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#protective tangerine
definitionsfading · 1 year
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thinking about little boy tangerine always leaving a bit of something extra on his plate or school lunch tray that he pretends he “doesn’t want” because lemon is so skinny and small when they’re young and he wants his friend to have enough to eat so he can grow, fast forward to 20+ years later when they’re both grownass men and tangerine always still leaves his extra toast or pudding on the edge of his plate for lemon to pinch because old habits die hard even when his best mate outgrew him in size and strength years ago :’)
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We’ll Take Care of It
Fandom: Bullet Train
Characters: Tangerine, Lemon and GN!Reader (they’re siblings)
Summary: Your ex contacts you as you’re spending time with your brothers and they notice as your mood changes. They decide to help you.
Notes: I do not own Tangerine, Lemon or Bullet Train.
I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.
Posted on AO3 here
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Since your brothers decided they weren’t going to take any jobs over the next few days, they would spend them with you. You had asked them if they would and when it came to you, they could never say no.
As you were sitting there, enjoying the time you’re spending with your brothers, a text came through on your phone. You picked it up to make sure it wasn’t anything urgent, when you saw who it was from, your ex. But not just any of them, the worst one of all. This was the one that spent most of the time abusing, gaslighting and making you feel like you weren’t worth anything by the end of your relationship with them.
All of those feelings from when you were in that relationship started to come back, which made tears pool in your eyes until one slipped and you started crying softly. You tried to not alert your brothers, but you’ve never been able to hide from Tangerine. He saw you and knelt in front of you, knowing that if he doesn’t be gentle right now, you could hit him.
“What’s wrong, love?”
You handed him your phone, and curled up more before responding, “from an ex.”
He took it and saw the notification. He looked furious, like he wanted to rip someone’s throat out. He asks you for access to your phone as Lemon comes over. He hugs you as he says something about always feeling like your ex was a diesel and Tangerine shows him your phone. He hugs you tighter before letting you go. Tangerine hands the phone back to you and tells you that he’s deleted the message.
“Love, we’ll deal with it,” Tangerine told you, as he stood up. “I’ll put the alarm on, so you’ll be safe.”
The two of them left and you watched tv until you fell asleep.
You didn’t hear them come back but woke up when Tangerine put you in your bed. You looked at him and saw him in a different shirt to the one he was wearing before.
You yawned before asking, “Is it done?” You closed your eyes, since you were still so tired.
“Yeah, love,” Tangerine whispered. “We took care of it.”
“Always protect me?”, you asked quietly as you settled in comfortably.
“Of course,” he replied quietly, before kissing the side of your head, and getting up. “Always.” You fell back asleep before he walked out to go see Lemon.
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snowymav · 2 years
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going to footy matches with tangerine despite not being interested in the game. seeing how excited he gets whenever his team scores and how angry he gets whenever the opposing team does, swearing, shouting and cheering them on for the full 90 minutes. and then when it’s over, because he stays until the very end, you end up in the floods of people leaving the stadium getting shoved in every direction. tangerine makes sure to keep you close, arms linked as he puffs out his chest ready to hurt anyone that so much as comes close to you.
when you get out of the stadium he’ll walk the two of you over to his car, holding your hand as you cross the roads, pulling you back onto the pavement if you accidentally step out in front of a car. taking it out on the car rather than the fact you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, cursing blindly at the poor driver and tugging you along with his middle finger pointing towards the front window.
and when you get home, lemon would be waiting on the couch half asleep, jumping up into a fighting stance before yours and his brothers laughter finds its way to his ears. sitting back down and letting you cuddle up to his side as tangerine makes you all a cup of tea. then you’d let yourself fall asleep as the two boys talked about the match, lemon having watched it on the tv while you were out.
being jostled awake by tangerine picking you up, blinking tiredly before snuggling into him.
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thunderslighthouse · 3 months
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my bitch ass cat almost sliced my arm open cause i wouldn't let him go outside to fight the stray cat that likes to sunbathe in our backyard (who is also much bigger than my cat) and is now roaming the halls meowing and growling like he's been denied a basic human (cat?) right
it is 3:37 pm.
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ikkaku-of-heart · 9 months
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@thundertempo​ asked: 💋 Nami~
everyone sending ‘💋’ in my inbox gets a kiss from my muse. (Still Accepting!)
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Ikkaku took a sip of her drink, raising an eyebrow at Nami. She was flirting with the other Hearts and they were eating out of the palm of her hand, fetching her drinks and saying just about anything to make her smile. Unfortunately, she then overheard the cat thief requesting that the boys give her a tour of the Tang’s treasure hold.
Ikkaku knew they were allies, but she did not trust the Straw Hats yet, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let the Cat Thief anywhere near their treasure. More importantly, Ikkaku wasn’t going to let her manipulate her boys in any way that would get them in trouble with Law. Not when he’d already gone through enough on Dressrosa. Not when they’d already gone through so much waiting for him.
Maybe Nami didn’t mean anything by it, but she had a reputation, and some things you didn’t take chances on. The greed of a top-tier burglar was one of them.
Getting up from where she sat by the bonfire, Ikkaku sauntered over, pushing past the crowd of men. Leaning down, she grabbed Nami’s chin and lifted it to look her in the eyes. “You’re not setting foot in our treasure hold. I don’t care how ‘innocent’ your intentions are. If I find so much as a single coin missing, you’ll be getting the full bill for exactly how much all of the repairs cost for the damage your captain did to my ship on Amazon Lily. And the medical bill for Law’s life-saving surgery. And hell, we’ll throw in an estimated bill for fuel, food, and transportation costs for bringing half of your crew to Wano. So, quit messing with your allies and play nice, yeah?” With a cold smile, Ikkaku leaned in and pressed a kiss to Nami’s lips to cut off any protests or excuses. Letting her chin go, the engineer pulled away and walked off. Seemed the party was over for her. It was time to add some extra security measures to the treasure hold.
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sanjisprincesswifey · 3 months
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pros and cons
summary: the good, the bad, the ugly, perfectly curated into a pros and cons list
♡: reupload (but better now), some nsfw content is listed; MDNI, includes all characters with indications of a female reader!
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black leg sanji
pros:
constantly wants to color coordinate your outfits together
let’s you pick meals at minimum once a week
very good kisser (he practiced with his pillow a lot before your first date)
he wants you to walk him like a dog
sanji never lets you forget how much you mean to him
always remembers important dates, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. 
remembers the little things and notices your absence (will often go to try and find you)
adapts to whatever love language you respond to 
cons:
the nicotine smell embeds into your sheets and clothes and is a pain in the ass to get out
yells for any minor inconvenience
occasionally too handsy
always finishes before you
major jealousy issues
is constantly horny
says he’s fine but he’s dying inside
doesn’t understand the concept of alone time and takes it personally if you ask to be by yourself
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roronoa zoro
pros: 
the best napping partner
protective
is a softie but only with you
very emotionally intelligent 
gym trainer boyfriend
let’s you take the relationship at your own pace because he can’t be bothered 
loves to mark you and give you hickies
always makes sure you finish first 
cons: 
stinky (bro smells like sweat and steel)
does not have a single romantic bone in his body; you’ll literally have to teach him how to be a boyfriend
is extremely blunt 
snores super loud 
might fall asleep while you’re talking
you can no longer be friends with sanji 
doesn’t ask you to date him, just assumes you are together
gets upset when you can’t keep up with his drinking
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monkey d luffy
pros: 
the best hugger 
extremely loyal to you
hides midnight snacks for both of you
lets you sit on the ship’s figurehead with him
king of silly sentimental gifts (hand-picked flower, cool rock, pretty seashell, that sort of thing)
always makes sure you’re included in conversations
shares his favorite foods with you
can always make you feel better
cons:
doesn’t know how to be quiet or whisper
never lets you win arguments
throws himself at you with no regard to his strength
no concept of personal space
rubs his boogers on you
accidentally makes fun of the noises you make during sex
will steal blankets from you while you’re asleep  
points out your pimples or zits 
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usopp
pros: 
always finds a way to make you laugh
grows flowers for you
comforts you if you’re insecure
handmade gifts!!!!!!
brags about you to everyone
loves to show you off and tell stories about your adventures together
names special attacks after you
always lets you in on the pranks he pulls 
cons: 
is insecure
would sacrifice you to an enemy to protect himself
shows you bugs even if you’re afraid of them
incredibly awkward with all your firsts 
clammy hands
make jokes during arguments (it makes you madder and the cycle continues)
never tops
sometimes pranks you too 
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cyborg franky
pros:
is always telling you how hot you are
can literally build/make you anything you desire
romantic (can be corny sometimes though)
so flirty with you
human refrigerator; occasionally lets you store things in there
introduces you like this: “and this is my super smokin’ hot girlfriend, OW” to anyone who will listen
protects you during fights
king of reassurance
cons:
messy
never wears pants
slaps your ass too hard since he’s half metal
dad jokes 24/7
you can’t compliment him without him doing a montage of poses
difficult to cuddle with (again he’s made of parts)
always busy fixing something on the ship
is constantly asking you if he can make you a cyborg too
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nami
pros:
lets you take a few of her tangerines
immune to her reprimanding when something bad happens (most times)
extremely thoughtful gift giver
shares her money with you
cares deeply about you (don’t point it out though because then she’ll stop)
is always telling you how pretty you are
very good in bed
is more lenient with your allowance
cons:
pawns gifts you get her
bad communicator
critiques everything about you
can and will distance herself from you
charges you if you piss her off
talks about vivi way too much for having a whole other girlfriend
doesn’t apologize after fights even if she caused them
bullies you (with love)
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nico robin
pros:
leaves you notes in books to find later
the voice of reason in your relationship
notices and compliments you on every little change you make (haircuts, style change, etc.)
extremely good listener
literally a human search engine; so smart you can ask her almost any question and she knows the answer
passionate lover; treats you like a god in bed
soft lips
spoils you in every way that she can
cons:
can make you feel dumb with her endless knowledge
will never say ‘i love you’ first
always tops (a possible pro depending on your preferences tbh)
has nightmares almost every night ):
closed off in the beginning of your relationship
franky hits on her (and you) all the time
rather be reading than with you
takes your relationship extremely slow
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portgas d ace
pros:
can heat food up for you at any time day or night
loves pda
plans fun dates
probably says ‘i love you’ a million times a day
into body worship (both ways)
kills bugs for you
walk him like a dog, sis !
never says no to you
cons:
sweaty and greasy in the summer
farts and gives you a dutch oven
doesn’t take anything seriously
adhd moments
mommy AND daddy issues
likes to lay on top of you even though he’s huge and basically crushes you
talks with his mouth full
is loud in bed (because he enjoys it so much) and everyone can hear when you two have sex
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sabo
pros:
another body worshipper
dragon claw fist. need i say more?
the best secret keeper
praises you
would actually bow down to you
very respectful, asked you to kiss on your first date
awkward but sensual lover
a loyal puppy
cons:
loves being right
sore winner & loser
cocky ass mf
talks about luffy and ace 24/7
never on time
bad temper
might catch on fire if he’s mad
loves to tease you (again, could be a pro depending on your preferences)
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shanks
pros:
buys you anything you could ever want
good kisser
always showing you off
treats you like a queen
calls you his wife
very affectionate in public
another worshipper; does that thing where his kisses lead up from your hand to your shoulder
when he gets drunk and you try to kiss him, he pushes you away and says “get off me, i have a wife”
cons:
gets you riled up during the day
teases you all the time
can be unreliable
bad at flirting
drunk all the time
still makes jokes about his arm even though it’s been YEARS
lingering alcohol smell
pervert
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trafalgar law
pros:
rarely cooks but always does for you when you’re sick
smells amazing all of the time
lets you do this eyeliner in the morning (based off this fanart)
is a victim of the ‘she fell first, he fell harder’ trope
gives you sound solutions to your problems
literally becomes addicted to you and can’t live without you
flusters easily, very shy
would shave his facial hair if you asked him to (please tell him to shave off that godforsaken beard)
cons:
very blunt
never talks about his feelings
grammar police
a virgin; he doesn’t know what to do but fakes confidence like he does (it makes your first time a bit awkward but just talk him through it, babe)
humbles you without meaning to
over explains if you broach a subject he likes
sassy
just stares at you when you try to flirt with him
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eustass kid
pros:
scary boyfriend privilege
an absolute beast in bed
insanely good kisser
raspy morning voice
you get to use his boobies as a pillow
is very smart but kinda dumb
eats pussy like a starved man
will always save you some food (it’s how he shows he cares)
cons:
dramatic
hangs out with killer more than you
will put the milk carton back in the fridge even if it’s empty
you can never be mad at him or make him mad because he’s the biggest asshole ever
ignores you if you’re fighting
zones out while you’re talking
if you send him a long, thoughtful text, he’ll respond back with ‘k’
what’s his is his and what’s yours is his
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donquixote rosinante
pros:
walk. him. like. a. dog.
possessive over you, especially around his brother
would protect you with his last dying breath
absolute romantic
probably writes you poems
gentle giant, is so careful and soft with you
amazing cook despite accidentally setting himself on fire
has the patience of a god, once again, because of his brother
cons:
clumsy
you have to keep a fire extinguisher with you at all times
you can’t get the smoke smell out of his clothes
he’s so tall you can’t kiss normally, he has to pick you up
whiny
silent treatment
covers up his farts with his devil fruit and you don’t realize it until it stinks
has really bad resting bitch face (literally goes from :| to :) in .03 seconds)
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likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated (✿◠‿◠)
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kithtaehyung · 2 months
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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg
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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
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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 :'))
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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.” 
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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. 
-
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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. 
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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.
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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. 
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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. 
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After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning. 
Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection. 
“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.” 
“I know.” 
“I don’t wanna lose you.”
“It won’t happen again.” 
“That’s what you said last time.” 
Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.” 
“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 
When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 
Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 
After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 
“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 
Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 
“Babe?”
No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 
Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”
If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”
You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 
Never close enough.
His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.
“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”
It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—
“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 
When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”
“Yoongi…”
“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”
“Then… Those three months…”
“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 
Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 
“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”
Oh. That’s news to you. 
“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 
“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”
“What would’ve.”
“That I wanted you all to myself.”
“You already have that.”
When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”
Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”
The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”
“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”
“What if he does?”
You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”
Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”
“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 
“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 
Oh. Wait. “What?” 
Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”
Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 
Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 
“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”
Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 
And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 
Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 
“We’ll make it as many as we can.”
You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 
Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.
Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 
Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.
He loves you?
You still can’t accept that as fact.
…Maybe one day.
You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”
It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”
Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”
“Lies.”
“How much are you betting, doll.”
“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”
“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 
“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 
“Huh? When?”
“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 
The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 
He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 
“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 
“You love it.” 
“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 
“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 
“Guess what.” 
Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 
But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 
Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 
Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 
As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 
At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 
Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 
When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 
“I can!” 
Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 
His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 
This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 
And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 
Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”
After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”
You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 
Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”
Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 
You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 
…What?
No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—
“I wanna do this the right way.” 
Oh. 
Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 
Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 
When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 
Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…
Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 
When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.
And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.
“I’ll tell him everything.” 
-
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tbc. :)
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so... how did it go! | join the server!
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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
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scuderiahoney · 3 months
Text
Glad You’re Here
Oscar Piastri x insomniac!reader // Tangerine Pt. 1.5
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Masterlist // Tangerine Part 1 // Part 1.5 // Part 2
It’s been raining where I live this week and I couldn’t get this version of Oscar and reader out of my head. So, here you go- a little companion blurb from Oscar’s POV.
Word Count: 1.1k
find my other fics here, including the original one for this blurb!
Warnings: none
Oscar loves sleep. He could sleep anywhere, could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. It’s been an issue, actually- he habitually snoozes through alarms and constantly naps when he should be doing more important things.
It’s been an adjustment, dating you, because of that. It’s not that you don’t like sleep, you just… can’t. Honestly, it breaks his heart, because while tumbling into his bed at the end of the day is a relief for him, for you, it’s the opposite.
He’s watched you get worked up with exhaustion to the point of tears far too many times. He wishes he could take it all away, that he could reach deep into your brain and press the magic button that would let you sleep. You’ve tried lots of things- chamomile tea, melatonin, warm baths, hot milk and honey, but nothing seems to help.
That is, until Brazil.
It’s the end of a triple header, which is exhausting in its own way. You’re dragging, have been for days. He can see it in your eyes when you give him the update before qualis, can see the way it pulls at the corners of your lips. He wants to wrap you up in a hug and hold you there until you get so bored you fall asleep- though that doesn’t work, either. But the two of you are in public, surrounded by coworkers, so he refrains.
Dark clouds roll in over the track and cut the session short, which is less than ideal. Oscar climbs out of his car, frowning when he notices you’re missing from your usual spot in the garage. It’s odd, but not impossible. You could be in the bathroom, could be in a meeting- he’s not sure.
When he’s made it through his debrief and you’re still not back- which is odd since you’re a part of his team- he starts to get worried. Finally, he asks, trying to sound casual about it. It’s not necessarily a secret that the two of you are dating- the important people know, important being your bosses. He leans towards one of your closer coworkers, asks them if they know where you are.
“Oh, she left, I think,” she says, and Oscar feels even more concerned. “She said she didn’t sleep well last night, I think she wasn’t feeling good.”
Oscar blinks, rubs his thumb against his knee under the table. It’s odd that you wouldn’t have texted him before you left. He wonders if you went to your hotel room or his, feels a stab in his chest at the thought of you all alone and not feeling well. Not sleeping well the night before is an understatement- he knows you didn’t sleep at all, actually. You’d stayed in his room and read a book, a little light to read by and his head in your lap.
Once they dismiss him to head to the hotel, he beelines for his driver room to gather his stuff. Lando’s trying to make small talk on the way there, and when Oscar opens the door he’s following behind him. Oscar stops in his tracks, though, and Lando bumps into him, opening his mouth to make a comment when Oscar raises his hand and shushes him.
You’re there, curled up on the massage bed, tightly wound. You’re asleep.
“Oh,” Lando whispers. “I’ll go.”
Oscar nods, closes the door, walks over carefully. Your lips are barely parted, lashes tangled together, arms curled protectively around yourself. He watched the soft rise and fall of your shoulders, absolutely entranced.
The thing is, Oscar doesn’t actually see you sleep very often. When it does happen, you usually fall asleep after him, and then you wake up before him.
All of the tense energy is gone from your body. Your hair has fallen into your face, a strand across your lips that moves with every breath you take. He’s pretty sure you’re wearing one of his hoodies. You look so soft, like you’ve melted into the massage table. He wants to curl himself around you, into you, keep you close and warm and safe.
He sends Lando a text, asks him to knock quietly when the car to the hotel is ready. Then he locks the door and crosses the room. He’s so careful when he climbs onto the makeshift bed with you. He takes it inch by inch until he’s got you under one arm, his chin on top of your head. He doesn’t dare pull you close like he’d really like to, afraid of waking you up-
“Osc?” You say, voice soft.
He curses himself out in his head. He shouldn’t have risked it, should’ve just let you sleep, should’ve known this would happen. You’re going to kill him, probably- the one time you fall asleep easily, and here he is, ruining it.
“Sorry, baby,” he says, sighing. “You looked so cozy, I just thought- I didn’t mean to wake you.”
In response, you wrap one of your arms around him and pull yourself into his chest. Your cold nose brushes his neck, lips against his collarbone. You yawn and turn your face so that your cheek is pressed to his chest.
“S’okay, m’glad you’re here.” you mumble. “The storm made me sleepy.”
The rain is still pelting the side of the garage, sending the sound through the room. Every so often, there’s the distant sound of thunder. He wonders if a sound machine would help you sleep, tucks it away into his brain to try later. Right now, he brushes his lips against the crown of your forehead and rubs your back.
He opens his mouth to say something again, but then he feels it- your grip on him loosens, and your soft, even breaths wash over his neck. He pulls his head back just slightly, finds your eyes closed and your lips parted once again. You’re adorable when you’re sleeping. The relaxed look on your face makes his heart clench in his chest. He keeps rubbing your back lightly, afraid that if he’s stops you’ll wake up again.
He’s not tired, but he stays anyways. He stays and watches you sleep, even if it’s mildly creepy, even if Lando will definitely make fun of him for it if he ever finds out. He doesn’t know how long your sleep will last, so he’ll cherish every second of it.
On the car ride back to the hotel, he buys a sound machine off of Amazon. You try it the next time you can’t sleep. It doesn’t work. He waits until then to tell you the truth.
He absolutely hates thunderstorms.
a/n: thank you for all the love on the original fic!!
taglist: @4-mula1
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rockstarhaechan · 2 months
Text
nct dream getting caught making out | collab
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pairing: nct dream x fem!reader
warnings: smut, public making out, alcohol, steamy shower make out, mention of length and moaning, butt touching
note: this is a collab with @fullsunstrawberry <3 love you darling muahh <3
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rockstarhaechan
fullsunstrawberry
mark:
marks arms were wrapped around you, pushing you against the wall.
“mark what if someone comes in?” you mumbled in between the kiss, hands tangled up in his hair.
he suddenly looked at you, stroking your hair out of your face tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.
“baby no one is gonna come in, don’t you trust me?” he blurred out before pulling you back into a kiss, tongues playing with each other, while his hand found the way to your waistband of your skirt.
you could swear that you heard a knock on the door, but quickly turned your attention back to mark.
right as his hand slipped under your skirt someone opened the door and stepped in.
“what the fuck are you guys doing here” you looked at a mad chenle who’s arms are crossed in front of him, standing right next to the two of you.
helplessly staring down at the floor, feet shifting every now and then until mark finally spoke up.
“see it’s not what it looks like chenle” he scratched his neck, practically staring into chenle’s soul.
“i caught you two making out, bro what about ‘we are just friends’ “ he quoted while looking at you and mark.
being clearly embarrassed by what just happened but returning back to you signaling you to leave.
“we’re gonna talk about this later” mark just told you before you left the room leaving him alone with chenle.
renjun:
sitting in the corner of your favorite café, renjun beside you.
you two decided to grab some cake and coffee as celebration for you getting accepted into your new job.
“renjun should we wait for the others to arrive before ordering or are you going to order for them?” you asked him before turning your attention back to the waiter who was patiently waiting for your order.
“i’ll have an iced americano and a tangerine cake please” you told the waiter your order, and zoomed out when renjun told his drinks and snacks to the waiter.
“baby are you listening?” he grabbed your wrist gently, carefully pulling you on his lap.
no one was able to see the two of you cause you’ve been sitting in the very back of the café.
“renjun what are you doing” you let out a little laugh but before he even answered your question you suddenly felt his lips on yours.
his hands, traveling up your spine, yours resting on his chest.
your make out session was about five minutes long until someone behind you started talking.
“why in the middle of a café, can’t you guys get a room?” jeno asked the two of you.
“oh fuck” you mumbled, quickly sitting back on the bench, tugging your hair behind your ear acting clueless.
“well we ordered for you guys” you blurred out trying to cool down the situation.
“should’ve ordered a room for you guys” you heard jeno say quietly.
jeno:
protective boii
He knows that he would never be able to get you alone with a dorm full of men. Especially not in his bedroom.
The only place they didn't bother him in was the shower
it took a little bit of convincing but his hands on your body washing all the body soap off you was definitely worth it
"wait I think I missed a spot" His hand came up to your face and rubbed his thumb against your lips
"I knew this wasn't just an innocent shower" you giggled, already closing your eyes waiting for him to kiss you
when he did you stumbled a little bit, resulting in Jeno putting his arms around you and holding you against him
you felt his hardening length pressed on your body as his gaze traveled down your figure, taking in every curve. You felt shivers as you met his intense gaze
He leaned in again, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss
His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you.
You responded eagerly, running your fingers through his wet hair. The water from the shower cascaded around you
Right as your hands were making its way down his body, following the drops of water, a loud scream startled you both
Jeno quickly hid your body with his own while looking back to see who ruined the moment
Chenle stood there eyes widened In horror
“Get out before I gouge your eyeballs out!”
Chenle ran out of the bathroom screaming about how he just needed to brush his teeth
“You scared him!”
“HE SAW YOU NAKED!!”
jaemin:
This boy would not care at all! Instead, he would put on a show,,
“Come here princess” he called out with a mischievous grin.
"Yeah, no kissing tonight! The guys are here"
Jaemin did not get why you cared.
Pulling you onto his lap and letting his hand rest on your check "Baby, everyone knows not to disturb us"
You couldn't help but smile at his charm, giving in to his playful demands.
Jaemin saw your body relax and started pressing small kisses to your neck
As Jaemin's lips brushed against your neck, a shiver traveled down your spine. His touch was always electrifying.
You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to submit to the sensation, forgetting about everything else at that moment.
You could still hear the sound of laughter and chatter from the living room but you didn't care anymore, pulling his face away from your neck to finally meet his lips.
As you tangled your fingers in his hair, a soft moan escaped from his lips
"Let's take this off" He groaned, breaking the kiss to pull off your shirt
Not wasting any time he hungrily reconnected your lips. His hands explore every inch of your exposed skin.
You were so focused on Jaemin that you didn't even hear the door open
Jaemin's movements were swift and precise, his arms wrapping around your waist as he flipped you over with ease. He positioned himself on top of you, his body covering yours possessively.
"Don't just stand there! leave or join," his voice laced with arrogance and a bit of humor
Jaemin didn't bother to look up at whoever had entered the room. Instead, his eyes remained fixated on yours, filled with an intensity that sent a rush of heat through your veins.
haechan:
haechan invited you to one of his house parties with the rest of nct dream.
whenever he is at their dorm they usually throw a little party together while casually drinking a little bit.
after a while you started to get a little tipsy and everyone decided to play truth or dare.
haechan was the first one to spin the bottle and just to your surprise it landed on you.
“doll, truth or dare?” he questioned before you decided to go with truth.
“okay, is it true that you have a crush on me?” not knowing what to say you started to look around for help, but noticed that no one of the boys was going to help you so you’re stuck with this one.
“hm maybe, why don’t you find it out?” trying to sound confident about your answer but indirectly asking yourself if it was confident enough for them not to notice your huge ass crush on haechan.
you’re by now pretty wasted, it’s been an additional hour and you’re currently in the middle of the kitchen, looking for something normal to drink.
“where do these boys have their soda” you slurred out while looking into the different cabinets.
“whatcha lookin’ for” haechan hummed while grabbing your waist from the back, making you groan a little.
his hands slowly started to grip your waist tighter as you continued to look for a soda.
“babe” he called out, making you turn around.
“what did you just call me haechan?” looking into his eyes as you tried to get out of his grip.
not because he made you uncomfortable or anything else but because you didn’t know if you could resist him.
haechan noticed that you wanted to get away, so he pulled you even closer.
“i know you have a crush on me, why are you trying to run away now?” not being able to get a word out until you finally wanted to talk.
“i-i don’t-“ stuttering and stumbling over your own words when haechan cut you off by kissing you passionately.
picking you up without hesitation and placing you down on the kitchen counter before he started to kiss you again.
softly moaning into the kiss until you heard someone clearing their throat at the kitchen door.
haechan immediately broke the kiss and looked at the door, an impatient expression seen on mark and jisung’s face.
“we thought we should check up on you two since you’ve been missing for quite some time now, but guess you had something important to discuss” jisung said grossed out before turning around and dragging mark with him.
“can we continue now?” was the only thing haechan said before kissing you again and turning it into a heated make out session.
chenle:
He says it's your fault it happened because you looked too damn good!
He's been very busy, so he invited everyone to hang out...playing basketball
You protested at first but came around to the idea after he gave you his puppy dog eyes...how are you supposed to say no to them!!
You made sure to sneakily take one of his jerseys from his closet.
Showing up earlier than the guys just to get Chenle's reaction
"You ready to lose?"
Before he could say a sassy remark he turned to face you, mouth opening in shock
"You okay?" you laughed walking closer to him "You know exactly what you're doing" He smirked wrapping his arms around you.
"Even picked the one with my name" he whispered into your ear.
"You're my favorite"
"Good" He finally closed the distance between you two by pulling you from your hips and pressing his lips against yours
You pulled away before he could deepen the kiss, "We can't, the guys are going to be here soon"
"We got here early" he whined, looking at your lips before kissing you again. But this time he was in a rush, sliding his tongue into your mouth and letting his hands dig into your waist
The door to the court swung open, and the sound of laughter and chatter filled the room. You both jumped apart, trying to compose yourselves as the guys filed into the basketball court one by one.
"Hey, what's going on here?" Jaemin asked a mischievous glint in his eyes. He nudged Chenle playfully. "Did you guys start without us?"
Chenle cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with his friends. "Nah, we were just...practicing our moves."
Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, smirking knowingly. "Sure, sure. Practice makes perfect, I guess."
jisung:
This poor, poor baby… He doesn't even give you public affection, he might literally wither away if caught.
"The guys said they were going out," Jisung smirked, his fingers lacing through yours as he pulled you closer to him.
"How did you get out of this one?" You asked, playfully raising an eyebrow.
"Said I had more important things to do," Jisung replied, his arm wrapping around your waist.
"So I'm more important?" You couldn't help but tease him
Jisung smirked “Let me show you just how important you are”
Jisung closed the distance between you two, trapping you against the wall
The cool surface pressed against your back grounded you in the intensity of the moment. As his hands found their way to cradle your face, deepening the kiss
Your fingers tangled into his hair, eliciting a small moan from him. Taking advantage of his parted lips, you eagerly explored his mouth with your tongue
Not wanting to give up dominance, Jisung's hands roamed over your body, sending shivers down your spine as he stopped at your butt and gave it a playful squeeze
Lost in the moment, neither of you heard the door opening until a gasp filled the room.
Both of you tensed up and widened your eyes in realization...
"MY EYES!" Jaemin screamed in shock
Instead of pushing you away and hiding, Jisung hid his face into your neck and giggled
“I thought they would be gone”
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teaboot · 3 months
Note
If you could pick 2 to 5 current animals to make a hybrid, what would you pick?
I would do platypus for most of the body, raven for wings and intelligence, peacock for coloring, and pigs for the noises because pig snorts make me laugh.
Asks are supposed to be fun, if you don't want to answer or take a while to answer that is perfectly fine. ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
I have been thinking about this ALL DAY
My ideal animal to play God at making would HAVE TO BE:
Soft. Ideally pettable. Furry, but not like. Bristly or oily
Not stinky. Dogs always smell like foot, I'm sorry
Affectionate, but not clingy
Character-ful. Imperfect. TOO cute or sweet and we get into uncomfortable uncanny Valley territory.
Self-sufficient. Will it survive in it's natural habitat? Can it protect itself from stupid people? Needs some form of self-defense.
NOW, given these criteria I have chosen THESE CREACHURS :
MOLE
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Mole fur sticks directly up from its body to minimize friction when digging forwards OR backwards. With the fur of the mole, THIS CREACHUR is PETTABLE IN ALL DIRECTIONS.
2. CRESTED AUKLET
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For some godforsaken reason, the crested anklet is a bird which releases the smell of SWEET TANGERINES, a scent which I am personally fond of. THIS CREACHUR smells DELIGHTFUL.
3. DOMESTIC CAT
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THIS CREACHUR is AFFECTIONATE TOWARDS HUMANS, but not so much that it's constantly trying to crawl up your ass. IDEAL SOCIAL COMPANION
4. SILKY ANTEATER
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The silky anteater, like the platypus, is a SLIGHTLY FUCKED LITTLE GUY. Look at him. He's adorable, but not saccharine. He's approachable. Believable. Somewhat muppet-like. A real down-to-earth guy. An everyman sort of freak. A friend.
5. EMPEROR SCORPION
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One of the more chill scorpions, the Emperor Scorpion is MILDLY VENOMOUS. By which I mean, like. Bee sting-level. You probably won't let your toddler goof around with one, but you could still feasibly keep one as a pet. THIS CREACHUR is SECURE
TO CONCLUDE:
We are looking at an affectionate, roughly kitten-sized animal with a cat's temperament and the fur of a mole, which smells of citrus fruits, is shaped like a silky anteater, and is able to deliver a first-painful, then mostly-just-itchy sting when threatened. Artist's render pending
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stray-kaz · 6 months
Text
Buoyant : a Roronoa Zoro x f!reader oneshot
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Summary: Zoro finds himself unexpectedly falling for the young single mother Nami rescued, along with her little girl.
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The gentle rise and fall of the rolling sea stirred you to wake, inching over onto your side to search for your daughter. Your eyes, once sealed shut by sleep, flew open when you didn't feel her beside you, the once warm depression where her body had lain now cool and empty.
"Amada?"
You scrambled out of the bed and threw on clothes, hastily buttoning and shoving your already socked feet into your boots. You didn't think that any of the crew members of the ship would let anything happen to her, but your heart remained lodged high in your throat until your boots met the deck and you glimpsed an unforgettable sight.
Roronoa Zoro gripped a wooden sword, the second of the pair being grasped fiercely by a much smaller hand, jewel bright eyes fixed on the swordsman's face.
Your daughter's long dark hair was pulled back from her face in an untidy ponytail, undoubtedly the work of Zoro himself, fingers perfect wrapped around the hilt of a sword but clumsy with a little girl's hair. Especially a little girl who was looking up at him like he lassoed the sun just for her.
You sat down on one of the wooden stairs to watch, not saying a word or making a sound. You drew your knees up to rest your chin on them, staring intently as Zoro put your five year old through her paces, teaching her slowly how to step and parry and weave.
"Cute, huh?"
You glanced up at the sound of the familiar voice to see Nami standing above you.
"I didn't know he could be like this" you admitted quietly.
She snorted and dropped down next to you on the stairs.
"You'd be surprised."
"Did she ask him to show her?" you asked, curious.
Nami shook her head.
"No. Luffy dared her to see if she could take his sword without him noticing. He noticed."
You sucked in your breath, your gaze snapping back across the empty deck to your daughter, your heart walking around outside your body. Nami put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently.
"Don't worry" she said softly. "All he did was tell her that his was too sharp, too dangerous for her to play with, but if she wanted to learn, he could teach her."
Nami rolled her eyes as she continued.
"Zoro knows it was Luffy's idea, not Amada's. He'll look after her."
More footsteps and a plate of pastries was extended beneath your nose.
"Tangerine tart?" Sanji inquired casually. "Breakfast and a show, darling?"
You looked up at him and took one.
"Thanks."
"No problem."
He sat down a few steps behind you and it wasn't long before Usopp and Luffy joined him, drawn by the smell of fresh baking.
"How long do you think it'll be before he realises he has an audience?" Usopp murmured.
Not long, apparently. Before you could answer, Zoro turned and looked right at you, his unfathomable dark eyes fixed on yours. You didn't notice you were holding your breath until Amada tossed down her wooden sword and threw herself across the deck to you, cutting through the tension with a giddy laugh.
"Mama!" she crowed in your ear, making you wince. "Roro is teaching me how to sword fight!"
You held her tightly, meeting his eyes again over her head.
"Is he now?" you murmured, and kissed her cheek. "Are you listening carefully to everything he tells you?"
Amada nodded enthusiastically and bounced up to snatch a tart from the plate Sanji was holding out to her. You stood up and Zoro strode across the ship's deck towards you. You were standing in his way, but he just sidestepped you neatly and jogged up the steps, reaching down to ruffle Amada's ponytail as he went.
Something hot and bright burned in your chest and you followed him, still painfully aware of the collective gazes of Luffy and his crew all watching after you.
Zoro spun before you could get within touching distance of him, and you remembered Nami telling you how protective he was of his back. He raised his eyebrows at you.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked.
You arched an eyebrow back and held up the tart you still hadn't bitten into.
"You hungry after playing swords with my kid?" you retorted.
He shook his head, but you were standing close enough to see his pupils expand as you bit through the pastry to the filling, sweetness filling your mouth.
"I was not playing" he snapped.
"You cannot pretend you were not just playing with my daughter and ruffling her hair. There were witness, Roronoa."
Zoro snorted, fighting the shiver that rippled the length of his spine at the sound of his given name spilling over your lips.
"They are unreliable witnesses. You realise they're all basically certifiable?"
You swallowed and his gaze tracked the line of your throat.
"But I'm not" you said stubbornly.
Zoro sighed.
"I think salt's gotten in your eyes" he muttered flatly.
Your other eyebrow lifted.
"I think you've gotten in my eyes."
You watched his eyes widen a little before he tried to hide his surprise and play off cool, but the edge of his smile shattered the illusion and you bit back a shy grin before he shrugged his shoulders and turned his back on you.
You had just taken another bite when Nami snuck up next to you and elbowed you in the ribs. You yelped and eyed her.
"You like him!" she sang, smirking.
You felt heat rise in your cheeks and glanced away, chewing furiously. Usopp tore past you both and caught up to Zoro just before he disappeared in the direction of his room. He jabbed his elbow into his side, grinning profusely.
"You like her!" he crooned.
Zoro pinned him with a dark stare and shook his head.
"No. I don't" he said sternly. "You're all losing your damn minds. Not that you had much there to begin with."
He shoved away from Usopp, but he didn't get far before a streak of dark hair and patchwork clothes shot after him and launched onto his back. Zoro grunted, then hitched Amada higher to grip his shoulders properly so she wouldn't fall. She giggled and kissed him hard on the cheek before laying her head on his shoulder as he carried her deeper into the ship, ignoring Usopp's broad grin.
He was not going soft. He did not like you.
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The shoulders of the sea heaved and rocked under the Going Merry and black rain and salt lashed the window mere feet from your bed. A particularly hard jolt sent you gasping upright, clawing at the sheet. A glance to your right told you Amada was still sleeping soundly; a week's worth of lessons with Zoro left her exhausted by the close of each day and a hurricane wouldn't rouse her.
You slowly slipped from the bed and padded quietly across the floor, catching your balance against the wall and the door frame as the ocean continued to protest your presence above it.
Only a few lamps burned in the ship's halls, so you worked your way into the depths mostly in darkness, the shadows flickering all around you.
You barely recognised where you were headed, your half asleep mind refusing to cooperate, but the moment you laid eyes on Zoro's tightly closed door, you understood. He was a steady structure in the face of a storm, and a nightmare.
You didn't knock, just turned the handle and slipped inside, reclosing the door at your back. As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, you saw Zoro flat on his back in the middle of his bed, one arm down by his side and the other flung up covering his eyes. He was semi dressed as he slept, a light cotton shirt open to just above his navel. A white sheet covered the rest of him.
You shuffled over to the side of the bed and eased onto the mattress, biting your lip as it compressed a little under your weight. But Zoro didn't move, so you continued, crawling over him before slowly, so slowly, settling your body over his, your head tilted on his chest so you saw as one eye cracked open.
You expected him to shove you aside, to throw you out, but instead he just closed that eye and shifted his arms to wrap around you, locking you comfortably against him. You turned your head to press you ear flat against his chest, the steady thud of his heart acting as a lullaby.
It wasn't long before the storm and your nightmare disappeared into the recesses of your memory and you fell asleep.
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The heat of the morning sun woke you and you shook your head to clear it of the early brain fog, quickly realising you were not in your own bed and you were laying snugly on top of someone else. You opened your eyes properly and blinked at Zoro, who was already awake and watching you, waiting for you to regain consciousness.
"Hello, sleepyhead" he murmured, his voice throaty from sleep. "Nightmare?"
You nodded and tried to pull away, sit up, but he just rested his hand on the back of your head and stroked your hair, your eyes struggling to remain open with his touch.
"Don't like storms" you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes.
Zoro huffed a laugh and gave you an amused half smile.
"Really? And you live on a ship?"
You shrugged and nestled closer to him until the top of your head rested just underneath his chin.
"Nami rescued us" you reminded him. "I am grateful for that every day. A few storms are easy payment for feeling safe."
As if in response to your words, his free arm tightened around you again and he swallowed hard.
"Do you?" he asked quietly. "Feel safe here?"
You pushed up, shuffling to sit over his hips, and this time, he didn't stop you, just stared up at you, your hair falling forward to curtain your face. He reached to push it away, gathered it together in his fist, a makeshift ponytail.
"Yes, I feel safe here" you answered him softly. "I don't fear for Amada every day anymore. I know she has Luffy to protect her. She has you."
A faint flush bled into his cheeks and he blinked slowly, his eyelids suddenly heavy, but he didn't try to look away.
"I have you?"
The question was unsure on your tongue, bittersweet. But in spite of all his protestations to the contrary, Zoro hadn't even felt the crumbling earth beneath his feet before he fell for you. He did like you.
Zoro didn't give you a verbal answer. He just wrapped a hand around your nape and tugged you down, rising up to meet you halfway, his fingers branding your skin and his lips warm from sleep as they pressed against yours.
Your eyes fluttered closed and one of your hands found his jaw, holding it as if it were made of glass.
Zoro pulled back after several seconds and whispered into your skin.
"I'll chase away your nightmares any time, flower."
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Tagging: @writingmysanity @elizabeth-karenina
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definitionsfading · 1 year
Link
new fruit cocktail ficlet! 1,880 words of whump and bath time hurt/comfort. plus some bickering, because you can’t have two fruits in one room without some bristly banter. rated Mature, nothing saucy, but there are definitely some tender touches and intimate thoughts herein. 
The unspoken truth that he’s too weak to bathe himself properly stands in the room between them like a third silent body. Tangerine almost wishes his vocal cords were truly thrashed and ruined so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge it aloud, wouldn’t have to admit defeat before the battle ever began. 
He’s sitting beside the tub, awkwardly wedged between the toilet and the wall, head lolled off to rest on a towel folded under his cheek there on the edge of the bath. Breaths come shallowly, almost in haggard pants from the mix of nausea and exhaustion. Everything still smells like hospital antiseptic, blood, and electrical fire. It’s been three days since the train went off-rail—at least according to Lemon’s dodgy appraisal of time—and Tangerine still can’t burn the scent of near-death out of his nose.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 year
Note
Ooo hiya!! (I ranted a lot lol)🥰🍊💜
Can I please request a Tangerine x fem!civilian/innocent!reader where she was on the Bullet Train. She was walking to her seat, and when Kimura ran into the snack cart, he also ran into her, causing her to trip, falling onto Tangerine’s lap and him catching her (oh he would have a field day lol). Y/n being like 😳 as she realizes she’s been sitting on his lap for a good 10 seconds staring at him with wide eyes, her hands on his chest (once again, he’d have a field day lol, soo much flirting would ensue, he’d enjoy how flustered she’d get). Her stuttering, apologizing, and jumping up out of his arms and scurrying to her seat, which happens to be right across from Tan and Lemon’s.😂 He then spends the whole time on that train protecting (and flirting with) Y/n and when Lemon, Tangerine, and Y/n escape the train (Tan carrying a very scared Y/n), Y/n doesn’t want to leave Tan + they bring her to their safe house with them🥺
I love this.
Flustered
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This was the last situation that tangerine had been worried about while on any mission.
You had been walking, and a nice lady with a snack cart was behind you. But suddenly, you didn’t hear or see a man behind you. He pushed you aside.
“Oi! Watch where you’re goin’.” Another man said. Except the voice was much closer. You didn’t even realize you were in his lap until you looked and opened your eyes.
“S- sorry.” The other man apologized and quickly walked away.
“You alright, love?” The man asked, he had a hand on your back and tried to help you get up. You stared at his eyes, trying to find words.
“I- uh- I- yeah! I’m fine. Thanks uh, for catching me. Sorry, for the…” You laughed nervously after a little and quickly stood up.you looked around and sat back down at your seat. Which was right across from him and some other guy.
He smiled. He noticed that you seemed flustered, and decided to use it to his advantage.
“It’s quite alright, no worries, darling. I would say it’s more lucky to have a pretty girl fall into your lap, wouldn’t you think?”
Pretty? You thought. And Lemon scoffed at him.
“I- well- uh- thanks. Your also pretty.” You mentally winced as the words came out your mouth.
“You seriously trying to pick up a girl while on a job?” Lemon asked him quietly, quiet enough that you didn’t hear. You looked out the window and had your headphones in.
“I’m not. They just happen to fall in my lap.” He glanced at you.
“Wow, that was surprisingly clever.” Lemon rolled his eyes, And tangerine just sent him a scowl.
“Just sayin’, mate.” He laughed at his anger.
“Whatever. Can we get back on task?”
“Sure, sure, sure.”
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
After some talking between you and tangerine, he learned your name and you learned his. Yoh even learned that the guy next to him was his brother, Lemon. You both said your stops were Kyoto station.
Some man pointed a gun at Lemon, and another man sat next the both of them. That man died, and you were left confused and scared.
You decided to sleep it off, and getting off at the next station. Maybe you were dreaming, and you would wake up when you went to sleep in the dream.
(Let’s just say in this that Lemon, Ladybug, and Tangerine left early like Ladybug suggested)
“Hey. Wake up.” Someone shook you, and you looked confused, until you saw tangerine.
“Tangerine?” You muttered.
“Yeah, uh, we should get off. Like right now.”
“We’re there already?”
“Uh… yeah. So, c’mon, hurry.” He grabbed your hand and tan quickly, and the doors started to close but you guys luckily beat it.
“That was a close one, mate.” Lemon said.
“Aren’t you the same guy that pulled a gun on him?” You mumbled, and pointed to ladybug.
“Oh. Yeah. But we’re all good now.”
“So now what the fuck do we do?” You asked.
“I have a safehouse nearby.” Ladybug said.
“I’m sorry, who are you again?” You asked.
“I’m.. ladybug.”
“What’s with all the weird names? Lemon, tangerine and ladybug?”
“We’re contract killers. They’re just nicknames.” Lemon said plainly.
“What..? Seriously?”
“Not me. I just usually do snatch and grabs, Y’Know, steal things, but I’m covering someone.” Ladybug said.
“Why’d you take me out the train early?” You asked Tangerine as all of you walked to the house.
“Cause the rest of the train is full of murderous bastards that are all about to die. You seemed like the only trustworthy person on there.”
“Nah, he just wants to take you on a date.” Lemon said, laughing as his brother hit him in the arm.
“That too, I guess.” Tangerine said.
“Okay, so let me get this straight, first I somehow run into you because some guy ran into me and I fell in your lap, Ladybug pointed a gun at your brother and it’s all good now, some guy was dead next to you, you all are contract killers, and the train was full of murderers?”
“Yeah. Basically.”
“And now you wanna take me on a date.”
“Yeah.”
“Weird.. but Sure, why not.” You shrugged.
Sure, maybe you were going out with somewhat of a stranger, but it was a cute stranger, and he just saved you. You were glad you fell into his lap.
(I don’t like this that much but hopefully it’s not terrible)
3K notes · View notes
pretty-little-mind33 · 2 months
Text
Dress
Tangerine x fem!reader
Summary: Your best friends promised never to tell you about their dangerous job. However, all goes to shit when you find out another way.
Genre: Angsty fluff (happy ending)
Warnings: protective!Tangerine, home invasion, mentions of blood and injuries, swearing, sexual innuendo/implying sexual harassment (really not as bad as that sounds lol i would just rather put a warning)? murder, violence…
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Tangerine always knew you were too kind for the life he had chosen.
He wonders if he hadn't known you so long or if you weren't as much Lemon's best friend as his, then perhaps it would have been an easy decision to cut you out of their lives.
Only, the decision wasn't easy. It was selfish and it eats him up inside, but both him and Lemon had agreed they couldn't lose you. So, they'd made a deal that they wouldn't tell you the true nature of their job. That way, you would be safe. 
You, on the other hand, aren't as innocent as they think. You've known them long enough to know their expressions and whenever you mention their profession, they become eerily silent and tense. You've seen the blood under Lemon's fingernails and the bruises on Tangerine's knuckles when they visit you after one of their so-called "work trips".
However, after countless evasions on their part, you've stopped asking questions. Now, you stay content without knowing because you don't want to lose them either. 
One evening, you hear a knock on your apartment door and your smile widens. He's early. He's usually never early. You stand up from the couch, pulling up your fuzzy sock as you rush over the wooden floorboards to open the door for him. "Hi," you start but your throat locks when you're met with three burly men in black, threatening, masks. 
You don't have time to scream out as one of them presses his hand against your mouth and forces himself inside. The other two follow quickly and you stumble backwards. The man holding you presses his gun into your side and you whimper, tears falling down your cheeks as your mind races. 
Another man hands you what looks like a burner phone from his pocket and says, "Call him."
Your vision is blurred by your tears and when the man's hand leaves your mouth, you ask. "Who?"
"You know who, girl," the last man laughs and your chest tightens. Your hands are shaky when you type out Tangerine's number. You have an icky in your stomach telling you he hadn't been the one to ask you to hang out this evening.
Hesitantly, you hold the phone to your ear and whimper when the man with the gun pushes you over to your couch. He sits closer than necessary and teasingly moves the barrel against your cheeks and up into your hair.
"Hello?" Tangerine answers, his voice hoarse. Your heart leaps hearing him. It doesn't matter how mad he sounds because it's his voice. He'll make sure no one hurts you.
You turn to the men, as if asking them what you should say. All three of them smirk and the one holding you just shrugs.
"T-tan," you whisper, your hold tightening on the phone. Your voice comes out as shaky as your hands. You want to scream but as the seriousness of the situation sinks in, you can't make your mouth work properly. 
"Y/n? Is that you, love?" Tangerine sounds much more awake now, the annoyance in his tone completely gone. 
You're the only person who calls him Tan. 
"I-I don't know who — and I don't know what they want from me, but t-they have a gun," your word vomit tears a whimper from your throat and you hear curses and movement from the other side of the line. "And I'm so scared. Please, h-help me. I need you."
Suddenly, the phone is ripped from your hands and you let out a shriek of surprise and then another whimper when the gun is pressed to your temple to shut you up. The man chuckles darkly and his arm slides around you so you don't dare make another sound.
"Yes, yeah, we know—mmhmm, yes, we will be waiting with your little friend here," the man holding the phone grins at you, "She's a pretty one, ain't she? Such gorgeous eyes when they're all glossy with tears—" he chuckles, "well shove one up yours too. Don't fucking make us hurt her. You know what we want, bring us the money and she'll survive. Yeah, yeah." 
He grunts and throws the phone across the room, causing you to jump as the other man holding you presses the gun harder into your temple.
The man who was just on the phone pinches his nose and mutters, "Bloody fuck," he turns to you and points his index finger accusingly, "You're a lucky girl, you know. Because, if we didn't really need that money, you would have a bullet stuck in that fucking pretty head of yours for the way your boyfriend speaks to me."
You shiver, wincing. You can tell the man means it. "He's not my boyfriend," you whisper. 
"Whatever, darling," he rolls his eyes and leans forward to take your arm, "Just be a good girl for us and shut up."
* * *
Tangerine feels like he's living his worst nightmare. As soon as he heard your voice on the line, from a masked number, he couldn't think straight anymore. He's currently trying to unlock the drawer where he keeps his gun, fumbling as furious tears prickle in his eyes. 
He can't shake the sound of you crying out his name. He sees you, your skin bruised and bloody as tears stream down your cheeks and he wants to punch his fist through the drawer.
He should have protected you from this. He should have known. 
Lemon walks into his room, frowning when he sees how distressed his brother is. "Woah, mate, what's wrong?"
Tangerine finally thrusts the drawer open and shoves his gun in the back of his pants. He stands and runs a hand through his hair, rushing towards the door. His voice is strained when he says, "Someone has Y/n. They're hurting her." 
Lemon's entire face drops. "W-what? H-how?"
"I don't fuckin' know," Tangerine snaps, "Now, are you fuckin' coming or not?"
* * *
You shift your hand, the ropes burning against your wrists, as you sit on the ground of your bathroom. Blood trickles down your eyebrows from when one of the men hit you and slammed your head into the sink.
The gag they had used cuts painfully into the sides of your mouth. The men had used a pair of your panties they'd found in your dresser and bound the lace around your head, finding it hilarious. You didn't find it funny, the embarrassment still lingering as you sit in the darkness of the bathroom.
Suddenly, the faint laughter from the men in your living room stops and, after a moment, you hear loud crashes. You jump, squeezing your eyes shut as you listen intensely. You hear the slamming of doors until the bathroom door opens and you hear a familiar, "Fuck."
Your eyes snap open and Tangerine kneels in front of you. He quickly unties your panties from around your mouth, his eyes dark with anger and his eyebrows scrunch with worry. You whimper, embarrassed by him seeing you like this. He tosses your panties to the side, not commenting on them but fuming inside as he cups your cheeks gently and inspects your injuries. 
"Shit, does it hurt, love?" he asks, looking at the cut on your forehead and the bruises littered across your skin.
You train your eyes on his appearance. Sweat beads at his hair and splatters of fresh blood adorn his cheeks. It doesn't look like it's his considering he looks unharmed. Tangerine looks you over quickly. "I- did they touch you?" he asks hesitantly, insinuating something from the panties in your mouth and he is clearly a little nervous to know the answer. 
You shake your head and his eyes soften. "Oh, thank fuckin' god. I'm so sorry," he says and unties your hands, wasting no time scooping you up into his arms. You lean your head on his chest, still too shocked to form any words. Tangerine places his hand over your eyes as he walks into the living room and you hear shuffling and curses from what sounds like Lemon.
You turn to look but Tangerine keeps your head still and soothes you, "Shhh, you're okay, c'mon," 
Cold air hits you and you hear Tangerine open the door to his car. He places you inside and kisses your forehead. He kneels next to the car and his thumb touches near your cut, his eyes still dark with anger. "I have to check something with Lemon," he says again and his heart breaks when you grab his arm, 
"Please, don't l-leave me," you manage to ask, your voice hoarse.
Tangerine rests his hand on yours and tries to explain, "I won't be long, darlin'. I can't leave Lemon in there alone but we'll be quick. Trust me."
On any other day you would wait for a better time to bring this up, but your mind is still all fuzzy so you whisper, "Trust you? H-how can I trust you after what happened?" you see the hurt and guilt written on his face as the truth in your words sink in. 
Tangerine has never been good with strong emotions. He doesn't like them. They make him feel weak. You watch as his expression hardens and he looks into your eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/n," he says but mechanically closes the car door on you. You hear a lock and Tangerine disappears into your building again. All you can do is bury your face in your hands and cry.
Later, Tangerine is pacing his room. He hasn't changed out of his bloody clothes and he hasn't calmed down since they'd showed you to the guest room.
You'd asked to be alone and while that was understandable, he's worried sick. Lemon is sitting on his bed, which would usually annoy him because he'd made it that morning, but Tangerine couldn't care less about that right now.
"I basically slammed the door in her face! How could I have done that?" he's obviously panicking. 
"You had to come help me clean the scene. You did the only thing you could think of," Lemon tries to reasons, something he's been doing for the last twenty minutes.
"I- I shut her out. She probably hates me."
"Y/n could never hate you. She loves you."
Tangerine lets out a groan of frustration and turns to look at Lemon, his eyes round. "Don't you understand that's the fuckin' problem? I love her. I fuckin' love her and I've been lying to her all these years and now she's hurt because of it. It's all fucked, fuck, fuck, fuck."
Lemon stares at his brother with a deadpan look on his face. "I cannot believe you just admitted you love her."
"Pardon?"
"You're in love with her. It's been eating at you for years now. It's fucking obvious, I just didn't think you were this self-aware," Lemon rolls his eyes and stands up.
He walks over to Tangerine and crosses his arms. "Shit, mate, what are you even doing in here? Y/n was just attacked in her home and she doesn't understand why. She's probably scared shitless and tending to her wounds all alone —
After you disappeared in here like a baby I asked if she needed help and she said no, but you aren't the only one who is her best friend. I know her. She doesn't want to be alone, you idiot, she just didn't want me. She wants you." 
Tangerine feels like his heart has been beaten up to a pulp and he can barely breathe. He doesn't speak and he leaves his bedroom in a hurry.
As he walks to the guest room, he feels like he's in a daze. He knows he should but he doesn't knock on the door when he rushes in. He finds you sitting on the ground, dressed in one of his shirts he must have left in the guest room by accident, applying some alcohol to the wound on your head.
Your tears have dried but when you look at him, he sees how bloodshot your eyes are and he wants to kill those men all over again.
He doesn't speak as he crouches down and pulls you into a hug. He wraps his arms around your body and holds you tightly. He hears your small sigh as you wrap your arms around his torso. Tangerine doesn't care when you unconsciously climb into his lap and hug him closer. He nuzzles his head in your neck and kisses your exposed shoulder. He's never given you this type of intimacy and while his head is screaming at him to run from you, his heart won't let him. 
"It was so scary," you whimper against him. 
He cups your head with his hand as he soothes you, "I know, darlin', I know it was. I promise you're safe now. I'm here. 'm not leaving you, doll. I'm so sorry this happened," he pulls away and caresses his large hands down your face, brushing some hair from your eyes. 
"Why'd you open the door, darlin'? You'know you can't open the door to strangers, mm?"
He isn't blaming you, he just wants to know. 
You avoid his eyes. "I thought it was you."
Tangerine frowns.
"I think they somehow sent me a text from your phone and it said you wanted to come over and I-I said yes," you feel your cheeks burn and Tangerine anger bubbles. They'd used him to hurt you. He leans his forehead on yours as you continue. "I did think it was a little weird, but I—"
Tangerine wipes at your new tears with his thumb, interrupting you, "It's okay. You couldn't have known. I'm so sorry."
"I should have known," you whisper.
"No," he shakes his head, pressing his lips to your forehead. "I should have prepared you for something like this. Lemon and I should have warned you."
You lean your head on his chest again, your breathing harsh. "I knew your job was dangerous, but I didn't think you were killing people," you whisper and you feel Tangerine tense. He rubs his hand up and down your back. 
"I-" he doesn't know what he can say to you. 
You pull away and look into his eyes, "I don't want to know," you say, "not today. Not now. You can tell me later but now I want you to hold me and tell me it'll be okay." Tangerine nods, you sound a little in shock, but your voice is serious. 
"And I want you to kiss me."
Your words almost knock Tangerine out.
"Fucking pardon?" he says, instantly regretting cursing.
You move to hold his cheeks in your hands, leaning in closer. You wait for him to make the first move, your heart beating as quickly as his is.
You don't care about his job, or that he'd lied to you, and you know he's probably not an honorable man like you'd wished him to be, but none of that matters because you need to feel his lips on yours.
You need to know he's here.
Tangerine closes his eyes and kisses you. His entire body feels like it's on fire and if he thinks too hard, he might combust into ashes. His hands find your waist and his head tilts so he can kiss you better.
Fuck this. He's so in love with you.
You kiss him back with more passion and he almost loses his mind. If he had lost you today he would have burned the entire world to make those men pay. Killing them would have never been enough.
You pull away, tears streaming down your cheeks. You look into Tangerine's blue eyes. You want to tell him you love him. You're in love with him. However, no words can leave your lips.
Tangerine sees your expression and wipes his thumb under your eye. He stands and pulls you up with him as he whispers, "Shh, you don't need to talk. You need sleep."
He looks at your wound again, making sure it's clean and then cups your cheeks and tilts them upwards so he has your attention. "Lemon and I are just around the hall, okay? I- I lo-," his sentence dies and he starts a new one, "I lo-oked over your injury and it shouldn't hurt that much anymore but if it does, you know where my room is."
Tangerine leans down and presses one last kiss to your lips. He pulls away and says, "You're safe now, my darlin'. Okay? Nothing will ever happen to you again. I promise."
He says it with such security, you nod again. Your lips tingle from his and you savor the moment, wrapping your arms around him. Tangerine is surprised but he kisses your head and whispers just quietly enough for you to miss it, 
"I love you," 
And for the first time in his life, those three words don't stay clogged in his throat. Tangerine's shoulders relax and he sighs. One day soon he'll be able to say them loud enough that you hear him. And, hopefully, you'll say them back.
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bombombooty · 3 months
Text
lazy days with the strawhat pirates :)
the days on the sea aren't always full of action, and that's okay! in that moment, it's nice to take the time for yourself... and with your favorite strawhat!
chrs: Monster Trio, Nami, Robin, Usopp
cw: none, just fluff
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
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Monkey D. Luffy
and even if it may not be as much of a "lazy day" with the eccentric captain, it most certainly is still an enjoyable one. He who can't completely stay still finds fun in irritating others into hanging out or in his terms, "not being boring"- he says this all with a pout as he waddles around whining to his fellow shipmates
yet if it were truly a lazy day, and the rubber man succumbed to the rays of the afternoon sun, he finds his own enjoyment in stretching his arms all the way around you, gluing himself on and vowing to never let go (he doesn't let you go anywhere without him touching you)
develops a mischievous nature in the sight of the fridge, or what sanji swore to protect from the "hungry beast", but then eventually ends up stealing food after what feels like countless tries
you, always being by his side on these days means sharing food. even if he seems like the person not to, you are a clear exception to him. Whether it be a bite, a chunk, he will give to his favorite person in the world; right after, he drowns you in infinite kisses with that signature grin of his
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Roronoa Zoro
the swordsman is always tight-up, never letting his guard down, never letting anyone step all over him and his manly pride. However, that all disappears on a quiet afternoon when you pick up the sound of a certain green-haired man snoring incredibly loud
despite his restful sleep, it won't stop him from grabbing you and holding you tight as if it were a simple habit of his. He snakes his strong arms around you, not letting go until he opens his eyes cluelessly to you in his arms
in mention of that manly pride of his, he trusts you to watch in the distance as he lifts those large dumbbells of his; he finds his confidence raised to the roof when you're there
the poor man, dense as always. the crew always takes the time on moments like this to tease him about the lack of romance he brings to the table. Furious, he simply gives a large frown after protesting that he's a great lover
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Vinsmoke Sanji
and if every single day doesn't stop him from spoiling you with his passionate love, these calms day only fuel him more. It's a skill the chef possesses, finding himself to be quite the "professional" in his vernacular
the times he's not in the kitchen, he spends it with you. Looking out into the vast, blue, and majestic sea, he dreams of seeing it all with you- tracing patterns on the back of your hand and a kiss on the forehead, as he rests his head on the crevice of your neck
his romantic tactics comes into the light as he simply asks you to help him in the kitchen. It was just the two of you, sharing a moment together. He, of course, cannot help but flirt with his beautiful lover- in which it then becomes an ever so lovely kitchen date that lasts for hours
sometimes, when the strawhats could still be fast asleep, the blonde-haired man takes the chance to spread a blanket on the grassy floors and have a picnic (along with an occasional addition of the little reindeer, Chopper) with you. With smooth words like silk, it is almost as if he serenades you. It doesn't take long for you to utter a word of love to him, and his face is a flustering red
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Nami
• although the ship itself may be at peace, she still finds herself preferring an intimate, private spot to be with you. In the presence of just the two of you and her endless charts and maps, she'll pepper you with kisses and physical attention. She likes to bug you about her wardrobe, and sometimes, if you're lucky, the tangerine-colored hair woman rambles about all the things she'd like to wear, and their prices; you never see the end of it
• she could be busy logging away things, charting maps, and so on. But sometimes of the ship were too quiet, nami wishes for you to stay by her side silently so she feels more at ease. Don't mention it though, or else she'll kick you out
• with the help of sanji, she'll feed you and herself some of those precious tangerines and numerous drinks he sends down for the two of you to enjoy. Silently, she enjoys seeing the pleasant face you make when you take a bit of the tangerine or a sip of the drink, as she wraps you into a tender embrace that only happens once in a blue moon
• if the morning dawns or the sun falls, she'll gladly encourage you to do a skin routine with her, just so you two can talk endlessly about the infinite random topics that string to no where. As long as you're there, she always feels at home
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Nico Robin
• before you know it, she'll have you swayed into the thin sheets of spread out blankets with a book open, the only thing lit in the room being a simple few candles, and maybe a few rose petals. Slowly, she grazes her one of two hands against your hair, the other holding you close to her as you may also have a book- or perhaps not
• she simply wishes to listen to you speak, her undivided attention on you and your kissable face. You may not know what she's thinking, but as the waves collapse onto the Sunny, and the sun shines on the two of you, it's not hard to know that she's ready to press her lips gently onto yours at anytime
• she'll do anything you wish, just as long as she's there to watch- her quiet nature didn't mean she hated it, but she just loved when you do it. Everything about you drove her in a unique way of crazy, and the long-haired woman never wished to let go of it
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Usopp
• believe it or not, the sniper was more of an active man. He'll be constructing a new device of his, or playing card games- something to keep him busy. Yet while he's busy he rambles to you, word by word as he makes up all these stories. One of them, being about a certain person in his life that was like an angel sent to him from Skypiea
• he likes to show you, and his little crowd (consisting of luffy and chopper) obvious magic tricks easy enough to amuse the lot of you in an instant, a hearty laugh coming from the curly haired man. His unwavering pride only bigger with you there
• he can be a crazy amount of shy in ratio to his cockiness when it comes to showing you some physical love. But in purpose of showing his love to you, when the sun is low and just the two of you stand on the deck, he'll gladly wrap his arms around you, kissing you in this slightly clumsy, but affectionate way in that unique way of his
(( _ _ ))..zzzZZ
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munsonsbtch · 4 months
Text
sympathy for the devil - e.m.
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demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)
i found god, i found him in a lover…
when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…
i found the devil, i found him in a lover…
and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…
warnings: 18+ ONLY! MDNI!! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything fully italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas
i just want to give a huge fucking thank you to my girl @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me out so much with this fic. i couldn’t have done it without your help. and another thank you to @onegirlmanytales for the title, absolutely genius idea to use a title of a supernatural episode 💞
word count: 2.4k
divider credit: @firefly-graphics
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You knew he was here.
You could smell the sulfur lingering in the air, feel the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too good, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray. But maybe he wanted you to find him. This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the warehouse made your heart skip a beat.
“Nice to see you again sweetheart…”
You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutched your bottle of holy water closer to your side, hearing his chuckle echo throughout the empty room.
“You’ve tried that before… didn’t work so well the last time did it?”
He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your skin broke out with goosebumps. You squared your shoulders, as he finally stepped out into the moonlight. The sight made you freeze, eyes widening in shock. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him. He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you. His name was Eddie Munson, you had met him at a shitty run down bar called the Hideout after finishing a hunt somewhere in Indiana.
He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things that no one else had ever managed to. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were now a stark onyx, Eddie was now long gone. The demon in front of you smirked, eyes watching you closely as the recognition crossed your features.
This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night. But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t have to have consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected from it was due to the dark ink swirling on your hip. Kas took a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen, a chuckle slipping past his lips.
Ones that had been on you too many times to count.
“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted to ask you to stay with him so many times.”
Your heart stutters in your chest at the thought, now knowing you could never have that. Not with him, or anyone. You knew how malicious the demon in front of you was… Eddie wasn’t going to return to a normal life. Kas continues to advance on you slowly, backing you further into a corner. Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, letting the demon continue to close in. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew it was true. You had started falling for the metalhead, and now you’d never get him back.
“Don’t worry sweetness, he’s still here with me.”
You felt your back hit the cool concrete, the male caging you in against it. His body felt warm against yours, his familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfing your senses. Your mind is instantly brought back to the last time you saw each other, limps tangled together as you laid in a post sex haze. From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving some memory of Eddie’s. His calloused fingers trail down the skin of your neck, your mind screaming at you to push him away. But how your body reacts to his familiar touch betrays you. Kas notices how your skin heats under his touch, wetness pooling between your thighs.
“Don’t touch me.”
You want the words to hold so much more malice than they do, another dark chuckle spilling past his plump lips. The demon is leaning further into your space, those familiar lips grazing the skin of your collarbone causing you to shiver. Kas leaves hot open mouthed kisses on your skin, feeling terrified and angry but aroused at the same time. It was making your head spin.
“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I can see the way your body reacts to this vessel. I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.”
Kas nearly growls, his teeth nipping your skin causing you to whimper slightly. You attempt to push him away, but he has the upper hand now, fingers lacing through your hair and pulling to expose more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up to the shell of your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.
“I can feel just how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to you as well… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”
Your eyes widen in shock as Kas presses his hips into you, feeling how hard he was through his jeans.
Get the fuck off her asshole she’s mine!
Kas chuckles again, pulling back as he continues to let his hands wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.
“Ooohh your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me sweetness, he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him. Isn’t he selfish, pet?”
I’m warning you dickhead.
“Fuck you.”
That spark of defiance comes back, making the demon only grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, feeling the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.
“Hmm, with pleasure darling.”
His lips are hovering over yours, his sweet breath fanning across your face. There’s a moment those black hues slowly fade, the chocolate of Eddie’s now returning. Seeing that flicker of him, the man you desperately had fallen in love with is what breaks you, smashing your lips against his angrily. He moans into your mouth, hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Pinning you further into the wall, pressing his hips harshly into yours. At this point you don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t seem to find it in yourself to care.
The kiss is angry, only harsh lips and teeth clashing together viciously. There’s still a part of you that’s screaming at you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over, those screams getting quieter with each press of his lips against yours. His tongue licks your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming to your plush ass and squeezing. The action surprises you, a small gasp allowing him to slip his tongue inside. Kas groans, sucking your tongue into his mouth as he sets you back on your feet. Pinning your hips against the wall as he buries his face in between your thighs.
“I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”
His hands began frantically unbuttoning your jeans, yanking them and your panties down your legs. Tossing them somewhere in the dark warehouse. The brunette doesn’t take a moment before his tongue is licking a stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers immediately thread through his dark curls yanking harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your pussy, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that had your legs trembling in his grasp.
“Hmm, even better than his memories…”
The demon eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers, the muscle moving up to dance around your clit. Your head feels fuzzy, his actions already bringing you closer to the edge. Feeling your walls clench around his fingers he only increases his motions. The almost inhuman speed and pressure of his tongue breaks you, your moans echoing throughout the empty warehouse. He doesn’t let his lips leave you for long though, trailing them down your thighs and smearing your slick all over your legs.
You groan, before dropping to your knees and pushing him back. Kas is startled by your actions, but lets you lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had neverever seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, lifting his hips to aid you in removing his pants and boxers in one quick motion.
“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so sweetheart.”
Mine, not yours…
Your eyes flick up to his, the smirk on his lips only fueling your irritation further.
“Shut the fuck up Kas.”
You say between gritted teeth, grabbing his hard cock out from his boxers as the male stifled a moan.
Fuck, that’s my girl…
You don’t give either of you much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times Eddie had fucked you, you still were in awe of just how well he stretched you out. Feeling every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could. It was a heaven you never wanted to leave. The male grips your hips tightly, helping to rock you against him. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching where your bodies are connecting with almost fascination. A creamy ring forming around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him, your nails digging into his chest.
She really is an angel…
The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace, flipping you both over and nearly knocking the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight as he begins slamming into your cervix. Your back arches off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up with the action. The sounds of your bodies connecting echoing throughout the empty warehouse. The brunette’s eyes begin raking over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His fingers trace over the ink on your hip with a smirk, slamming his hips even harder into yours.
“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body. Not from me. Or him.”
You don’t answer him, grabbing him by the hair and clashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as angrily, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. It only seems to turn you on more, as he sucks your lip into his mouth. Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you even closer together. A gasp escaping your bloody lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, making your eyes roll back. The demon groans feeling you pulse around his cock, lips trailing down your jaw. A mixture of his salvia and your own blood smearing across your skin.
“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you…”
Kas moans so quietly you almost don’t catch it, a small smirk gracing your features. But it’s wiped away just as quickly, his hips driving into yours even faster. Any snarky comment thrown out the window as you cry out loudly, dragging your nails down his clothed back. You can feel your orgasm getting closer with each powerful stroke of his cock. His lips are sucking onto the skin of your neck, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.
“That’s it angel… it’s okay. I’m here.”
Your eyes that had fluttered closed now snap open, coaxing the male from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas. Your eyes meet his chocolate ones, as his hips slow their pace. The dimple in his cheek making an appearance as he smiles down at you, tears beginning to fill your vision. He leans down, gently kissing away the tears that are staining your cheeks. Eddie takes you fully in his arms, sitting you up in his lap. The new position only brings him deeper inside you, whimpering as you lean your forehead against his.
“Eddie…”
You moan, grinding yourself down harder onto his cock as he holds you tightly. His touch is softer, caressing every inch of you that he can while he still has the time to. Before he’s ripped away from you once more. Between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.
“I’ve got you angel… come for me.”
His fingers encircle your sensitive nub, giving you one more hard thrust before you finally break. A silent screaming ripping itself from your lungs as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body trembling in his arms, Eddie pulling you even closer against him.
“Fuck… I love you. I love you.”
In your hazy state you don’t notice the black now overtaking his eyes, his words continuing to ring in your ears as you feel him spill himself inside you. Fucking his cum deeper into you, your head falling into the crook of his neck. You mumble those three words back into his skin, letting his scent wash over you as you attempt to catch your breath.
“Well wasn’t that just so sweet…”
You stiffen in his embrace, his dark chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in. You quickly scramble to detangle yourself from him, his touch almost burning you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs, hurrying to find your discarded clothes in the dark. In your now frenzied state of mind you don’t hear him until he’s right behind you. His hands gripping your hips as you bent down to grab your jeans. His hips press themselves flush against your ass, his hand dipping between your thighs to collect some of the mess you both just made. Kas eagerly sucks the digit into his mouth with a moan, before you feel his warmth disappear.
“We’ll be seeing you soon sweetheart… you can count on that.”
Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.
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