bokuto asked with a small voice, y/n smiled at his adorableness as she stood up without a word. Bokuto's eyes followed her movement as his anxiousness rose each second.

Before he could sink deeper into his down mood, y/n handed him a new spoon. "Here, Kotaro. You dropped your spoon."

When she called him his first name and smiled, his mood instantly brightened. "HEY HEY HEY!"

Bokuto went back to enjoying his food while y/n just shook her head with a grin. This was exactly why she enjoys pulling a prank on him.

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lordprettyflackotara · 15 days

Text

more than friends || Sam & Colby || Part two

smut, 18+, minors dni. this is literally just pure long fucking filth with like the tiniest string of a plot

part one is here

Figuring out a relationship dynamic with both Sam and Colby wasn’t easy.

Sure, you expected both of them to be protective and loving. Sam often cooked you all breakfast, while Colby enjoyed paying for dinner. You expected something like this when you three had agreed to be more than friends.

And of course you expected them to fuck your brains out ever so often.

What you didn’t anticipate on was how competitive they were when it came to you.

They often bickered about who made you cum harder, who made your beg harder, etc etc.

It was starting to drive you insane, the two often bickering during sex and after it too.

You poked at your scrambled eggs, the constant nonsensical contest creating a persistent annoyance.

“No im telling you dude, did you see the way her eyes rolled back? I made her cum harder just on my fingers,” Colby argued, chewing a piece of bacon. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Her thighs were fucking trembling by the time I was done with her, nothing beats that,” Sam debated. You forced yourself to take a bite of your eggs, not wanting them to get cold.

“You’re on literal crack, didn’t you see the way she-” Colby began. You swallowed your eggs, slamming your fork down.

“Holy fuck you two are insufferable. If you guys are going to keep droning on about this why don’t we make it official? Tonight, both of you fuck me, and whoever did it better gets bragging rights, deal?” You offer. Two sets of blue eyes met yours, faint traces of guilt crossing both boys faces. “So you’ll be completely honest and won’t lie to protect our feelings?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. You couldn’t take his facial expression seriously, a small giggle escaping your lips.

“No Sam, I won’t lie to protect anyone’s feelings. I’m going to have to pick a winner so you both will decide to bicker about something else,” You agreed. Your boyfriends exchanged mischievous looks, the sight giving you a pit of anticipation forming in the bottom of your stomach.

You gave them simple instructions, to meet you in Colby’s room at ten pm sharp. You sat naked on the end of his bed, the velvet comforter beneath you satisfying to your bare skin. You didn’t want any clothes getting in the way. Their bickering and competition did annoy you, but it also formed an unexplainable arousal that you couldn’t ignore.

It had only been three months since your boyfriends had walked in on you touching yourself to the thought of them, that night changing your life forever. You absolutely adored them.

Almost as much as they adored you.

Colby was possessive of you, to say the absolute very least. He wasn’t a fan of polygamy, until he met you. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he fell for you, but he could remember exactly when he realized Sam did too. It wasn’t a grand reveal, something he was sure that Sam didn’t realize he revealed. They were both editing a new video, ensuring to crop you out per your request. The very last thing you wanted was to piss off your best friends fanbase.

“This sucks dude, I don’t like doing this,” Sam sighed, cutting a piece of the video out. Truthfully, both of the boys thought you were more entertaining than they were. Especially with your reactions. “Me either, I mean her reaction to the chair sliding in the other room right here is golden,” Colby said, pointing to a particular time stamp in the video. You had the cutest expression, grabbing almost Colby’s arm instinctively. Sam dragged the mouse over to the part Colby was referring to, double clicking it and watching the video back.

“I respect what she wants, but they’re going to figure out about the three of us one days anyways,”

It was something about the way he said it. Or maybe it was the way he chose to word it. But Colby knew right there and then that Sam loved you just as much as he did. And that meant if you felt the same way, you wouldn’t choose either of them.

Sam eyed Colby carefully as he slid off his hoodie, revealing his undershirt. In most cases he wouldn’t have thought twice, the brunette in front of him his best friend. But tonight, he was nothing other than competition. Sam wasn’t possessive like Colby was, but he was helplessly jealous. He couldn’t help it, every fiber in him screaming envy when Colby held your hand, fucked you, tucked your hair behind your ear.

It didn’t matter what Colby did with you or to you, it made Sam crave to be in his place. He respected and enjoyed the dynamic that was established. He would never want to share you with anyone other than his best friend. He knew jealousy in a relationship was his toxic trait, and it only enraged further when you took them both in the bedroom.

Both boys assumed they had the upper hand, being self aware of their characteristics. Sam purposefully agreed to letting Colby go first, knowing the sight of you under the brunette would make him go feral from envy. Colby opted to go first to remind you of who he was. He wanted you to remember you belonged to him. Colby wasn’t planning on playing fair, he just wanted to win.

It wasn’t long before both boys entered the room, eager to begin the long night ahead of them.

Colby whistled at the sight of you, your naked body a sight for sore eyes. Fuck, he could never get enough of you. Sam respectfully took his seat in a nearby chair, giving you both space while also providing a wonderful view to the show he knew was about to start playing.

“Hi beautiful,” Colby greeted. You stared up at him nervously, trying hard to ignore Sam’s gaze. You intended on doing exactly what you said, voting a winner to ensure they’d never bicker again.

With that intention meant whoever was in front of you had your full undivided attention.

Colby towered over you as he met your lustful eyes, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. He dragged it down teasingly, soaking in the image of your doe eyes anticipating his next move.

The control in the bedroom often rotated frequently, depending on the mood everyone was in. A majority of the time the boys were in control, even when you had them one on one. On occasion they’d let you have your fun, riding them while spewing degrading words they’d mock you for later. But by the way they both eyed you, as if you were prey, you knew any ounce of control was not going to be in your hands.

“Lay back for me princess, spread those pretty legs of yours,” Colby ordered. He threw his shirt over his head, his well built body making your pupils widen as you did as he asked. Had he been working out more? How hadn’t you noticed this sooner? You were so fixated on him that your brain didn’t process him walking over to your nightstand. He grabbed an all too familiar pink vibrator from the drawer, causing you to swallow. Hard.

“You’re going to hold this onto that pretty clit of yours. If you move it without permission I won’t let you cum, understood?” Colby asked, his voice an octave lower than it usually was. You nodded, watching as he turned the vibrator up to its highest setting. You gulped nervously as he handed it to you, watching as you placed it onto your throbbing heat. The vibrations made you whimper, your core desperate for some sort of release.

Colby grabbed you by your legs, dragging you down to the edge of the mattress. He kneeled down in front of you placing kisses on the inside of your thighs. Teasingly he brought a finger to your entrance, your hips pleading for him to get on with it. “So wet for me all ready, all over a little plastic toy,” Colby purred, soaking in your desperate noises.

He brought one finger inside of you, then two, curling him deeply. Your back arched off of the bed as the brunette picked up the pace with his fingers, abusing your g spot. “Look at that, your backs arching for me and I haven’t even bent you over yet,” Colby observed, smirking as he glanced at his best friend. Sam could feel his boner aching against the fabric of his tight jeans.

“Bet Sam couldn’t make you feel like this, could he?” Colby asked, squeezing your thighs as he finger fucked you. You bit your bottom lip, attempting to restrain yourself from mindlessly agreeing with him. Sam smirked at your resistance.

“Looks like you’re going to have to try a little harder then that Colby,”

Sam’s words cut Colby’s ego like a knife, his blue eyes narrowing as he centered his attention back on you. In a swift motion he spread open your cunt, before playing the vibrator back directly on your clit. You squirmed under the feeling of his fingers and merciless vibrations, throwing your head back as you moaned. “You can take it, I know you can. Go ahead and cum for me,” Colby ordered, admiring the sight of you crumbling before him.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten, a mischievous smirk dancing across Colby’s lips as your walls squeezed him tighter. “Go ahead and tell Sammy how good you feel,” Colby said, cocking his head to his best friend. You bucked your hips against Colby’s fingers, the filthy confession spewing from your lips,

“Fuck it feels so fucking good Sammy, I-I-I-”

Your orgasm was about to crash down on you, Colby’s spare hand turning your head.

“Look at Sam while you cum for me,” He whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You gripped the handle of the vibrator harshly, whimpering. You looked at your blonde lover, hardly able to take in his expression as you fell apart on Colby’s fingers. Sam couldn’t take it anymore, unbuckling his belt as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He knew it was only a matter of time until he made you feel that way, but the waiting was only driving him more insane.

As you settled down from your high you went to move your vibrator, Colby’s strong hand stopping you. “What did I say? Keep it here,” He ordered. You felt his fingers slide out of you, your legs beginning to tremble from the overstimulation. He brought his cum covered fingers to your lips, grinning as you squirmed beneath him.

“Open your mouth,”

The command was simple, one you followed without a second thought.

“Now suck them clean whore,”

Colby shoved both of his fingers into your mouth, satisfied as he felt your tongue swirling around them. You were genuinely sucking them clean, the taste of your own juices coating your tongue. Your body felt electric, the sensation of the vibrator causing whimpers to non stop escape your throat.

“You dirty bitch. Turn over, all fours. I want you to look directly at Sam as I fucking ruin you,”

You struggled to get into position with the vibrator on your clit, the sound of Colby’s belt clinking sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Your eyes landed on Sam, who was his own panting mess. You could tell he was trying to pace himself, his face pink as he pumped his shaft teasingly slow. He knew this wasn’t the main event, just a show. But fuck, if only you could see yourself.

Your lips parted as Colby rubbed his tip up and down your slick, the way your back arched causing Colby pushing you down further into the bed. If it were up to Sam he’d burn this image into mind forever.

Your legs nearly gave out as Colby pushed himself inside of you, his strong hands holding you by your waist. “Fucking shit, you were made for me,” Colby groaned. He gripped your waist tighter, pinching at the tender flesh. You could feel him bottom out, his tip brushing against your g spot. You whined as you sank lower into the mattress, any composure you had completely washed away.

Colby started off slow at first, taking in the feeling of your walls milking him. The merciless vibration on your clit was overstimulating you to euphoria, your body practically vibrating on its own. “You’ve done so good for me baby, you can take the vibrator off of your pretty clit now,” Colby purred, continuing his teasingly slow strokes. You bit your bottom lip as you removed it from your cunt, your folds aching as you set it aside on the bed.

“There’s only one more thing I need you to do for me,” Colby panted, trying to keep himself together.

You licked your dry lips as you maintained eye contact with Sam, watching him quietly whimper as he jerked his cock to the sight of you.

“W-what’s that?”

“Be as loud as you can.”

Out of instinct you went to ask him what he meant, his hips snapping into yours without sudden warning. You couldn’t control the sounds that escaped your throat as Colby pounded into you. He gripped your waist so hard you could feel bruises forming, his cock abusing your g spot as he pleased.

“Fuck! Colby!”

His name was all you began to know, your vision growing hazy as he fucked you into the mattress. The brunette leaned forward, pressing the side of your face into the sheets below you. “Thats it, let Sam know who’s making you feel this good,” Colby groaned, grabbing a handful of your hair.

Colby’s thrust were merciless, his body seemingly have a mind of its own. For a brief moment he almost forgot about the bet entirely, too enamored by the feeling of your cunt taking him so well. It wasn’t until he heard Sam’s faint whine that he snapped back into reality. “Such a good girl, taking your owner, so well,” Colby spat, his orgasm approaching. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, yanking you towards him.

Your back was pressed against his chest, his mouth buried into the crook of your neck as he fucked you from behind. He snaked one hand to your throat, squeezing the sides gently. You swallowed under the feeling of his hand, Colby recognizing your body getting close again. With his other hand he began circling your overstimulated clit, causing you to cry out. “There we go, give poor Sammy a good show and cum for me. Cum on my dick,” Colby ordered. He kissed the side of your neck sloppily, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin.

“Feels soooo good,” You slurred, the knot in your stomach a rope threatening to snap. Your eyes were screwed shut, unable to open from the addicting pleasure. Colby squeezed your throat, his hips beginning to stutter. “Look at Sam as you cum for me, fucking do it. You’re mine,” He ordered. His words sent you over the edge, your small hands grabbing at his wrist as you came. Faint curses escaped Colby’s lips as he quickly pulled out, forcing your face back into the mattress as he jerked his cock.

You could feel the warm ropes of cum paint your ass, the tender flesh now coated with his seed. You were a panting mess, swallowing hard as you struggled to regain your breath.

Sam eyed you carefully, recognizing the exhaustion your body was experiencing. He glanced at Colby, who was quick to switch spots with him. The brunette had an indisputable look of pride painted across his face, one that annoyed Sam. The blonde stripped, tossing his clothes aside. Gently Sam flipped you onto your back, taking in your abused figure. He brushed some stray hairs out of your face, gently stroking your cheek as he admired you.

You slowly opened your eyes, your body coming down from the never ending high the boys planned on providing you. “Hi,” You greeted, giving him a small smile. Sam returned the sweet gesture, Colby’s presence fading away into the background as he focused on you. “Hi,” He replied, your perky nipples rubbing against his chest. You whimpered at the slightest sensation, causing Sam’s eyebrows to raise.

“We don’t have to keep going, I know Colby purposefully went hard-” Sam began rambling, his words being cut off by your soft lips against his. Sam returned the kiss eagerly, addicted to the feeling of the fire you sparked within him. You pulled away first, giving him a serious look. “I know the safe word you know. I want to keep going. I can handle whatever you give me,” You said boldly. Sam frowned as he heard Colby snicker.

“Whatever you say princess,”

Sam tilted your head to the side, preying on the side of your neck Colby hadn’t touched. His lips started off gentle, pecking soft kisses across your skin. Involuntarily he felt your hips buck up against his, rubbing against his hard cock. He began sucking at your neck, littering your skin with as many marks and bruises as he could. He wanted to see you covered in his love marks. He wanted to see you struggle to cover them up. To blush like crazy when anyone noticed them.

He kissed down your neck to your chest, gently pulling and twisting at your nipples. Your soft noises were sounds of encouragement, his lips stopping right above your waist. “Are you sure you’re able to handle me?” Sam asked. He teasingly pressed two kisses lower, his hot breath fanning over your puffy folds. You nodded, mumbling a verbal yes as your hips bucked upwards.

The blonde licked a stripe up your cunt, your juices coating his tongue. “Shit Sam-” You gasped, your hand flying down to his blonde hair. You tugged at the roots, desperately trying to drag his mouth back to your cunt. Sam met your gaze, smirking as he placed a light kiss on your folds. “Cmon princess, use my mouth the way you need. Make yourself cum on my tongue like the desperate slut I know you are,” He huffed, flattening his tongue for you to use.

Sam wrapped his arms around your thighs as he dove into your dripping cunt. You could feel him lap at your folds as if your taste was addicting, the blonde sucking at your abused clit as if his life depended on it. Colby could feel himself getting hard again, the brunette in denial that he was getting turned on by this. But the way you tugged at Sam’s hair, mixed in with the lewd noises of him lapping at your cunt, was too much for the brunette to ignore.

Sam craved friction, his selfish needs causing him to buck his own hips against the mattress. He was desperate for any form of pleasure, his own whimpers muffled by your cunt as he stuck his tongue inside of your entrance. You just tasted so fucking good, he couldn’t help but be greedy. He continued humping the sheets as your thighs tightened around him, the blonde sensing what was coming.

You could feel another orgasm approaching, your legs violently shaking. Sam forced your lips open, his strong hands keeping them pried apart. This orgasm felt different, the constant overstimulation pushing your body to new heights. “Fuck Sam I- I can’t hold back any longer, feels so fucki-” You babbled, your thighs trembling as you squeezed around Sam’s head. You felt a different cord inside of you snap, your juices coating Sam’s face as you came.

Your face was beet red as you realized what you had done, the blonde unfazed as he licked your cunt clean. You had never, ever squirted from head before. You sat up, embarrassed as Sam continued licking you clean. At this point he was licking your inner thigh, ensuring you were thoroughly cleaned by his tongue. “That was the hottest thing I think i’ve ever seen,” Sam chuckled, slightly out of breath. He marveled at your bright red face, leaning over you.

“I’m so so sorry I-”

Sam frowned at the sound of your apology, his hand harshly grabbing your chin.

“Don’t apologize, if it were up to me i’d make you do that all night long,” Sam began. He froze mid sentence, glancing up at his best friend. It was relishing seeing in the same chair he once sat, cock in hand as he watched Sam have his way with you. “But unfortunately I have a competition to win,” He finished. Sam grabbed your legs, sitting them on both of his shoulders.

He slapped the head of his cock on your puffy folds, the feeling alone causing you to audibly whine. “I’m going to fucking break you,” Sam grunted, pushing himself inside of you. Your body was spent, your entire body feeling as if it was going to be engulfed in flames. “Sammy,” You whined. The blonde leaned forward, allowing you to claw at his back as you pleased.

Your walls dragged him in, causing him to bottom out quicker than he expected. As much as Sam would never admit it, he knew he needed to act quickly to make you cum one last time. He could feel his own orgasm coming, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. “One more, that’s all I want,” Sam cooed, picking up the pace. You felt like you were going to split in half, your moans jagged and incoherent babbling and whimpers. You could feel tears flooding your waterline, the overstimulation becoming overwhelming.

You didn’t think being cock drunk was real until that very moment, where nothing else seemed to exist but Sam and his cock pounding into your dripping cunt. “You feel so fucking good, you know that don’t you?” Sam asked, groaning as he snapped his hips back into yours. Your nails were digging into his back, the skin surely red with fresh scratches. That pain you were unintentionally providing, along with your walls squeezing him to death, Sam thought he may cum too quick if he thought about it too much.

A devious thought entered Sam’s mind, one he was surprised Colby hadn’t thought of.

“You know what I think i’m gonna do?”

The blonde briefly glanced at Colby, whose eyebrows were raised.

You barely heard what Sam said, hanging on for dear life as he abused your g spot. “I think i’m gonna cum inside of you, make you mine,” Sam borderline announced, resuming his full focus onto you. He got close to your ear, ensuring you had heard him. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be my personal cumdump?” Sam spat. You whined in agreement, a final rope in your stomach beginning to tighten. Your legs were trembling, your throat strained from all of the noises you couldn’t help but make.

“Awe that’s it, cum for me. You’re gonna look so pretty full of my cum,”

His words barely registered, your vision getting hazy as you came again. You could feel yourself getting dizzy, your mind spinning from your fourth orgasm. You were panting like a dog, faintly feeling Sam cum inside of you before pulling out. You were covered in sweat and tears, your mouth dry and pussy dripping with cum.

It wasn’t long before you felt a cool wet wash cloth brush against your forehead, wiping away the sweat before brushing away the tears. As your vision settled you recognized Colby’s concerned eyes, soaking in your expression as he cleaned you. “Hi Colbs,” You whispered. You looked for Sam, your eyes instead finding Colby had came a second time, his white ropes painting his stomach. “You can clean yourself up you know,” You say, trying to move his wrist away from tending to you.

“You’re more important,” He grumbled, his complete focus on you. Sam returned into your line of sight, tossing Colby a towel. You had been repositioned to the edge of the bed, the blonde kneeling in front of you to clean your abused cunt. His blue eyes looked up to greet yours, his lips pressing a loving kiss onto your thigh. “This may sting,” He warned. Sam gently began wiping your cunt, the feeling alone making you grab his wrist. He went slower, careful to avoid your puffy clit. They wanted to ensure you were clean and taken care of, no matter what.

You sat up on your elbows, your eyes widening as you looked at Sam’s back. Long red scratches trailed down his shoulder blades to his waist. “Holy fuck Sam i’m so sorry,” You rambled, immediately feeling bad. Sam chuckled as he admired your horrified facial expression. “It’s a badge of honor, don’t apologize. And may I say, a token of victory?” He asked curiously. You weren’t sure how to announce a winner, both boys overstimulating you into heaven.

Two sets of curious eyes landed on you, trying to conceal their eagerness.

You glanced between both boys, shrugging.

“I can’t decide, guess we’ll just have to do this again tomorrow,”

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