#WHEWWWW Y'ALL THIS ONE .....

[kithtaehyung]

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

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

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

-

-

There’s no way.

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

“No fuckin’ way.”

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

“Were they always on this team?” 

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

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

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 

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

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

“Play.” 

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

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

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

“And you’re paying me double.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry, love.” 

You stare.

“This will be over soon.” 

-

-

The game is… just a game. For now.

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

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

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

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

That was close. Way too close. 

Get it together. 

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

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

However. 

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

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

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 

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

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

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

“I need you all to calm down.” 

“No can do, coach.” 

“Not if they aren’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you don’t like it one bit. 

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

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 

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

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

“What?” 

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

“After what he did to you?” 

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

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

“I can’t let that shit go.” 

“Yoongi.” 

“Sorry, doll.” 

“Please just—” 

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

Only for him to be just out of reach. 

-

-

After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 

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

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

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

-

-

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

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

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

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

It’s making you wonder if… 

Nah. 

That’s still too big a reach. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure? That looked…”

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

Motherfucker. 

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

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 

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

“Mm.”

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

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

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

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

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

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

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 

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

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

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

Weird. 

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

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

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

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

“You’re whipped.” 

“No, you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake. 

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud. 

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

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

“No! What the fuck—” 

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

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

“Babe, we have to go now.” 

“No, let me go!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do what!”

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

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

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

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

“Stop and just think for a second—”

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

“Dumb as fuck!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 

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

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

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 

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

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

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

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

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

But hope may be a bitch. 

So you don’t. 

-

-

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

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

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

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

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

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 

Oh. 

“Your brother’s here, too.” 

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

“Umm.. Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

“He was gonna—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck that.” 

“Huh?” 

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

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

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

And you mean that. 

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

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

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 

-

-

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

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

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

-

-

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

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

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

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

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I will.”

“I’m serious.” 

“I will.”

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

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

So you leave to go pack without another word. 

It’s raining. 

Hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes burn. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

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

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

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 

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

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 

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

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

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

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

Finally. “Hello.” 

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

“You’re here?” 

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

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

“Not tonight.”

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

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

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

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

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

“No.”

“Go home.” 

“No!” 

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“…No.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 

Shards. 

Pieces.

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

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

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

No, no, no. Get rid of it. 

Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 

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

What did he do, what did he do?

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

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

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

Shit, this is everywhere. 

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

“Stop.”

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

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts. 

This really, really hurts. 

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

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

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

“I got it.” 

“Let me do it.” 

“Your brother needs you.”

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

It hurts.

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

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

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

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

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

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

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

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

One more. Two more. Another one here.

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

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

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

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

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

“I still need to—” 

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

“Do what? I’m helping you.” 

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

But ice. 

“Who said I needed it?” 

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

“You think I’m joking?” 

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

“I say a lot of things.”��

…Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

“Not tonight what.” 

“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 

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

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

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

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

“I am.” 

“Wow.” 

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

“Do you even know?” 

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

“That’s cus—” 

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

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

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

Fine then. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who asked you?” 

Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 

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

“That’s what I said.” 

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

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

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

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

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

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

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

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

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

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

“Whoa, hold u—” 

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

“Just listen—” 

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

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

“I swear to—” 

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

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 

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

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

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 

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

“He’s still home.” 

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

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

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

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

Your eyes are ice. 

“Are you.” 

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

And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 

“Goddamn it.” 

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

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

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

“Stubborn.” 

“Coward.” 

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

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

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

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

“Make me.”

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

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

This is liberation. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fuck.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t make me do shit—”

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

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

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

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

And it’s maddening. “Please!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that?” 

“I said fuck you!” 

“Thought so.” 

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

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

“Fuck—!” 

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

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

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

“Asshole—” 

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

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 

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

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

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

“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Fuckin’ thought so.” 

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

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

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

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 

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

“What, doll.” 

“Please!” 

“Nah.” 

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

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

Every. Single. Time. 

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

“Please!” 

“Mm. Not loud enough.” 

“Yoongi, please.” 

“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 

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

“Do it yourself then.” 

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

And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 

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

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

“Nah.” 

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

“You’ll come when I say you can.” 

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?” 

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

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

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

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

“Then fucking come.” 

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

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

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

“I said again.” 

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

“Yoongi—” 

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

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

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

“Baby.” 

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

“Babe.” 

“I—I—” 

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

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

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

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

“There you go. Keep going.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“Babe.” 

“You told me so many times—” 

“Breathe, angel.” 

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

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

“Like what?” 

“Just… Like this.” 

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

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 

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

“I’m here.” 

“So please don’t push me away.” 

“I won’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm?” 

“Shower.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine.” 

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

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

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Promise.” 

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

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

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

“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 

“Nope.” 

“I wore the outfit that day.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“And lost my friends at the club.” 

“No.” 

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

“How about we share it.” 

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

“Okay.” 

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

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 

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

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

“Duh.” 

He’s himself again. 

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

That’s all you both need to feel peace. 

-

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scroll, scroll. 

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

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

Scroll, scroll. 

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

“I love you.” 

Time bursts.

Your chest glows. 

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

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

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

His eyes. 

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

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

“I love you, doll.”

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

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

No. 

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

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

What?

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

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

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

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

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

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

He loves you. 

Fuck, he loves you? 

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

He loves you.

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

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

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

“Yoongi, I—”

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

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

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

“It’s not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Knew what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want what you want, doll.” 

“Then it’s okay.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fucking shit.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Fuck.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

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

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

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

“What—”

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

Again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Taking me so well like this.” 

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

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

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

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

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

“Uh uh.” 

“Please—please—” 

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

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

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

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A secret?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

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

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

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

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

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 

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

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

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

All of you.

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

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

Every single stop.

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

Swelling, you already feel close. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

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

Yoongi only grins. 

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

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

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 

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

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

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

“I know.” 

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time.” 

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

“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 

When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 

Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 

“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 

Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”

If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”

You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 

Never close enough.

His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.

“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”

It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 

When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”

“Then… Those three months…”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 

Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 

“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”

Oh. That’s news to you. 

“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 

“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”

Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”

“What if he does?”

You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”

Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 

“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 

Oh. Wait. “What?” 

Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”

Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 

Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 

“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 

And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 

Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 

Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”

It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”

Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”

“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 

“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 

“Huh? When?”

“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 

The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 

He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 

“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 

“You love it.” 

“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 

“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 

“Guess what.” 

Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 

But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 

Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 

Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 

As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 

At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 

Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 

When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 

“I can!” 

Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 

His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 

This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 

And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 

Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”

After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”

You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 

Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”

Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 

…What?

No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—

“I wanna do this the right way.” 

Oh. 

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 

Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 

When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 

Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…

Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 

When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.” 

-

-

tbc. :)

-

so... how did it go! | join the server!

a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[multifandomslxt]

Kink speckal

Changbin - skz

Doyoung - NCT

WOOZI - SVT

Girl I ran here. I hope I did it right

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content below...

Three tickets for the Kink Special

Changbin - Stray Kids (skz)

A Dom-leaning switch- Depends on his partner.

Size Kink- Now let's not lie to ourselves, we know this man isn't the tallest. so we can cross out the height difference as a huge motivator for this. Instead, I'm talking muscle-wise. He fucking knows he could manhandle the fuck outta you. Whether, fat, chubby, slim, or thick honey he'll fuck your life up and you'll love it. His thick muscular arm wrapped around your pretty little neck. Don't even get me started on how he loses it over the difference of your thighs compared to his.

Erotic Asphyxiation/Breath play- This ties in with his obsession with Chocking his partner and having his partner sit on his face so he can eat them out (let's not debate on that because we know it's true). Something about not being able to breathe while he brings you to a climax is enough to make him cum. You can hear him groaning as he begins to fight for breath but he doesn't let up cuz he knows he can last a little longer. Until he's light-headed and dazed. Be warned though this isn't something he'd want earlier in the relationship because breath play is dangerous if not done properly.

Edging/Orgasm Control- he loves to edge and he loves to be edged. The way your body jolts and your eyes widen as you're denied another orgasm does nothing to help his erection but that won't stop him from laughing at you and calling you every derogatory name in the book. Him on the other hand, he'll never admit it but he loves being edged because it makes the actual orgasm more intense and baby his whimpers are to die for. His begging, his cute little jolts as you deny him another one whewwww.

Doyoung- NCT

Dominant- He prefers it that way.

Sadism- oh yeah. Look at his face, that's the face of a sadist honey. He fucks with your head until you cry. and then fucks with you some more. Love the physical aspect of sadism too but he's strict on it. Yeah, it's gotta hurt but not to the point where you don't find pleasure in it at all. In short, he plays it safe with the physical aspect, as safe as can be that is. Nipple clamps, labia/lip clamps, wax, floggers, etc. Even if he doesn't have them on him he'll get creative.

Degradation and Praise- He mixes the two. Believe it or not, he thinks just saying one is either too nice or too mean (Ironic because he is a sadist). His interests often conflict with each other but that's because with him you never know exactly what you're going to get that day. However, here's a tip if he degrades before he praises - "My Slutty Princess"-it's rough but if he praises before he degrades- " My Pretty little slut"- it's not quite vanilla but it's as calm as could be. Note though I wrote "My" for both... if there is ever a situation where he doesn't say "My" ensure that you have medication for migraines because he's going to make you cry until you get one.

Sensory Deprivation- Specifically, Blindfolding. He enjoys doing it to his partner but he enjoys it more when it's done to him. Not seeing increases his hearing and feeling. Hearing the pretty moans that level your mouth as he continues his thrusts and memorizes your body over and over with his fingertips. He can feel with his entire being the way your walls clench around him and he has goosebumps all over r his body. Note, this is reserved for when y'all are about to finish a session though because he cums fast like this.

Woozi- SEVENTEEN (SVT)

Dominant- Argue with a wall.

Consensual S*mnophilia- He always comes home late from the studio. When he does, You're already asleep and so he just takes this time to fuck you senseless while you sleep. Simple as that, He's a simple man. There are rare times he will wake you mostly because he loves being able to position your sleeping body however he likes.

Consensual Voyeurism- I guarantee you he doesn't even know that his actions have a name. Spies on you when you're in the shower and jerks off to it. Records a good number of your sessions and then jerks off to the video. Makes you play with yourself so he can jerk off in front of you. When you play with yourself in front of him he tells you what to do so he can push your limits. Dildos and vibrators galore. It makes the entire act more intense and he livessssss for that.

Breath play- 100%. He uses his hands to cover his partner's nose and mouth. He's not a fan of choking because he knows he can get carried away. He does it while he's being rough just so it can be a little more maddening. That huge gasp for air you take when he lifts his hands simply encourages him to do it again. he definitely does it when you're about to cum. Kinda like sensory deprivation but instead of the senses, it's your breathing. Either way, it makes your orgasm last longer and makes it more intense.

Hope you enjoyed this slxtty ride!

Do cum again<3

[sageistrii]

the rapline take you just made whewwww..very bold if you ask me to be saying all of that while stanning ggs that bring nothing to the table and other artists that ALL have writers on credits but are also praised for being good producers and writers nonetheless because thats normal and even if all these cases including bts you would never know the exact percentage of involvment and for all you know the tracks that namjoon talks about are ideas and part that he came up with for the biggest part...but somehow other ppl on a song credits its something you use as a drag against rapline? also you're clearly missing out on actually ready many bts songs lyrics from rapline and their verses that they wrote themselves cause wooow the way you're talking...

I dragged them for having other people on their song credits? Wouldn't that be a stupid thing to do considering Jimin had credits from other people on his album?

Or did you just ignore the whole context of everything I said and decided to get mad at the credits thing only?. But I do understand why you would get mad because that is the only thing they have over vocal line, and most other idols really because if you take away those song credits most girls in Kpop actually bring more to the table than those three (y'know...since you wanted to go there).

I find your ask funny though because, first I actually do think Yoongi and Namjoon are the best rappers in Kpop and I have defended and praised their contribution to BTS multiple times (if you're new here or maybe you aren't even supposed to be here just say that because if you kept up with my posts on sagemariner you would know that.) Secondly you ignored the part where I called them one trick ponies and you're mad about the credits portion?, everything I said was said in relation to armys and their shadiness towards vocal line, not that I think it's shameful to have others on the credits.

Also I get the feeling you're a pjm who has some love for rapline and that's why you're mad because I notice that some of y'all do this thing where you like following accounts and eat up the drags against members like Tae and jk but go ballistic whenever they do the same to rapline especially Namjoon and Hobi. I care about Jimin, whatever bias you feel towards some of them has nothing to do with me and it's wild that i have to say this when I myself have also defended other members of BTS from pjms, but the thing is I defend them by giving my opinion about why I don't agree with their takes about the members, because that's what we do here, not whatever you just did talking about some "whewww... That's a bold take" and trying to bring in the girlgroups I "Stan" (Stan is used loosely by the way because I've said several times that BTS is the only Kpop group I actively Stan) when they have nothing to do with this. Every BTS member gets whacked here, your bias list has nothing to do with me.

[littleholmes]

got a bunch done today including upgrading my phone and y'all.....

so I learned a few days ago that it was time (if I wanted to) for an upgrade through my phone plan, I said heck yeah bc it's been a minute since I've done it. everything was good except when I plugged my phone in and started to restore this new phone with my old phone's backup and kept encountering pw error issues despite using each one I had saved for backups. finally figured it out and my phone's currently restoring so I don't have to start it like it's a new iphone but whewwww that was a spike in anxiety and a dip in despair that I didn't need today

[xplrerdolan]

I mean since u asked👀what abt if you acted out in public and the twins were mad and so at home u get a punishment and it’s just a bunch of them teasing and denying u😗I’m sorry I’m horny😔

ofc the first thing i write on this account for the twins (obviously excluding hate fuck, that was written before) WOULD be a threesome 😭 never apologize for being horny, anon. i am ALWAYS horny. also this is the second thing in a row that i’m writing about edging 🥴 i see we’re in the mood for that

WARNINGS: smut, rough sex, edging, teasing, overstimulation, slight bondage, degradation kink [including derogatory language] , threesome (MMF), aftercare & slight fluff at the end

—

It was petty. You knew it was petty, but honestly, you didn’t care. Petty, childish, immature—you’d readily plea guilty as charged.

In your defense, they were practically asking for it to happen. I mean, did they really expect you to act like a loyal, good girl to them when they continue to claim they’re single and can do what they want? If that was the case, so could you. And you decided to do exactly that. Right in front of them. In front of a lot of people, actually.

There were several men in the audience cheering you on as you seductively twirled around the column supporting the spandrels around the bar, though they were not among them. While they weren’t cheering, you could practically hear them seething with rage. But what did you care? If they didn’t want to at least be exclusive with you, they had no right to complain about your behavior.

They especially shouldn’t be upset when you grabbed the most attractive guy you see—besides them, of course—and pulled him on top of the bar with you. Because, you’re single, and you can do whatever you want. So, being single and free to do whatever you want, you turned so your back was to his front and danced on him.

Okay, let’s not sugarcoat. You were practically fucking this guy, merely separated by clothes. A full-on dry hump in front of an entire nightclub’s worth of sleazy men. You continued to perform for their pleasure, feeding into the catcalls and vile behavior just to go the extra mile of proving just how single and able to do whatever you want you were.

With your point amply proven, you removed the stranger’s hands from around you and jumped off the bar top into the sea of men fantasizing about you. You ignored them all, happy with the example you’d made out of them, and didn’t even spare a glance in the direction of the two massive men who were likely to be shaking with rage. Instead, you walked out of the nightclub with your head high and more arrogance than they both had combined.

You walked to a lamppost a few feet away from the exit, leaning against it nonchalantly while you waited. You knew they would follow you. And not even two minutes later, two of the most intimidating men you’d ever met in your life moved into your line of vision. You feigned a look of innocence, smiling at them as though you radiated purity, wearing the mask of a virgin.

But they knew so much better than to buy it for even a second. You were, by far, the furthest thing from an innocent virgin they’d ever encountered. The fact that you’d even managed to warm the space between them was proof enough of your irresistible, devilish nature.

“You think you’re cute, don’t you?” spoke the twin on the right, the one bearing a birthmark on his left cheek.

“And funny, and sexy, and smart, and charming,” you smirked, counting each of the adjectives on your fingers as you listed them. “Among other things.”

The twin on the left scoffed at you, shaking his head. “You’re a slut, [Y/N].”

“That’s very observant of you, Grayson! Like I said, ‘among other things.’ I’m very versatile.”

He looked ten seconds away from breaking the lamppost behind you in half. And with the body hidden under his Gucci shirt...he definitely could.

“E, get the car,” Grayson said, his nostrils flaring as be barely kept his voice below shouting level.

You bit your lip and eyed Grayson tauntingly, more excited than afraid for them to take their anger out on your body. This would be the greatest punishment you’d ever received, without a doubt. You felt your pussy ache in anticipation, unable to contain a giggle and devious smile under Grayson’s furious gaze.

Ethan pulled up in Grayson’s Porsche a minute later. Grayson pulled the door to the backseat open, his aggression present in his movements. He didn’t even order you to get in; he just looked at you with those menacing eyes. You felt a thrill run through you as your mind raced with possibilities of what punishment awaited you. You scooted into the backseat, leaving room for Grayson to follow after you. As the younger twin slammed his door shut, the older one sped off in the direction of their LA home.

Grayson wasted no time with you. He unbuckled his jeans and freed his cock from his boxers, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you down to his lap.

“You see how hard my cock is?” he asked you, keeping your head in place as he smacked it against your cheek mercilessly. “Do you see what you did?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered sweetly, loving the way he degraded you.

“Good. Time for you to take care of it.”

He didn’t hesitate as grabbed you by the cheeks and forced your mouth open for him before pushing your head down on his shaft. He made you take him all the way, something he knew you could handle perfectly. He sighed in pleasure, almost sounding relieved now that he had you where he needed you.

He fucked himself up into your mouth, not holding back at all. He knew you’d stop him if you needed to, but he knew even better than that that you could take it. More than that—you wanted to take it.

“This is how I should keep you, slut. With that disrespectful, pathetic mouth of yours full of my cock,” he spat out through gritted teeth.

You moaned around his cock in response, taking him even further back into your throat to let him fuck it deeper. Your mind was now clouded with lust, your vile thoughts agreeing with him completely, begging him to say more.

Whether he could read your mind or if your thoughts simply screamed loud enough for him to hear, he continued his verbal assault on you. “That’s right, filthy whore. Take daddy nice and deep. You don’t need to breathe, you only need my cock.”

Your eyes practically rolled back into your head, your pussy clenching tight in anticipation and desire. Feeling the vibration of your moan while his dick was being squeezed so well by your throat had Grayson throwing his head back and stilling as he reached his peak. He kept his cock nestled deep in your throat, the hot cum nearly choking you.

Grayson held your head in place still, his grip on your hair more intense. “Swallow it,” he growled, his eyes fixated on your pretty lips nearly kissing his hips with his cock buried in your throat.

You screwed your eyes up tight as you focused on swallowing around his dick, but after a second you managed to do it. Grayson’s moans were pure sin, his cock twitching as he felt your throat move around him.

When he was done using you, he pulled you off him and pushed you carelessly to the side. You gasped for air, your entire chin and chest covered in your own saliva (and probably a bit of cum, too). You didn’t get much of a break, because as soon as Grayson pushed you away from him, Ethan pulled into their driveway.

He parked hastily and practically jumped out of the car as soon as he turned the ignition off. He yanked the back door open, managing to be even more aggressive than Grayson had been. Driving here was pure torture for him. He had already been hard when you’d put on that show at the bar, but hearing you take Grayson into your throat and knowing how velvety you would feel around him had made him nearly dizzy with lust.

“Meet us inside,” he mumbled to his brother, grabbing you ruthlessly by the arm and pulling you out of the car.

You stumbled after him, whining as his fingers dug into your skin—which only made him grip you harder. Not even ten steps past the door, he had you bent over the back of his couch and your pants and underwear were discarded haphazardly on the floor. He rubbed his cock teasingly between your ass cheeks, moaning at the feeling of your body against him.

He angled his cock down slightly to line himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you in one swift motion. You screamed at the suddenness of his movement, your pussy clenching tightly around him as he stretched it.

He moaned in ecstasy, his grip on your hips holding you tightly in place. “Fuck, [Y/N], you took that so well,” Ethan praised, leaning forward to grab your hair the same way Grayson had. He pulled your head back while keeping one hand on your hip, making you arch your back toward him. “The question is, are you that wet? Or...” he leaned in closer to you, hunching his body over yours, “are you just that much of a whore?”

You let out a high-pitched moan, delighted by his grip on you and how deep inside you he was. “I’m a whore, sir,” you answered him, your voice coming out more whiny and needy than before.

The change in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Ethan. “You’re not so versatile right now, are you, [Y/N]?”

You shook your head as best you could with his fist still full of your hair. “No, sir. I’m just a whore. Just a filthy, slutty whore.”

Ethan hummed contentedly at your response, finally moving his hips. He stood back up to his full height, pounding into you with brute force. With each snap of his hips, you cried out, almost involuntarily. The power behind his thrusts was enough to force sounds out of you, though his dominance and control had you screaming in pleasure.

After a few brutal minutes, Ethan pushed himself completely in you and stilled his movements, his deep moans and twitching cock telling you he’d just reached his peak. He finished inside you, pulling out as soon as he was done. He let go of you, your body falling limply against the couch.

You leaned on the furniture for support, your legs completely spent. You were completely exhausted from being used so brutally, but at the same time, you’d loved every second of it.

Grayson, who had come in and simply sat on a nearby chair to watch the show, now stood and walked towards you. You looked up at him from your awkward position, being slightly bent over the couch. You were taken aback by a sudden and harsh slap to your ass, the force behind it enough to make you fall to your knees.

“Crawl to my room,” he said coldly, indicating that your punishment was far from over.

You crawled along the hardwood floors as you were told to, fighting the fatigue that was threatening to settle in your muscles. By the time you reached Grayson’s room, your knees were aching terribly. You waited for his command to stand up, and when it came and you stood, you saw towels laid out on his bed. You already knew the night would only get terribly longer.

With an impatient shove, Grayson urged you to get on the bed. He moved around you to tie you to his headboard to stop you from fighting against your next punishment. As always, you could always tell them to stop, and they would—though you couldn’t imagine wanting to.

Your wrists pulled on your restraints, testing them—they were secure, and you were helplessly bound. You already knew the sweet torture that awaited you. This was a punishment they reserved for the most extreme acts of disobedience—and, to be fair, you would definitely class your behavior tonight as falling under that category.

Grayson sat on the bed next to you, clad only in his underwear, eyeing you with animosity in his stare. You’d honestly never seen either of them so angry before. And if you had pushed them to this point, there was no telling what point they’d be pushing you to.

Ethan walked into Grayson’s room a moment later, also dressed in only his boxers. Since Ethan had thrown your pants and underwear to the side before, you were left in your top and your bra—but Grayson was quick to tear them off your body with the effortlessness of a god.

Ethan approached you with an object in his hand you were all too familiar with: the Magic Wand vibrator. Your heart rate spiked as you anticipated your punishment, your eyes wide and alert.

“You know your actions have consequences, [Y/N]. Don’t act all innocent now. You certainly weren’t acting innocently while you were trying to get an entire bar of men to fuck you,” Ethan spat, sitting on your other side and settling next to you.

I was trying to get two guys there to actually want me, you thought spitefully. You bit your tongue to save the conversation for later, during your aftercare.

Instead of mouthing off and getting in more trouble, you simply responded, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now lay there and take it,” Grayson said, his eyes glued to where your thighs met.

With that, Ethan turned on the vibrator and pressed it against your clit. The vibrations built you up to your orgasm quickly, but per your punishment, Ethan removed the vibrator before you could cum. The first few times weren’t so bad; it was almost nice. You walked the edge of release, your womb tightening and your walls flexing in desperation as you were denied release again and again.

After that point, though, was the reason your wrists were bound and you had one of the twins on both your sides. You quickly crumbled from the intensity of the teasing, your pussy practically aching for release. You were pushed to desperation and sensitivity quickly, your legs shaking and eventually trying to kick them away. They held your legs in place, preventing you from escaping your punishment.

After a short while, Ethan could barely even touch you with the vibrator from how close you were. You were sweating profusely, on the verge of tears from how desperate you were, whining wantonly and begging for release. This was only the first half of your punishment.

You’d regret begging to cum within ten minutes. Finally, after being edged for nearly twenty minutes, Ethan pressed the vibrator against you and let you cum. Your body jolted and shivered as you reached your sweet release, squirting from the intensity of your pleasure.

The pleasure was short lived. Ethan kept the vibrator pressed against your hypersensitive clit, your body convulsing through another two orgasms before the pain of overstimulation crashed over you. You were screaming so loud Grayson had to reach a hand up to cover your mouth. You were reduced to hysteric sobs before they decided that you’d probably learned your lesson.

As soon as Ethan turned off the vibrator, they both began to take care of you, showing you gentleness that you almost forgot they were capable of. Grayson worked to untie you from the headboard, massaging your wrists and placing kisses along your forearms.

Ethan went to Grayson’s closet and picked out a shirt for you to sleep in, leaving it with Gray to help you get dressed as he got some water for you. Grayson removed the towels soaked in your cum from his bed, treating you as though you were a precious flower in his garden.

You reached your arms out to him, craving his gentle touch, and he obliged you immediately. He wrapped you up in his secure embrace, and the feeling of his arms around you brought a twinge of sadness to you as you remembered why this had all started in the first place.

When Ethan brought you your water, you drank it down quickly before handing him the empty glass. You reached out for him as well, and like his brother, he was quick to comply to your request.

You were wrapped up between them, feeling safer than you’d ever felt anywhere else. You tried not to cry, but in your vulnerable state, the effort was futile. They both cooed at you softly, wondering with heavy hearts if they’d pushed you too far.

But that was far from the truth. “I just—I ju—hmph—I just want to be yours,” you finally got out between sobs.

Ethan and Grayson shared a look, and in the space between them—where, of course, you were lain—they seemed to decide it was only right for them to be exclusive with you. Sure, it was strange and could lead to a lot of complications in the future, but they’d worry about those when they got there. For the moment, you belonged exactly where you were, between them.

“[Y/N], baby,” Grayson started.

“You are ours,” Ethan finished, pressing his lips softly to your cheek. “You’re all ours.”

[catcherkazuya]

⚾🌟 daiya no ace liveblogging, episode 28 🌟⚾

(Awwwww yeah WE BACK AGAINNN) - lmao why is sawamura so excited to be up early ?? I fuckin wish I was like that

- honestly I'm glad that furuya is doing some self-reflection;; he needs it - 28 episodes and we still jamming 🎶 - omg I feel like I'm watching this show for the first time in so emotional I will never take another break again 😢

- LOLOLOL he was asleep on the floor I'm deaddd 💀 - “MORNING!” awwwwww 💕💕 cuties - ughh that side profile miyuki ITS TOO EARLY FOR THIS 

- good lord this thirst is already starting,, is it me or that green hoodie is making him looking like a snacccc ?? - YESSS MAEZONO he's just so lovable and excited okay vice captain I see youuu - wow fuckin mochi and miyuki treat him so DIRTYY 

- wowow okumura fuckin declineddd sawamura based on his presence - he's was like 🙅🏾‍♀️🙅🏾‍♀️🚫🙅🏾‍♀️🚫🚫🚫 - yo this struggle when they're in class is such a real thing - idk how they even have energy after morning practice bc I would be OUT - OH MY BABY IS TRYING SO HARDD - ooh we love practice games~ - jfc miyuki why are you a complete asshole ?? 😂 maezono is tryingg - uuuuuh why does miyuki look so GOOD ????!? fuccck 

- YESSS HIT THAT SHITTTT that's my whole mf husband put some respect on his NAME - aaa! aa! haurichi called mochi "you-san" 😭😭💕 my heart - FURUYA .??? ASKING ONO ??? TO CATCH ??!?! 

- furuya is so petty lol - Wow my first years @9:35 look great what the heck 

- yui is taking all his opportunities 👏🏾👏🏾 that's what I'm talking aboutt - wow I'm so proud of maezono like - C'MON SHIRASUUUU my heart literally lights up when I see him - omg everyone looks up to sawamura I AM SO 💞💗💝💓💞 - furuya was really having this moment and then BAM his whole fucking soul comes out of his body - OOOOOHH I FORGOT ABOUT HIS SHOULDER - yo this is giving me miyuki vibes from second season 🤧

- mhmm let the doctor tell you straight - your body 👏🏾 is 👏🏾 telling 👏🏾 you to 👏🏾 calm the fuck 👏🏾 down - also why that doctor look like he just got electrocuted - LISTENN 

- WHA all the third years just standing in the road that's so menacing wtf lol - whewwww that's serious miyuki right there @ 19:22  

- Okay but did miyuki think that he was supposed to save or prevent furuya from being injury if he was his permanent partner ??? Because furuya was really doing this shit to himself out of internalize anxiety over being the ace - there is no one person who was gonna "save" furuya other than himself so 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️ - MAEZONOOOOOO PLEASE BE MY BIG BROTHER I NEED THAT KIND OF SUPPORT 💞💞🤧

- what what ? this tension is so good !! - sawamura said BUMP ALL THAT I'M STILL TRYING ACE IDGAF ABOUT YO SHOULDER - I mean he didn't really say that but y'all know what I mean

this week’s end card (ft. these two dumbasses seidou’s rivals)

[survivorsunsetrodeo]

Ep 7 | I Just Played Myself - Dan

I BOUGHT THE IDOL LMAOOOO EL PSY KONGROO MOTHERFUCKERS

I am so sorry Timmy, no I am not really, this round is a DOUBLE tribal oh hell no

Okay, amazing. I can never remember what I write in these things but yesterday I was thinking that I didn't want to take Nic to merge and spoke to Taylor about maybe getting Emma and Josh to vote with us and get Nic out if we go to tribal since I wasnt so sure about Brandi and Jabari's stance with him. Jabari was the one who wanted him in the 5 "alliance" and I wasn't sure how Brandi would feel about turning on the alliance.

BUUUUUT Brandi and I  were chatting this morning and I mentioned that Emma looked like the easy vote but Nic makes me nervous. Then was like, well, what if we vote Nic instead??? Uh, yes. What a great idea, Brandi!! She pitched it to Jabari and we're all in. We only need 4 but I think it'd be best if Josh and Emma were in on it too. Nic already thinks its Emma.

Sounds like Nic and Emma want to sit out of the immunity challenge. Perfection.

Nic has enough cash for an idol and its for sale this round. IDK if he'd buy and play it just to get through merge. If hes not playing the game he has to feel comfortable enough, right? If he does buy/play an idol Emma will go if he votes for her. I feel like he will. But just in case I think one of  the rest of the tribe should also vote Emma. If he throws a vote it'd be a 1-1 tie if he has immunity and we'd revote Emma, but I think that'd be unlikely. Whooo! A little bit of action. I'm getting what I want, Brandi feels like she's in charge, we're keeping our Beeho connections in tact and the whole new Beeho tribe feeling mostly comfortable. Perfect. We still have to get through today and tomorrow before tribal but I feel good.

You know, I was hoping we'd be able to stay immune until the merge, but clearly the universe is telling me its time to shake things up!

Emma and Josh are, at the point, the only solid allies I have in this game. Merging without them by my side would be awful for my game so at this point I'm going to do whatever I can to protect them.

Prior to reward results, Josh and I decided it would be best to purchase the Tier 1 and Tier 2 idols for this round as a way of not only protecting ourselves, but also making sure that no one else has them to screw with our plans.

I'm pretty sure that according to the Emo Elephant alliance of Jabari, Taylor, Megs, and Brandi, Emma is the target just because of her inactivity. I know though if she wins immunity, Josh will become the target because he's the only one left not in the alliance.

Emma winning immunity would actually be ideal, because then Josh could play his idol on himself, and I could play my idol on myself with the excuse of "I was worried they were voting for me." and it won't look like a coordinated thing.

I think Josh, Emma, and I will end up targeting either Jabari or Taylor. I like them both, but at this point I think it's still worth it to try and preserve an OG Pearl alliance at merge. There's essentially a whole tribe of people I haven't met yet so working with them would be unrealistic.

This vote is going to be crazy, and is definitely going to be the hardest one yet. I like everyone on this tribe and wouldn't be making this move unless I absolutely had to. 

I'm not well versed in Retirement Home Lore but I hope I somehow end up as the person who sat out of the most challenges.

Of course I wanted to win immunity tonight, but I think everything will be okay???? I mean they could easily vote me out going into a possible merge to have the numbers on OG Pearl, but... I just don't see that happening?

I mean I could be boo boo the fool rn but again, I would literally die for Ari. I just feel like we bond too much on a personal level for them to slit my throat at this point. At f7 on? Yeah it's fair game, but I think Ari needs me as much as I need them? Or maybe I'm just a narcissist. 

I think I’m in a better position than I originally thought? See the thing about having an idol is I feel like I can be a little more bolder and a little more reckless in the moves I’m trying to make. I probably don’t even need this idol but I’m still going to play it because I’m not about to waste $400 on an idol I won’t play the round it is an actual idol!

I reached out to Taylor telling her about a possible voting bloc of me, her, Jabari and Emma and try to vote out either Megs or Brandi. She seems receptive to it and she also thinks Jabari is open to making some moves. Which checks to what Jabari has been telling to Emma and myself that “As long as Taylor and I are here you aren’t going anywhere.”. I feel like Taylor is an unexpected ally for me. Ideally, me, Emma, Nic, Taylor and Jabari vote out either Megs because she seems to be more socially savvy than Brandi and I think I can still salvage something with Brandi. When we merge I follow Taylor with whatever connections she has on Old Beeho and try to set myself up where I’m protected on all sides.

Worst case scenario is Taylor rats this out to the alliance chat but not all is lost because I think Nic would be willing to play his idol for Emma. Nic is our little rat and I really appreciate him hehe. Now if this happen I really really want it to be a 1-1-1-0-0 vote. Imagine the chaos. El Psy Kongroo

I WON THE 21 FLAGS I REDEEMED MYSELF AND BROKE MY CURSE WHAT A HECKIN RELIEF

so glad my page of madman notes and my alliances with both the other players paid off whewwww. it's been forever since i've had an immunity necklace so i WILL be wearing it with pride! i'm definitely feeling a lot better about tonight's vote now that i have this, but also i am still pretty nervous because chloe has been far too quiet. i feel honestly so bad about not telling her the whole timmy thing but now im just confused like, did that break her and she's given up? or does she have some master scheme advantage shit that she's gonna pull out to make our lives hell? UGH i don't know. it's so awkward to try and talk to her about it and part of me feels like if she's not gonna make the effort i shouldn't either but :(((((( bad vibes y'all. i would have maybe even fought for her if she'd been trying harder, but like i can't just take someone into merge who's giving me nothing and who will probs blow up my spot as soon as we get to the new camp, so at this point the plan is to have me jacob dan vote for chloe and ali throw a vote on dan just in case, and just have chloe do whatever tf she wants i guess.

so the possibilities of what could happen tonight: 1) everything goes according to plan and chloe goes home without much fuss 2) chloe pulls out an idol, then it's either a) split vote between ali/dan and we vote dan on the revote or b) 3 votes negated 2 votes dan 3) if dan goes rogue and also throws a vote, it could get messy in even more ways - if he votes the same as chloe and she doesn't play an idol, we have a 2-2-1 tie where we'd want to revote chloe but then dan could get upset and loose cannon all over the place. if he votes the same as chloe and she does play an idol, whomever they voted (probs ali) goes home. if he votes different from chloe and she doesn't idol, it could either be a 2-1-1-1 or 2-2-1, and if he votes different from her and she does idol it's 1-1-1 or 2-1-1........

like, damn. this five-person vote is like the 3-2-1 flag combination in the challenge: on paper it seems better to have a lower number of factors to think about, but there's so many more ways you can divide and rearrange for different outcomes that you'd really rather avoid it at all costs. basically how i feel about all this is, if chloe sticks around my game is pretty much screwed but also as long as i can keep jacob, i'll have the strength to keep going. losing ali would suck bc he's a solid number always, losing dan would be painful bc i've really grown to like him and he's closer to a strategic match for me, but i have faith that me and jacob can overcome anything together. if jacob goes home somehow.................. i would be absolutely devastated. i'd have no choice but to go all scorched-earth on everyone's asses. if i lose jacob, everyone must suffer. so let's not let jacob go home tonight mmkay? <3

anyway, really hoping we do actually m*rge after this, my plan if chloe doesnt go home tonight is to throw myself at josh and tsl immediately and tell both of them i'll do whatever the fuck they want. if chloe does go home as planned, i'll still reach out to them but i can afford to be a bit more cool and aloof about it.

I think its cool I won immunity. But the double tribal is terrible ngl, I don't want anyone to go because we were such a powerful tribe and I get the reason why we are going. Doesn't make the choice any easier though, I have alot to ponder, I might not even know who I'm voting at tribal.

It all went tits up last time so fuck it 

I keep telling myself to smile and breath through the pain of being lied to and that I will get my revenge for Timmy in time. It’s so much more difficult being patient than losing my shit in tribe chat and yelling about everyone or randomly spreading a rumour that there’s a secret duo 

This tribal is very... suspicious. It's been quiet ALL DAY and Megs has been throwing my name under the bus to Emma and apparently to Taylor to. She told them that it was ME who came up with Emma's name and that I am not to be trusted. Now I'm not sure if she's saying all of that to convince Emma she's not going home or if she genuinely believes it but either way it's just another reason for me not to trust her. She is clearly a very strategic person who will do anything to ensure she has the power. Well Megs... you're about to be impeached and removed.

I literally have no idea what is going to happen at merge at this point. This tribal is really going to shake things up and anything could happen. I feel like chances are I'll be on the bottom come merge and will probably be an early merge boot, but is there anything I can really do about that? I didn't do anything to deserve being on the bottom of OG Pearl yet it's stuck with me this entire game. You could say I have a victim complex but I am the victim. 

why do these ppl think im dumb as hell thats my personality but not my brain they telling lies like jabari and nic are a duo how nic wants me out then i hear that megs spread my name now i feel chaotic i hope josh gives me his idol because like i really want to play this game i am better now it took a bit but im here and queer :DDD i have nothing against these ppl except jabari for basically pushing me away like if im still here in jury im making notes of this..

Oy! This should be so much easier than its been.

I'm so uncomfortable.

So earlier Brandi, Taylor, Jabari, and I agreed to take out Nic, despite having him in the alliance. Now Jabari seems like she's ready to fall on the sword for him? Where did that come from?? Nic claims he never talks to her.

Reached out to Emma and assured her I want her to stay and floated Nic to her. Obviously she was down. Then I tell her to be careful what she tells Jabari bc i think her and Nic are a pair and up to something. Emma says she talked to Jabari to plead her case and Jabari brushed her off and just said, "dw you're fine" but didnt give a name.

Jabari also floated to Taylor, "we could go with the group or make a move with Emma and Josh." And Taylor said "No" and then Jabari said okay, its between Emma and Josh then.

Like I don't know where Jabari's head is at. I feel like Taylor would tell me if she heard my name. I also feel like that'd be fucked up if Jabari wanted me out after I helped her practice for the immunity challenge but I really really dont know! Maybe its Brandi? Ugh

I trust Brandi and Taylor's vote.

I want to believe Emma will also vote Nic.

Josh doesnt seem to have a great strategic mind. I spoke to him a little last night before I went to bed and he suggested staying OG Pearl strong. Weak strategy but also we wont have majority unless Dan DOESNT go tonight. Then we'd go in even and Beeho would have proven to be very strong in their ties, what would stop any OG Pearl (me lol) from flipping and putting OG Pearl in the minority to pick off? No. I was trying to lead him to think Nic was the untrustworthy one but it either went over his head or he's also with Nic. By the number of times he says "I dont understand" or "I really don't get it" in a day, he might've just missed my subtle directing. Fortunately,  Emma said she'd talk to him and Brandi wants to give him a call before tribal and convince him to vote Nic.

And I just cant read Nic. I can't tell if he's comfortable or knows I don't trust him and is lying to me as much as I'm lying to him. Does he have an idol? He talks about the shop A LOT and had enough to buy one of them. He said his goal was to make it past merge so I wouldn't put it past him to buy and play one even if he was comfortable  just to make it.

Even that would be fine if I felt confident that the vote was on Emma and not me Brandi or Taylor. I feel like someone would tell at least one of us if something was up but if its Jabari Nic Emma and Josh together, thats a majority and whoever they vote is done.

Its so scary. I don't like being afraid so fuck it, I'm just going to vote Nic. I really feel like they arent voting TSL so in case it is me, ofc I want my buddy to have the best chance so I'm going to give her all my money before tribal. I would be surprised if I was voted out but better have a back up plan in case it goes awry. She'll give it back and I'll buy the top tier idol just before radomizing at what, 11 tonight? Kinda a waste to try to be sneaky since the item is taken out of the randomizer but *shrug*

So in conclusion I'm terrified but I'm still voting Nic. Getting Nic out would take out someone I'm suspicious of, eliminate the threat of a pair (Jabari/Nic), gain hopefully lasting loyalty from Emma for giving her a chance, and working with Taylor to get ins with Beeho in case they're very OG Beeho Strong. Jabari might be mad but she's so much better at games than me and I do NOT want to go to the end with her. She is a CHAMP.

These people are scrambling like crazy............... 

This should be the most easy straightforward vote of the season and I’m freaking the fuck out. It seems too good to be true that it’s Chloe.

Chloe has done very little to get out of this pickle she’s in. I’m very worried that she may have some sort of advantage that might get her out of this mess, but at the same time idk. She allegedly has no money because of exile. But is that because she got something for risking it??? Idfk man.

I’m tempted to throw a vote on Jacob just in case of an idol play and everyone else but Chloe votes for Chloe. Idk I mean no one would know? And if she cancels a vote or two it won’t matter. Idek I’m in my head sooooo bad

ahhhh i'm at work so sorry for no video but we are voting chloe tonight and dan ari and ali and i are in an alliance and we're going to attempt to dominate at merge so yay

So apparently Megs, Brandi, and Taylor are throwing my name out because they believe 1.) I've been the one causing all the drama and 2.) I'm in a duo with Jabari. I've literally never had a one on one strategic convo w/ Jabari and barely speak with her in general. Also I've made it a point to not cause drama this season AT ALL and remain calm and under the radar. So to see it all crash down on me regardless is really disheartening. I also really liked Brandi so to learn she was the one spreading the rumor that Jabari and I are a duo sucks. I'm really confused as to why all this drama is being created and then being pinned on me. Oh well.

To continue on this point..

All this drama is being stirred up and being pinned on me and it sucks. I used to be a super dramatic and chaotic person and I've literally made it such a point to change this season. It's why I went home season 1 and I've done everything in my power not to let that happen again. I'm not sure why Megs and Brandi were so quick to turn on me? Like honestly? Megs is kinda the villain of the season and Brandi is her minion. Like the Despicable Me type of Minion. Which makes Megs Gru. 

Power Rankings: ONE - TAYLOR (+1) Threat: 8 (+1)
 Fuck I don’t think I realized how much power I had over people until this round. Megs was close to being a goner this round, still could be but I fixed the situation unless an idol pops up. I had a call with josh where he basically said im his number one and will vote how I do because im the only one he trusts, so he should be voting Nic this round. I also got megs to give me all her money incase she leaves this round. TWO - MEGS (-1) Threat: 8 (-1) Trust: 10 (+1) This has been a wild round, megs rolls in at #2 for a couple reasons. People are onto her, they know how big her threat level is and I knew it would come. I think I stuck my neck out too much for her this round. But she still has enough control over people that I don’t have, like brandi, which is why she comes in at #2. THREE - BRANDI (NC) Threat: 6 (NC) Trust: 8 (+4) Brandi comes in at number 3 because no one is saying her name, she’s sitting pretty and not having to lift a finger. However, she is getting grouped with megs which could be a danger to her game. Brandi is definitely UTR, and doing a good job keeping it that way. Brandi’s trust shot up because I know she doesn’t have any other option right now that to stick with megs, and I know megs and I are good. FOUR - JABARI (NC) Threat: 8 (+3) Trust: 2 (-6) Jabari almost pulled off a massive move this round in getting megs, she included me in it however, and I was able to diffuse the bomb before it exploded. Her trying to make this move is why her threat level increases. She’s onto me though, she told josh that she thinks I leaked it to megs, which I did. So that’s why I dont trust her anymore, I need her to leave ASAP. FIVE - JOSH (NC) Threat: 3 (+1) Trust: 9 (+6) Josh and I made a lot of progress this round. We had our first one on one call where he told me I was his number one. He said he trusts me, he gave me a lot of info on his concerns and also what people have been telling him. I don’t think he has enough social capital to make things happen, and even if he did he wouldn’t do it without me. SIX - EMMA (NC) Threat: 1 (NC) Trust: 3 (NC) I think the only reason Emma isn’t a goner this round is because megs wants Nic gone. She kinda just does as she’s told and that’s about it. Not a terrible strategy but annoying for someone like me who doesn’t particularly trust her. Emma doesn’t have a lot of say in what happens, but is included in the majorities plans as Jabari wanted her a part of the megs blindside, and megs wanted her a part of the Nic blindside. SEVEN - NIC (NC) Threat: 6 (NC) Trust: 2 (-4) I had a very bad round with Nic. I can tell Jabari leaked to him that his name is out there, and I know hes come to me saying that people think hes stupid and hes talking about me. I dont think hes stupid, I just dont have trust built with him. He doesn’t hold a lot of power this round, he likely is the one leaving unless he has an idol. 

[armanihouse]

Whewwww baby y'all been bugging the ish outta me with that one photo 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 dang aight y'all Until Tomorrow I'm out ✌️ https://www.instagram.com/p/CDpwkp_Dju9/?igshid=1uuolhv4fb73w