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glossdebut · 3 months ago

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Take a Bite Ch. 3

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: yoongi being RICH. also... remember that eventual smut? well it's kind of here! if you wanna skip, stop reading at [Maybe you should fix that.] and then continue at [After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach...]

✧ WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi i normally post on wednesdays but we're about to get a HURRICANE where i'm at so i'm posting early lmfao. rating goes up in this chapter whoops! not sure when chapter 4 will be posted but i'll keep you guys updated. thank you all so much for the engagement i've been receiving on this fic!!! it's my first one ever and i never expected to get so many readers so quickly <3 you guys are keeping me writing so please feel free to send me feedback if you like this chapter. i'd love to read it if i have power over the next few days LOL

Chapter 3: I Wanna Fold Clothes For You

So, you and Yoongi are friends.

Of course, seeing him three times within twenty four hours was a fluke, and over the next six days you don’t see him once, not even in passing in your shared hallway. You’re not privy to his work hours, but you know based on what little he’s told you that working as a producer demands more than the normal nine to five, as does your job.

Still, there’s something about coming home every night and knowing that you have a friend right down the hall, if you need one. You haven’t had that in a long time, and you feel so much lighter now that you do have it.

There is, of course, an upside to not being able to see Yoongi often. Given that you’ve only just met him, you don’t have his appearance committed to memory quite yet, and mercifully, you’re beginning to forget why you were so viscerally attracted to him in the first place.

You reason that it must’ve been the alcohol. You were getting drunk when you met him, stupidly drunk when you discovered that you’re neighbors, hungover when you shared a tangerine, and drinking from a bottomless glass of wine (courtesy of Seokjin) when you drooled over his hands for a solid ten minutes. You have yet to interact with Yoongi clear-headed and lucid. Not to mention you’re just a little bit… pent up, recently. Drunk and horny Y/N had the wheel. That has to be it. Nobody is that hot. You’re sure of that. Men ain’t special!

So you go through your week business as usual, but with a slight spring in your step, and it’s lovely. You even venture way further away from the office for your lunch hour on Friday than you normally would to go to a restaurant you’ve been dying to try. You’re usually so tied to the office that the furthest you tend to go is the convenience store down the street for the instant stuff.

And then, since the universe demands correction (or overcorrection where you’re concerned), all of the floaty goodness comes to a screeching halt when you get in your car to head back to the office. Your car which, in the past hour you’ve been blissfully stuffing your face with tteokbokki, has decided it has done its job and is ready to retire.

It just straight up won’t start.

Sitting in the parking lot of the restaurant, you go into crisis management mode.

You’re thankfully not completely clueless where cars are concerned. It comes with the territory of owning a beater. You keep up with your oil changes, you don’t leave the lights on when you get home late. You replaced your battery semi-recently, so that shouldn’t be it. Unfortunately, you don’t have much time to troubleshoot. You need to get back to work. Okay… Damage control, then.

The most obvious solution is to call one of your coworkers to come and rescue you, but your coworkers are just as notorious for being tethered within a one mile radius of the office as you are, so that would more than likely end up being a waste of time. You could find the nearest bus stop, but who knows how long public transportation could take right now? Too unpredictable. You could call your boss and tell him that you’re not going to be back to the office anytime soon (or at all today) and get your car towed and repaired. But then you would suddenly have a reputation of being unreliable, because god forbid you have a human moment. That’s straight up not an option. You’ve been doing so good this week.

You’re sure there are other options. But isn’t this what friends are for?

He answers on the fifth ring, but he answers.

“Y/N?”

“Yoongi.” You feel your shoulders slump in relief. You try your best not to sound as panicked as you feel. “Are you busy?”

“Um. I’m at the studio,” he says, confusion in his voice. “But I have a minute. Is everything okay?” Confusion and concern? That’s nice.

“Everything’s fine!” you blurt out. “Okay, maybe not. My car won’t start! I don’t know why, but it won’t, and I need to get back to work, but you’re at work, too! I don’t even know where you work, but I doubt it’s anywhere near where I am, and even if it is, I don’t want to tear you away from anything important—”

“Y/N.”

“—I know you said you had a minute, but I really don’t want to fuck up your flow. That’s a term, right? You’re a producer, you… flow. Anyway, I just don’t really know anyone here and I didn’t know who to call, and if I don’t get back to work soon my boss is going to kill me—”

“Y/N,” he says, more firmly. Your mouth snaps shut. “Where are you?”

“In my car,” you say dumbly, frazzled.

Yoongi sighs. “Send me your location.”

“For what?”

“I’m gonna send a car to come get you and drive you to your office,” he says, and he sounds just the slightest bit exasperated about needing to explain that to you.

Send a car? What the fuck? You have so many questions, such as: how fucking loaded is the guy who lives two doors down from you in your very shitty apartment building? What label does he even work for? How famous of a producer is he to be able to send a car to you? But your immediate instinct to turn down his help wins out over asking any of them.

“What? Yoongi, no, that’s too much,” you complain. “Don’t do that. I just freaked out a little bit, I can–”

“Y/N,” he interrupts. If you’re not mistaken, it sounds a bit like he’s trying not to laugh at you. Fucker. “Location.”

So you send him your location. What other option do you have?

“You’re not far,” Yoongi says once he receives your text. A few moments pass, and then: “Car will be there in ten.”

“Thank you,” you say. You feel nauseous, like maybe you’re going to cry, but there’s also a good amount of relief there, too. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need,” he says. “I’d come get you myself, but I really can’t get away right now.”

“Still, there’s a comically large bottle of an alcohol of your choosing in your future. Seriously, thank you.”

His responding laugh is enough to settle your stomach just a little. “Seriously, you don’t need to pay me back…” A pause. “But for the record, I like whiskey.”

You wrinkle your nose even though he can’t see it. “Gross.”

“Don’t be a hater.”

“As long as you don’t make me drink it with you, I’ll keep my comments to myself,” you say, finding yourself smiling.

“Oh, you think I share?” Yoongi teases back. He sighs again. “I really have to go.”

“Go, go,” you say. “Thanks for saving me. Even if it’s by proxy.”

“You can always call me if you need shit like this,” he says. You can tell that he means it. “I’m glad you called me. Means I’m doing something right.”

“You are,” you say, your voice soft. Your cheeks feel warm. Probably because you’re sitting in a dead car. “Thanks.”

Yoongi hums in response. “Text me when you get back to the office safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye, Yoongi.”

And that’s that.

★ ★ ★

True to your word, you text Yoongi when the stupidly luxurious car he ordered for you drops you off at your office, only ten minutes later than you’re due back from your lunch break. You’re able to slip in without anyone noticing that you’re late at all, which is great. Crisis partially averted.

He sends back a thumbs up emoji, and then decides to drop the bomb that he intends to pay for your car to be towed.

[1:21] You: YOONGI NO

[1:21] You: you can’t do that!!!!

[1:24] Yoongi: 100% I can and will as soon as I get ten minutes to make a phone call to sort it out.

The audacity of this man.

[1:25] You: seriously i cannot ask you to do that

[1:25] You: i was just going to take the bus back to the restaurant after work and deal with it from there. i’m actively researching towing companies and repair places on company time as we speak

[1:30] Yoongi: You’re not asking me. You’ve got enough to worry about. Let me take care of it. I know the places.

[1:31] You: still, i can’t let you spend money like that on me. i don’t even wanna think about what that car cost you

[1:31] Yoongi: If it helps you sleep at night you can pay me back on your own time. You definitely don’t have to though.

[1:32] Yoongi: That reminds me. You can use that car until yours is taken care of if you need to. I’ll send you the driver’s contact. Don’t take the bus.

You feel like you’re going insane.

[1:33] You: do you have a grammy or something? what do you DO to be able to afford shit like this? why do you live in our building? are you a drug dealer?

[1:37] Yoongi: :]

Of course, he gives you no clues about what exactly he does, but after a bit more back-and-forth, you finally give in and let Yoongi handle everything under the condition that you’re going to pay him back. He doesn’t seem all that worried about it, which infuriates you just a little.

You go through the rest of your day like normal, if not a tad twitchy. Come quitting time, you take advantage of having a driver at your disposal and have him stop a liquor store on your way home.

As you take the elevator up to your floor, comically large whiskey bottle (as promised) in tow, you text Yoongi and ask if he’s home yet. At his responding ‘No, why?’ you cackle to yourself and pocket your phone. The elevator doors slide open. You were hoping that would be the case.

You clocked out at a semi-normal time tonight, a gift to yourself to cope with the stress of the day, and so you take great pleasure in setting the bottle down on Yoongi’s very tasteful cat doormat, flipping it off right back on your way into your own apartment.

You silently pray to whatever god may be listening that the whiskey isn’t swiped by someone before Yoongi gets home. Your cat, Pepper, is blinking at you lazily on the kitchen counter, and you give her a triumphant little scratch on the head before padding to your bedroom to deal with your laundry.

Your move, Min Yoongi.

★ ★ ★

“Do I need to be jealous?”

You take advantage of getting off work early to call your best friend Rina for the first time in what feels like forever. She’s in Paris this month, debuting a play that she’s been working on tirelessly about aliens and drug addiction. You’ve read the script six times over. It’s both campy and gut wrenching all at once, and you’ve cried every time. You picture her with her very chic haircut, sipping from a flute of champagne. The thought of her being jealous of any part of your life is laughable.

“What do you have to be jealous of, exactly?” you snort, holding your phone between your ear and shoulder as you toss your laundry basket upside down on your bed unceremoniously. Your clothes are covered in a perma-layer of Pepper hair, and you think it’s lucky that Pepper is a black cat and most of your clothes are black. Very enviable.

“Of Yoongi, dipshit,” she coos through the phone. “You’re replacing me.”

“Sure,” you say, like she’s making total sense. You’re lying on top of your laundry now instead of folding it. You put her on speakerphone and rest your phone on your chest. “I’m throwing away ten years of being your best friend for a guy that I met a week ago. I’m glad you figured it out, honestly, because I was dreading telling you. I was going to wait until your matinée, but you don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“Of course. You have to do what’s right for you, I’ve always told you that,” she deadpans back, and you groan. You don’t want to hear it. “No, I just mean… It’s good. That you’re meeting people.”

“We’re neighbors,” you say, flopping over onto your front to rub at your temples. Rina is resting on a pile of your underwear now. “We talk about work. My work, not his, because he thinks it’s funny to act like he’s too cool to tell me about his job. He’s helping me with my car. We’re… neighborly.”

“And you want to fuck him,” she says. Maybe calling Rina was a bad idea. Debriefing over text would have sufficed.

“I don’t want to fuck him,” you say, indignant. “We’re friends. He’s nice. I can have a guy friend.”

“Of course you can,” Rina says, like you’re dumb for even thinking she would imply otherwise. “And you can be friends with him all you want. But you also want to fuck him.”

You groan in protest but she speaks over it.

“Baby, you can pretend, but I know how you talk about people you want to have sex with, even if you don’t say it outright,” she continues. “He may just be feeding you and helping you and talking to you about the weather, but I know you, and I know the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, letting your face drop into your laundry. It smells good. Small comforts.

“Are you going to let him?”

“No,” you whine, muffled by the cotton. “I don’t need that. There are always strings. I hate strings.”

“You said he’s a super straightforward, honest guy, right?” Rina asks.

“Brutally so,” you grumble.

“So. Maybe he’d be cool with a lack of strings. You won’t know unless you ask, baby.”

You want to tell her that’s easy for her to say, but you don’t want to fight with her when you know you won’t hear from her like this again for a while.

Rina has never compromised for anything. She decided in both of your sophomore year of college, after flirting with both performance and directing, that she wanted to be a playwright, and that was that.

She wrote and wrote and wrote, and after you graduated together, her career blossomed almost instantly because she worked goddamn hard for it. She got opportunities to travel and work with theatre companies around the world, and she took them without giving it a second thought because she knew it was what she wanted. And she’s had a consistent, loyal boyfriend nearly the whole time. He doesn’t always travel with her, but he supports her in everything she does. They’re excruciatingly healthy about it.

When your long-term college boyfriend dumped you unceremoniously two months into your first reporter gig because he felt he came second to your career, Rina was there for you. But you resented her a little bit. There was no way she could understand any of it.

Still, as much as you hate to admit it, she has a point. You could just ask Yoongi if he wants to fool around without it being a thing, and you know he’d give you a straight answer. You’re even pretty confident he wouldn’t make it weird if his answer was no. That’s not the problem. It never is.

“The problem isn’t whether or not I think he’d be cool with it,” you mumble. “The problem is if he is cool with it, and then the strings come anyway. The friendship is nice. I’m attracted to him, yeah, fine. But I can ignore it if it means I get to be his friend.”

Theres a long pause on the line, and then Rina sighs.

“Your life would be a lot easier if you could do one night stands,” she says.

Don’t you know it.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve gotta go, okay? Text me. Keep me updated on life.” You read between the lines. On Yoongi, she means. “I love you.”

“Mmmhh,” you mumble back, still burying your face into your laundry.

When the line disconnects, you feel considerably more twitchy and irritable than you did before talking to Rina.

So, you’re attracted to Yoongi. Or you were, when you were drunk and he was all… hot and considerate. That doesn’t mean you have to act on it! You’re not going to act on it. You’re just pent up, that’s all. It’s been a long time since you’ve had an orgasm, self-inflicted or otherwise, and you can’t think straight.

Maybe you should fix that.

It’s clear you’re giving up on laundry for the night, so you shove the mountain of clothes back into the basket on the floor, sighing as you lay back on your bed.

You feel only slightly ridiculous as you shimmy your sleep shorts down your thighs, your hands sliding up your shirt to cup your breasts, squeezing slightly. Warming yourself up.

You quickly decide to get to the point, though. You’re struggling to immerse yourself in the fantasy that usually does the trick, too wound up and embarrassed (as if it’s not you in here by yourself, as usual) at groping yourself.

Despite the embarrassment, it becomes abundantly clear that you didn’t really need to warm yourself up anyway. Your fingers slide through your folds with ease, drenched like you’ve been that way all fucking day, unbeknownst to you, and a surprised moan falls from your lips. Fuck.

Closing your eyes, you circle two fingers around your clit experimentally, making your hips jerk up under you, sensitive. You do it again, a little firmer, starting a slow rhythm that makes you squirm against your mattress, your bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

It feels good. It usually does—you’ve always been able to make quick work of an orgasm to rid yourself of any lingering jitters before bed. But it feels really good right now, your pussy extra sensitive tonight, and you can’t figure out why. There’s nothing new about what you’re doing.

Rina’s words worm their way into your brain uninvited—the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him—and you’re too turned on to stop that train of thought, flashes of capable hands and pink tongue (tonguetechnologytonguetechnologytonguetechnology) filling your mind, and you’re moaning softly despite yourself as you rub your clit a little faster.

You continue to make soft noises of pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, dry from panting as the barrage of Yoongi-related thoughts keep coming, bringing you closer and closer to your release.

Dark, dark eyes looking down at you. A delicate chain dangling above your face. You whimper, your fingers sliding down from your clit to sink into your pussy, curling up to rub at your inner walls. A thick cock sliding into you, filling you so deliciously.

You pump your fingers fast and desperate as you get closer and closer to that sweet edge. You wonder what Yoongi would sound like if he was the one fucking into you right now. Would he moan in your ear in that gravelly voice of his? He’s a man of few words. Would he be like that in bed, too? Would he call you sweet names? Not so sweet? Which ones?

Your walls flutter around your fingers, your hips stuttering up off the mattress as your orgasm crashes over you and you gasp out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You stare up at the ceiling for a minute panting. The high of your release buzzes pleasantly through your body before it starts ebbing away, but the thoughts of Yoongi pervade. Well, fuck.

After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach to grab a towel from your laundry basket and wipe off your fingers, tossing it on the floor. You grab your phone, only to be greeted by a notification from the subject of your masturbation fantasy himself. He sent it about ten minutes ago.

When you tap it open, you’re greeted with a photo (!!!) of Yoongi holding your gift next to his head, the hand wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle almost dwarfed by its sheer size. A testament to the ridiculousness of it, because you’re well aware of how long Yoongi’s fingers are. There’s a lazy smirk on his face, and a mole that you’re just now noticing on his right cheek.

[8:23] Yoongi: Cute.

Yep. Yep. Cool.

You swipe out, tapping on Rina’s contact.

[8:35] You: okay. i want to fuck him.

[8:35] Rina: 🥂🥳🎉

Shit.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro

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maliland · 9 months ago

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RESENTMENT: PT. 2

"how could you lie?" part one angel(s): e-42 miles morales & black fem reader includes: angst, infidelity, homewrecking, depressing themes, & heartbreak (men being disappointments per usual) synopsis: you used to describe your experience with love as one of complexity and simplicity all at once, but after you learn what your boyfriend did at a party with another girl while you were at home and sick, your heart is left with irreparable damage and an abundance of resentment. wc: 6.7k divider by @/cafekitsune a/n: this is gonna be my last sv fic for a hot min (or forever) 😭 savor and enjoy. ik the tag has been dead and you all have been malnourished, so yw! <3 icl, idk how i feel about it but y'all can lmk 🫶 (p.s: before ppl start nothing non-pg ever happened in this fic at any point in time. just kissing. ion get down like that 👍 thanks.)

when you arise in the morning and before you lay your head to rest at night, one thing is always definite: you are human.

humans are imperfect, so they make mistakes. genuine ones. honest ones. you’ve mixed up salt and sugar while baking chocolate chip cookies. you’ve hit your best friend square in the face while trying to spike a volleyball. you’ve missed assignment deadlines, forgotten about chores, and left the grocery list at home, all honest mistakes. a boy pressing his lips to another girl’s, though he has another he calls his own, is not a mistake. if it were up to you, it’d be a crime punishable by execution. between miles and yourself, no mercy was shown for the loyal one of you two, so why should he be granted any? infidelity; the act itself is the murder of the most important, sacred muscle, so why not return the favor?

you know your intentions before you give into the temptation of them. you knew miles knew. he knew from the moment that girl pulled him over to a vacant bedroom. did he think they’d simply exchange pleasantries? even so, why partake in such with someone who clearly has a taste for you? a taste for insulting the one you love most just as easily as she breathed?

these are all questions that would never be answered truthfully. you’d have to make peace with the reality or the only peace you’d know was the eternal kind that followed after death. and to think that you once believed in those stupid children’s fairy tales. miles made you believe that that kind of love could be real life. he almost made you believe you could attain the happy ending you always dreamed about. you were so close to it too. to have your bubble burst like that by the person you love most..? cold. way colder than the shivers repeatedly sinking down your spine.

it was a stupid idea to leave your window open.

the medicine you had taken for your cold had you knocked out in the warmth of your bed and you slept soundly. the chilly air would blow through the curtains now and then. the wind was only a light breeze at first. it felt nice, maybe even comforting, but when night finally fell, the current picked up. you were woken up by an icy blast hitting your face.

you groaned and slowly rose up, pulling the covers off of you before you swung your legs off of the bed. you drowsily staggered to your window and forced it shut, drawing the curtains closed only seconds afterward. you would just have to hope the mishap wouldn’t make you any sicker than you already were. you mindlessly carried yourself back to your bed and submerged yourself under the covers. you grabbed your phone, which was lying face down beside you.

you unlocked your phone and went straight to instagram, tapping through everyone's stories. most of the people you knew were at the party. parties weren't your cup of tea, so you couldn't really say you wished you had gone. you were more of a homebody than you'd like to admit.

you eventually got to miles' story. all he had posted was a single picture of him and his group of friends, and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves. seeing your boyfriend happy made you happy. you smiled to yourself before switching to your messages app. you had notifications from both miles and your friends who were also at the halloween party. you opened miles’ messages first.

9:37pm

miles: hey ma (9:37 pm) miles: i know you’re probably sleeping right now, but i wanted to lyk that i got here okay (9:37 pm) miles: i’m with my friends (9:38 pm) miles: ima go now but i love you 💗 i’ll text you soon (9:39 pm)

10:23 pm

miles: yooo just checking in 🙌 miss you a lot (9:36 pm) miles: hope you’re enjoying that nap ❤️❤️(9:37 pm)

you: hey i’m up now 😈😈 (10:52 pm) you: i saw your ig story 🙃 looks like you guys are having fun so i’ll leave you to it (10:52 pm) you: text me later, i love you so much more 💓 (10:53 pm)

you swiped out of your text thread with miles and opened your group chat with your three best friends, sasha, lani, and nae. while you met sasha and lani not too long ago, you’ve known nae for damn near your entire life.

dollz 💘 9:13pm

sasha: how’s my bedridden baby? 🫶🫶 (9:13 pm)

lani: she’s been unconscious for mad long 👎(9:14 pm)

nae: we should ditch this party n go to her place instead i’m BOREDDD (9:16 pm) nae: and what if bro’s dead (9:16 pm)

jana: girl (9:20 pm) jana: she ain’t dead 🤦‍♀️ please. (9:21 pm)

sasha: ofc not (9:23 pm) sasha: nae's right.. this party lowk boring asf🧍‍♀️ can we leave soon? (9:25 pm)

jana: yes 💋 (9:25 pm)

nae: thought you’d never ask. (9:26 pm)

10:57pm

you: y’all i’m up damn! 😭 (10:57 pm) you: is it really that boring? miles seems to be having fun (10:57 pm)

nae: he buggin then cuz it's been like two hours and this party is STILL boring as shit (11:01 pm) nae: i tried to give it the benefit of the doubt but nvm. (11:01 pm) nae: my niece's fourth birthday party was x100 more turnt than this (11:02 pm) nae: i’m stuffing all the good snacks in my purse nd then we outta this bitch 🏃‍♀️ i’ll be in the car y’all (11:02 pm)

jana: bruh🧍‍♀️ (11:03 pm)

sasha: nae beloved, you already put hella snacks in the passenger seat (11:03 pm) nae: so? 🥱 (11:04 pm) sasha: you don’t need no more tf 😭😭 big backed hungry ass (11:04 pm)

you: yes she does (11:10 pm) you: she’s thinking of me, duh (11:11 pm)

sasha: damn you right.. maybe 🤷‍♀️ (11:15 pm) sasha: or maybe she'll eat up all the snacks and i'll laugh in your face and say i told you so 🤌 (11:16 pm)

jana: uh huh... anw girl can we come over? (11:18 pm)

you: i’d say yes but miles is coming over soon (11:21 pm) you: y’all can come over first thing tmrw morning tho 💋💋(11:21 pm)

right as you sent that message, your phone began to ring and you were met with your own puzzled reflection on the screen of your phone. it was a facetime call from nae. you couldn’t come up with a reason why she’d ever need to facetime you from a party when she could text or call. nevertheless, you picked up. you forced yourself up and out of you warmth of your bed, throwing your comforter and many, many blankets off of you.

you answered the facetime call as you turned the knob to your bedroom door to leave, making your way downstairs to the kitchen so you could raid the pantry for food. when nae’s face popped up on your screen, you noticed that the interior of sasha’s car surrounded her, but neither sasha or lani were anywhere to be found.

“hey danae, what’s up?” you said into the phone as you shut the microwave. you'd settled on instant ramen since you were feeling lazy. when you caught a glimpse of your best friend's face on your phone screen a second time, you clocked that she looked worried and that made you worried too. it didn't help that she was dead silent. you raised an eyebrow. “you alone? where’s lani and sasha?"

“something happened,” nae spoke slowly, disregarding your question. her eyes were bolting back and forth between her phone camera and sasha’s car window.

“what?” you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowing in concern. you set your phone down on the counter, propping your elbows onto the surface while you tried to decipher nae's expression, but that got you nowhere.

“i’m gonna send you something. just hold on a sec.”

“nae, what’s going on?” you inquired, a puzzled expression painting your face.

she didn’t reply. you pressed your lips into a thin line and closed your eyes in both confusion and frustration, strings of air passing through your nostrils. whatever nae was about to tell you was obviously nothing good. you didn't anticipate anything but the absolute worst. you opened your eyes again when your phone dinged. it was photo attachment from nae. you furrowed your brows blinked a few times before tapping it, pulling up you and your best friend's text thread. your entire body went limp when your brain registered the monstrosity on your screen. all you could do in the moment was stare in shock. it was a clear shot of miles and arielle at the party making out in some random bedroom upstairs. arielle who wouldn’t quit making moves on miles. miles who would shut down her pathetic attempts every time. arielle who’s always hated your guts without reason. miles who swore on everything that you were the only one he loved.

it was all so ironic, truly. arielle was dressed as an angel, a sparkly halo hovering above her head as if she wasn’t concomitantly sinning—shamelessly home-wrecking. and you could see it now: the embodiment of your relationship, or the so-called home you and your boyfriend shared. in your mind, it was ablaze and you were curled up all alone inside of it. you were left to succumb to the searing flames, burning to nothing ash while all that you and miles share burned beside you.

the boy would come home to the walls still burning and in the process of self-purging. he wouldn’t find you, rather the remnants of what used to be you. the ash would slip through his dirty, unfaithful fingers as they trembled in horror. he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. he’d desperately try to grasp you. he’d try to save you and scoop debris into his sweaty palms so he could salvage what was left of you. still, there was nothing. there wasn't a single thing in the universe that could aid the way you felt in that moment.

now, miles would have to mourn you, for he killed you. and he didn’t even know it yet.

your eyes were squeezed shut because they had to be deceiving you. you must not be fully awake yet. the medicine must be making you hallucinate. you were dreaming. you were a hundred percent dreaming. that wasn’t miles.

how could that be miles?

“i was looking for lani and found… them instead,” nae muttered. “i don’t know if he saw me take the picture, or what. i left to tell you right after.”

you swallowed hard. though a million different thoughts were racing through your mind, none of them came to be verbal. you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, because what do you even say when something like this happens? would anything you said be enough? would any quantity of words in any given order be able you place the way you felt? unlikely. highly.

your eyes continue you gape at the photo, even though the sight was making your stomach churn. you couldn’t look away. your eyes were fixed on miles' hands on arielle's hips, then her hands cupping his cheeks. nae was still on facetime explaining whatever it was she was explaining, but you weren’t listening. her words were static to your ears. there was a pit in your stomach and it was growing deeper and deeper, your wounded heart subsiding along with it. you set your phone face down on the kitchen counter and began to clutch your stomach. you swore you were going to convulse and vomit from how ill you felt.

“[name]!” nae snapped her fingers into the mic. “yo, you still with me? i’m coming over. i’m gonna call an uber right now.”

you blinked and shook your head, flipping your phone back over and taking a deep breath. you couldn’t just shut down, not now. you had something you needed to confront. someone.

“no,” you sniffled.

you didn’t even notice the hot tears rolling down your cheeks. you quickly swiped them away with the sleeve of miles’ hoodie. the realization that it was his hoodie you had on made you freeze up again for a few seconds, and then you buried your face in the palms of your hands.

“what do you mean ‘no?’” nae frowned, bringing the speaker up to her ear in case she heard you incorrectly.

your phone dinged three times. in your notification center were text messages from the devil himself.

miles: hey ma, i’m leaving now (11:25 pm) miles: the party was okay at first but it got boring (11:25 pm) miles: i’ll be there in like fifteen ❤️ (11:26 pm)

you just stared at the messages, biting your bottom lip until it began to draw blood as a plea for you to stop. the taste was metallic in your mouth, but your teeth didn’t budge. you didn't want miles over anymore, but it was far too late to tell him to turn around. it's not like he'd check his phone while he was driving, anyway.

“i keep losing you, girl."

you had forgotten all about nae for a second, her voice grounding you back to earth. you exhaled, your breath coming out unsteady. “miles is on his way over. after i talk to him, i’ll call you and you can come over then.”

“okay, babe,” nae nodded with a gentle sigh.

“do… lani and sasha know?” “no, they don’t,” nae denied. “i wouldn’t tell them before you.”

you pressed your lips together and silence engulfed your kitchen. you let your mind wander some more. after all this was over and done with, you'd have to explain to all of your loved ones that miles cheated on you. the very thought of having to tell everyone—your family, your friends, your dad—it embarrassed you. you couldn't stomach the very thought, so you exhaled deeply, opting to take it one step at a time. nae spoke again. “listen, if you don’t call or text me in, like, an hour, ima come over there.”

“okay," you nodded.

“remember that you deserve nothing but the best of the best. i love you so much, okay?”

“i know,” you tried to convene a smile. “i love you more.”

you hung up the phone and rid of any stray tears on your face. after nae's face vanished from your screen, you were left staring at you and your boyfriend's message thread. without putting much thought into it, you began to type.

‘cool, i’m jus—'

your fingers froze. you couldn’t text miles. he didn’t deserve anything so little as acknowledgment. you repeatedly hit backspace until the bar was blank and shut off your cell.

you sat idly on one of the kitchen stools behind the counter, your instant ramen long forgotten about. in the moment, you were feeling indifferent as a result of shock. still, you knew yourself better. when miles finally confessed his sins, you’d want to scream. you’d bombard him with a million questions at once, only to angrily invalidate any explanation that passed through his adulterous lips. you’d want to burn every handwritten love letter, every piece of clothing, and every gift, because they all meant nothing now.

he was a liar, and he knew it. if you could kill a man and face no consequences, miles might’ve been gone before he even walked through your door.

while you waited for him, you sat there and tortured yourself in thought. you couldn’t help it. was this planned? was this the first time? had he always thought of her like this? did he wish you were her when he was with you?

when you’d exhausted all of those questions, you began to think back to your own actions and behavior as you scrolled up on your texts with him.

maybe i said something that upset him? but i think he would've told me... right..? or have i been distant? no, that’s not possible. we talk every day. is he bored of me? is that it? am i boring? none of these texts are showing signs of boredom, so what is it?

you'd soon resorted to flipping through the pages in your diary. you were really good about documenting your day-to-day life. if something happened with miles in the past that your brain wouldn’t let you dig up in the moment, surely you would’ve written it there. the pad of your index finger slid across the rough pages as your anguished eyes skimmed the entries. ten minutes in, you still couldn’t find a thing. you'd give anything for a straightforward answer, but you knew it wasn't going to come from miles himself.

when you heard a key grinding into the keyhole of the front door, you slammed your diary shut and jumped off of the stool, knocking it over in the process. you sprinted upstairs to your bedroom, shoving the journal under your pillow. as you trailed out of your room, you closed the door behind you and braced yourself for the worst.

you shuffled back to the kitchen and picked up the stool from the floor, setting it upright. you caught a glimpse of miles unlacing his jordans at the front door. this was real.

“hey. i thought you’d still be in bed,” miles grinned as he approached you, spreading his arms for a hug. he wasn’t in his costume, but in a red hoodie and black sweats. he must’ve gone home to change. his costume probably smelled like arielle’s designer strawberry-scented perfume, the one everyone compliments her on. she never shuts up about it.

“hi,” you whispered, accepting his hug in an attempt to seem normal. “i was, but i got hungry. how was the party?”

miles smelled like his favorite cologne, except the scent was unusually potent. it wasn't faded in the slightest like it normally was after he'd been out and around other people. the deplorable amount of effort he was making just to mask the truth infuriated you. it angered you even more that he clearly wasn't planning on telling you anything. if you hadn't seen it yourself, you might've never known.

“it was ight,” he shrugged, loosening his grip on you after a couple of seconds. you hated yourself for wanting to hug him for just a little while longer. he sure as hell didn’t deserve it, but for all you knew, that was the last time you’d be in his embrace. he let his hands fall down to your waist instead and it made you shiver on contact knowing he had his hands on arielle's waist not even a full hour ago. “would’ve been better with you there, y’know. you feelin’ okay now?"

“mostly, yeah,” you responded blandly, your throat tight and your voice fairly groggy. “still a bit tired.”

you didn’t know how to bring it up. this wasn't something you could beat around the bush about. you found yourself deep in thought. so deep to the point where you didn't notice that miles had started talking. you were busy staring off into space with half-lidded eyes, way past his gaze. he clocked it and moved his head so that your eyes were boring into his by force, his eyebrows lowering in concern.

“is everything okay?”

you cleared your throat and gently pushed his arms off your waist, stepping back as you began to blink back tears. there was no easing into it. standing there in front of miles pretending like everything was okay was already bad enough. it felt like you were twisting the knife that he plunged into your chest. eyes glossy, you swallowed hard and batted your lashes a few more times, desperately trying to rid of the tears that threatened to spill.

“i know you kissed arielle at the party,” you barely managed to speak the full sentence, your voice cracking when you spoke her name. “and i’m confused.”

miles’ eyebrows knitted to be one as if this news stunned him. you wished you could hear all his thoughts from start to finish after you spoke. you wanted to know whether he was planning to lie or tell the truth. would he gaslight you or admit to his wrongdoings? you wouldn’t find out now because you didn’t give him an option. this already hurt enough and it would end the same either way.

“nae told me. and she sent me pictures.”

silence fell between the two of you. it felt like it was eating you from the inside. the chirping of the crickets outside and the noise from the refrigerator running slightly compensated for it. not much.

“i just wanna know why you did it. and why her? why the girl that hates me with every last atom in her body?” you broke the silence, shrugging your shoulders. you were hugging your arms, rubbing them in an up-and-down motion as if you were cold.

miles was dumbfounded, guilt painting his features. he couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. you wondered what you would say if you were in his shoes, but it didn’t give you any insight because you knew you'd never do this to him, so you gave up. instead, you stared at the neat middle part in between his two signature braids that cascaded down the back of his head, down to his shoulders. you’d braided his hair only a couple days ago, back when nothing seemed impossible—nothing like now.

though he wasn’t, miles’ hair still looked clean, freshly done even. what if arielle had redone his braids for him? she did say she was practicing, and she'd made it a goal to practice on him. you mentally cursed yourself for worrying about something as minuscule as miles' braids at a time like this. you didn't want to give yourself another reason to freak, but your brain wouldn’t let you rest. not even in silence. if miles wasn’t going to give you an answer, you’d send him on his way and come up with one by yourself.

“i don’t know why i did it,” he finally retorted.

“oh, word?” you laughed humorlessly. you were trying not to slap the hell out of his shamefully beautiful face. “it happened not even two hours ago. you know why you did it. your memory is sharp, it always has been, so tell me.”

miles exhaled, rubbing the palm of his hand on his forehead. “look, she came onto me while i was grabbing a soda. it was a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing! it didn’t mean any—“

“that’s what they all say, morales,” you cut him off with a scoff. “it didn’t mean anything but somehow you traveled from the kitchen downstairs to a spare bedroom upstairs so you could swap spit without anyone catching you?!” miles tried to speak, but you cut him off again. “were you even gonna tell me? because you came up in here acting like shit was sweet as if you weren’t just making out with the girl you swore i’d never have to worry about, meanwhile, i was home, sick! a fucking cold, miles!”

“i wasn’t gonna keep it to myself. i didn’t wanna hurt you,” miles said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “it wasn’t gonna happen again, i swear.”

none of the words miles spoke were convincing enough for you in the slightest, so you disregarded them.

“did i do something to you? are you holding a grudge about something and trying to get me back?!” you yelled, your voice trembling.

“no, it has nothing to do with you!” he hollered back, squeezing his eyes shut as if he was stressed out. he had no right.

“so then why the fuck would you go and do this shit?!” you were silent for a few seconds, chest heaving up and down while your heart beat out of your chest. your breath was sprinting away from you and you were trying to catch it. "it's bad enough that you kissed another girl, but arielle?"

miles pleaded, “it was a mistake.”

“damn right it was!” you narrowed your eyes to slits. “i can’t believe i trusted you, like, seriously. you’re sick.”

“i let you down, princessa, i know, i’m—“

“sorry?” you finished his sentence, folding your arms. you were far more angry than sad now. “miles, you weren’t sorry when you were kissing her. don’t be sorry now either. you were gonna kiss me with her bright pink lipgloss dried on your lips like it was nothing. you were gonna sit here and play me like i'm stupid. you were never gonna tell me!”

miles couldn’t counter that. he knew you were right, so it was back to uncomfortable silence apart from your hefty breathing and sniffles. miles had never seen you so angry. you'd never seen yourself so angry. there was no one else to blame but miles. you had no idea where to go from there. it was only after you asked the question that you were about to ask on impulse that you realized you should’ve wrapped this up many minutes before.

“is this the only time this has happened?”

miles was hesitant, his eyes growing wider. “yes!” he spat.

miles had a tell—not just his disinclination to answer your question the way he normally would, but also the way his eyebrows would position as if he wasn’t so sure himself. his teeth would clench behind his sealed lips, but you could tell because his jaw was tight and he swallowed hard, and he wouldn’t know what to do with his hands.

you knew all of this about miles, yet you felt like you were gazing into the eyes of a stranger.

this wasn’t the miles you fell in love with.

you muttered under your breath, “you know what? i’m wasting your time... and my own. you won’t have an answer that’s both truthful and something i wanna hear. we’re done, you and i. give me the key and get the hell out.”

“mami, come on—“

“nigga, deuces! i said leave!” you snapped as you backed away from him, holding your hand out.

miles dug deep in the right pocket of his black sweats, handing you the key. you flinched when your skin made contact with his. you didn't hesitate to trap the key in the palm of your hand, dropping your arm back down by your side. miles sighed to himself and trudged to the door to lace his shoes back up. you didn't even watch him leave, opting to turn around and battle the tears threatening to spill from your eyes instead. when you finally heard the front door shut, you rushed to lock it. you turned around and pressed your back to the door, face twisted in pure disbelief.

this was real.

you slid down to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest, your cries echoing through your empty house. you’d never been more grateful that your father was gone for the weekend. miles wouldn’t have heard the end of it. at least now you had time to make up some lie to cover for miles' ass, and it'd be the last damn time.

not even five minutes passed before someone knocked on the front door three times and you sniffled. miles was going to drive you insane. “go the fuck away!”

“it’s me, baby,” a muffled voice said from outside, but it’s one you recognize, and it’s most definitely not miles.

you wiped your tears with the sleeve of miles’ hoodie and stood up, twisting the lock to open the door for your best friend. she was holding a box of pizza in her hand with a tote bag strap over her shoulder.

“you’re early,” you mumbled, one of your hands pressed against the rim of the door.

“i ubered home and got my car. when i got here, i just parked and waited,” nae pushed past you. you closed the door and locked it again, following her to the kitchen, where she set the box of pizza down on the countertop. “you wouldn’t have called me either way. i know you.”

she was right. you weren’t mad at her for being there though. she had always been so good to you.

nae walked over to the dining table and placed her tote bag in one of the chairs. “i brought your favorite type of pizza, and i stopped by the store to grab some snacks and soda. those are still in my car though, so—”

“i don’t think i can stomach anything right now,” you stated as you rubbed your arm. “i broke up with miles.”

saying that out loud felt weird. and final.

“oh, my love,” nae’s brows lowered and she shuffled over to you with open arms. she wrapped them around you and you did the same, sighing into her shoulder. you really didn't want to cry.

it hadn’t been long and you were already over feeling the way you did. you wanted to fast forward to the part where you got over miles for good. as an attempt to console you, nae was rubbing your back in a circular motion.

“you did the right thing,” she spoke lowly.

you withdrew from the hug and slightly opened your mouth, fixing to ask nae a question only god knew how to answer. “why did he do it though?”

she led you to the couch in your living room and sat you down, massaging her thumb over yours in a back-and-forth motion as your hand stayed clasped in hers. you stared down at your lap, sniffling every couple of seconds and swiping away stray tears.

“boys are just greedy, babe,” she shook her head. “so very greedy. they want it all. there are so many different reasons why people cheat. it’s difficult to pinpoint just one. my random guess is that… miles has issues?"

“issues?”

“mm-hmm,” she hummed. “internally. maybe he's insecure about himself, i don't know. whatever it is, it doesn’t justify infidelity. you were more than enough, it was him who was lacking."

“i don't get it. i mean, none of this makes any sense… unless i'm blind or stupid, it came out of nowhere. literal thin air. and when i asked, he said he didn't know why he kissed her,” you muttered.

nae sighed. “even if he isn't lying, he still did it.”

“i know,” you nodded. “and i'm sure it wasn't the first time. that’s why i left him.”

“and i’m so proud of you for that,” nae gave your hand a tight squeeze. “walking away isn’t easy for anyone. it takes forever for some people, but you did it just like that.”

“yeah, well, i kinda had to. it’s bad enough that arielle is gonna rub it in my face until we graduate, and even after that, she’ll probably find a way to .”

“there won’t be any of that,” nae promised. “miles isn’t going to take her seriously—if he even takes her at all. he lost you because of what he did with that bitch. he won’t even be able to look at her without feeling guilty.”

“she can have him, i don’t care either way,” you scoffed. that was a lie. you did care. you cared more than you’d let on if you ever even admit it.

“yeah, you do,” nae raised an eyebrow as if she had effortlessly read your mind. “let yourself feel. it’s how you’ll heal.”

“oh, i’m feeling alright. i’m weighing the pros and cons of murder,” you shakily exhaled, balling up your fists and closing your eyes. “i can’t believe this nigga. seriously.”

“i’d help you, but i’m not going to jail for him and neither are you.”

you let out a soft sigh, your gaze now fixed on your lap. the tears welling up in your eyes were beginning to cloud your vision. how someone could throw away so many years of loving one another so easily was so far beyond you.

“nae, i’ve been with miles for so long. he’s always been there—i don’t know how to be without him. he’s why i gave love a chance after swearing not to... now he’s shattered my perception of it. the worst part is i should hate him, but i don't. somehow, i still love him and—”

“hey,” nae cut you off. “that’s normal. how you feel is normal.”

you sniffled. “is it?"

“pshh, girl, yeah,” nae assured you, flicking out her wrist. “listen, breakups are terrible. you’re gonna cry and scream. you’re gonna wish you never met him. you’re going to go through old texts, swipe through old photos, and mope in his hoodies. all of that is okay. the worst thing you could ever do to yourself is force yourself not to feel,” nae paused. “if this is who he really is, then it's not your loss. i know it doesn't feel like that right now, but trust me... it just takes time. i don't know how long, but i know my best friend, so no matter how long it takes, you’ll be better than good without miles. i promise." "i'm still gonna miss him," you muttered, sniffling and drying your tears as they fell. nae wrapped her arm around you and exhaled. you sobbed into her shoulder, releasing all the pent-up frustration you'd been concealing in the name of keeping your cool. you'd never felt so inconsolable in your life. "i know, babe. i know."

❤︎₊ ⊹

it was late. 3:28am. time had never moved so slowly. you were genuinely considering calling 911 and telling them you were suffering from a heart attack. you were thoroughly convinced that this was damn near the same exact thing.

the moon wasn’t full tonight, but a waning crescent. it reflected you and how soulless and dejected you felt. the moonshine bleeding through your curtains was also the only source of light you would tolerate, the rest of your bedroom completely dark. you lay on your side facing the window, allowing the icy gusts of wind to hit your face. you were practically drowning in a sea of blankets all while still being in miles’ black hoodie.

nae was gone. she’d left about two hours ago, but not before suffocating you in countless hugs and forcing you to eat a slice of pizza and drink two glasses of water, despite your not wanting to ingest anything due to your unwavering nausea. you told her you’d be okay alone. you knew you wouldn’t and so did she, but you wanted to be alone, so she gave you your space and promised to check in on you when the sun rose. you loved nae dearly and you'd never take her for granted. you felt lucky to have such a kindhearted best friend.

you'd been in a 1v1 with your thoughts for a while now. your phone was powered off and shut away in one of your nightstand drawers to help resist urges. you hated that you wanted to call miles, but you did. you wanted to scream at him. belittle him until you just couldn’t anymore. and you wanted him to sit there and watch you do it without protest. you wanted him to be honest and tell you the truth. you wanted him to promise it would never happen again, and then you wanted to curl up under the covers of your bed with him and sob in his arms while he planted kisses on your forehead, apologizing profusely. you wanted him to tell you he loved you until you believed it again.

you couldn’t do any of that—you wouldn’t. it’d mean you have no respect for yourself. it felt like you hardly had any now, so you needed to keep the scarce amount that remained.

your thoughts were blank and sporadic all at once. you’d never been through a breakup, but you had a rough idea of how these things go, so you spent some time mapping it out in your head.

you'd eventually have to meet up to exchange one another's belongings. maybe rio would apologize on miles’ behalf and say she’d always love you. she’d call you a couple times a week. the calls would eventually come slower and grow more infrequent. soon, the calls wouldn’t come at all. even if there was the acknowledgment that rio’s arms were always open for you, they’d still feel closed. you'd treat them as such.

you'd barely eat because you couldn't stomach a single thing. you'd rot in your bed and binge all your favorite movies and shows. you'd go to war with the urge to run back to miles. you'd read old diary entries where you were gushing about how much you loved him and how amazing he was to you. you'd look back at old photos and videos. you'd reread old texts until you were sobbing so hard that you couldn't breathe.

you'd write letters that nobody was ever going to see and all the tears you shed would smudge the black ink and ruin your fancy penmanship. you'd lie to your dad and tell him that your relationship had just run its course and that you and miles needed to work on yourselves. your friends would check in on you, and of course, you'd tell them that you were okay every time, even if that was the furthest from that.

word gets around fast. when this dreadful weekend was over and monday crept up on you, you'd have to return to school and deal with the piercing stares and shameless gossip. you weren't ready for any of it, because now, everyone at school would know you as the girl who got cheated on by her long-term boyfriend for arielle. rumors would spread. words would be twisted and lies would be told, both about you and miles. in retrospect, it was all the more embarrassing for miles, but you still felt utterly humiliated. not to mention that you had no doubt in your mind that arielle was ready to run to his defense, preferably by kicking you when you're down.

sometimes, just for a fleeting moment, you'd forget about it all and your mind would go quiet. your heart wouldn't swell in longing and you wouldn't feel sick to your stomach. it never did last long before the same thoughts you desperately wanted to leave you alone started to pester you again. "but you two seemed so in love!" nosy girls at your school masking their prying motives behind what they thought were "supportive words" would soon tell you. the worst part is that you'd never know how to respond, because you thought you and miles were in love too. he was your sun and you were his moon. how could you so quickly forget that the sun didn't need the moon to shine, it was the other way around? you thought it was and always would be your heart tethered to his, but now you were left with a broken chain and a heartache.

you thought things would be different with miles. you truly did. now you knew that anyone could screw you over even if they crossed their heart. there weren't any exceptions, not anymore. miles proved that you can do everything right and still get done wrong. it wasn't fair. you should've known you weren't exempt from something like this happening, yet you still let yourself believe you were. maybe you jinxed it, or maybe you thought your case was special. maybe you thought this would never happen because you believed you were special. you only did because he made you feel that way.

you were sick and tired of brooding over your misfortune. you rolled onto your back with a frustrated groan and gaped at your ceiling, the cold air from outside still blowing against the side of your face. as exhausted as you were, sleep just wouldn't grant you sanction in its assuaging embrace.

what hurt the most is that you were so sure that you'd bagged a kind of love that was for the books. the kind of love you thought you could only dream about. though you weren't searching for him, the stars sent you miles morales. in your eyes, he was perfect. you loved and adored him, and swore he was your soulmate, made just for you. he was godsent and you never wanted to let him go, until tonight, when you learned that you were never the one who needed to hold on to begin with.

you came to the humbling conclusion that maybe the reason people told tales of faultless love was because real love was far too sickening to bear. it was merely a way to cope. nothing more, nothing less. maybe "happily ever after" had been a hoax all along. all the fairytales you had read growing up always began with “once upon a time”, but your story with miles ended with it, because loving him was easy—once upon a time.

maliland ©

#heavensent 🪽#miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles g morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles x reader #spiderman #miles morales x black!reader #e 42 miles morales x reader #e 42 miles x black!reader #miles morales #itsv #atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #black fem reader

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aikuse · 5 months ago

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-> be gentle with me | 994 words. gn!reader, pet names (babe), post-sex conversations, tsugeura is a sweetheart, comfort, painful sex.

author’s notes: i feel like i haven’t written ✨realistic✨ sex in a hot min, and as someone who has newly encountered not being able to orgasm as much as i used to barring specific circumstances, i feel like tsugeura would be so sweet about it all. <3

The huff that falls from your lips perks Tsugeura up without even realizing it.

“Somethin’ wrong, babe?” he rasps, eyes large as he sits up on his forearms, dried sweat still shining on his chest. Your bottom lip is almost raw from how much you’re digging into it with your teeth, because admitting the truth of the matter feels so much worse than simply lying and putting on a smile and going “nothing”.

Because your insides ached. More than usual.

He doesn’t know that, why would he? You’d been gripping him so well, you’d been so wet for him that he couldn’t have really known how much it had hurt. You were his first, after all; his first and most difficult to comfort in this way. You hated letting him know; you’ve been so obsessed with being perfect for him, with being his perfect first experience, that you’d ended up sacrificing your comfort in the process.

The saving grace is Tsugeura himself.

He’ll never stop at attempting to please you. He learns quickly, with you directing him around, but sometimes he’s too enthusiastic. Sometimes it’s more for his sake than your own; and that’s fine, you don’t mind pleasuring him. Seeing his eyes screw shut as he comes hard down your throat is enough for you, or watching his face contort as his balls become flush with your ass.

Sometimes it’s easier to push through it.

“I, uhm…” you trail off, your throat closing up. You can feel your vision begin to swim, as hot tears prick against your eyes. Tsugeura is there in a moment, scooping you to him, pressing your head to his chest, cooing in your ear that it’s okay, you can tell me anything. It’s okay.

“I don’t want to ruin your afterglow—”

His snort shakes you out of your imminent breakdown.

“Afterglow? The fuck? That’s some poetic shit, babe. Don’t worry, you couldn’t ruin anything for me even if ya wanted to.”

You giggle. It’s watery. He’s so blunt, so all-encompassing and loud and brave just for you. So ready to meet you where you are. You take a deep breath, feeling a horrible cramp twist in your stomach. Now that the numbness of your orgasm has worn off, the pain is setting in.

“It hurt.”

“What hurt?”

His answer is quick, faster than you were expecting. You avoid his gaze, looking down at his abdominals and tracing your nail across them. You don’t answer right away; your throat feels even tighter, even more stress rising in your chest. Instead, you hiccup, and tears begin to fall down your cheeks, landing and sliding down his chest.

Taiga has never been one to take silence for an answer. You know this well, and it doesn’t surprise you when he grips your chin and forces you to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“What hurt, babe?” he repeats, including the pet name to help your rising stress. He hates seeing you cry, he’s told you so many times; and it’s not out of hatred of emotion, much like some of the other men you’ve been with. He hates seeing you cry when it’s his fault. Especially when you get too scared to tell him what’s truly wrong.

But this time, it floods out of you. The gates are open without you even realizing.

“W-When you…when you went really deep, and you…and you asked me if I liked it, I…well…I may have lied to you.”

The silence this time around is so much thicker that you wrench your face away from his hand, hiccups and cries louder now as the guilt of what you’ve said weighs so heavily on your shoulders. Another cramp twists in your stomach, and you wince.

But Tsugeura has never backed down when you’re like this.

He scoffs this time, maneuvering your body till you’re sitting on his lap, facing him and unable to turn away.

“Hey,” he whispers, his hand once again grabbing your chin, his other wiping your tears away, “it’s okay.”

You’re babbling. “No, it’s not. I-I should’ve said something, I should’ve told you to stop, I—”

Tsugeura’s face is so loving. So full of affection that you don’t deserve. “I know how scared ya are to say that sometimes, babe. It’s okay. Promise, okay? Promise.”

You sniffle. “B-But I need to be better with telling you, I just don’t know how to say it sometimes and I’m so lost when you’re fucking me like that, and I—”

He laughs then, a full-body laugh that vibrates through his whole body. It stops you right in your tracks, tears drying on your cheeks as you all but stare at him. “What’s- What’s so funny?” you say, your tone sharp, and he looks up at you with stars in his eyes.

“So y’re sayin’ ya forget t’ tell me it hurts because I’m fuckin’ ya so good?”

“Tsuge!” you exclaim, your mood completely switched to one of embarrassment. His laughter gets even louder as he brings you to his chest, pressing kisses between chuckles. Your face is so warm as you try to hide behind your hands. “It’s just…I need a better way of telling you.”

He nods as he kisses your forehead. “We can do that, babe. What do ya need?”

You shrug, sitting up again. “Maybe finger taps? Or a safe word? I don’t know—”

His nails dig into your sides from where they’ve landed. “Let’s try all of it. Promise I’ll pay more attention to ya, babe. ‘S just, ya feel so good that sometimes I jus’ forget, yknow?”

You hum, seeing a chance to redeem yourself. “Yeah?” you smirk, his eyes going wide as you roll your hips gently against him, “You just forget how to act when you’re inside this tight pussy?”

His eyes narrow, his hands even more firm against you. “Careful,” he warns, “or I might hafta get back in there and remember how that tight pussy feels.”

divider credit: @/cafekitsune networks: @interstellar-inn @themovingcastlez

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

#taiga tsugeura x reader #tsugeura taiga x reader #taiga tsugeura smut #tsugeura taiga smut #ari's autographs

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theharrowing · 1 year ago

Text

Collateral 19: The only lifestyle I have ever known

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon, Jungkook x Female Reader, Jungkook x Taehyung

🗡️ word count: 18.6

🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+

🗡️ warnings: tickling, semi-public quickie, handsy creep makes mc spiral, playful possessiveness, feelings as messy as mc's panties are after letting 3 men cum inside her, threats from a fresh face, graphic violence and gore (gun fire, mc wields a gun and a knife, man's head go boom-splat, major character injury, panic attack & blind rage, mc's body count increases from 1 to 2, yoongi gets his scar.)

🗡️ note: these warnings are serious!!! heed them!!! take them seriously!!! on a lighter note, pretend everyone's hair is correct in the mood board ok lolol also yes that is Bibi, who is called Hyungseo in this chapter.

🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin! and shout out to @colormepurplex2 for putting some blood on our kitten's face for this mood board!! i appreciate you both!!! 💜

🗡️ posted on august 2023 | read on ao3

Waking up between Yoongi and Namjoon again is akin to waking from a dream only to find yourself in an even better dream. You roll onto your side toward Yoongi, who sleeps on his back, and you nuzzle into him, wrapping every limb around his body as tightly as you can. Yoongi grumbles and tenses before he relaxes, and then he turns onto his side and tangles his limbs in response, reaching a leg and arm past you to the sweating body on the other side.

You used to hate it when partners would try to hold you in the morning, ripping you from blissful unconsciousness into the waking world with their stinky breath and sweaty skin. With a grumble and a shove, you would always break free and twist to your side, wrapped in your blanket alone.

But Yoongi and Namjoon are your home. Their heavy bodies and warm morning breath ease you into the day, wrapping you in a loving embrace that you hate to have to break free of.

And just when you close your eyes and sigh into the feeling of Namjoon curling against your back, outlining the shape of your body perfectly with his, a phone ringtone blares, causing the three of you to groan and sign in tandem.

"Fuck," Yoongi mutters, leaning to kiss you on the forehead before slowly dragging his limbs away from the tangle, muttering lowly as his shrill ringtone disturbs the peace.

"Who the fuck is already calling you?" Namjoon complains against your shoulder, wrapping around you tighter as Yoongi's warmth disappears.

Yoongi's response is incomprehensible raspy nonsense, and then the sound ends just as he mutters, "Yes?"

After a pause, Yoongi grumbles, "Seokjin-ssi, I am offended that you thought I would forget. Of course, we will be there tomorrow evening. Alright, talk to you later."

The sound of the phone clattering against Yoongi's nightstand follows a sigh, and Yoongi rolls back into his rightful place, wedging your face against nude pecs while he reaches over you to give Namjoon's lifted face a kiss.

The two of them groan, squeezing you between firm, increasingly hot bodies, and you begin to shove at Yoongi's shoulders, fighting for your life, grumbling, "You're suffocating me, you idiots!"

"You're just jealous Joonie got the first good morning kiss," Yoongi teases, backing up before bending down to plant his lips against yours.

"No morning breath kisses!" you attempt to complain through lips pulled tightly together, shoving Yoongi away despite loving the soft press of his mouth against you.

"Was Seokjin reminding you of the gala?" Namjoon asks just as Yoongi decides to begin tickling you, which has you screaming and pushing him away with flailing limbs.

"He was," Yoongi grits as you manage to plant both hands firmly on his chest and shove hard enough to topple him momentarily back. He pounces once more, flinging his entire body over yours, and Namjoon manages to get your left hand held down, then reaches over you to pin down your right arm, filling your senses with his delightfully stinky musk.

"You monsters!" you scream with your arms awkwardly pinned beside your head, uselessly flailing your legs while Yoongi sits and dances his fingertips over your ribs. "I'll kill you both!"

"Awe, our little wolf is threatening us with murder," Namjoon teases, "as if she has it in her to kill another man."

"Especially two as handsome as us," Yoongi adds, lightning up on tickling enough to make you open your eyes and watch him waggle his eyebrows.

As soon as Yoongi's fingers touch down on your ribs once more, your eyes squeeze shut, and you squeal, "Your looks won't save you from my wrath if you don't release me!"

"Awe your wrath," Namjoon teases, and his hot, stinky breath wafts as he leans close. "How adorable."

"I watched you torture a man, I know how to do it, now," you grit through your teeth, swaying your body left to right hard, hoping to throw Yoongi off. "Maybe Taehyung will teach me how to use his katana."

"Graduating from dagger to katana," Yoongi drawls playfully. "How quaint."

Namjoon adds, "But our sweetheart has never seen me with a sword before," piquing your interest despite how you fight for your life.

Each breath heaves from your lungs, pained laughter coming out in exhausted bursts against your will; if you could control your laughter to not give these jerks the satisfaction, you would. Nothing about the hellish feeling of being tickled is actually funny.

In a burst of genius, you scream, "Sakura!"

Yoongi sighs and halts his fingers, and when you open your eyes, he tongues the inside of his mouth.

"That was a dirty move but also a wise one," Yoongi mutters, clearly as amused as he is annoyed. "Nice work, darling."

"So, did you forget about Seokjin's event?" Namjoon asks as Yoongi leans forward, caging your head with his hands and smiling sweetly at you. You attempt to catch your breath, still panting from the onslaught.

"I did," Yoongi responds, grinning.

You roll your eyes and begin to laugh, and Namjoon releases your hands finally and wiggles back into a laying position beside you, laughing as well. "I want to sleep more," he grumbles as he throws a leg over your legs and snuggles up to your side, close enough to your armpit to make you jerk when he speaks because every tiny sensation still tickles.

"More sleep sounds nice," Yoongi mutters, leaning close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to your eyebrow, and to your temple, before laying back down.

You begin to grumble that you would also love to sleep but that Yoongi has woken you up with all of his rambunctious behavior. But as limbs settle over and around you, and you become sandwiched once more between the two of them, heaviness claims your eyelids, and you begin to drift off.

When you wake up again, it is from Namjoon peeling out of the tangle. You grumble and roll toward him, attempting to reach out and bring his warmth back to you. Yoongi wraps around your back, humming something unintelligible into the nape of your neck before his breathing evens out and he is back asleep. You close your eyes and allow yourself to drift once more, stirred only by the feeling of Yoongi peeling away.

The sun is bright by the time you wake up for good, flooding into the room, causing you to squint as you stretch and yawn, slowly flailing your limbs in the large, empty bed.

"Where is everyone going?" you grumble, peeking one eye open to find a tuft of dark, wavy hair sticking out from the closet. Yoongi's smile is almost as bright as the afternoon sun, tugging at your heart.

He responds, "Work, darling," with a smirk, then disappears back into the closet.

"Ugh!" you complain, petulant. If Yoongi and Namjoon go to work, who will be around to hug and kiss and spoil you? "Work is stupid!"

"You should go to Paradise!" Yoongi calls from the closet.

You should go to Paradise. It has been several nights since you last visited, and you miss Jimin and Hyejin. And, if you are being perfectly honest, you miss Jeongguk. Jeongguk will certainly give you plenty of attention to make up for what you are missing from the other two, but you worry just a little that desiring and receiving it from him may make you greedy.

"You just want to shove me off onto Jeongguk," you whine, teasingly.

Yoongi chuckles as he exits the closet, buttoning a black shirt that is tucked into black slacks. "Are you upset about that?"

With a pout, you sit up and whine, "I guess not," making Yoongi laugh so hard that he stomps one of his feet. Since coming home, there is a lightness to Yoongi that you are certain you have never seen before. He laughs so openly and with his whole body, sometimes flinging himself all the way to the floor, onto his knees. It is so nice; he truly seems happy.

"Namjoon and I have a meeting today that may take several hours," Yoongi begins as he approaches, still smiling but no longer laughing. "Then I have to take one of our potential clients to dinner and for drinks. She is an old investor and was a good friend of my mother, and she has her sights on one of my hotels. After we schmooze and convince her to open her pocketbook, we will come by the club. Sound good?"

You hum and nod, considering what you might wear to Paradise while scooting toward the edge of the bed, wearing only one of Namjoon's oversized shirts.

"What if Jeongguk seduces me?" you ask with a raise of your brow, biting back a smile when Yoongi gives you an incredulous little smirk of his own.

He gets close, resting his hands on the edge of the bed, caging you in. Yoongi is musky and sweet, and you lean in close, holding firm eye contact and basking in his bouquet.

"Do you want to fuck Jeongguk again?" he asks low and curious.

Goosebumps cover you, sending a thrill along your spine, and you bite your lip, batting your lashes while pretending to consider his proposition.

"I don't know," you say, attempting to sound coy. "Maybe."

Yoongi hums, deep and slow, leaning close enough that his breath is warm on your face. "Well, then if he seduces you, you should let him have you."

"You don't mind?" you ask softly, genuinely concerned about crossing some sort of line, should something happen while he is away.

"As long as you are happy and communicate openly, I do not mind."

Unsure what to say, you hum in response. You want to kiss Yoongi until you are dizzy, but you worry about your breath being sour and keep your lips closed tight. Yoongi leans and kisses you on your temple, eyebrow, and cheek, then straightens out.

"If you wanted to shoot me a text and let me know, I would not object," he says with a waggle of his brow, making you giggle.

You lift a hand and gently shove at his shoulder, teasing, "You just want to picture me getting fucked, you pervert."

"Of course I do," Yoongi rasps, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before standing up straight. With a wink, he adds, "Don't be shy, pretty darling."

The moment you step foot into Paradise, Jimin prances over with a warm smile and his arms open wide. He wears a satin black shirt tucked into black slacks, and his boots click-clack in a familiar song.

As soon as he wraps his arms around your neck, he begins to jump, and you do your best to jump along with him, feeling stunned that he is this happy to see you. "I have a surprise," he sing-songs, drawing the word long and happily, and you do your best to reciprocate his hug before he pulls away.

"You can't see it until your birthday, but I have been working hard on something," he continues, still hopping around now that you are no longer embracing.

Although your approaching birthday has been in the back of your mind, this is the first time it has felt like a tangible event. You blurt out, "How did you know my birthday is coming up," feeling anxiety and excitement swell behind your ribs.

"Oh, please," Jimin mutters, rolling his eyes. "Yoongi has not shut up about it for over a month. He has been very insistent that we throw you an extravagant party; why do you think renovations on this place happened so fucking fast?"

Stunned and so dreadfully in love, all you can do is stare at Jimin as the words sink. You cannot believe that Yoongi has been in cahoots with the guys for over a month, and he has not let it slip at all to you. This means that even before the trips to Paris and Hong Kong, he must have been beginning to plan something.

"Renovations—" you mutter, mouth opening and closing until all you can say is, "Wait, what?"

"You silly little dove," Jimin teases, booping you on the nose with one of his manicured fingers. "You really have no idea what you have done to this man, do you?"

You knit your brow and slowly shake your head, and Jimin's smile widens.

"Being with you has changed him. It's noticeable."

Stuck like a deer in headlights, you stand and stare at Jimin, attempting to process his words. Sure, Yoongi was a little gruff and not always the most friendly person to be around when you were first brought to the mansion—even in moments when he was being kind—but you had assumed he behaves that way any time new people are brought around.

Jimin giggles, leans in, and plants a glossy kiss on your cheek. Then he walks away, clearly amused, and you continue to stare for another moment until a familiar floral musk breaks your spell, alerting you to the presence of a certain someone.

Truth be told, you have been a bit nervous in anticipation of seeing Jeongguk again. Especially since Yoongi has given you the green light to play around with him—provided Taehyung has done the same. Rather than turn around and greet him, you take a fortifying breath and wait for him to make the first move; it never takes long for him to.

"Dollface," his voice greets slow and deep and so close to your ear that you actually gasp despite already being aware of his proximity. "My, do you look ravishing this evening."

Warmth floods your cheeks; you dressed in a black mesh corset top tucked into fitted black slacks tonight specifically in the hope that Jeongguk would get an eyeful and want to bend you over Jimin's desk. The black material that covers your breasts is thin, and embroidered into the ribbed black mesh of the top are little black dragons that remind you of Namjoon's tattoo. It leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Tilting your head toward his voice, you mutter, "Thank you," surprising yourself by just how shy you suddenly feel.

"There's something I need to discuss with you," Jeongguk says. The feeling of two warm hands gently gripping your bare forearms causes you to let out a shaky exhale. "Come to one of the private rooms with me?"

The private dance rooms are all equipped with cameras, making your anxiety spike higher, but you nod and allow him to give you a gentle push through the club, to the hallway. The sound of his and your black leather boots clacking against the floor is surprisingly loud under the bass-heavy club beat, ricocheting through your mind while the music thrums just under your skin.

Once the two of you enter the hallway, you turn your head, finally getting a glance of black satin almost entirely unbuttoned, tucked into black slacks. You attempt to sound innocent as you ask, "What is it you would like to discuss?"

The chuckle that greets you in response is sardonic and inviting, and you continue to look ahead until Jeongguk places a hand on your arm and guides you through a door on the left.

The room is rather small, with a round mirrored table and metal dancing poll taking up most of the space. Surrounding the table is a deep green velvet horseshoe couch with thick, rounded arms and backrest. You walk over to stand near the side of the couch and lean against it while the door closes and locks behind you. Instinctively, you glance up at the camera and stare, wondering if it is a coincidence that there is no little red light flashing; it must not be recording, after all.

"Don't worry, doll," Jeongguk says with a grin as he approaches, "I shut that camera off."

"Is that so?" you ask with a slight tremble in your voice.

Jeongguk is stunning with his dark hair coiffed off his forehead. He has a light dusting of black powder around his eyes accentuating just how dangerous they are, and as your gaze travels down to the mess of silver chains draped around his neck, and lower, to the exposed valley of his chest, you do your best not to swoon.

"Yoongi hyung sent me a very interesting text this evening," Jeongguk responds with a lift of his pierced eyebrow.

You attempt to sound as if you have no idea what he might be talking about as you ask, "He did?"

Jeongguk hums and closes in slowly, causing your pulse to quicken gradually with each step he takes. "He did."

You swallow thickly, tilting your head. "And what did it say?"

The grin returns as Jeongguk slides a tattooed hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He thumbs around one-handed for a moment, then reads, "Our little darling has the green light to play around with you," He glances up and adds, "Discreetly, of course."

"Of course," you mutter softly.

Jeongguk slides his phone back into his pocket. "How are you feeling today?" he asks, voice sweeter than you expect.

Unsure exactly what he might be asking, you fumble, saying, "G-good. I feel good."

Jeongguk lifts his hands and places them on your biceps, then slowly rubs down to your elbows and back up. "Not too sore?"

Ah, of course, that is what he is asking. You did feel the aftermath of him fucking your brains out when you woke up this morning, but it eased throughout the day. Although you are certain that if he slid his thick, pretty cock back inside, your walls would ache. The thought alone has you fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs together.

"No," you respond, wetting your lips and watching as Jeongguk's eyes follow the movement.

Jeongguk's hands slide down past your hands, then he hooks both index fingers into the waistband of your slacks and says, "We have to be quick, but I could be gentle with you, just in case."

He leans in and stops with his lips so close to yours that the slightly sweet whiskey-hinted scent of his breath joins his already enticing fragrance. You want to close the gap and claim his lips, but you wait, staring into his deep, round eyes.

"I don't want you to be gentle," you whisper, gaze falling to his lips in time for them to curl into a smirk and close in.

You moan as Jeongguk kisses you, wasting no time licking over the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. As you open your mouth and dance the tip of your tongue over his, Jeongguk hastily undoes the fly of your slacks, yanking your hips to rock against him as he figures out the clasp and pulls down the zipper.

He shoves the garment to the floor, and as soon as you lift your right foot to free it from the pant leg, he takes your thigh and lifts it, spreading you wide to rake his clothed erection over you. The friction is just enough to make you whimper, and you angle your hips in an attempt to press yourself against him even more.

"Matching mesh panties," Jeongguk groans as he reaches between your bodies and cups your cunt with his palm, squeezing and rubbing in firm, long movements.

"Fuck," you whisper, feeling a burst of arousal quake down your spine.

He leans close once more, lips against yours as he grits, "You drive me fucking crazy."

In a rush, you reach for Jeongguk's pants and begin to undo his button and fly, swallowing every hiss and groan as your knuckles graze his erection. And as much as those sweet sounds urge you to drop to your knees and swallow him deep into your throat just to hear a symphony of his pleasure, you need him to fuck you right now.

Jeongguk takes over and pushes his pants and briefs down, and you shift around to sit back on the wide, velvet arm of the couch, leaning on your elbows and spreading your thighs wide. The look on Jeongguk's face is one of desperation, and you bite your lip at the sight of his pretty cheeks blushing. Knowing you have this kind of an effect on the man who had absolutely nothing nice to say to you for the longest time has your ego inflating to great heights.

"You are so fucking sexy," Jeongguk groans as he pushes your panties aside with one hand while dipping two fingers into his mouth and reaching down to rub the pads of his fingertips over your clit and down to your entrance. You gasp in tandem as he circles your hole and presses broth fingers inside. "Always so fucking tight."

"Please," you whimper, feeling just as needy as he looks. "Please, Jeongguk."

Jeongguk nods and removes his fingers, then spreads your arousal onto his length as he pumps himself a few times, closing the gap between you. Without a word, Jeongguk sinks his cock in deep, giving you no time to adjust to the stretch as you bow your back with a moan and take every inch he has to offer. Your walls ache just slightly enough for the pleasure-pain to make you dizzy.

"Fuck, doll, that's it. You take this cock so well."

You mutter, "Holy shit," punch-drunk from how good he feels, letting your head loll back.

"Eyes on me," Jeongguk instructs, and you lift your head and meet his gaze, watching his mouth fall agape, mirroring yours, while he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.

Jeongguk spears you open so deliciously, you struggle to keep your head lifted and eyes open. And he wastes no time picking up a pace that has you moaning and crying his name.

"Probably shouldn't be so loud," Jeongguk groans as he places the fingers that had been shoved inside your cunt moments ago in front of your lips. You open your mouth and accept his offering, sucking your taste from him as you attempt to stifle your moans.

He fucks you hard and fast, and you squeeze around him, matching his rhythm and working yourself toward orgasm quickly. Eager to cum—knowing that there is no way this quick and dirty hookup will last too long—you reach your hand between your legs and begin to touch yourself. The velvet of the couch feels rough against the one elbow that anchors you, but the hint of pain adds to the overwhelming pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge.

"That's it, cum on this cock," Jeongguk urges, sweat glistening over every inch of skin that you can see.

The twirl of your fingertips matched with the unrelenting drive of Jeongguk's hips has you plummeting past the edge of sanity. And his words certainly help. All you can do is whimper and sob around his fingertips, and your eyes flicker closed before widening as pleasure trembles and quakes through each inch of you.

"Want to fill you with my cum," Jeongguk groans, pressing his fingers against your tongue hard enough to make drool pool in the edges of your mouth. "Want you to walk around feeling me drip out of you. Want my hyungs to find your panties soiled and sticky. That sound good to you, dollface?"

Although you know you will come to regret this choice as soon as the afterglow fades, you do love the idea of Yoongi and Namjoon touching you and feeling Jeongguk's dried cum in your panties. It is filthy in the best possible way, and you yearn for it.

You mutter, "Mmhmm," and attempt to nod your head while sucking greedily on Jeongguk's fingers.

Jeongguk fucks impossibly harder, attempting to stifle his moans through grit teeth, sounding absolutely heavenly as his low voice lilts high and pretty. You should not feel so smitten by Jeongguk when he is balls deep and filling you with his cum, but he is absolutely stunning, and it is impossible to ignore.

As his hips tremble and still, he drops his fingers from your lips and leans close, supporting your legs with both arms as he lays you back and kisses you deep and hungrily. The two of you moan and whimper, gnashing lips, teeth, and tongues as if your lives depend on this exchange.

Jeongguk breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against yours, panting heavily. His skin is warm and glistening with sweat, and you lift your arms to wrap them around his shoulders.

"This is dangerous," Jeongguk mutters, and you tilt your head ever so slightly, humming a curious, "Hmm?"

"How will I keep my hands off you now that I know how amazing you are?"

This soft, sweet side of Jeongguk still takes you by surprise, and you find yourself feeling shy once more as you mutter, "Shut up," at a loss for anything else to say.

"I mean it," he says, pressing his lips to yours and moaning when you lean into the chaste kiss. "I don't want anything as serious as Namjoon has with the two of you…this is strictly physical. But you really are amazing, doll; you know that, right?"

"Stop," you respond, attempting to shove Jeongguk away. He remains firmly nestled inside you and crowding your personal space, and although you enjoy his presence, you are beginning to feel somewhat claustrophobic.

You know that this is strictly physical—you wouldn't want it any other way. So why does him saying it aloud make your heart feel just a little too heavy?

The fact is, you are only in a romantic relationship with Yoongi and Namjoon, and you know that you would not be able to handle it if you and Jeongguk became anything more than two friends who bicker and fuck. But in these moments when he is caring and sweet, there is a tiny part of you that thinks you would like a little more between the two of you.

"Alright," Jeongguk says with a soft chuckle, standing straight and pulling his softened cock from inside you. "I have to get to work."

Jeongguk looks absolutely disheveled and fucked out with blush-reddened cheeks, covered in a sheen of sweat, and you cannot help but laugh as you imagine him returning to the club with a straight face, going about his business as if nothing has happened. You wonder if he cued Jimin in on the fact that he would not be on the floor for however long this little tryst lasted or if Jimin might be searching for the two of you at the moment.

"Good luck with that," you tease, sitting up and immediately attempting to stand, doing your best not to allow any of Jeongguk's and your cum to drip onto the velvet couch.

Jeongguk reaches out and lightly grabs your elbows, steadying you as you bend out of his grasp and begin shuffling your leg back into your slacks. With a series of small hops and wiggles, you are back in your clothing, and you clasp and zip the fly, then run your hands down the front of the tight mesh corset top.

"What are you wearing to Seokjin's event?" Jeongguk asks, stepping close and using the pad of his thumb to wipe under your right eye, where you assume a little makeup has smudged.

"I have no idea," you admit, imagining Yoongi will want to shop for something bespoke tomorrow morning. "I usually let the boss dress me. He seems to enjoy it."

"Gross," Jeongguk responds with a playful crinkle of his nose, muttering to add, "Please tell me you do not call him boss in bed."

You swat away Jeongguk's hand, which has hovered beside your cheek as you break out into laughter. Jeongguk pretends to be affronted, holding his hand close to his chest as if you have wounded him. Once the laughter dies, Jeongguk reaches both arms to drape over your shoulders, forcing you to step close.

"Well tell the boss I request something with a nice long slit up the thigh for easy access. Maybe something that really hugs all your curves."

With a scoff, you search Jeongguk's face for a hint that he is joking, and although he is behaving playfully, he truly does seem serious.

"So bossy. You forget who I am supposedly engaged to, hmm?" you tease, cocking your head to the side and batting your lashes. "Because it is not you, Jeon."

Jeongguk steps closer, forcing you to tilt your head to look at him. He leans until his lips are a hair's width away.

"I'm aware of who you are pretending to be engaged to, dollface," he spits in a tone that could be mistaken for anger if you could not see the smile and glimmer in his eyes, even this close. "That does not mean I won't be pulling you into some secluded room to fuck you while your boyfriends have to stand idly by and wait for us to return."

"And why would you do that?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

Jeongguk gently sucks and nibbles at your lower lip, causing you to gasp and whimper, then he pulls back with a smirk and says, "For fun."

You roll your eyes and shove Jeongguk back, causing him to lose balance just enough to stumble. Then he opens the door and mutters, "Ladies first," holding his hand out as your invitation to exit.

The music playing in the club is loud and upbeat, and although it had been coming through the speakers of the private room, you had been too distracted to really notice it. As you make your way down the hallway, past the dancer's green rooms and Jimin's office, the bass reverberates through you in a rhythm that is intoxicating and overwhelming. You would love a drink right now.

Although you are sure it would not matter if you returned to the main room with Jeongguk, you decide to hang back a few paces and then veer off toward the ladies' room in the opposite direction of the bar, not looking back to check whether Jeongguk notices. And as soon as you step into the small brightly lit space and check your reflection, noticing small tell-tale signs that you definitely just had sex, you take in a deep breath.

This whole situation with Jeongguk is fun, but there is a sense of trepidation that surrounds it, now that you have had a little time to let this entire situation settle. Both Yoongi and Namjoon have given you enthusiastic consent to fuck their best friend, yet you still fear that eventually, at some point, they might change their minds. And although you know that you would absolutely, without a doubt, agree to stop fucking Jeongguk if they asked you to, you already fear that emotionally, it could tear you apart.

You definitely crave Jeongguk's attention. You appreciate how different it feels to be flirted with by him than it feels with Yoongi and Namjoon. You enjoy the thrill of knowing that all of it has to be done in secret when it is not done at someone's home—and Jeongguk has already proven to be the type to like secret, semi-public sex. Being claimed and used by him is thrilling in a way you have not experienced much before.

As you dry your hands and exit the restroom, you curse yourself for continuing to have the same train of thought stuck on repeat. You are far too sober to ignore the fact that already the thought of being something more than a fuck buddy for Jeongguk has begun invading your mind. Already you are asking yourself why you are so dead set on trying to talk yourself out of even humoring the idea.

And it is not as if you can walk into the main room—or anywhere, for that matter—and fully ignore his presence, or try to block what just happened out. With each step you take, you can feel the mix of body fluids squelching just inside your cunt, threatening to drip out. Even if you tried to wipe yourself off, there would be no way to fully cleanse yourself of him.

Perhaps it is not even him you would wish to cleanse yourself of; perhaps you are simply reconciling the idea that you are capable of becoming attached to people rather quickly, and you know just how fucking dangerous that can be.

You make your way to the bar for one whiskey sour and then two. Hyejin is out sick for a few nights, meaning Jeongguk is busy. Jimin seems to know what the two of you were up to just based on the judgmental upturned-eyebrowed gaze that follows you whenever the two of you are even briefly within proximity of one another.

By the third whiskey sour, two familiar men walk into the building. You spot Namjoon first, wearing his black shirt unbuttoned to the center of his chest. His short brown hair is styled off his forehead, and he wears a thin black choker around his neck. Rather than wearing his standard black slacks, he has black skinny jeans that almost appear shiny, outlining each curve of muscle in his thighs.

And then Yoongi follows, and something in the air feels as if it shifts. Yoongi on a normal day is breathtaking—pretty in ways that make you stop what you are doing to watch him. But tonight, his hair is messy and wild, and he wears a shiny bomber jacket with hints of gold and burgundy that shimmer in the club lights. A leopard print scarf is tied around his neck, and he wears a black shirt with a low, rounded neck, tucked into very tight black jeans.

Yoongi scans the room, eyes landing on you first, and you clench tightly to the cold, damp glass in your hand as he makes his way over slowly, like a beast on the prowl. Namjoon follows, dimples creasing his cheeks as his gaze rakes over your form. As they approach, you catch hints of black ink on Namjoon's honey skin peeking from his shirt, and notice both of them are wearing a dusting of black eyeshadow.

"Darling," Yoongi greets with a smile, lifting his arms up, beckoning you to hug him. You shift to the side just enough to set your drink on the bar behind you and to your left, and then you step forward and allow Yoongi's arms to engulf you. With his lips pressed to your temple, Yoongi softly rasps, "You look absolutely stunning, tonight."

"Thanks," you mutter as your heart pounds, and you lift your hands to his hips. Yoongi's musk is more floral than usual, and you close your eyes and bury your nose against his neck and the scarf tied around it, then drag your lips over the soft, warm skin.

When you finally take a step back, you rub your hands over the fabric of his jacket, which appears almost metallic, feeling rough tiny sequins lightly scratching against your palms.

"I like your jacket," you say as your eyes move from the pretty, inviting material to Yoongi's even prettier, even more inviting face.

"Then it's yours," he responds with a smirk, causing warmth to flood your cheeks.

"I like it on you," you clarify with a lift of your brow, then you push at the material enough to lift it and have a peek at his bare shoulders, realizing that he has a tank top on, adding, "Although I suppose I would like it off of you, as well."

Namjoon approaches on the right and leans an elbow on Yoongi's shoulder. His gaze is dark and hungry—piercing, almost—and there is a bloodshot quality to his eyes that suggests he is either high or he has been drinking.

"This jacket truly does look lovely on the floor," Namjoon says with a wink, turning in time to watch Yoongi roll his eyes and crack a smile that shows off his gums. Namjoon chuckles, and the sound is deep and pretty and makes your heart pound.

You are curious about so many things, including what drove them to get so dressed up tonight, and how their meeting went with the possible hotel sale. But you open your mouth with the intention of finding one of those topics to ask about when Jeongguk steps into the peripheral and wraps an arm around your waist.

"Hey, hyungs," he greets in a playful tone that gives you goosebumps.

Yoongi and Namjoon nod to Jeongguk, but their gazes flit between the two of you, and to the hand that holds you just under the ribs.

You expect one of them to tease you—it must be obvious that you fucked, or that you have become closer in some manner—and you are a bit surprised when Yoongi cocks his head toward Namjoon, eyes still on you, as he says, "Aren't the two of them gorgeous together?"

Namjoon hums and nods, and suddenly, you want to squirm away and create space between you and Jeongguk. You feel scrutinized in a way that is unfamiliar but that you liken to parents meeting a romantic partner for the first time. It is not Jeongguk's presence that embarrasses you, but the way they acknowledge his presence, making you feel like an insect trapped under a magnifying glass.

Namjoon keeps his elbow on Yoongi's shoulder as he glances around the space, eyes slowly trailing around. "You, Jimin, and Hyejin are doing well, it seems."

"Business is booming," Jeongguk responds as his hand gently rubs small shapes against your side, fingertips playing lightly with the threading and ribbing of your corset top. "Jimin is the genius of the operation; Hyejin and I merely do what he tells us to."

"Well you seem to be doing it well," Yoongi says, holding his chin high with a proud glimmer in his eyes.

The hand on your side tenses then relaxes, and you turn your gaze to Jeongguk, who looks at you with a shy smile, then turns back to Yoongi to mutter, "Thank you, hyung."

"You seem happier," Namjoon adds, dropping his arm to his side, then stepping in to play with Jeongguk's satin collar. "This style suits you, and your attitude has improved substantially."

"Hyung," Jeongguk whines, attempting to step away from Namjoon but hitting his elbow against the bar.

This makes Yoongi chuckle, who teases with a playful, "Our little Ggukah is all grown up."

"Ugh," Jeongguk complains, dropping his hand from your side before walking away, making the three of you laugh.

"He's so easy to rile up," Namjoon jokes, to which Yoongi says, "Too easy."

The three of you settle at the bar with drinks. You finish your third, and they slam a few shots to catch up. By the time you are setting down the fourth drink and excusing yourself to the restroom, both men are handsy and whining about letting you go.

"I have to pee," you complain, yanking your wrist from Namjoon's eager grip.

"Fine," he groans with a pout and puppy dog eyes that have you scoffing and shaking your head.

You are surprised by how much you stumble through the club on your way to the ladies' room. To be fair, you were more excited to dress up and get pretty this evening and barely touched any food before heading over here—something the three of you will need to remedy before heading home. The light of the bathroom is too bright, and you sit just a little too hard on the toilet, squeezing your eyes closed to try to focus them a little better when they open, causing the stall to be nothing but a tan and red blur.

After washing up and checking your drunk but agreeable reflection, you make your way back through the club. But before you can reach the bar, a customer—some older man you have never seen before—grabs you by the bicep.

"Are you available for a dance?" he slurs, filling your chest with anxious trepidation, which you attempt to swallow down while yanking your arm uselessly. "I see you here all the time, but you're never on stage."

"I don't work here," you respond through grit teeth, pulling your arm from his grasp and stumbling two steps backward.

The man frowns and opens his mouth to shout something slurred and incomprehensible, and in a blink, you are surrounded by Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin.

"Do we have a problem?" Yoongi asks in a firm, direct tone that is as intimidating as it is sexy.

"Boss M-Min," the man stammers, eyes moving between Yoongi, you, and the others. "No, sir. S-sorry."

Jimin pipes up, "If I see you lay a hand on another woman in this club—employee or not—I will have you kicked to the curb," causing the older man to stand tall, suddenly appearing offended. But he does not respond with words; he merely nods his head and turns away, returning to his seat at a small round table facing one of the side stages.

"Sorry about him," Jimin says, stepping close and placing his hands on your shoulders.

Only now, when you finally have a chance to breathe, are you aware of the panic that fills you, squeezing at your chest like thorny vines snaked between your ribs, threatening to make you collapse.

"I need some fresh air," you mutter quietly as you turn out of Jimin's light hold toward the back exit and struggle to move your feet more than three steps.

Namjoon wraps an arm around your waist and assists you with walking to the exit. "Does that happen often?" he asks low and sweet, voice as comforting as it is concerned.

"No," you mutter, shaking your head. "Never."

Frankly, you are shocked that it has taken this long for a man to accost you—a thought nobody should reasonably have. But considering the atmosphere and your proximity to it, you have come to expect some of the customers to be a little sleazy. Sure, men have whistled, shouted, and made lewd gestures before, but nobody has ever grabbed onto you.

Once the back door is open and the cool night air hits you in a somewhat uncomfortable burst, you tense up and curl into Namjoon's chest, having to somewhat waddle sideways as you fully step out and maneuver both bodies beside the door. You shiver, but a second and third body close in on you.

"Want me to throw him out?" Jimin asks, burying the other side of your face against his chest.

"No," you mumble.

"Alternatively," Namjoon suggests, "I could bring him out here and gut him like a fish. Paint the street with his blood and fill the night with his screams."

The tone in Namjoon's voice is so dead serious that it makes your stomach churn. "No thank you," you mumble, burying your face into his soft shirt and softer skin in an attempt to block out the mental image.

At moments like this, you remember the men you love are part of a no ordinary civilian men. Has Namjoon gutted someone before? Does he enjoy the way it feels to pierce and slice flesh with a blade? Can he stomach the smell?

"I have to get back in there," Jimin states with a sigh, hugging the group of bodies tight and practically suffocating you in satin before backing out of the bunch. "If you change your mind about that guy, let us know."

Jimin steps back, and you hear the door open, followed by the loud burst of upbeat club music before it closes, muffling the noise to nothing more than bass reverberating through the walls. Yoongi wraps himself over your shoulders, chest pressed into your back, and you rest against Namjoon, closing your eyes to the gentle sound of the two of them kissing.

"Jeongguk mentioned he left us a gift," Yoongi drawls after a quiet moment, and you gasp.

You had somehow forgotten all about what transpired between you and Jeongguk earlier, but now that it is at the forefront of your mind, the damp cloth between your legs feels somewhat cold and uncomfortable.

Before you can say anything, one of Yoongi's hands begins to travel down between the press of your and Namjoon's bodies, fingers grazing over the thin material covering your breast, making you shiver as your hard nipple is lightly touched. As his hand moves lower, you take a slow, fortifying breath and hold it, eager not to give yourself away too much.

Just the gentle graze of Yoongi's fingertips passing over your waist and hip has your eyelids fluttering. And when he reaches between your legs, presses against your soiled slacks, and groans, you let out the breath in a shaky exhale, gripping onto Namjoon's shoulders, lest you collapse.

"My, my," he groans, making Namjoon hum in question. "She's soaked, Joonie. Is this all you, darling? Or is it him, too?"

You huff an embarrassed sigh and attempt to relax your grip on Namjoon as you mutter, "It's him, too."

Namjoon reaches between your legs and touches eagerly—almost roughly. You whimper and take a dizzy step back; if it weren't for the tight proximity of bodies, you may have fallen into Yoongi.

"Naughty, naughty," Namjoon teases, cupping his hand over both your clothed cunt and Yoongi's wandering fingers. "What do you think, hyung? We can't just let some runt stake claim on our pussy without having it for ourselves."

Yoongi chuckles deep and sardonic, and you bite back a smile of your own. If it weren't for their eager touches and inviting tones, you would be laughing over the mental image of three dogs pissing on the same hydrant to claim dominance. Only, instead, they are your sexy boyfriends and their equally sexy best friend, and their little rivalry involves wanting to fill you with their cum.

"I know a spot," you all but moan, looking up to find Namjoon staring at you hungrily.

"Oh?" Yoongi asks playfully, pressing his fingertips against you in a slow circle.

With a nod and a whimper, you say, "Just so ha-happens there are rooms in this very building, meant for that very thing."

Yoongi steps back, taking his warmth and hand away, and your skin feels almost shocked by how cold it is.

"Lead the way," Yoongi suggests, and you fumble a couple steps back, still holding onto Namjoon's shoulders, before turning toward the door.

As soon as you walk back into the building, the music is loud and overwhelming. You take Yoongi's hand and lead him to the hallway, making a pit stop at Jimin's office door, which is ajar just an inch. You knock, and hear his soft, "What is it?" then peek your head in.

"Anyone in the executive suite?" you ask nervously, biting your lip.

Jimin squints then grins and shakes his head. "It's all yours, dove. Have fun!"

The sing-song manner of Jimin's tone makes your cheeks warm, and you mutter, "Thanks, Jimin," as you step back and return the door to its almost closed state.

Namjoon takes your other hand and rubs his thumb over your knuckles, and it does very little to calm your pounding heart, but you are still a bit on edge, unsure of what to expect. Neither of them seems upset, but there is still that fear in the back of your mind that it could change.

You know that you should give both men a little more credit; Yoongi and Namjoon have been nothing but open, curious, and honest with you about their desire to share and experiment. This threesome only exists because of their experience and eagerness to have this kind of relationship. So why do you worry so much?

Past the private dance rooms, the hallway takes a left turn. Changbin sits on a chair in a small enclave that is black from floor to ceiling and looks like a dead end. At your approach, he straightens out and stands, then bows.

"Boss," he says, standing tall and strong and stepping aside to pull back a curtain to reveal a black door with a small keypad. "All rooms are empty, so you can take your pick."

"We plan to use the executive suite tonight," Yoongi says with a gentle squeeze of your hand. "Jimin has already been made aware."

"Of course," Changbin responds with a bow of his head. "Enjoy."

Everyone who has access to the lower level has their own eight-digit code for the keypad. This way, Jimin is able to track who goes where, and stragglers cannot simply find their way down there. Not that the door is ever left unmanned.

You punch in 19931994 and listen for the mechanism to whine and click, then you press the door open with your palm. It is heavy, and the moment the three of you are through, it closes tightly behind you, though Yoongi reaches back to push against it anyway.

The stairwell that snakes you down under the building is lit in fuchsia, and the music is slower and more sensual—some R&B track you cannot identify with a singer whose voice alternates between soft and breathy, and quick and raspy. As you reach the bottom of the stairs, a long fuchsia hallway greets you, and Namjoon releases your hand and walks ahead to the end of the space. When he reaches the door just a few paces before you, he turns and crosses his arms over his chest.

With a stern voice and sterner expression, Namjoon says, "I want you to undress and position yourself exactly how Jeongguk had you, understand, baby?"

You respond, "Yes, daddy," without hesitation, and although Namjoon's eyes widen ever so slightly, his stern expression does not falter.

Namjoon steps aside, and you enter your passcode on another keypad and walk into the dimly red-lit space, past the bed, to the white leather sofa. The arms of this sofa are not quite as wide as the ones on the green velvet couch, but they are wide enough.

Wordlessly, you strip your slacks off but keep the left leg still hooked in the fabric, then you sit on the sofa arm and rest back on your elbows.

"Didn't bother to undress you," Yoongi practically snarls as he takes his place before you and undoes his belt buckle and fly. "Just a quick and dirty fuck, huh?"

"Yes, sir," you respond through a somewhat shattered breath.

"I'm guessing no foreplay?" Namjoon asks, taking his place beside Yoongi with his arms once more crossed over his chest.

"No, daddy."

Yoongi tsks and shakes his head. Namjoon chuckles.

"Poor girl," Yoongi teases with a pout, sliding out of his pretty shimmery jacket, which Namjoon takes and places neatly aside, on the bed. "I was really looking forward to tasting you."

The thought of being denied Yoongi's tongue fills you to the brim with frustration, but you let your eyes rake over his toned, bare arms as a distraction. Yoongi is far more muscular than he appears under the long-sleeved shirts he wears, and even a glimpse of his bare skin drives you wild—has you thanking the fashion gods for tank tops.

"He groped me over my panties," you inform Yoongi with an innocent smile. "Cupped his hand over me, rubbed and squeezed a little."

Yoongi steps forward and grabs your cunt firmly with his palm. "Like this?" he asks, and you gasp as your head lolls back, whimpering a soft, "Just like that."

"What else?" Namjoon asks.

"He spread and lifted my legs," you mutter as Yoongi palms roughly at you, pressing moist mesh against eager nerves. "He held my right leg with his arm."

Yoongi removes his hand only long enough to lift and spread your legs, yanking slightly to get you into position. Although Jeongguk is a little taller, you line up with Yoongi just right, and you attempt to swivel your hips in search of friction, but Yoongi's palm returns.

"He pushed his pants and briefs down, and pulled my panties aside," you continue. "Then he licked two fingers and touched me a little."

With a lift of his brow, Yoongi brings two fingers to his doll lips and wets them with his tongue.

"He only touched my clit briefly, but he did finger me," you specify.

Namjoon wraps his arms around Yoongi's hips and finishes unzipping his pants, then he pushes them, along with his briefs, to the floor. The sight of Namjoon's arms around Yoongi, while Yoongi stands hard and leaking, makes you dizzy, and you lick your lips, watching Namjoon step back and pull his arms away, wishing Namjoon would continue to touch him—longing for the way Yoongi falls apart just for him.

Yoongi reaches between your bodies and pulls your panties aside, then swirls over your clit once, twice, three times, building your arousal quickly, only to make it dissipate before his fingers dip inside, and you groan from the feeling.

"Messy, messy cunt," Yoongi teases, lips parted as he plunges deep inside. "But still so fucking tight."

"Please fuck me, sir," you beg, absolutely needy for Yoongi's cock.

"Is that how you begged him?" Yoongi asks, pulling his fingers out and stroking his hard length.

"Yes, sir," you admit, panting.

"And did he fuck you, darling?"

"Yes, sir. He fucked me hard and deep."

Yoongi closes the minuscule gap between you and sinks his cock all the way in one fluid motion, pushing a moan from deep within your chest and lighting your body on fire. Yoongi feels thick and familiar in the most dizzying way, and you scrape your fingernails against the sides of the leather armrest in an attempt to hold on.

"Did he kiss you?" Yoongi asks, leaning close and pulling his hips back, only to slam them forward.

Some part of you wants to lie and say no, he did not kiss you, but you swallow thickly and admit, "Not during sex."

"After?" Yoongi asks with a smirk, pulling back and slamming forward once more.

You sob through the word, "Yes!" and Yoongi's sharp smile grows bigger.

"Did he do anything else?" Namjoon prompts, and you huff out a sigh, wishing Yoongi would set a pace and fuck you, already.

"While he fucked me, I was being too loud, so he put his fingers in my mouth," you admit.

Yoongi pulls back and slams forward again. "Being too loud, hmm?"

You whimper and nod, saying, "We weren't down here. We were in one of the private dance rooms."

"He couldn't even bring you down here to fuck you?" Namjoon teases, cocking his head. "Aren't there cameras in those rooms?"

Finally, Yoongi sets a pace and begins to fuck you, and as you attempt to say he turned that camera off, all you can do is moan a broken, "He t-turned," losing the rest of the sentence.

Yoongi lifts his hand and slots his fingers between your lips before you can attempt to say another word, and you suck hard, doing your best to keep your eyes on him. The taste of your arousal on his fingers is different from the taste you left on Jeongguk's—a bit subdued but still just as heady.

You whimper and babble uselessly around Yoongi, drool falling from the sides of your lips while you suck. Although this is meant to be just a quickie, Yoongi does not rush; he has nowhere else to go. By the time you lift your hand to touch your clit, you are already fast approaching orgasm.

"Did you touch yourself while Jeongguk fucked you?" Namjoon asks.

You nod, and Yoongi removes his fingers for you to say, "We had to hurry, and I wanted to cum."

"Greedy girl," Namjoon teases with a wink and a smile, making you smile in return.

Your head bobs as Yoongi fucks you, and he says, "Well, then, touch yourself, darling," before returning his fingers to your lips.

Just one pass over your clit has you crumbling, and you suck hard, squealing. Yoongi's pace quickens, and the hand on your hip grips bruisingly.

"That's it, darling; cum for me."

As you clench around him, chasing your high, Yoongi's head rolls back, and he groans deep and pretty. The sight of his dark, messy hair and sweat-slicked neck is so inviting, you continue to clench just to push him over the edge as your high begins to crash.

You reach for Yoongi's leopard print scarf to pull him close for a deep, hungry kiss—much like the one you shared with Jeongguk, only softer. Yoongi does not gnash and nip as if this is the last kiss you will ever share; Yoongi sucks gently and licks firmly, filling your mouth with his sweet, needy moans.

It is not long before Yoongi's hips are trembling and stilling. And your grip on him is so tight that you feel him twitch and empty inside you.

"Fuck, baby, your pussy is heaven," Yoongi groans against your lips. "Absolutely perfect."

Overcome with emotion, you continue to grip tightly to his scarf and lick into his mouth. Yoongi chuckles lightly and hums as you tease his lip, indulging you before pulling back and straightening out.

"Did you kiss him like that after?" Yoongi asks, cheeks tinted with blush and hair messy.

"No, sir," you admit, letting your head dip downward while keeping your eyes up and on him.

The smile that graces his lips is pretty and loving, and he stares for a moment, catching his breath despite being the breathtaking one.

Yoongi bends to pull up his pants and get himself situated, then steps back. You feel his release dripping from your cunt, and you almost begin to sit up when Namjoon approaches and begins to undo his belt.

"Think you can handle one more?" Namjoon asks with a grin that dimples his cheeks.

"Don't think I have much of a choice," you respond with a bite to your lip, eager to feel him inside you.

Namjoon's smile falls, and his hands drop to his sides. "Of course you do," he says sadly, making your heart clench.

"I know that," you insist, sitting up quickly, instinctively reaching your hands toward him. "I was just being cheeky; I know you would never do anything that I don't want."

Every feature on Namjoon's face is sweet and soft, and his lips tug into a smile once more. "Sorry," he mutters as he steps close and leans forward. "I get in my head sometimes."

You reach out and take Namjoon's shirt just as you held Yoongi's scarf, and Namjoon stumbles forward before bending closer. "You're sweet," you say as you slot your lips together and hum. Namjoon is pillow soft with hints of whiskey, and you sink into the feeling, eager to drown.

Slowly, you pull from the kiss and say, "Fuck me, daddy," watching as his lips upturn.

"So bossy," he teases as his hands reach for his slacks and begin working open the button and fly.

"Please," you add, releasing Namjoon's shirt and leaning back on your elbows, spreading your thighs wide. "Make me forget what Jeonggukie did to me."

Namjoon practically snarls as he shoves his pants and briefs down, and he somewhat forcibly cups your wet, used pussy, sending a shiver of arousal through you.

You hardly have a chance to breathe with the way Namjoon kisses you—hot and rough and demanding. And although he follows the same formula Yoongi had, with very little instruction given, the pace and ferocity with which he fucks you has you momentarily forgetting even your own name.

For Seokjin's event, Yoongi has bought you a simple black satin evening gown with a plunging v-line and spaghetti straps that cross over your exposed back. The back v-line dips dangerously low, and, much to Jeongguk's excitement, there is a high slit up the right thigh.

You stand in Yoongi's closet, staring into the mirror along the far back wall while Jimin finishes getting all of your hair pinned up. Yoongi wraps various delicate silver necklaces around your neck in search of the perfect one while Namjoon and Jeongguk chatter lowly in the bedroom about something or other, and you swear you hear Taehyung's deep voice at some point, as well.

Yoongi finally decides on a dainty silver chain with no charm for you to wear and begins to search the drawers in his closet's island for a matching piece for himself. Meanwhile, Jimin exits the closet, and Jeongguk steps in.

"I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to give you your birthday gift early," Jeongguk says.

Surprised, you glance at him through the mirror before turning to regard him fully. Jeongguk is in his typical Paradise garb—in fact, all of the family men wear black satin and black slacks, with black and silver accessories. Jeongguk's hair is styled away from his forehead with a freshly short chop and sharp undercut.

"After that guy touched you at Paradise, I thought you should have it," Jeongguk continues. "Especially since we'll be at the casino tonight; there's no telling what kind of seedy characters might be there."

Taehyung pops around the corner, holding onto a small, rectangular box, and Jeongguk nods for you to take it. You reach for it, and Taehyung says, "From both of us."

"Of course," you respond with a smile, feeling your heart burst as your fingertips rub over crushed velvet. You have a feeling there must be some kind of weapon inside, based on Jeongguk's hint—a knife, judging by the size of the container.

As you open the box, Yoongi leans in close, and Namjoon takes a step into the space, glancing over Jeongguk's shoulder.

"I, uh—"Jeongguk begins as you crack it open, and you halt your movement to look at him. "I hope it's not too insensitive, given…well…you'll see."

You hesitate a moment, then continue opening it, gasping at the sight of the gift. Nestled against what appears to be black lace is a switchblade. The handle is black lacquer with mother-of-pearl decorations of flowers and birds. It is gorgeous and dainty, and when you lift it, the weight is surprisingly heavy. The blade that springs out is thin and appears to be very sharp, and you twirl it in your fingers as your eyes well with tears.

"This is beautiful," you say, finally looking at Jeongguk, then to Taehyung. "Thank you so much, you guys."

"It's sharp as fuck," Taehyung says with a grin. "And if you ever need it to be sharpened, just stop on by."

"There's a strap, too," Jeongguk adds somewhat shyly. "Hence why I thought…"

When he trails off, you giggle. Clearly, Jeongguk knows about your method of killing Seungri all those years ago, and it is a sweet thing for him to consider.

"I love it," you say before he can spiral, and when his features turn soft and his smile brightens, warmth rises to your face. Somewhat sheepishly, you add, "And I like it a lot more than a gun."

"Well," Namjoon urges from over Jeongguk's shoulder, stealing your attention. He winks as he says, "Try it on."

You set the box down on the island and pull out the bundle of lace, which happens to be a thigh garter. With a scoff, you turn to Jeongguk and teasingly ask, "Is this why you wanted me to have a thigh slit tonight?"

As everyone's attention turns to Jeongguk, he visibly balks, rolling his eyes. "I can have many reasons for wanting the things I want," he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

You unfurl the thigh garter and step into it, attempting to ignore all the eyes that watch as you bend and hike it high up your leg. Once it is in position just under the top of the dress slit, you grab the knife and attempt to decide where on your leg it might be most secure.

Taehyung steps in and asks, "May I?" holding his hands toward your thigh, and although you cannot begin to fathom what he is asking for, you are flustered enough to nod and say, "Yes."

"There is a little piece of elastic inside," Taehyung says as he squats and delicately begins to snake two fingers under the band and feel around. Thankfully, he finds it quickly at the front of your thigh, and he gently begins to rotate it until that part is resting on your outer leg. Holding his palm out, he says, "Knife."

You hand Taehyung the knife, and he slides it into the band, securing it in the elastic bit. As he stands, you reach down to feel it. It only takes a few adjustments of the band's height and position on your thigh before it is perfect. Granted, when you look in the mirror, the entire weapon is visible in this particular dress.

"Stunning," Yoongi says in a tone that is dark and rich with desire.

"I agree," Namjoon adds, and you glance up to smile at everyone through the mirror before turning your attention back to your reflection.

"And a perfect accessory for tonight," Yoongi adds, making you look up at him. "That paired with the engagement ring will tell everyone loud and clear just how deadly our little darling is."

Ah, yes. The engagement ring.

You look down at your empty hand and mutter, "Right, I should go get the ring," before turning and waiting for the wall of men to part and let you pass.

At the thought of the ring—and Yoongi's statement about you being deadly—your heart feels heavy. Anxiety fills you as you pad barefoot through Yoongi's room, past Jimin, who sits on the bed, scrolling through his phone, glancing up with a soft smile.

In the mansion, there is a light clattering of voices. Members of the family security team are downstairs waiting to escort you to the event, and Yoongi’s cooking team is in the kitchen finishing something sweet and full of carbohydrates, the smell of which wafts throughout the large mansion.

Time seems to slow as you walk to your room—a room you hardly visit anymore. The familiar and unfamiliar sights and sounds are as comforting as they are daunting, and all the connotations of being part of this gentle but looming chaos fills you with dread.

Do you want to be deadly? The prospect feels heavy.

And after Yoongi's heroin relapse and stint in rehab, you worry about the prospect of being more entrenched in this lifestyle than you already are. Getting further involved in this business can only put you more at risk. And if Yoongi plunges off the deep end over losing one of his men, what could become of him should something ever happen to you?

Sure, you are merely playing a role tonight—dressing in a way that sends a message, and wearing a ring that symbolizes something fake. But your position at Yoongi's side is anything but fake, and standing there publicly is a huge hazard to your safety.

You heavy-blink and realize you are standing in your dark bedroom, staring toward the bed. Light filters in through the windows, but it is the faint and golden glow of a setting sun. A particularly loud laugh echoes through the mansion, snapping you fully out of your trance, and you gaze around for the ring box, which sits Tiffany-blue on your bedside table.

With a sigh, you approach and grab the ring box, snapping it open and stopping to stare at the giant rock inside before pulling it out and listlessly tossing the open box onto your bed. The ring is heavy as you slide it onto your finger, and your heart clenches at the weight. There is a part of you that hopes one day for this weight to support something real. But can you really become a mafia wife?

Although you hear soft footsteps approach, your gaze lingers on your hand and the ring that adorns it. Yoongi's soft voice asking, "Darling?" causes tears to well in your eyes, and you take a deep, fortifying breath before turning to regard him.

Yoongi is gorgeous, leaning against your door frame with his brows gently tugged into a concerned frown. As he studies your eyes, he stands straight and slowly steps forward. Both of your hands are clenched in front of your stomach, and he takes them in his, rubbing his thumbs against your palms until your grip loosens.

"Care to tell me what you're thinking?"

A chuckle works its way from your tummy, and you gaze down sheepishly at your conjoined hands, then back at Yoongi's face. "I don't know where I would even begin," you admit, feeling the urge to cry and swallowing it down.

"You look a little overwhelmed," Yoongi says, and you scoff, nodding.

"I think I am."

Yoongi licks his lips and hesitates before asking, "Does it have to do with the ring?"

You swallow thickly. "A little," you admit.

Yoongi's grip on your hands tightens then releases, and he wraps you in a hug, pinning your arms to your sides. "Well, you do not have to tell me right now if you don't feel comfortable, but just know that I always value whatever is on your mind. Especially if it is stressing you out."

"I just…" you begin, closing your eyes and nuzzling your forehead against his neck, doing your best not to rub away any of the makeup on your eyes.

With a sigh, you change your path, voice weak as you say, "I love you. And Namjoon. You're both amazing and you have been so good to me."

As you swallow thickly, feeling anxiety rise, Yoongi prompts you, saying, "But…"

"But this lifestyle terrifies me," you admit, voice trembling. "And this ring is so heavy and what it symbolizes is so huge, and I…I don't know, Yoongi. I don't know if I can handle all of this."

Yoongi says nothing, but he does sigh. His arms squeeze tighter, and the silence that drags causes you to ramble.

"I know Namjoon said that the only way out of this lifestyle is death. And I can't…my heart aches imagining all the horrifying possibilities."

"Namjoon told you that," Yoongi mutters, sounding as disheartened as you feel.

"He wasn't trying to scare me," you insist, lifting your arms to return Yoongi's hug and forcing his arms to slide up to your shoulders. "We were just discussing you, and us, and…all of this."

"It's true that there is a target on my back," Yoongi says, sighing, sounding more resolved than before. "But I am protected. I employ the strongest and smartest on this peninsula. I don't want you to worry about me, or Namjoon, or yourself."

"How could I not?" you practically sob, feeling tears rise and squeezing your eyes closed.

"Shhh," Yoongi whispers, rubbing his hands on your back and taking a step out of the hug. "We should talk about this soon, but now isn't the time for worries like these, darling. Jimin will kill you if your makeup smears, and Seokjin will kill both of us if we arrive late."

The playful tone makes you laugh, and you sniffle, nodding your head and looking Yoongi in the eye, taking in his warm, almost sad expression. You know that Jimin would be nothing but sympathetic to your tears, and that Yoongi is only joking, but the image of Jimin's angry little snarl flashes in your mind anyway, making you laugh more.

As if on cue, Namjoon arrives, looking over Yoongi's shoulder with a wide smile that falls into a concerned frown. "Everything okay?"

"As a matter of fact, everything is not okay," Yoongi says, turning to Namjoon with a faux glare that makes him widen his eyes with worry. "Why are you filling our darling's pretty little head with images of us dying."

Namjoon gasps, looks at you, and then back at Yoongi, asking, "When did I ever—"

"You told her the only way out of this lifestyle is death."

Recognition hits, and Namjoon sighs, stepping in and slinging an arm over Yoongi's shoulder, forcing him to turn and face you once more. Namjoon leans to the side, low enough to say softly into Yoongi's ear, "I told her that while you were in rehab and she was lamenting over how badly she wishes you could leave all of this behind."

When Yoongi blinks, his gaze hardens and then drops. "I can't just do that," he says with bitterness in his tone.

"I know," you respond. "It was selfish of me to—"

"Loving someone is never selfish," Namjoon interrupts nicely, then he squeezes Yoongi's arm. "And you know damn well that she has every right to find what you do horrifying, Yoongi. Be gentle."

"I am gentle," Yoongi pouts, eyes still on the floor.

"Alright," Namjoon says, "Shall we? Seokjin will kill us if we're late."

Unable to hold back a smile, you nod and say, "Let's go."

"This conversation isn't over," Yoongi says in a tone that makes you nervous before softening as he says, "but I appreciate you telling me what is on your mind. And I don't mean to get defensive, this is just…well, it's the only lifestyle I have ever known."

To a certain extent, it is also the only one you have known. Only you were at the behest of powerful men and used as a plaything, and even a weapon, in lowly ranks, hoping for a way to escape to a better life. Sleeping in the bed of powerful men and standing at their side is something else, entirely.

The casino is packed, and you already regret having to wear high heels on the carpeted floors, feeling each step sink slightly. Cigar smoke and the stench of an amalgamation of types of alcohol permeate the air, and the barrage of sounds from various betting machines blaring over shouting voices overwhelms.

Yoongi leads you through the center of the casino, and you attempt to keep your head held high and your focus on nothing ahead of you, allowing all the flashing lights to bokeh into spots. When you finally blink everything back into focus, Seokjin is at the center of the room surrounded by a crowd of men.

Try as you might, you have no idea what the hell this event is for. Each time you ask, you are met with a vague response and conclude that this must simply be a celebration of Seokjin and his beloved House of Cards.

About an hour in, you are buzzed from whiskey and champagne and find yourself stumbling to the restroom near the bar. Although you are not quite intoxicated enough to be bumbling around, these heels are doing you no favors, and you find yourself griping about it under your breath. The stalls are all empty, and you sit longer than necessary on the toilet just to have a breather somewhere quiet and off your feet.

When you exit the stall to wash your hands, a woman in a blood-red evening gown with her hair tied high on her head smiles at you through the mirror. You smile back, mostly just to be polite, and wash your hands before turning toward the exit.

"Quite the rock you got there," the woman comments, making you stop in your tracks. Her voice has a sort of practiced shrillness to it, like she is only pretending to care. "What kind of man can afford a ring like that one?"

Unsure whether you are interested in having this conversation, you turn your head, smile softly, and respond, "A powerful one."

The woman hums and says, "I guess so."

You turn back toward the door and exit.

As soon as you return to the bar, you notice that Yoongi and Namjoon are no longer there, but Jeongguk is, so you approach him. His eyes brighten instantly, and he downs his drink, then stands up straight and approaches, taking you by the elbow and spinning you in the opposite direction.

"What are we—"

"Boss Min asked me to escort you to the second floor," Jeongguk responds a little too loud, and you bite back a smile.

"Right," you respond, not buying his ruse.

But he does lead you to the elevator, up to the second floor. Only everything is locked and dark, and there is no one around.

"I can't take it anymore," Jeongguk mutters as he leads you into the banquet room—which he has the access code to—and through the long, vacant space, to the coat check closet where Yoongi first dropped the bomb that he was going to propose to you. "The dress, the knife…you are so fucking hot, dollface."

You say nothing as he closes the door behind you and then switches on the light. There is a low wooden countertop below a partial door, which is closed, and you kick out of your shoes and lean against it. If you are going to let Jeongguk fuck you, you need to do it in a position that is comfortable for both Yoongi and Namjoon to do the same.

Jeongguk is on his phone, thumbing around while smiling, and you almost berate him for giving someone else your attention while you are standing here waiting for him. But then he turns off the screen and slides the device into his pocket with a devious grin.

"Let's see how far we get before my hyungs arrive," he mutters while sinking to his knees.

You are drunk by the time you leave, used and satiated, feeling the squelch of cum between your legs. Jeongguk stares longingly at Taehyung from the passenger seat, but occasionally his gaze flits back to you, making your cheeks warm.

Yoongi sits to your right with Namjoon to your left, and although the vehicle is spacious, Taehyung had insisted on everyone strapping into a bulletproof vest, adding bulk to your bodies. Being that this event was widespread and it is likely that Ryujin's team could have caught wind, he rambled about being safe rather than sorry. Plus, there was mention of someone showing up to the event…some woman whose name you do not remember, who made everyone suspicious.

Ahead of you is the vehicle containing Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin, as well as two members of the security team, one of whom resembles Changkyun, though you are unsure whether it really is him. They are leading the way to Paradise, where Jimin insists on having an after-party.

As you drive through the city, a plume of dark smoke rises into the air, causing you to sit up and bend to better look out the windshield. "There's smoke ahead," you mutter, feeling worry in the pit of your stomach.

Just then, Yoongi's phone rings, shrieking and anxiety-inducing, and you sit back, staring ahead at the billowing smoke.

"Yes?" Yoongi says as he answers, then says, "Jimin, speak slower."

"Is that Paradise?" Jeongguk asks as you get closer, and you feel panic rise.

"She what?" Yoongi asks at the same time Taehyung says, "Looks like it's right across the street."

As the vehicle approaches, you realize that Paradise is not on fire, but the building directly across from it is. The building in question is part of a group of warehouses that, as far as you know, have recently been vacant.

"We're right behind you," Yoongi instructs. "Fire workers should be on their way, but we'll assess Paradise for any damages."

The street is eerily empty as Taehyung pulls into the alleyway beside Paradise and shuts his lights off. Although this area is somewhat recently developing nightlife, slowly tearing down all the warehouses like the one currently in flames, there are still usually people littering the streets. Seeing nobody is concerning, even with Paradise closed for the night.

"Strap up just in case," Yoongi instructs, and Jeongguk opens the large glove compartment and begins pulling out handguns.

As everyone removes their seatbelts, Namjoon turns and gets onto his knees on the seat. He reaches back into the trunk, and you hear the sound of velcro parting. Then he hands you and Yoongi handguns, which you take with shaking hands.

"Remember what you learned," Yoongi says as you stare at the weapon in your trembling palms, feeling its cold steel and familiar weight. "Take in a deep breath, line up your shot, and squeeze the trigger as you exhale."

At a loss for words, you nod, then swallow thickly. This is the absolute last thing you want to be holding in your hands tonight. Luckily, you switched your heels for ballet flats once you got to the vehicle, at least.

Taehyung and Jeongguk exit the vehicle first while Yoongi and Namjoon stay put. You sit forward anticipating having to leave, and are a bit surprised when they do not. Through the rearview mirror, you watch as the two of them walk to the street with their guns tucked into the waistbands of their pants and glance around. Then Taehyung turns and waves for the rest of you to join him.

"We should take the side door inside," you say, and Namjoon hums in response, though you are unsure what the nature of his hum is, exactly.

Yoongi opens his door first, and Namjoon follows suit. "Go with Namjoon," Yoongi instructs, and you shift, then turn slightly to your left, waiting for Namjoon to exit.

Yoongi walks toward the street and Namjoon follows, but you hesitate. You do not want to be on an eerily silent street in the middle of the night while the building across from yours is billowing with smoke. This matter should be left to the fire department, and your family men should get the fuck home.

"Sweetheart," Namjoon softly calls, making you gasp, realizing the space between the two of you as you scurry ahead to catch up.

"I don't like this," you mutter, shoulders scrunched to your ears as you glance around the street. The sides of the bulletproof vest are rough and scratchy against your bare arms. "We should leave this to the professionals and go home."

"We are the professionals," Namjoon responds as you turn the corner and begin to walk toward the entrance of Paradise where Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin are all congregated. Jimin tenses as you approach, then sighs and relaxes when he sees that it is you.

"Suited and strapped?" Seokjin teases, despite having a handgun tucked into his waistband. Hoseok has a fucking shotgun resting against his shoulder, and his smile is so blindingly bright that you struggle to reconcile the sight. Beside them, Changkyun and another man stand with what appear to be semi-automatic rifles in their hands.

"Safety first," Jeongguk slurs, clearly wasted despite how steadily he stands.

"Any whispers?" Yoongi asks, and Seokjin blinks a few times then shrugs, saying, "None."

"Hmm," Yoongi taps his fingertips to his bottom lip, long fingers dancing as he speaks. "This is certainly a tactic to get our attention…but why? Where are they?"

You are not eager to find out who the message comes from or where they are, and you approach Double Seok and Jimin, sliding in close beside them.

"Do we think this has anything to do with the sudden appearance of Hyungseo?" Taehyung asks. "There had been whispers of her helping in Busan."

Yoongi shrugs. "What could it mean? Unless she really is working for Ryujin, I can't imagine what her place in any of this would be. And why would she be setting one of Lady Choi's buildings on fire just to get our attention?"

"Why don't I take our dove inside?" Jimin suggests, and Yoongi turns his attention to you.

You must look as terrified as you are, because Yoongi nods and says, "May as well. I don't need either of you getting hurt."

"Why don't we all get inside?" Jimin suggests. "We can assess the situation at a safe distance."

"Through what window?" Hoseok asks, and he is correct to do so; Paradise has no windows.

"Stand in the fucking door, then," Jimin snaps, "I don't know."

From the distance, the siren of a fire truck screams, and you sigh with relief. The sound is piercing as it approaches, but it is a reprieve from the haunting silence and it fills you with hope

As soon as the truck pulls up, workers pile onto the street and begin to put out the fire, minding your group no business. It takes a while, and everyone watches as hoses hooked to hydrants do their work.

Although it probably lasts around a half hour, you and everyone stand transfixed. Once everything is under control, the workers pack up and leave without a word to any of you, as if they were never here at all.

Eerie silence returns and is met with the smell of burnt wood and plastic. You feel sick to your stomach staring at the corpse of the building before you, partially caved in while bits of a frame stand amongst the wreckage, scorched black.

"What is the message?" Yoongi asks.

"Shall we go inside and wait it out?" Namjoon asks.

"I'll stay and stand watch," Hoseok says, dancing his fingertips over the handle of the shotgun.

"Me too," Jeongguk slurs, and you feel the urge to insist that he does not.

Jimin turns and pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and uses several to open the various locks. Then he opens the door wide, holding it for you to approach and step inside. Namjoon begins to follow suit, for which you are thankful, and he looks over his shoulder to say, "Yoongi. You should join us."

Yoongi takes two steps toward the building, and the sounds of heels loudly clacking against concrete can be heard, pulling everyone's attention. You look up to find the person approaching is the same lady who commented on your engagement ring at the casino restroom, and she is coming from beside the building to the right of the one that had just been on fire.

The woman has changed from the blood-red evening gown to what appears to be an equally blood-red leather bikini top and denim mini skirt. Her hair is down, hanging to her breasts, and it looks wet, as if she were among the flames as they were being put out.

"Now, now, gentlemen," the woman calls from across the street. "Retreating so soon?"

"Hyungseo," Yoongi calls, crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you doing here?"

The woman, who you surmise is called Hyungseo, walks across the street, swinging her arms loosely to her sides as if to a song that nobody can hear. As she gets closer, you can see that her makeup is smeared in black smudges, and there is a somewhat crazed look in her eyes.

She pouts as she approaches Yoongi, fixing him with a curious stare. In her heels, she is nearly as tall as he is, but there is an intimidating aura to her otherwise lithe frame that makes her presence feel gigantic.

"I come on behalf of my team, asking for a truce."

"Your team?" Yoongi scoffs, cocking his head. "What team?"

"Didn't you hear? Your pretty little ex has stepped down."

At this, Yoongi and all the other men straighten their posture. Yoongi is the first to respond, asking, "She what?"

Under his breath, Taehyung mutters, "So the whispers are true."

The smile that graces Hyungseo's lips is sharp and devious, and she glances around at all ten of you, then back to Yoongi. "You're outnumbered," she drawls in a teasing tone, elongating each syllable as she cocks her head slowly.

"What kind of truce? What do we care if that building is burnt?" Yoongi asks.

"That building," Hyungseo somewhat mumbles, rolling her head listlessly to the side to glance at it, "belongs to a very powerful woman who will no doubt have your head on a pike when she finds out you burnt it down."

"We didn't burn it down," Namjoon responds angrily.

Hyungseo shrugs. "Sure you did. And she is going to be very confused as to why you did, considering you so generously high-balled her for ownership of one of your less flashy hotels."

"Go on," Yoongi says with a sigh.

"You see," Hyungseo continues, "Lady Choi is very well-connected and has family in our organization. I wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to buy a hotel in Seoul in order to keep an eye on you guys. A keep-your-enemies-closer kind of situation, if you will."

"So she owns some shitty, vacant buildings, and you set fire to one of them to frame us?" Seokjin asks with a laugh in his tone. "You realize this building is covered with security cameras, and that your little ruse will be easily discredited."

Hyungseo shrugs and says, "We'll see about that."

Jimin already appears to be pulling the footage up on his phone, and you watch as his brows knit. "Boss," Jimin says nervously, "this man…he looks a lot like you from behind."

"Except I was at the casino all night," Yoongi responds, rolling his eyes.

"Hmm," Hyungseo responds, "are you sure about that? Because my team noticed there was about an hour and three minutes during which you were nowhere to be found. You and your right-hand man, in fact. And how strange that this fire happened to start around the exact same time. She smirks as she adds, "Where were you, Yoongi?"

Yoongi sighs. "I was fucking my fiancé."

"Your fake fiancé," Hyungseo corrects, causing Yoongi's shoulders to square once more. "And what about Namjoon? Was he also fucking her?"

"The nature of our relationship is none of your business," Yoongi responds, to which Hyungseo holds up a hand as if telling him to stop.

"Don't worry, darling. Ryujin has told me all about the nature of your relationship. And the thirty-seven minutes during which your pretty little whore and Jeongguk went missing before you and Namjoon disappeared? Should I not question the nature of their relationship, too?"

Jeongguk pulls his gun and cocks the hammer, filling you with fear and dread. As he lifts it level with Hyungseo's head, you gasp and squeeze your eyes closed.

"Down, boy," Hyungseo mutters listlessly, rolling her eyes. "No need to get so defensive."

"I think we've heard quite enough," Yoongi says, holding out a hand to Jeongguk and lowering it. Jeongguk follows the command and drops his arm down, pointing the barrel of his gun to the ground.

"So…" Hyungseo drawls, appearing bored. "Truce?"

"Fuck your truce," Yoongi responds sharply. "You're just trying to frame me, and I am not playing your games; we can arrange a meeting with Lady Choi and settle this like adults. She happily set the price she wanted for the hotel, but I can always ask her for less. And I can buy that burnt mess your team made if it assuages her worries. Regardless of the so-called family she has on your side, she and my mother were old friends; I'm not afraid of her or of you."

"Hmm, I'm afraid we can't do it that way," Hyungseo says as she scratches her head and begins to walk backward to the street. "Lady Choi may have had an allegiance with your family back in the day, but now your mommy and daddy are dead. She could give a fuck about the Min runt—her words, not mine."

Jeongguk lifts his gun again, and this time, a shot is fired from across the street, appearing to narrowly miss him as he ducks out of the way. You gasp, feeling terror take over so abruptly that your legs tremble and you nearly fall, gun gripped uselessly in your fist.

Everyone but Jimin reaches for the guns they have holstered just as another shot is fired and the men begin to scatter, taking cover. You run into Paradise, making way for Jimin, but he hesitates by the door, calling for Yoongi, who rounds the corner into the alley.

Men charge from around the burnt building across the street, and although it is safe to say your men are outnumbered, if this really is everyone, they are not outnumbered by a lot. Still, fear quakes through you, and you nearly sink to the floor, holding the door cracked open.

"Jimin!" you whisper-shout until he finally snaps out of his daze and enters the building, closing the door tightly behind him.

"What the fuck are they doing?" Jimin mutters, trembling fearfully. "Why didn't any of those idiots take cover inside?"

A fist pounds on the door, causing you to scream. From outside you hear, "It's Kyun. Let me in."

Jimin holds his gun up with a shaking fist and cracks the door, then steps back, pulling it open wide.

"You two retreat," Changkyun instructs. "I'll watch this door. Is there an alley door you can watch in case the men try to enter from there?"

"Yes," Jimin says, nodding his head somewhat maniacally with a distant look in his eye. "I can go to the back door."

Jimin turns and runs toward the back exit, and you stand in place, unsure whether you could will your legs to move if you wanted to. Despite calling it the back exit, it is along the nearby left wall, just past the main floor.

Gunfire is heard outside, along with shouting. You walk to the left wall and stand with your back against it, attempting to take deep breaths. Each exhale comes out in a sob as tears begin to pour. You cannot fathom anything happening to one of these men, and the prospect is horrifying.

You wish they would have all come inside when you could take cover in a back room or even in a basement, but even you are not foolish enough to think any of those men would turn down the chance to kill their opponents instead.

Changkyun opens the door, and you watch with wide, horrified eyes as he rapidly fires bullets through the crack, then slams the door shut. Some shots from outside are much louder than others, making you flinch and jump with each sound. Gunfire rages on, causing tears to spill as your shoulders are held high and tense around your ears, making them ache.

And then, suddenly, it is quiet.

"Do not open this door for anyone," Changkyun instructs. "I am going to get the men back into their armored vehicles and return for you."

"Okay," you mutter softly, nodding.

"Lock it behind me and then get away from it, just in case. Everything is armored, but the walls are safest."

You nod some more, humming in understanding. Changkyun exits, and you shuffle over quickly to turn all five locks, then back away before turning toward the back exit.

Each breath you take is loud in the large, empty building. You turn to locate Jimin, who should be standing near the back exit, and fear spikes when you do not see him. Had he gone outside? You feel a pull to go investigate but stand still, eyes wide and staring toward the closed door.

And then, it flings open, and you watch as a man you have never seen before comes charging in, weapon drawn. You begin to back up but hit the wall, and he spots you, lifting his weapon.

Panic pulsates through you, and you lift your gun far slower than you should to defend yourself. The man smirks and opens his mouth to speak when suddenly his head jerks to the left and explodes, sending blood and brain matter flying against the hardwood floor and a nearby round wooden table. You scream at the top of your lungs and fall against the wall, sliding to the floor as Hoseok steps in, shotgun still lifted.

"We gotta get out of here!" Hoseok shouts, but try as you might, you cannot lift yourself from the floor, and you shake your head, feeling your body tremble so hard it makes your head ache.

"Sweetheart," Namjoon's voice calls. You search for him, but the edges of your vision are black, and all you are able to make out is a form of black that is vaguely human-shaped approaching in the dim room. "Come on. We gotta go."

Strong arms lift you, and you scream, struggling to comprehend anything but horrific fear. You are stood onto your feet and hugged tightly. Slowly, the scent of Namjoon's cologne comes to the forefront, but so does the brassy scent of blood, making your guts churn.

With Namjoon's help, you begin to walk, and as you step past the man who has painted the floor red with his blood, you close your eyes tight. Cool night air hits you and snaps you harshly back to reality. You have to swallow down the urge to vomit, shivering violently in your scant evening gown, feeling sweat that has pooled beneath the thick vest start to cool.

"Jimin, just get into our trunk," you hear Yoongi insist, and you gasp happily at the sound of his voice.

"Fine," Jimin sighs. "I don't want to walk back to our car, anyway."

Bodies litter the street, sidewalk, and alleyway of men dressed in black and holding guns. On the hands of those you can see is a tattoo of a black dagger, the tip of which is red, dripping with a single drop of blood. You wonder if they belong to a gang that marks all their participants in this manner.

The trunk of the sedan is opened, and Jimin rounds the vehicle to get inside. Just then, Seokjin pulls up in his vehicle, and Hoseok runs over, jumping into the front seat. Jimin hesitates and must decide that, since his ride is here, he will just get in with them, because he closes the trunk and takes off running toward the vehicle.

Jimin reaches the sidewalk and abruptly turns to the left, pulling his hands over his head and ducking. Hoseok shouts, "Fuck!" as he flings his car door open, but he is too slow. You hear a gun fire just as Jimin jerks and then crumbles, hitting the pavement. You are so filled with rage and fear that you begin to run toward Jimin.

All you can hear is your own heart pounding in your ears as you turn the corner and find a man standing with his gun lifted. Hoseok and Seokjin stand from the open vehicle doors and raise their weapons, and you do the same.

In a flash, every ounce of fear in your body transforms into anger, hate, and adrenaline. The world seems to screech to a halt as you pull the trigger in tandem with the other two and shoot. The man whose smoking gun points to you—to where Jimin stood—falls back, crashing to asphalt seconds after his brains splatter, and you advance, unconcerned about your surroundings.

Voices shout around you, and you fire one more shot into the man’s head, which lurches uselessly from the ground and then crashes back with a squelch of blood and brain matter. And then another shot, walking until you are straddling his ribs with your ballet flats, firing again, turning his head into bone and sinew mush. Again and again, until click, click, click, your gun is out of bullets, and you scream bloody murder—enraged, as if one more bullet wound will undo the harm this battered corpse has caused.

You raise your arm high in the air, intent to smash the butt of your gun into what is left of his face, but are stopped by a strong, immovable force. You hardly register the solid, warm arms that wrap around you, and as you are pulled from the man, you kick your legs and scream, furious with the world. Your heart continues to pound dizzying and loud, and you are certain that you would rip every last man to shreds with your bare hands if you could—god, if only you could.

Incensed screams rip from your chest as you are dragged backward, feet hitting the asphalt, unable to keep up with the movement. The scent of flowers and springtime greets your nose in waves, bringing Namjoon’s calming voice into the forefront for only a moment, though you cannot, for the life of you, make out what he is saying; shouting and the overwhelming scent of blood takes over too strongly, tugging you between heaven and hell.

In a surge of anger, you reach for the switchblade at your thigh, grip onto the handle, and pull it free. You know that the man is dead—there is nothing recognizable left of his face—but the urge to slice him open and tear out his insides is palpable and unforgiving. You will not be satisfied until his bleeding fucking heart is in your fist.

Namjoon's grip on you loosens, and he shouts something incomprehensible as you attempt to lunge forward, only to be caught again in his grasp. You press the small lever on the side of the knife as hands reach for your weapon, and in a fit of panic and rage, you flail your arm, desperate to keep a tight hold of the knife and continue on to your battered target.

And then, things blur and slow down. Your arm is yanked back, and as you rip it forward again, you feel the knife catch, but you are too caught up in the movement that you do not stop—all you can comprehend is blinding rage at the man whose brains are splattered on the ground. Screams and shouts are deafening, and although you can make out certain words—Yoongi…face…blood—nothing fully makes sense.

The knife is ripped from your hand at the same time the arms around you release, and when you turn to scream at Namjoon for keeping you from attacking the man whose bullet stole something precious and sacred from you, you find Yoongi standing a foot away, hands up to his face, with blood seeping from between his fingers.

"Sweetheart, don't—" Namjoon begins, blocking your view with his arms held out around your sides. But you are frantic, and you do not understand what has just happened; how the fuck is Yoongi injured?

Taehyung wraps an arm around Yoongi and spins him, ushering him away to a sedan, and you panic, desperate to go with him. Faintly, you think you see Jimin on some kind of stretcher with his neck and head braced, and you wonder where that came from. Did Taehyung have something like that handy? Can it actually fit in one of the vehicles?

The fighting all around you was so chaotic that now, even as it seems to be over, your adrenaline is too high for anything to make clear and perfect sense; no sound registers and every light trails in a dizzying spell before your eyes.

"Yoongi!" you scream, and Namjoon holds you tighter, keeping you from the one other person you need to be with the most. You scream, "Let go of me, fucking let go of me!" attempting to claw Namjoon's arms away from your middle as Yoongi is helped by Hoseok into the back of the same large black vehicle that Seokjin and Taehyung are lifting Jimin into the back of.

Jeongguk steps in front of you, face stern and streaked with tears, and he firmly—roughly—grabs onto your shoulders, gritting his teeth as he holds you steady.

"You've done enough," he says sharply, piercing into your heart, and hot streaks pour down your face and cloud your vision as you fail to make sense of what the fuck is happening.

"Yoongi—" you mutter, jaw clattering as your body trembles in the cool night air, shaking your head and getting onto your toes in an attempt to see over Jeongguk's shoulder. "What happened, where is he going? I need to go with him, please, I need to go with him!"

"You need to calm the fuck down and breathe," Jeongguk retaliates angrily.

"Jeongguk, what happened?" you ask, quaking with adrenaline and searching his face for answers. His anger is understandable, but you cannot figure out why it seems to be directed at you.

Behind him, Namjoon's face falls to his hands, and gripped tightly in his fist, pointing outward, is your open switchblade.

"Namjoon," you whisper, finding your voice wrecked and unable to project.

"Let's get you into this vehicle," Jeongguk sternly says, steering you toward Seokjin's sedan.

"But they—" you begin, watching as Namjoon walks away and climbs into the very back of Taehyung's vehicle. The seats appear to be down, and Yoongi is sitting beside Jimin's stretcher with his head tilted upward, holding something over his face.

"They have to receive medical attention," Jeongguk says. "And you need to go with Seokjin hyung."

Changkyun and the other man are in the back seat of Seokjin's vehicle, and Hoseok sits staring ahead as Jeongguk ushers you into the one empty seat, behind Hoseok.

"You're—" you begin to ask, and Jeongguk interrupts, saying, "I'm going with them," before slamming your door shut and walking back to Taehyung's vehicle.

You attempt to open the door, but the handle moves uselessly, keeping you trapped inside.

"Seat belts!" Seokjin sing-songs with a hint of exhaustion in his tone.

"What happened to Yoongi?" you ask, frantically watching Seokjin, who glances into the rearview mirror with a frown.

"What do you remember about everything that just transpired?"

Searching your memory, you shake your head. It all happened so fast, and Yoongi was behind you, so there was no way to see how he was injured.

"After we sh-shot…" you stammer, unable to finish the sentence, "I pulled out my knife to stab…" you trail off once more and squeeze your eyes closed, realizing now how ridiculous it is that you wanted to continue attacking a man who was already dead. When you open your eyes, Seokjin is still frowning, eyes on you through the rearview mirror. "And then Namjoon took my knife away. So then…what happened to Yoongi?"

Seokjin continues to watch you for just a moment, then he sighs with a light shake of his head, turning his gaze from you to the road. And you want to demand answers, but when he puts the vehicle in drive, the words die on your tongue. You still do not understand, and you spiral, asking yourself the same questions over and over. How could Yoongi have gotten injured? What could have happened to him?

"Seems you got a little carried away and don't fully remember everything," Hoseok says from the passenger seat directly in front of you. "It happens, especially during emotionally intense situations like this. Let's get you home and prioritize the others getting taken care of, and then we will all touch base with what happened."

"Wh-what do you mean by got a little carried away?" you ask, shaken.

Hoseok hums and responds simply, "The rage you seemed to experience, shooting the man repeatedly despite him already being dead and then attempting to turn the brunt of the weapon on him, followed by pulling out your knife…it was a very irrational but very typical drive to continue punishing the man for what he had done." There is a chuckle on his voice as he adds, "I remember my first blind rage."

"Me too," Seokjin responds calmly, eyes on the road.

The unnamed security guard hums mmhmm as Changkyun says, "Me too."

Your eyes well with tears as you attempt to recount everything, but you only remember it in fragments. Jimin crumpling to the ground, you running and lifting your gun, Namjoon lifting you kicking and screaming, and, finally, Yoongi bleeding.

"I don't…fully remember…" you mutter, eyes unfocused on the black leather seat ahead of you.

"Although we do not recommend charging into battle around a corner like that, you may have saved me," Hoseok says with a chipper tone. "My shotgun was empty, and I had been reaching into the glovebox for another gun, but you were quicker on your feet than I was with my hands."

"You only had one gun?" Seokjin asks, turning briefly to Hoseok before looking ahead at the road.

"I know," Hoseok responds with a laugh. "Uncharacteristic, huh? I came out with a glock on my thigh but gave it to Namjoon mid-fight when his clip ran out. Seems none of us were fully anticipating what was to come."

"For once, I had no insider news," Seokjin laments, and you think you hear a pout in his tone. "I miss having someone on the inside."

Although you are sure Seokjin means no offense, there is a very blasé manner in which he seems to be mentioning the death of Hyunjin that makes you stiffen—makes your stomach churn.

Conversation dies down, and you close your eyes with your head tilted against the window. And suddenly, you are coming over the hill with the mansions in view. Yoongi's home has its lights out—save for the security lights outside—and there are no vehicles in the drive. You assume that everyone is at Taehyung's place, and the thought of going home to Yoongi's cold, empty bedroom is daunting.

"Would you like to come with us for the time being?" Seokjin asks, and it takes a few seconds for his words to sink in. You glance up with a start. "I'm not sure how long the others will be, but we have a spare bed you can rest in."

"Or you can attempt to distract yourself with some television," Hoseok suggests.

You nod, unsure whether either of these options sound good, but eager to do anything but return home alone. "Alright," you mutter, swallowing down the overwhelming urge to cry.

"We'll make some hot cocoa and give you a change of clothing," Seokjin recommends, and you nod listlessly, heavy-blinking.

With a sigh, you stare out as Seokjin pulls into the very start of Yoongi's driveway and does a u-turn. Although you have never been to their home, you remember Namjoon telling you that it is on the opposite side as his, meaning their driveway would have been before Yoongi's. And, sure enough, when they pull into the driveway, past the loud metal gate, it is nearly a picture-perfect replica of Namjoon's home.

Hoseok is gentle as he guides you out of the sedan to his front door while Seokjin walks ahead and unlocks it. Although you are surprised by how gelatinous your bones seem to have become, Hoseok appears to have anticipated it, holding you steady around the waist.

Their home décor is nothing like you would have imagined, and you wonder what Victorian-age vampire prince decorated. Everything is crushed velvet with hand-carved accents and gold leaf, similar to Yoongi's home but with more tones of blood red and emerald green. The wainscoted walls are littered with paintings and sconces, and everything is dark wood with upholstery in he same deep shades.

Hoseok runs up the stairs two at a time and quickly returns with a set of black pajamas—a button-down shirt and pants. You change in the downstairs bathroom, which is all gold and black marble, then return to the living room to the smell of hot chocolate and find Hoseok on the nearby chaise clicking through streaming services.

It is not long before you curl up and fall asleep to the soft sounds of low chattering while some drama you have never heard of plays in the background. Twice you wake up screaming to the sight of watching a man's head explode before giving up on sleep and continuing to watch TV while the sun slowly begins to rise.

i'll keep it a secret 비밀로 할게

your corruption and sin 네 부정과 죄

reveal everything 전부 드러내

friendly reminder: there is no major character death tag!!!

only 3 chapters left 😬😬😬 how are we feeling??? everything is going to spiral to the end, and then there will be a sequel (i know i say this a lot but it seems i need to remind some!!! this is not the end the end, but we are building to an end.)

if you would like a laugh, while searching for an ot7 pic that includes yoongi with long hair, the only one i really found with everyone's hair almost correct (jk and sj aren't quite accurate) all i could find was this years festa pics:

imagine the collateral family men in pastels hehe.

also, yoongi wore this outfit to Paradise:

woof woof bark bark bark imagine him in this fit with his long hair and current muscle bulk.

anywayyyyyyyyy thank you so much for reading!!! comments and reblogs make the world go 'round!!! and likes are appreciated!!! stay hydrated, i love you!!!

tag lists will be on separate reblogs! they've gotten too big to contain as one!

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

#yoongi mafia #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #bts mafia #bts smut #bts angst #bts poly #namjoon mafia #jungkook mafia #fic: collateral #Spotify

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mrs-monaghan · 1 year ago

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well, i see that your blog is cock friendly, and even tho its a jikook blog, there is something that i think we should adress (i'm not saying that this could be a reason for jk's crush, im not saying it could not), but...

Namjoon's cock!!!!! I suare, if everything in that body is proporcional, you know, i mean YOU KNOW he is fucking big!

Oh anon I really wish you hadn't gone there.

Now we must talk about JK and his anti Minimoni agenda. We now need to delve into this and get to the root of the issue. We must!

Jimin's hand on RM's lap.

JK: 👀

Love it. Okay let's take a look at some photos, shall we? Jimin's type.

Oh wait, before we proceed, JK's crush on RM i have never thought of it as an actual true crush. I think its played of as such for laughs. But I think JK just really admired him for his talents and what not and I don't think JK is attracted to RM in the slightest. Not even a little bit. Imo.

Now back to Jimin's type. 😁

Number 1) Wonho

Number 2) Black interviewer

Number 3) Usher

Number 4) JB who is basically JK's doppelganger in some of his photos 😅

Number 5) Gonna casually drop Tony

And last but not least Number 6) The main topic:

Jimin has a type. Okay? He likes them muscles and them thick men and them hot men and them arms and chests...and thighs... anyway, Mimi has a type. And while none of the men above hold a candle to his actual boyfriend, you can see the similarities.

Jungtiddies. Check

Thighs. Check

Arms. Check

The whole damn body. Check

Where I'm I going with this you ask? In short what I'm trying to say is, RM is Jimin's type. My friends and I disected this the other day and concluded the JK Minimoni thing probably has something to do with the fact that RM is Jimin's type to a T. JK looks at RM and sees himself. And then add the fact that RM is a genius and JK's insecurity goes through the roof!

(And like anon mentioned, JK has that Jungkonda, yes but on this post I also share what RM is working with so.... like I said. JK & RM, same thing basically 😂)

See, yeah, JK comes between Yoonmin and hates that Suga thirsts over his man. But, he is not threatened by short, skinny legged, with an ass almost as big as Jimin's, Min Yoongi. He knows Jimin will never see Suga that way. So he can dislike how Suga behaves with Jimin, but sometimes he even ignores it and doesn't look bothered at all. But when it comes to Minimoni he just has to insert himself. For eg, I saw something today.

Look at Jimin's face after JK adds in his 2 cents because of course he did

Minimoni moment, JK is like "not today Satan" He refuses for the audience to associate Jimin with RM and its the funniest shit. I mention here how JK inserted himself when Minimoni were practising the own it dance. Even though he wasn't really supposed to be there.

Disclaimer: The following opinions are my own, I will give them but please feel free to form your own

So listen. I will be the first person to tell people to stop treating the Tannies like characters in a fanfic. And I have mentioned many times that there has never been any in house dating (sans Jikook) That just wouldn't work and BTS wouldn't be together if that was the case. So please, please try not to read too much into the following tiny analysis. It's just something a friend pointed out to me and I couldn't believe it myself. It's short and quick, easy to miss. But it shows just how deep this thing with JK and Minimoni goes.

Okay so In the Soop season 2 episode 3 around 6 minutes in. (Thanks @serendipitous-sky)

Jin tells JK to go wake up either Jimin or V. Of course JK goes to wake up Jimin. Duh!

Sidebar, this isn't the point of my post, I just feel the need to point out that Jikook look at cameras ALOT. The whole time he climbed the stairs on the way to Jimin's room he was staring at that camera

If you guys remember correctly, Jimin was kind enough to switch rooms with RM the night before. RM couldn't sleep in the main house due to all the noise. So they swapped. But JK forgot this. So off he goes to what he thinks is still Jimin's room (he cheated/helped Jimin to get this room btw, but that's an analysis for another day) Anyway, back to JK looking for cameras.

If you're looking to mess around with your boyfriend and not get caught its important to find blind spots. So yes, Jikook are always making sure they know exactly where those cameras are. I'm sure y'all get it. 😏😏

Anyway, off he goes into the room and he's surprised to be greeted by RM's snores.

He forgot this wasn't Jimin's room anymore. But guys, here's my thing. JK is here, right? He has heard and seen that that is RM asleep in that bed, right? So you'd expect him to leave, right?

Wrong!! JK goes further into the room!

But why 🤭🤭🤭 that's my question. He had already established that was RM in the bed why did he need to go further into the room? What did he need to see? He literally has no reason to confirm it's RM in that bed when he already knows it is. So my guess is that he wanted to confirm RM was in that bed alone.

Now hear me out, even if Jimin was in that bed lying down fully clothed just shooting the shit with RM, it would not have gone down very well. At all. Shit, would have hit, the fucking fan!

We definitely wouldn't have go10 a season 2 of ITS or anymore BTS for that matter 🤭🤭 I'm just saying, for the sake of a million things, I'm glad RM was in there by himself.

JK as he's leaving says;

And off he goes to look for Jimin. We already know what happens after this. Nothing, coz we were robbed.

But anyway, conclusion: RM is the only one who actually threatens JK. And no this doesn't mean he doesn't trust Jimin. He knows Jimin would never but it doesn't stop him from wanting to make sure everyone most especially RM, remembers who Jimin 'belongs' to.

The End. Stan Namjikook for clear skin

#he he hee #jikook theory #jikook theories #jikook analysis #ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #bts #jimin and jungkook #jimin #jungkook #park jimin #jeon jungkook #kookmin #minkook #jikook bothered #ITS Jikook

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kikiwooo · 2 years ago

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May I request on how would your Aamon and 3 mlbb men of your choosing react if their s/o who has sharp teeth bites them as affection, and on some cases it leaves a mark?

notes: gn reader, biting

| reblogs and comments are appreciated |

don't heart the post, I want fucking reblogs idc that I'm being rude, it's what I deserve.

[ Aamon ]

Aamon has never been bitten in his life, expect for Gusion who bit him when they were still kids.

The first you chomped on him he was outright taken back, immediate he tensed and with amazing senses he pulled you off and looked straight into your eyes. He'll tense everytime you bite him and then try to relax, but don't bite him too hard he might hiss.

Please no, not marks, he can't with marks. Others won't let him take a breath of their teasing, especially his brother, he's trying so hard to cover his neck filled with bite marks.

[ Claude ]

Ohoho, your biting is a huge turn-on for this thief. He's acting like a damn whore, it's irritating. Claude has a thing for your sharp teeth and it's showing.

Everytime you bite him soft or rough, he'll moan out loud and no he's not ashamed of himself not even the slightest. When it gets a bit intimate he's just all hot and bothered biting his lip. Oh and marks :) marks mymfmnfng doesn't hide them quite proud actually.

" HaAh~ s-stOp I'm weAkh theRe-! Ahh~ " " I'm not even biting that hard stop overreacting and stop making this look like you're getting railed- "

[ Brody ]

Brody had always found your way of giving affection weird, but didn't really pushed it, it's what makes you special after all <3 He just can't sit still y'know, he's fidgeting and jumps everytime he feels your teeth forcing itself a bit more onto his skin.

Your bites makes him very happy actually please continue what you're doing <3 he would never admit tho it's embarrassing ok? He struggles a lot to hide the marks, he won't let anyone see them other than himself. They make him special in some kind of way.

[ Hanzo ]

Takes it the worst honestly, Hanzo never understood your biting. Takes it as a way of to show dominance and is ready to fight back. It's all fun and games until your bites starts to leave noticeable marks.

He hates it. However the demon inside him thinks the other way, it's enjoying your biting way more than Hanzo. The complete opposites. He'll actually fight with you please don't test it out. As time passes he'll let you chomp him longer, only for 30 secs[ don't make the 30sec, 30 min joke I swear ], don't get ahead of yourself. If you do however, he'll just sigh and push you off from him.

#mlbb x reader #mobile legends #mobile legends bang bang #mobile legends bang bang x reader #mobile legends x reader #mlbb #gn reader #aamon #aamon x reader #claude #claude x reader #brody #brody x reader #hanzo #hanzo x reader #x reader

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hopefultigress · 2 years ago

Text

SHOWER WITH GREEK GOD

Pairing: min yoongi x reader

Genre: au, smut, established relationship

Word count: 9k

Summary: boring party- drunk y/n- coming home to yoongi showering- making out in the shower.

P.s: trust me my writing has much more details than this summary :D after ages i finally wrote a smut because yoongi posted pov worthy pics on insta, and also my sister couldn't stop forcing me ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

___________________________________

Despite him telling you not to go to that party of your toxic friends you still go, to show them how well off you are now with a diploma in veterinarian and part-time at an adoption center preparing to do a degree in veterinarian. After all the feeling proud moment you start to hate that party real bad. You keep on drinking shots over shorts just to survive in that toxic environment. Before you know it you were drunk and the first thing you did was calling yoongi, as it was Saturday night yoongi was working late but he could still spare some time for your drunk call.

"YoOngi MaRrY mE"

You could hear the chuckle on the other side.

"nO No doN't sHow Me thAt guMmy bEar sMile"

"Kitty, you're drunk" him in a raspy voice.

"I am busy rn I'll send some of my men to pick you up"

In no time Yoongi's most trusted men were at the bar. "Ma'am we need to go"

"ShUt Up i WanNa mArry yoOngi RIGHT NOW..!"

So they just pick you up and put you in the car.

One guard to another, "careful i don't wanna lose my job, uk how important she is to the boss"

By the time you are in the car babbling, yoongi reaches home and starts to freshen up.

You reach home like a mess wanting yoongi desperately. You go to the bathroom to wash your face and see him.

You are too drunk to make out whether it's real or not. So you bang the glass.

"Hi sweety you're home, i missed you. I told you not to go to that boring party, i knew you would come home like this"

But all those words were gibberish to you... all you could see and hear was a 29 year old hot man showering with his long black hair which did no mercy on making you wet.

He wraps a towel on his waist so that you can focus on his face and came out of the shower to check up on you.

"So how was the party, did you have fun. Were you able to meet your friends?"

Your mind is playing unholy and while dancing to its rhythm you slow blink your eyes and all you could see were wet luscious lips moving up and down, you desperately want that movement against your lips so you lean in and claim what's yours.

When your lips meet his, you forget about the evening all together and you realize that all you ever wanted was his lips on yours, he pulls you closer by the waist and your hands are now in his damped long raven hair. He slides his hands under your clothes, unhooking your thongs.

You undress yourself like a good girl you are, he guides you to the shower area, by the time he adjusts the water temperature you swirl his waist towel outside the shower, "we don't need that here"-- and that exact time the water hits you.

Being with Yoongi under the same shower, feeling the warmth of water while your bare skin touches the Greek god skin makes you want him even more. Seeing water dripping down that dove skin makes you drip.

The sight of naked Yoongi leaning in and kissing you is something everyone dreams of, you suck on his lower lip-- him slightly biting it and leaving his marks as always.

You could feel how hard he is– slowly poking you around your sensitives, making you wet.

He trails one of his wet veiny hand down to your shoulder reaching you breasts, he swirls around it while each vein of his hand moves along it, giving it a little squeeze he moves down to your cervix, making little circles around your wet area.

"More than the water you seems wet to me, now be a good kitty and spread it for me"

"Can we skip the teasing part and get to business"

Him while rubbing your vulva, " just a little longer babe- i like to see you desperate for me."

After a cocky comment he slides one of his veiny finger inside you- moving it in circular motion around your walls to touch each area of it. Which makes you moan in pleasure and desperation. "You're such a tease"

But that's the thing you love about him. He just don't wanna make you feel his cock inside you, but also makes you feel loved by exploring each part of your body– by wanting to touch every corner of your body with those veiny hands of his.

Soon he shoves two of his fingers trying to reach the spot. Your head hits the wall and your eyes close in pleasure as he keeps pushing those fingers upward at a rapid pace.

It's twitching your lower tummy, you're in pain but the pleasure is soo muchh that it just overpowers it and makes you feel the pleasure pain feeling which you love.

"Don't worry kitty i am gonna clean you up as well after i make a mess out of you"

He says this every time but you never get bored of it, instead it sends butterflies down to your lower tummy.

"If your pretty little games are over then can i get what i want?"

"You have to ask for it"

You roll your eyes back, "fine.! I need you inside me right now"

"That's like a good kitty"

He moves forward to meet his lips to yours, making each corner of it red– slowly slides his head down to your neck, leaving wet bites and kisses to claim you at the same time pulling you closer to him by the waist, he positions himself between your thighs and rubbing himself against you.

"For God sake fuck me min yoongi"

You feel his smirk on your neck, and before you know it he shoves his manhood inside you. I swear that was the loudest moan of the night. Him being inside you drives you crazy and you can't get enough of it.

As the shower water hits, his long damped hair keeps coming in his face so he pushes them back with his wet veinful arm while thrusting harder into you.

His only purpose to push his hair back was to kiss you. You love the feeling of him kissing you while being deep inside you.

Like a little the Dora the explorer he moves towards your nipples again, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and pulling it until he likes to hear your moans.

He looks up to you, trying to make a photographic memory of gorgeous lady standing right in front of him– loving the feeling of being deep inside you, going in and out

"Faster"

He increases his pace on one command coz no matter how dominant he is, there's no way he's ain't listening to your demands.

Things start to heat up and your bosoms move everywhere with every rapid thrust in your cunt.

He puts his hands on both sides of your waist going faster. You grunt from his fingers seeping into your skin harder and harder. "Damn kitty you're sooo soft" he says lowering his lips on the side of your neck sucking. "Fuck" you say as your right hand finds his neck. You feel yourself build into your climax. You moan out loud feeling your climax coming. He pulls back and looks at you begging for dear life. "Cum for me baby" he says while coming out of you, looking deep in your eyes.

You both wash away the deeds you both did.

"And now it's time for you bath baby"

"Like an actual baby"

he takes some body wash and massage it all over you touching and rubbing every skin on you body to make is crystal clean as promised.

He grabs a towel and ruffles it in you hair before wrapping it around you. Water was still dripping from his long damped hair, naked messed up yoongi standing in front of you– caring for you– loving every ich of you. What more could you ask from life.

You walk out of the bathroom, while you search for his hoodie in the cupboard to wear you see the reflection of half naked Yoongi ruffling his long damped hair in the mirror and even after a hot shower it sends butterflies to you.

Without any delay you snatch that towel from his hand and ruffle those beautiful hairs, it was a dream come true moment for you thus your eyes sprakles as you do it and Yoongi being a total husband material just couldn't stop staring into your eyes with that gummy bear smile on his face.

You have reached the end >_< i hope i am free from all the alligations now! (This note was for my sister •-•)

#oneshot smut bts #bts smut #bts one shot #yoongi oneshot #shower smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x y/n #yoongi thirst #bts × reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts au fanfic #dailybangtan #bts scenarios #bts instagram #yoongi instagram #yoongi long hair #yoongi veins

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militarymenrbomb · 3 months ago

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if you're not into stories, just pass this up.

I don't know if it's true or not, but it's from a Reddit that claims to post true gay military stories from followers.

Hook up in Iraq: part 1 the glory hole at the rec ctr

I was Air Force guy deployed to this location on the lower part of Iraq. I won’t disclosed the name but it’s kinda like NATO cuz they had Italian military that’s it and US of course. There were lots of muscular American civilian security all around. There is a holy site right outside the gate. And you have to go to the rec ctr to make a reservation to see it. That’s when I discovered the gh at the men’s bathroom lol. I went one of the toilet and saw the hole . I almost died laughing . It has a sign , come between 9 pm and- midnight to get serviced. I was who tf did this. It’s not a big base so you kinda remember a few hot military guys if they go to the gym, get their laundry or shop at the px. I got curious so I went the following night and hid on the other stalls. Put an “out of service sign “ cuz no one cleans that bathroom omg ! lol if they do prolly once a week !

I hear footsteps so I put my feet up so no one sees me. The giver is posted and just waiting . lol! He has certain brand of shoe that I can recognize if I see him. I heard second footsteps. I can’t see who it is cuz I’m all the way to the left stall . I heard door closed. And some sucking motions and moaning! lol. I was nervous and excited at the same time that I started jerking off while squatted and trying not to make some noise. He came few mins later and left. I would say about 20 mins later the 2nd guy came . I can see the top of his head cuz he was tall af! Blond hair for sure. Same thing but this time the stalls were rocking like he was fucking him. And they’re both moaning so he must be getting fucked. lol. I was so hard I wanted to cum but I’m like in difficult position lol so I didn’t . I edged and edged . The last guy took about an hour to come in. Nothing special but he tried to open my door I was so scared. Good thing he realized it’s out of service or I would have been busted. Omg! As soon as the receiver left I was so tired so I left through the emergency exit. It’s safe cuz there was no light outside . I scoped it the day before my exit route ! lol! I was trying to see who the shoes belong too but first few weeks I can’t so I gave up! But when I went to pick up my laundry, there was a cute army guy in pt gear who had the same brand of shoes . I never asked or talk to him but every time I see him, I waved at him . He was prolly confused at. lol !

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butterflydm · 1 year ago

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wot reread: a memory of light (ch 5-6)

spoilers through a memory of light, the last book in the series

Rand wakes up next to Aviendha, and goes to the tent entrance to glance at the busy camp, already at work on preparing for the day. "Everyone knew these were their last moments before the storm arrived".

2. Aviendha sneaks up on Rand, delighted that she managed to succeed despite the bond. She had to move very slowly and carefully but she manages to startle him when he turns around to see her right there, still naked.

Yeah, if I were restructuring WoT as a whole, I think I would place the bond way later in time than it happened in the books. Like "last night" late. Still have the love confessions happen in WH (and Rand finally sleeping with Elayne) but don't have Elayne suggest bonding yet (honestly, when you look at Rand's arc as a whole, it's kinda weird that he's willing to agree to bonding at that time).

And when Rand sneaks off with Nynaeve, he should leave Min behind in Caemlyn too, which would (a.) actually give Min time to bond with Elayne & Aviendha and (b.) actually let Rand be genuinely emotionally alone and isolated for the arc where we're constantly being TOLD that he's alone and isolated and finally (c). be a much better reason why Min never tells Rand that Elayne is pregnant than 'doesn't remember due to being blackout drunk from jealousy'. Then Aviendha trains when she's in Caemlyn, and instead of going to Arad Doman with the rest of the Wise Ones, she goes to Rhuidean at that point (since Min is still in Caemlyn; you could have the Semirhage thing be a non-romantic moment where Rand breaks through to save Nynaeve or one of the Maidens). And then the actual bonding happens once the four of them are all reunited in Merrilor before the Last Battle. Plus, this means that Alanna stays important to the story as Cadsuane's Rand mood-ring.

Anyway, obviously not something that Jordan could have done, because he had not yet written all the parts that would need to be restructured. But in an ideal world. Because as it is, after the bond happens in WH, it's extremely underutilized. And Rand doubting that he can really love all three of them without that being an issue between them makes a lot more sense if he hasn't already experienced their affection through the bond.

3. Also, Rand being able to feel the land here ("The Dragon is one with the land" as we were told in EotW) is really neat and I like it a lot. He can feel the life of the land and also how precarious it all is.

4. There's still a bit of a culture clash going on, as Rand is puzzled at how Aviendha can find their first time together (back in TFoH) to now be something that can't be talked about at all (because she has met her toh over it to Elayne), which I like. They were raised in very different cultures. Aviendha also has definitely accepted here the idea that she plans to live in the wetlands, post-Last Battle, and is faintly wistful that they have no time for a bath before the big meeting (in one hour).

5. Ah, and Aviendha here shows us that it seems likely that the Aiel, out of all the nations, may have the easiest time of adjusting to the notion of men being able to channel now that saidin is clean -- she says that concern over men channeling now would be like refusing to forget toh after it has been met. This makes a lot of sense to me when I think about it -- we know that Aiel men who can channel historically left their clans to go face an honorable death in the Blight (even if we've just learned in this book that was being thwarted by the Dark One) so the Aiel haven't really been villainizing male channelers the way that so many cultures have done.

And Rand uses the One Power to give them a shared shower together. A nice hot shower like they used to have in the AoL. Aviendha does not find Rand's ancient memories at all off-putting, the way that Min did. She just teases him that he was easier to manage before he had his new ancient wisdom. They are being so cute together. 🥰🥰🥰

6. But, yeah, I love how Rand feels comfortable talking about the Age of Legends and what "we" did back then with Aviendha, with no worries that she's going to judge him or freak out on him. She 100% teases him and gives him shit about it, though. And when she criticizes the AoL attitudes as naive, he agrees with her. This is also when she requests her future 'boon' from Rand and while it would definitely be nice if she just... told him about her vision, I love the way that she makes her request, because it's couched in a way that is full of not denying his consent in the matter and with respect for her partner:

"Rand, today, I will request a boon."

"What boon? I'm not certain I could deny you anything today, Aviendha."

"I'm not certain yet what it will be."

"I don't understand."

"You needn't understand. And you needn't promise me you will agree. I felt I needed to give you warning, as one does not ambush a lover. My boon will require you to change your plans, perhaps in a drastic way, and it will be important."

Also, on a physical level, I like that Rand likes how rough Aviendha's hands are. <3

7. We switch to Egwene's PoV at this point. In this book, there has been a lot of mid-chapter PoV swapping and I'm not certain that I like it. I mean, that's kinda the reason that Sanderson gave for why he cut scenes like the bridal wreaths scene -- because it might have felt frivolous when set against the attack on Caemlyn (but Perrin and Rand yukking it up didn't??) -- but if there was less mid-chapter PoV swapping, then you could add more of those character beats in without it feeling jarring, because you could continue the story on to move back to a serious plot beat before swapping to the Black Tower storyline in the next chapter or whatnot. It's a self-created problem, is what I'm saying. Jordan would occasionally do mid-chapter PoV swaps but it was much more sparing. I understand the urge to always have the scene be in what you feel is the 'most effective' PoV for that part of the scene but sometimes the story is stronger as a whole if you don't constantly do that. I feel like maybe the PoV swapping extravaganza should possibly have been saved for chapter 37.

8. Egwene is trying to interpret her dreams while they happen. A glass column of light; trying to hold the world together and it continuing to break under her hands. When she wakes up, she's temporarily disorientated, because she's sleeping in a different room than normal, with her own room in the White Tower still being put to rights after the attempted assassination. She's been commuting to the Field of Merrilor, essentially, lol.

Gawyn reads a letter about the latest news from Caemlyn and they talk about "the Seanchan woman" (aka Leilwin née Egeanin) who Nynaeve has said won't cause them any 'intentional' harm. A glowing endorsement! Egwene, much like Rand, is worried that they will have to fight the Seanchan and the Trollocs at the same time (another thing that Mat is sheltered from -- from what I recall, I don't think he ever finds out how much danger all his friends were in from his slaver wife, because the narrative needs to keep the illusion alive for Mat for as long as possible).

9. Hundreds of thousands of people are reported dead in the Caemlyn attack. That's hundreds of thousands of lives that Mat could have saved if he'd been slightly less mistrusting of Aes Sedai. And the city itself is lost, at least for now. The city had also housed much of the planned food supply for Elayne's troops for the Last Battle, also now lost. They also get word of the time for the day's big meeting, and it's in half an hour, so they get moving. (Gawyn suggest letting Rand wait but Egwene says it would be a bad idea to allow Rand to fully set the narrative for the upcoming meeting).

10. Every nation but Murandy, Arad Doman, and the Seanchan-held lands is represented at this meeting. Darlin (of Tear) is worried deeply about the Seanchan threat to his lands, we learn, and so will stand with Egwene if need be, because she has promised him Gateways back to Tear, if he should need to bring his army back to face the Seanchan. But both Darlin and Gregorin (the steward of Illian) tell Egwene that Rand is willing to listen to reasonable arguments. See Egwene's worries here about how much she could trust 'the man he had become' would resonate a lot more in general, if her last meeting with Rand had been ruthless!Rand.

She is surprised to see that, despite what she'd thought going into this meeting, that the flag of Arad Doman is present after all. And so is the flag of Murandy. So only the Seanchan-held lands are not present.

11. Rand arrives, wearing red and gold, and with a carpet of fresh grass growing under his feet (because he's One with the Land <3). The impact that this would have had if she'd only seen ruthless!Rand in ToM and not zen!Rand. It's still pretty good but it could have been an even bigger moment for Egwene. The grass spreads outward until the entire area that the leaders are standing on is covered in green. Egwene sends Gawyn off to see if one of the Aes Sedai & Asha'man pairs will spill the beans on what weave Rand might be using to cause such an effect.

12. He has a large floating bundle that unravels as he walks, setting an enormous pavilion ahead on the green. Egwene reluctantly admires his showmanship, lol. Without breaking stride, he tells all the gathered leaders that they can bring five people with them each, and then heads into the tent. lol at Min being a prop just like the saidin glowbulbs are props. There she is, clinging to Rand's arm like a bracelet, as has been her duty since fucking A Crown of Swords. The Hero's Reward For His Sacrifices And Suffering. When I think of how interesting Min's storyline could have been and then think of how pointless it has been... it's just really sad and frustrating.

Okay, actually, here's a good time to mention an element of weird: Elayne just casually mentioned to Egwene that Aviendha spent the night with Rand. So, off-screen, Elayne has apparently shared the whole "all three of us love him and are in a relationship with him" thing with Egwene, because Egwene has zero thoughts or feelings about the fact that Elayne is pregnant with Rand's kids, Aviendha spent the night with him, and Min is stapled to him today. This is the same woman who believed in ToM that Gawyn shouldn't share a bedroom with her because they were unmarried, mind you. And she has zero thoughts or feelings about Rand hooking up with three different women while not married to any of them; she just recites the facts without any kind of response to them. You'd think that this would come up when she was thinking about how much he'd changed from the boy she used to know!

I say again, definitely not for the first time:

Stop having important emotional moments happen off-screen!

13. When Elayne enters the tent, she and Rand smile at each other, and Egwene is like "ugh, how can she be so pleased and impressed with him!" before reluctantly admitting that she feels some pride in how much he has accomplished as well. When Perrin ("and his wife") and Nynaeve come in, they go stand by Rand, as does Cadsuane. But again, Egwene apparently has no opinion about Min clinging to Rand while Elayne smiles at him from the other side of the tent. Egwene is not a character who is shy about having opinions!

14. Rand thought that the king of Murandy might be Demandred, I'm guessing, by the way all his people went on alert and him going to stare at the guy and then going, "you're not him. Where is he?" but poor Egwene is so baffled by this.

Rand lays out the situation and says that one of the big problems of the last Age is that they weren't all united against the Shadow -- each general led on their own (with LTT being just as guilty of this fault as anyone else). Another emotional beat that kinda fell by the wayside of hurrying to the ending: whenever Rand has revealed in the past that he has LTT's memories, it caused a lot more concern and fuss over his potential madness. Again, I do get why Sanderson would be like "we don't have time for that" but I do feel the need to note it.

15. Rand talks here about how he wants to prevent another Breaking, wants to prevent conflict from breaking out the moment that he's dead.

Ah, I wonder if Egwene's bizarrely uncharitable "Even Elayne had gobbled up another country" thought here is part of what contributed to the whole "Elayne is acting out of power-hunger" fandom belief even though we were actually told in Elayne's own PoV thoughts back in ToM that Elayne is acting out of thinking about the future and the looming threat of the Seanchan Empire. Between Birgitte's increasingly bitter PoV and Egwene throwing Elayne under the bus with the other rulers, readers choose to believe them over Elayne's own actual internal thoughts about her reasoning behind her choices. Though I feel like part of the issue there is how shortchanged the Elayne Takes Cairhien plotline ended up being -- if we'd spent more time getting to see Elayne navigate the politics of it, like we got to see with Caemlyn, then we would have gotten more of Elayne's own thoughts on the reasoning to balance everything out.

16. At this point, Rand presents "the Dragon's peace" -- one of the three things that he says he requires in exchange for him giving up his life to save the world.

Hmm, I wonder if getting Elayne's genuine reaction here was part of the reason that Rand has kept his distance from her? This way, the other rulers see her reaction alongside them and think of her as aligned with them instead of aligned with Rand?

I do feel like I don't really have any good idea here of whether or not the random leaders of the world know that Elayne and Rand are in a relationship but if I assume that they mostly don't, then that's an actual reason for Min to be clinging to Rand's arm here... but then Elayne kinda punctures that idea later in the scene and it kinda seems like, off the page, everyone did get a debriefing on the "so, the Dragon Reborn has three girlfriends, let's not make a big thing about it" issue. I feel like this is not something I should be so confused about at this point in the story, lol.

And I feel like this scene would make more sense if people (especially those not firmly on Rand's side) DON'T know about Rand and Elayne's relationship, because then Min clinging to Rand as a very visible "Hey! Look at me! Mistress to the Dragon Reborn!" distraction technique would make more sense (as part of a thing that the polycule worked out on purpose) and make her choice to do that seem more strategic and less like she's peeing all over Rand in public to make her claim on him. But, again, Elayne publicly telling Rand "I love you" later in this scene ruins that theory and we go back to 'Min feeling the need to reassert her claim after Aviendha slept with Rand last night' because we didn't get to actually see a scene where Min has been okay with the polycule and we've been left with possessive & jealous Min as our only 'on-screen' Min (didn't have to be the bridal wreaths scenes -- any scene of the three of them actually talking would have been nice to get! Bonus points if Rand is actually part of the discussion too!).

17. Egwene cuts off the discussions on this to ask after Rand's other two requests -- the first is that he essentially wants Egwene's blessing on breaking the seals (though he plans to do it even if he doesn't get her blessing). But this leads up to Egwene and Rand having a big argument and... tbh, I don't envy Sanderson for needing to come up with a reason for Egwene and Rand to be so ~at odds~ in this last moment so that Moiraine can swoop in to save the day because it really makes no sense that they can't come to terms with each other! I'm not sure there's any argument that could have been worked up here that wouldn't feel at least a little artificial.

Given the paths that they've both walked to this point, it feels somewhat infantilizing that they need mom holding their hands in order to stop fighting with each other. If the reason you 'kill off' the mentor is to allow the students to reach their full potential, it really does kinda stifle/reverse that growth if it ends up that the mentor needs to come back to fix things.

Oh, and to quote Sanderson's retrospective on Moiraine coming back:

In his notes, Robert Jordan was very specific about the fact that Rand and Egwene needed to almost come to blows in the lead-up to the Last Battle. He called it the grand union of the armies against Rand, whose decisions were considered too radical, too dangerous, to be allowed to proceed. Moiraine was to be the force that brought the two of them together, unifying the armies of light, cementing her importance—and showing why she needed to be rescued by Mat before the Last Battle. (There were a lot of instructions about what Moiraine was to say, and some good writing on that meeting at the Field of Merrilor.)

Just in the interest of having all the appropriate information.

18. Random side note, I love Berelain's reaction to Rand's treaty (it really would be a huge blessing to teeny tiny countries like Mayene!). I just adore her basically going "two thumbs up, five stars, no notes" to the Dragon's Peace. But Berelain has been such a strong & loyal supporter of Rand for a very long time (and deserves a lot more credit for it than the books were willing to give her). idk it's a fun little side note.

19. Oh, and Rand's last request is that he wants full control over the armies for the Last Battle rather than everyone controlling their own army.

Yeah, Egwene thinks here that Rand is acting very much like an Aes Sedai (which feels like a counter-balance to Rand going all, "You're Not Like The Other Aes Sedai to Nynaeve" -- or, I guess, I would say that it counts as evidence that Rand's PoV in that chapter in ToM IS meant to be his own biased PoV and not the objective truth about Aes Sedai), and we also have her thinking that she can tell he still has strong emotions going on underneath the surface but that he's got them under much better control than before.

20. So, yeah, knowing that at least some of what Moiraine says and does here in the tent at Merrilor came directly from Jordan's notes does make me wonder how much that shaped some of the other plot points that happen in this discussion.

21. Man, I do not love having this chapter start out in Perrin's PoV. That really feels like the most useless of the potential PoVs. Either Rand or staying with Egwene would be so much better imo.

Anyway, we are in Perrin's PoV as we see Moiraine enter, and Perrin wonders why Mat isn't with Moiraine and he gets a vision of Mat... "on a horse, riding along a dusty road, tinkering with something he held". I will... hold off my thoughts about that until we actually get to a Mat PoV and I can evaluate it properly. But, just as a reminder: at the end of ToM, Mat was planning to return to Caemlyn and was suggesting that Moiraine do the same so that she could speak to Elayne before trying to talk to Rand. And the group of three did not bring any horses to the Tower of Ghenjei.

22. lol so much at Moiraine just blowing off any attempt to give Mat, Thom, or Noal/Jain credit for saving her and going right to "the Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills". Reminds me so much of people who attribute life-saving medical intervention to a miracle from a god and not the doctors & nurses who actually saved their lives. The real reason Mat isn't here: so that he doesn't die from anger & frustration at his sacrifice being completely brushed off by Moiraine.

Perrin also notes the presence of Thom coming in after Moiraine.

23. Rand kneels before Moiraine until she tells him not to, Egwene welcomes her back to the White Tower, and Nynaeve gives her a hug (as sweet as the Nynaeve hug is, I still think she would be better served being in the Black Tower plotline right now). Anyway, Moiraine Fixes Everything by giving everyone present a lecture on how they need to trust Rand and quoting prophecy at them until they give up and agree to go along with him.

24. Also, both the Aes Sedai and the Asha'man are randomly using the Power to smack anyone who protests Moiraine's presence/importance (which kinda does feel like another Jordan Throwback and not one that I super-enjoy).

25. What's weird is that Perrin thinks of Grady as "one of the nearby Asha'man" here but... he should be the person who brought Moiraine and Thom to Merrilor? How is he already at this meeting as one of Rand's Asha'man? How did Moiraine and Thom get here if Grady was already present? Moiraine has been stuck in the Tower of Ghenjei and so didn't have a chance to learn how to Travel yet. Grady was the one opening Gateways to the Tower of Ghenjei in order to retrieve Mat & co once they were done with their task. Did Grady bring Moiraine and Thom to Perrin's camp, and then leave and go over to Rand (without telling him about it), and then Moiraine and Thom eavesdropped on the meeting until the ~most dramatic moment~ for her to enter and save the day? Not that this is necessarily out of character for Moiraine, of course, but... that should mean that Mat is here too, because Mat was with Moiraine and Thom. The logistics of this are not adding up for me.

26. One of the Aes Sedai (Perrin doesn't know her name) points out that even if they all agree here to the Dragon's Peace, there's a huge flaw remaining -- the Seanchan.

...wow, Mat really should be here for this conversation. I'm feeling sorta like I did at the start of Crossroads of Twilight, where it feels like the author decided to do a major swerve from what was set up in the previous books. Logistically, Mat should have come to Merrilor with Moiraine & Thom... it's honestly difficult to see how he possibly avoided it? Assigned Gateway-maker Grady is at Merrilor. Literally right here, in this meeting. Perrin just mentioned him.

Logically: Mat should have arrived at Merrilor, mentioned that he had been planning to return to Caemlyn (for the Band & Olver) and found out that Caemlyn was attacked (learning from Talmanes that the knowledge of the attack was in the letter that Verin had left for him). This would bring his arc re: mistrusting Aes Sedai to an appropriate conclusion: mistrusting Aes Sedai so strongly has led to massive death on a scale as bad as anything in his war memories. Then Mat should have learned that the only thing holding back the potential peace for the world post-Last Battle is the Seanchan. He finds out how worried everyone is that the Seanchan will attack, either while the Last Battle is happening or afterwards.

Then, as a show of self-sacrifice (and guilt over letting Caemlyn be attacked), Mat tells Rand & co about his marriage and volunteers to be the one to go to Fortuona, to make one last desperate attempt at a peace treaty before the Last Battle. Because of his marriage, he's the best person for the job (making his marriage actually matter in the narrative and giving it a reason to have a prophecy about it).

Before he goes through a Gateway to Ebou Dar, he and Rand talk about Rand's LTT memories and Rand confesses to Mat that he believes that he genuinely is insane but that he has control of himself (basically shift over those two conversations that Perrin had with Rand earlier, the ones that felt like they had zero relevance to Rand and Perrin's friendship). This would bring Mat's arc re: Rand and the role of the Dragon Reborn to an appropriate emotional conclusion.

And this would mean that the Emond's Field Five actually all get to reunite before the Last Battle kicks off!

27. "I see what you're trying to do, Rand, and I love you for it." This is the wtf moment that kinda throws the 'what DO all the various random rulers know about Rand's relationships?' question into the pot. Visibly pregnant Elayne saying this to Rand while another woman was desperately clinging (silently) to his arm only minutes ago should be raising so many questions and red flags for the various rulers who are present here. Especially since Rand doesn't publicly reciprocate her affection here. I feel like just having Elayne say, "I see what you're trying to do, Rand, but that does not remove the fact that this document is fundamentally untenable" would have made a lot more sense here. There's no point to Rand and Elayne avoiding spending time with each other if Elayne is also throwing out 'I love you's in public. Pick a lane, essentially. But Rand agrees to add the provision that if the Seanchan do not sign to the treaty, then the document as a whole is void.

28. Elayne says that only addresses the problem of the Seanchan and not the issue of how to enforce the treaty, which is what leads to Aviendha speaking up and telling Rand that she wants the boon that she'd requested earlier -- that the Aiel be treated the same way as the wetlanders in the treaty. Rand says that leaving them out of the agreement was meant as an expression of his trust and Aviendha tells him that it is an insult instead.

(and it is not the Aiel themselves who say that war is their purpose or that they are tools; they actually respond negatively to the suggestion -- it's Rand and Perrin, wetlanders who both canonically have the bad habit of using their people as tools, who make that comparison)

But anyway, the Aiel are written into the document as the official enforcers of the peace.

Hmm, we do get this cute moment from Perrin here that Elayne 'smells' proud of Rand even as she continues to 'stare daggers' at him, lol. But just like Egwene, Perrin has no thoughts on the whole "Rand has multiple girlfriends" situation.

Moiraine asks Rand how he plans to lead the armies if he's going to Shayol Ghul, so that's now an open question.

29. I do feel the need to point out: Aviendha is here spearheading the Aiel & the Wise Ones; Elayne is here representing Caemlyn & Cairhien; and they are both vocal in this meeting and actively facing and talking with Rand as equals. Min... is silently clinging to Rand's arm. And the saddest thing is that this is perfectly representative of them in the series as a whole, too. Aviendha and Elayne both have other things going on and get to be fully-realized characters and people, while Min... not so much, and the story has to keep trying to manufacture ways to occupy her time* because once she leaves Salidar, she has literally nothing else going on in her life but clinging to Rand.

(*hilariously, it's usually something that someone else had already discovered or realized earlier in the series -- ex. Rand himself has the realization about needing to break the seals all the way back at the start of Lord of Chaos, long before Min arrives in Caemlyn; or there's that time she uncovered the flaw in Callandor... that Cadsuane had already told Rand about in an earlier book)

30. As Faile brings up some pertinent questions about the Seanchan, Mat not being here at this meeting feels so weird and jarring. It makes zero narrative or purely logistical sense.

The question: if the Seanchan sign this document, does that give them formal permission to keep all the people they've enslaved and the lands that they've conquered? And are they allowed to kidnap and enslave anyone who crosses their borders (women who can channel in particular)? Very important questions and ones that Mat needed to hear being brought up. Shielding him from any of this, like he's a toddler who is too young to hear the truth about the world, doesn't help anyone, especially not him.

31. Rand says that he will go to the Seanchan after this meeting, either to find a way to get them to sign this treaty or to find a way to destroy their ability to make war (guessing this would be something to do with the damane -- maybe springing all their collars with the Power all at once?). So Rand still considers fighting the Seanchan to be a very viable possibility for him at this time.

Here is the point in the meeting when Mat (who should be here) would speak up and say, "I'll go and talk to her first" because he's just found out that the other option is Fortuona getting killed by his best friend and/or Fortuona attempting to kill his friends & people.

"We cannot have them striking at our backs when we attack the Shadow."

lol, Min silently takes Rand's arm again as the rulers proceed with the treaty signing.

32. When it comes time for Elayne to sign (she's last), she notes that it's a difficult thing that Rand is asking of her, and he gives her the control of the armies of the Last Battle. Though some of the leaders push back against the idea, none of them do so based on the whole "you two are romantically linked" conflict-of-interest idea, so I once again have to wonder what exactly all the random rulers know about their relationship (maybe they just assume Elayne is very free with her 'I love you's).

33. The question of the Seanchan is brought up again, and Rand says that he will see what he can do about trying to trade with the Seanchan to get their people back (from what we saw in Aviendha's visions, this is a trade that Fortuona and her successors refused in the alternate future) and try to persuade them to return back over the sea but if worst comes to worst "if forced to it, I am content to allow them the lands they have, so long as they do not spread further".

"Thousands are enslaved," Egwene points out.

"What's done is done," Rand says. Yikes. He does follow this up with, "Let us worry about the world first, then do what we can for those held captive" so again, he's not letting the Seanchan entirely off the hook here -- he's leaving an explicit opening for the leaders to push the Seanchan on this in the future. But, you know, saying "what's done is done" about people being kidnapped into slavery is extremely Yikes.

We also get the pro-'strongman' yikes argument of "the lands they have taken have benefited from strong leadership", which is something that Jordan first brought up in TPoD as propaganda that the Seanchan were spreading but wasn't actually true (as we heard stories about how violent the Seanchan mainland still was, with uprisings and civil wars), was treated as an article of faith by Fortuona in CoT & KoD even as we were cut off from hearing any counter-arguments, and now is basically taken as literally true.

And, once again, I feel the need to point out that the 'strong leadership' that Rand is praising is mostly the work of Darkfriend Suroth and Forsaken Semirhage, as Fortuona was ~under the veil~ during her first weeks in Ebou Dar and so in a weird in-between place as far as her authority went, then kidnapped and missing for at least a month and maybe closer to two or three months, and has only recently been returned to power. So this is more an argument in praise of the Dark One than the Seanchan, though Rand (and I guess Sanderson) doesn't realize it.

34. Things are getting bad in the Borderlands, we find out, as we check in with Lan.

Yeah, I feel like this section here would have been enough to illustrate how bad things were getting without us needing the attack on Caemlyn. Too many battles, not enough character moments! (especially if Mat isn't there to face his failure with Caemlyn and Verin's letter, making it all feel much more pointless and 'battle for the sake of battle')

Right when Lan believes that he's facing his last stand, Gateways open up and reinforcements pour in from Merrilor. And Lan is relieved that what he thought was his death becomes "a promising battle" instead.

This is a pretty nice, upbeat moment to end this section of the reread on, I think, since I feel like it's gotten long enough. I had a lot to say about the big meeting, lol.

#wot reread #wot #wheel of time #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #elayne trakand #rand al'thor #perrin aybara #moiraine damodred #egwene al'vere #mat cauthon

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