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t-a-a-1 · 24 days ago

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The Darkest Hour

Ch.3: Personal Reasons

Summary:

After being labeled as crazy for trying to report that robot aliens exist on national television, you lose your job and move to Jasper City. In a drastic turn of fate, you meet Optimus Prime. You and Team Prime get together to find ancient relics that are vital to the Autobot's cause.

Along the way, you and Optimus start to develop feelings that go beyond comradeship.

But what happens when he discovers you've been lying all of this time?

……..

This story is a slow burn. Eventual smut. Optimus develops an unhealthy attachment (he is smitten, obsessed) to you but nothing OOC. Lots of yearning, craving, hurt, betrayal, erotic and that good stuff. Ok bye. In case of any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, requests, etc. You may message me here. Thank you for reading!

For a better reading experience you can read this story on Ao3:

>>>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60642838/chapters/154846393

Ch.3: Personal Reasons

"So, one dot and a line is 'A' and a line and three dots is 'B'."

You had spent some time with Bumblebee to realize he was speaking in Morse code. You weren't fluent but you thought that studying and learning it should help you become more proficient.

The base is quieter than usual. Everyone but Ratchet was out on a mission to gather Energon. He is always working, you haven't seen him take a break from his enormous computer or what you assumed to be one. That's what you called it because you couldn't find a better word to describe it. Probably a Cybertronian data screen was a better option.

"So, have you found out the function of the ancient relic?"

You walk towards him on the platform. He didn't spare you a single second and kept typing.

"No, but I believe is part of something bigger," Ratchet says as he seems to be reading a scan. "A map may be."

"Interesting," you try to peak on his screen although you know that you won't understand any of it.

"When I was looking over the codes, it didn't say anything about a map. Although I haven't checked the rest of the documents for more information."

"How was a human like you able to decipher ancient codes that led to Cybertronian relics?

You didn't like the sound of the voice, as it belittled you. Thinking about it for two seconds, you decided to give it a pass. You didn't know if he asked out of genuine curiosity or because he was trying to satisfy his superiority complex.

"I don't read Cybertronian but there were some pictures I was able to figure out. After that, it wasn't that difficult really," you remember seeing a few paintings and historical places on the documents provided to you by your government insider. All of them have an inner message related to space.

"But it's understandable if a Cybertronian can't figure it out. The codes are centered on Earth's nearby celestial bodies. You know, like stars, constellations, comets, meteors, planets."

"That's ... interesting," his tone simulates yours. "If these are Cybertronian relics then why made the codes for something only humans can understand?"

"Well, maybe what we are looking for is not meant to be found by the transformers."

"Maybe, but we should find all the relics before jumping to conclusions," he finally, turns to look at you. A sign to tell you that what he is saying is important. "And find them quickly before the Decepticons find out what we are doing."

"Then we should head out soon."

"This would be easier if the ground bridge was working," Ratchet turns to look at his side. You follow, noticing an arc made of metal. It didn't look like much but according to the doctor bot, it allows travel through the entire Earth in seconds.

"But I've been having trouble trying to fix it."

"At this point, I'll just have to fly myself out there."

"Wait, you can fly?"

He asks with such more genuineness that you find it adorable.

"I mean as taking an airplane."

Ratchet vents heavily, he was disappointed at your answer.

"Well, meanwhile I try to work on the ground bridge. Maybe you can head out with the rest to the second closet location from here."

On the data-screen, a location appears. A relic seems to be inside the Big Bend National Park in Texas. It will take roughly a day to get to oil land.

"Just let me know so I can ask for a few days off work. Although I wish I could help more."

You were never one to stay still in one place. Especially when you see Ratchet working so relentlessly and everyone is out there probably fighting the bad guys.

"If you want to be more efficient, why don't you quit your job and stay here?"

How easy would that be? To just give up and live a life full of excitement and adventures with the Autobots. But you had a rare sense of justice. Within you, it was your duty to tell the truth to the people. They were the lie and you had to expose them. And of course ... getting a little praise on the way.

"Because I need money to buy food. I'll die if I don't eat."

This was also true. It would be hard for him to believe you if you weren't being fully honest.

"If your kind needs 'food' to survive ... Why do you need to work to gain it? Shouldn't it be easily accessible? Free perhaps?"

"Yes, but our civilization is not as advanced with such concepts," you loved changing topics and also seeing the perspective of humans in another species' eyes ... or better say optics.

"How barbaric," Ratchet intonates his voice, it was rather comical to you.

"Agreed."

After a few minutes, you hear the sound of car engines approaching. You look at where the sound is coming from and certainly, the Autobots started showing up.

They transform back to their normal form, standing tall and well beyond 30 feet. You see them more often now but you are still fascinated by them.

Everyone gives you a look, acknowledging your presence.

"How was it?" Ratchet asks. He sees them coming in empty-handed and has already expected an answer. But he asked for more details than results.

"We couldn't find anything," Bulkhead's voice is tired. You didn't even know how that was possible, supposing the machines don't get tired. But you have to remind yourself that they are living creatures. Not things.

"We are running out of Energon reserves."

"What about you? Please tell us some good news," Arcee asks as she looks over to Ratchet.

"Tragically, I have none," Ratchet says, taking the time to step aside from his work to talk to the group. "The groundbringe still needs to be worked on."

Everyone waited for Optimus' orders. After a few moments, he speaks.

"Due that we are low on Energon reserves, (Y/N) and I will search for the next relic. Everyone else shall stay here and continue on the search for Energon."

"The closest relic is one day away," Ratchet looks at his data-screen where a blue dot stands out on the map. "So we better find some Energon by the time you come back."

"I am counting on you."

The Autobots don't say a word. They never needed to in order to understand each other. They can't fail.

You type furiously on your computer as Optimus keeps driving. The are a few bumps on the road, the movement makes your screen shake. It made writing and reading difficult. Your head is starting to hurt for staring too long at the screen but you can't stop.

"You seem distracted."

Optimus voice interrupts your process but you don't take off your eyes from the screen.

"I asked four days off work to come. I've been missing a lot and the only way they would approve my PTO is if I finish two scripts and upload it by tonight."

The next relic should be found in Texas, which is around a day from Nevada without stopping. Yet, you are a bit worried about the bot. You don't know if Optimus gets tired and you wanted to suggest resting somewhere in the woods so he could rest ... or re-charge.

"If you so wished, you could have stayed at the base. You didn't have to come."

He is right. The coordinates of the relic had already been figured out.

"And become more useless than I already am?" you proofread your script. See a couple of mistakes and a few sentences that didn't sound right. You quickly click on the back-space, deleting your previous work. Who would have thought that writing about a grandma turning one hundred could be so difficult?

"Besides, trucks have stops and inspections. What will the transportation officers say when they see an 18-wheeler driving by itself?"

You were so engrossed that Optimus' silence went unnoticed. As you finished writing your script and clicking on the period key, you looked up and noticed the road in front of you. It's starting to get dark. Then you turn to look to the co-pilot seat.

There, you find a young man around your age. Dark blue hair, ocean-eyes. Wearing a white shirt with a denim jacket. He doesn't smile but stares intensely at you.

You scream and throw your computer at him.

"PRIME THERE IS AN UGLY MAN INSIDE!"

The man caught the computer and looks at you with a confused face.

"This is my human hologram form," Optimus says, putting a hand on his chest. You were so used to hearing his voice on his robot or car form that watching it coming from a human version feels strange. "This is the form I use in case I am stopped by the authorities."

You reach out a hand, thinking your hand would go through him. It was not the case as you touched his shoulder. Grasping it so tightly, the clothes felt real. He almost did. But he feels cold and doesn't breathe. His chest nor shoulders move up and down. And his posture is too straight to be that of a human.

This once again reminded you that Cybertronian technology was millions ahead compared to Earth's which was primitive. To them, this was a simple 'hologram' because there wasn't a better word for your species to understand it. To you, this kind of technology was just beyond comprehension.

"If you have this hologram then why keep using cars as a disguise? Wouldn't this be a better way to blend in with our civilization?"

You reach out to take your laptop and take it from the grasp of the hologram quickly. Somehow you trusted Optimus' robotic version more than this hologram man.

"We can only use these holograms within 100 meters of our actual being," Optimus says. "Or if we have someone or something with a transmitter being kept at a close distance."

"I see," you give the hologram a stinky eye and Optimus wonders the reason behind your cold demeanor towards him. "Can you put him back? I like you much more as you actually are."

In the blink of an eye, the hologram disappears and you feel relieved. You didn't notice it but you feel the air of the vents touch your cheeks more strongly.

You were about to go back to work when you heard your stomach make embarrassing sounds. You were hungry, you hadn't eaten all day.

"Hey, Prime, can we make a stop?"

The gas station wasn't the nicest. It smells like piss. But there were burritos and against your lack of better judgment and hunger, you decide to buy one with egg filling. You looked around the store and bought some car stuff just in case Optimus was hungry. He couldn't possibly just drink Energon ... right?

You walk with a plastic bag and a burrito in hand. Opening the door to get inside Optimus' vehicle form. You close the door so no one can hear you talking to 'yourself.'

"Did you find everything you needed?" Optimus asks, anxious to get back on the road.

"Yes, and I also brought you some stuff."

Carelessly, you move the plastic bag upside down, the items falling down on the co-pilot seat.

"I got you oil from all kinds of brands." You also bought a lemon car air freshener. You stood up from your seat and put it in Optimus' rear mirror. "Pick your poison."

You sit back down while taking a big bite of your burrito.

"My apologies but if I were to drink oil, it would impair my ability to drive."

"How? I thought oil was good for cars," you chew into the food, tasting the egg and something else. Another ingredient you didn't ask for.

"Oil is good for maintenance but if we drink large quantities of it, our processor can become disoriented and there can be certain impairment in some functions-"

As Optimus continues talking, you spit the food in your mouth into your hand. On it, you could see scrambled eggs and pieces of steak. Steak that was still too pink for your liking and could still taste the blood on your tongue.

You open Optimus' door and run to the nearest trashcan. Vomiting what you just had and the entire of yesterday's dinner. It wasn't just that the food disgusted you, but the memories that were brought back were still too present. The smell of burned skin. It's as if you've gone back there. The screams, the death, the blood ... The blood in your hands was still too real for it not to affect you.

All the while, the Autobot leader watched, concerned for your safety and most importantly curious about what could make someone like you falter in such ways.

Optimus didn't want to stop, he tried to hide his disappointment but you just knew he was.

He stopped somewhere in the middle of the woods. There was enough space for him to mass-shift back into his regular size. You saw him stretch and move around, it must feel nice to rest after a whole day of driving.

He watched you as you meticulously built up a small bonfire for you. Pulling a 'camping bed roll' and laying it on the grass. You could feel his optics on you. He doesn't even try to hide it. Staring was rude on Earth but you doubted the same thing applied on Cybertron.

"If you want to say something, say it already."

You finished smoking a cigarette and threw the rest of the butt into the bonfire. Sitting on your camping bed, you had also bought a few crackers, chocolate and marshmallows to make s'mores.

"I do not wish for my words to cause you discomfort."

Prime sits a few meters away from you. His back rested against a large trunk tree.

"It causes me discomfort that you keep looking at me," you also didn't want to talk about what happened but you knew Optimus would always think about it every time he saw you. The thought annoyed you, you didn't want him to see you as weak. "You may be a bot but I can tell by your ... Optics that you want to ask something."

Your eyes lay on him. There is a stern expression. Of concern? Curiosity? Pity? All of them three? You couldn't tell and it bothered you.

"Let me guess, it's about me throwing up the burrito right?" you inwardly laugh. Now that you look back, it was so stupid.

"You must be thinking, what kind of person vomits because of a gas station burrito?"

"But it's more common than you think!" you already had a lie planned out. You weren't stupid enough to tell the truth. You didn't trust him. "It just tasted really bad and I don't eat meat. Made me lose my appetite."

To have PTSD because of a steak burrito was not on your to-do list for today. It was ridiculous and stupid. You can usually stand it when you see raw meat but having a taste of it is completely different. You feel pathetic for letting Optimus see you that way.

"I thought most humans enjoyed meat and other types of protein," he wasn't going to let go of the subject too easily. "Why are you different from them?"

"... Personal reasons?"

You didn't think he would care enough to ask any further.

"Personal ... reasons?" he asks, there is confusion in his tone.

"Yes."

"I don't think I understand."

"Well, it's kinda like," you look around and from your marshmallow bag, you take out two marshmallows. "Let's say you are dating someone and then you break up with them."

You move the marshmallows, pretending that they are people. Giving them life by creating a story of them. You put them together and then pull them apart, make them walk and fall.

"Then, I ask why you broke up the relationship and you say personal reasons"

You look up at the metal titan in front of you, he seems more amused by the marshmallows than what you are saying.

"That's like a cue for me to not ask any further questions because you are not ready or you don't want to talk about it," you throw one marshmallow into your mouth, enjoying the softness of it, "It's like a human social cue."

"What is dating?"

Questions and more questions. You would be annoyed but Optimus seems so genuinely curious that you couldn't deny him.

"Well, like," you try to look for the right words but explaining the concept of dating to an alien life was more complicated than you thought. "It's kinda like the time you spend with someone before deciding if you want to spend the rest of your life with them."

Optimus takes a few seconds to process your words.

"I see. Humans and Cybertronians differ on mating rituals."

You didn't like the word 'mating' since it was a term mostly used on animals. But now that you think about it, a robotic alien from a species that had evolved for millions of years may see you as an animal. Either that or he couldn't find a better word.

Nonetheless, the words made you question something. You look up and down at Optimus. Everything seems mechanical to you. Nothing 'natural' about him. But even so, you knew he was a biological begin.

"I hope I am not crossing the line but how exactly do Cybertronians ... reproduce?"

"Reproduce?"

You try to think of another word. From what you can see, Cybertronians don't have any reproductive organs, at least none you can see from the outside. The word 'reproduce' may be foreign to Optimus for that reason.

"As in create a new life?"

He takes a few seconds as if he were thinking of a simple way to explain things to you. You didn't feel offended, on the contrary, you could sympathize. It was difficult to explain to another species how humans work.

"On Cybertron, Sparkmates can build a Sparkling if they so wish. It is a very arduous process but after the construction is done, Primus may bestow a small part of the AllSpark into the transformer and so they come online."

A lot of those terms you didn't understand. But what you could conclude is that the process may be religious, more of a ritual than a natural phenomenon.

"It sounds complicated."

"It is a very hazardous, challenging and exhausting activity," Optimus says as he looks at you and then at the night sky. "But there's also beauty in it."

You take the freedom to look at him. He didn't have eyes as you know but his optics are expressive. Maybe it's the thing you liked the most about him. His optics never lied, it was easy to read and there is some logging in them that almost made you ...

"What about humans?" he looks back at you, unaware of your strange thoughts. "How do humans come to life?"

You look back at your ingredients. Picking up a marshmallow and a stick, you decided these two would be the characters of your story.

"Well, when a man and a woman really ... really love each other," you feel like you are explaining this to a kid but you try to make it as simple as possible.

"They become intimate," you put the stick inside the marshmallow. You take it out and put it in again, in a back-and-forth movement. After a few seconds, you look at Optimus who seems confused. You stop. Maybe you need to be more blunt with him, after all, he was a million-years-old alien robot. Embarrassment may not even be a concept to him.

"And nine months later a baby ... umm a very small human comes out of the woman's belly."

Optimus left the comfort of his seat to move closer to you. His faceplate was so close that you hear his vents and engines move. His optics showed such amusement that you would have allowed him to explore more of you just to satisfy his curiosity.

"Humans have the ability to create life?" Optimus looks at you with awe, his voice softer than usual. "You can give life to a sentient being, with emotions, dreams and hopes? Whenever you wish?"

"Well, I would need a partner first but yes."

After finally taking a deep look at you, he steps back and lays his back on the grass. Laying flat on the ground and having a front view of the night sky with its stars and moon.

"What a great power. Your gods must have certainly loved you to have given you such virtue."

Being able to reproduce another living being was a normal concept for humans. You never consider how difficult must it be for other alien species to conceive life. Especially for those that live millions of years. Humans have a short lifespan compared to that of a Cybertronian. There is no need for them to constantly be having children ... Or Sparklings as they say. Evolution had played them dirty, especially now. That's if they ever plan to repopulate their home planet.

"I wonder ... Since your kind has the ability to create life," Optimus speaks out loud although he seems to be talking to himself more than to you.

"If a Cybertronian and a human were to be intimate as you put it, would a new type of life be born?"

"I think it's more complicated than that-"

"How do your species become intimate?"

The marshmallow and stick explanation didn't work. You open your mouth just to close it again. It's not like it bothered you talking about sex but it wasn't like you were about to open up Pornhub and show Optimus a video. You just find it difficult to explain. It's not like you could say 'penis goes inside vagina' because Optimus would ask 'What is a penis? What is a vagina?'

Maybe it will be easier to explain it in his terms or in a way he can relate. You decide to ignore his question first in hopes that you can answer it later after he responds to you.

"How do Cybertronians become 'Sparkmates'?"

"Sparkmates are extremely rare. In my years I've only met five. There should be more but the war has lasted many eons and there are few of us now," the more Optimus talks, the more you realize that he isn't the quiet type at all. The right questions always make him talk.

"From what I've heard and read, Sparkmates could recognize one another and immediately Sparkbond as a sign of affection."

"Sparkbond?"

"A sacred ritual only reserved for Sparkmates. It is taboo for Cybertronians who weren't Sparkmates to Sparkbond," he continues to talk. You wonder if he is talking because he enjoys it or because he doesn't want to be rude and tell you to shut up.

"But myths say that it is ... an indescribable experience. Even if I wanted to share this information with you, I am unable to ."

"Interesting," you are relieved to know that you weren't the only one having trouble explaining relationships.

"Humans are not like that. We can become intimate whenever we want. Even if we don't love or have feelings for the person we are intimate with."

"Cybertronians also enjoy other means of intimacy," he says as you finally rest on your camp bed, laying flat, looking at the same night sky as Optimus and a belly full of smores. "Most enjoy it with a recreational means."

This sparks your curiosity.

"So ... What other ways can Cybertronians be intimate?

You don't look at him but wait for an answer that never comes.

"I am not certain if that's a proper subject to speak with a lady."

"Oh, come on!" you decide to share some human information, maybe that would encourage Optimus to speak more. "Humans really ... really enjoy intimacy. It gives us pleasure. We actually need to feel a lot of pleasure in order to conceive life. Is it the same for you guys?"

"We do possess the software and right circuits that allow us to process touch and pleasure."

By the way he doesn't dare to look at you, you can tell he is flustered. You are happy to know that Cybertronians can feel embarrassed. Maybe you two aren't so different after all.

"All Cybertronians have different tension points and if caressed properly then ..."

Optimus stops speaking for a few seconds. You don't know if its the archivist in him, with so much knowledge that it's begging to be shared. Or if it is the reporter in you that wants to know more than you somehow find a way to get the answers you need.

"Then?"

The leader of the Autobots stays silent, debating whether or not to proceed.

"I wish to not speak of this further."

"Please, Prime, continue! You were just getting to the good part!"

"Please respect my wishes."

"Fine, fine," you say, quickly thinking of a better question. "But tell me, have you ever been engaged in this type of recreational intimacy?

You pay attention to his faceplate and although he has no clear expression, you notice his cheeks become slightly blue.

"OH, YOU HAVE!" you didn't need an answer anymore, you knew. "Tell me, how was it?! Was she beautiful?"

"I wish to recharge now."

He doesn't deny it and this further proves your conclusion.

"Tell me, please! I am so curious now about alien sex."

"Sex?" his voice is genuinely curious. "What is that?"

"You know what, I suddenly became sleepy too," you put a small blanket over your body, no longer wanting to explain the whole act of human reproduction anymore.

"Let's call it a night shall we?"

"But I wish for you to tell me more about this sex you speak of."

You close your eyes, ignoring his request.

"Goodnight, Prime."

Big Bend National Park in Texas probably has one of the best views of the Milky Way in the USA.

Ever since arriving on Earth, Optimus hasn't had the time to do any exploring as he would like. Free time is never really on his schedule but he finds himself enjoying this time with you.

You had expressed to him the desire to stay a couple more days. Deep down, he also wished he could relax and drive into the distance. He almost wanted to say yes but you had quickly interrupted him, saying that you had work and couldn't afford to lose any more days.

The two of you had to walk on top of a mountain. Mostly, he walked a couple of steps up while carrying you on his right servo.

Optimus looked around the area and then at the sky. He looked up while you looked down. He knows he should be paying more attention, especially when you insist on being the one to scratch the ground with a shovel. He had offered to do it but according to you, he was too brusque and might break the delicate artifact.

He wasn't so sure of that. But he assumed that you felt more inclined to offer your help because you didn't want to feel useless and he wasn't one to want to diminish your efforts.

"There is an ancient story about how the Milky Way formed."

Optimus was so concentrated on looking at the stars that he didn't notice that you had started shoveling.

"A very long time ago, a heavenly god had a beautiful daughter, a princess. She fell in love with a farmer. The farmer also loved the princess."

You continued to talk while shoveling, your voice was agitated and Optimus felt the need to do the job himself. But the last thing he wants is to make you feel unneeded.

"But the heavenly god did not approve of it so he cut off the sky in half. The farmer stayed on one side and the princess stayed on the other. They could never see each other again."

Still, your voice sounds excited. Is excavating that much fun to you? Or was it the story you were telling? Either way, he couldn't tell. But he enjoyed watching you do both.

"The princess would do nothing but cry. Seeing her sorrow, the heavenly god came to a conclusion."

Then, you had come to a stop. He seems some awkwardness in your face. Confusion and uneasiness. Something that is not very familiar to you. But you were pretending not to be.

"I am sorry, I am talking too much. This must be boring-"

He can't believe that he has been paying more attention to you than the story you were sharing with him. A sense of guilt and shame felt heavy on his spark. Was it the stars? Your strange body that he was so unknown to? Otherwise, Optimus can't understand why he would be so fascinated with the scene unfolding in front of him.

"No," he says, walking closer to you. He kneels to listen more closely. "Please, continue."

Seeing his interest, you continued with the last part of the story.

"He will allow his daughter to meet with the farmer once a year. On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, a flock of magpies forms a bridge, allowing the lovers to reunite for a single day."

He waits for you to continue and then realizes that you have finished your story. With an ending he did not like.

"That god is cruel. Is there anything we can do to help?"

"It's not a real story," you stop shoveling for a second to look at him. Although the night is cold by human standards, you still manage to sweat. A condition that is extremely foreign to him but he finds it fascinating. The fact that you are able to produce a water-like substance out of your skin is astonishing.

"It's fiction. It gives us an explanation of how the Milky Way was created and it's about the message."

"It's a tragic tale with a tragic ending," he says abruptly, showing his clear distaste for the conclusion. "I do not understand the kind of morale this story is trying to convey."

You stand in front of him. His optics allowed him to study you. Your chest moves up and down. You blink constantly. Your hair moves with the wind and your face wrinkles when you talk. There's not a single part of your body that it's not expressive.

Little by little, Optimus understood why the human poets and artists were so enchanted by the beauty of the human body.

"I think it means that to love is to suffer and suffering can be beautiful."

By Primus, he could have sworn he felt a glitch in his spark. A feeling that lasted less than a millisecond but one he will crave for all of eternity.

"It's a part of life. You can't feel happy unless you experience sadness first," you go back to shoveling, the ground around you has become deeper. Optimus wonders how much longer you will last until you give up and finally ask him for help. He needs to help you.

"And besides the star-crossed lovers can still meet."

"Soon?"

You stop again to look at the watch in your hand. Then you go back to work.

"Right now actually."

Instinctively, Optimus looks up at the dark sky to see falling stars and comets. The milkway splits the black mantle of the night.

"I do not see any birds."

He hears a sound. Like a soft and strange melody, delicate but sweet. It's the first time he hears you laugh.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"Don't mind me. I am just indulging," you say, still giggling a little bit. "You know, the more I get to know you, the more I see why you would be popular with the ladies."

"I- Umm-"

He wants to say something, to say more of him. To share things that will make him look more ... capacitated.

"Prime! I think I found it! The relic!"

You use your hands to get rid of the dust of the white pot. Taking a step aside, Optimus is glad to finally help you.Using two of his digits, he pulls the white pot from the ground, easily. It's not big but rather heavy for you. He is surprised that something made for Cybertronians could be this small.

"Mission accomplished," he says. "Let's get back to base."

The last thing you expected to see when you came back to base was to see three kids.

Well, two teenagers and one kid to be specific.

The Autobots had embarrassed looks on their face. Optimus was as unreadable as always. That made the situation even more uncomfortable.

"I departed for three days and returned to find ... small humans," Optimus observes the bots and the three other humans who look a bit scared. "Should I be concerned?"

Arcee steps in, knowing that she is the best to explain the situation.

"We were on a mission to retrieve Energon when we accidentally stumble upon the humans and they got tangled in our affairs with the Decepticons," Arcee says. "Agent Fowler was called and he gave us the order to guard these humans in the meantime."

Optimus stays silent.

"And the energon?"

"We now have enough stored for a couple of months."

He vents heavily and nods slightly.

"Very well then. I approve of Agent Fowler's decision."

Arcee then takes a step back and looks at the kids. She raises a servo, fully open. Not pointing but rather softly signaling.

"Jack, Raf, Miko," Arcee points to each of them for Optimus to learn their names, so do you. "Meet Optimus Prime, Leader of the Autobots."

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Hey."

Optimus kneels in front of the kids, taking a closer look at them. Memorizing their faces and names. Their appearances gave him a little hint of what their personalities would be like. He liked that, he wouldn't struggle too much to read them as compared to you.

"We have as well completed our mission smoothly," Optimus stands up and moves aside, leaving you exposed to the rest as you were kinda hiding behind his pedes. Next to you the relic that was safely stored inside the white pot.

"Old friend," now Optimus re-directs his attention to Ratchet. "Have you made any advances in discovering information about the relics?"

"No, tragically," Ratchet steps aside from his workstation to show the group the data he has collected so far about the first collected relic. "Good news is that Raf helped me fix the ground bridge so now we can collect the other relics across the globe."

"Very well then, the more pieces we have of this puzzle, the more we are closer to the truth-"

"Wait, is that (y/n) from Jasper TV News?"

Raf interrupts Optimus although there wasn't any malice from it. More curious than anything and excited.

You wave, still not liking the attention but you are not going to be mean about it.

"My mom is a fan of yours! She loves watching the news," Raf says as he gets closer to you. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

"I have my own shenanigans," you didn't want to tell the entire story, not wanting to divulge your bad behavior. "Long story short, I was in the wrong place, wrong time. Prime came to save me."

"So is Optimus like your robot guardian?"

"Guardian? Please, it's me the one who takes care of him."

You turn to look up at him, trying to tease him and get his approval.

"She does."

You weren't expecting him to answer but you are happy he played along.

"But I won't be here for a couple of days so maybe you three can take of him for me."

This time you look at the other two teens behind Raf who smile to greet you.

"Where will you be going?"

"Work," you say, your voice showing your clear disappointment. "Someone has to report the news and I haven't been attending to it lately."

You turn to face the Autobots.

"Now if it's not too much to ask ... can I get a ride back home?"

"I can take you home if so you wish," Optimus offers but you didn't want to bother him any longer.

"You've driven so much already, I think it's better if you rest."

Then, you hear beeping sounds. It was Bumblebee who had transformed into his vehicle form, opening the door for you to get in. You walk towards him, a bit excited to ride a nice-looking car.

"If you guys really need me, you can text me," you stand in front of the door, ready to hop in. "But besides that, I'll be drowning in work so please don't look for me."

There was some truth to that but you actually wanted some private time so you could write in your journal everything you learned on this trip. From the relic to Cybertronian reproduction. Everything was worth reporting.

"Goodbye, everyone!"

You raised your right hand, giving everyone a clear view of your palm. Waving your hand side to side. Bulkhead and the kids wave back to you while Arcee gives you an acknowledging look. Ratchet doesn't even bother, too indulged in his work and Optimus doesn't say a word.

You hop into Bumblebee as he closes the door.

Everyone watches as you and Bee head into the tunnel to leave the base.

Bulkhead and Arcee walked around the base and showed it to the kids. While Ratchet kept on with his work and Optimus just stared into the distance.

Although Ratchet was too focused on the screen in front of him, he could sense Optimus' presence still in the same room.

It was quiet and to Ratchet this was a bit strange. He looks at the back and finds Optimus still staring into the tunnel. His optics are heavy on him, that look on his friend's faceplate is not unknown to him but it's been eons ago since he saw it.

Optimus walks past the white pot uncarefully, making it spin, almost fall and break. He didn't seem to notice but Ratchet did.

"Did you see that?"

Ratchet asks pointing at the pot that thankfully did not shatter.

"Yes," Optimus says. "Her hands were damaged. Probably due to the excavation she did with the shovel. I should've had helped."

Optimus didn't see it before but your palms were swollen, pink and with a flew blisters and scratches. For a human with a soft skin like yours it must be painful to have.

"No, Optimus," Ratchet is now concerned. "The relic. Be careful."

Optimus looks at his side where the clay pot is extremely close to his pede. He took a few steps back, showing his clear confusion.

"My apologies, I'll be more careful."

Ratchet continues to look at the Autobot leader, wondering how or why he seems distracted. It's unaccustomed for a Prime to act in such ways but Ratchet couldn't completely be mad at him. He sometimes tends to forget that Optimus used to be more than a Prime and it was moments like this when he could see who Orion Pax used to be.

Every day is harder for you to get out of bed but you remind yourself that you need to go work. Tragically, you are not rich nor have anything to your name just a car you were able to pay off. A reporter's salary isn't great but it's not bad either. Maybe if you worked hard enough you will be able to afford to buy a house. A very small one.

You got out of the house, make-up and outfit ready. You weren't one to wear make-up in the office but today you were going to be live on television, reporting an increase in illegal car racing. Not something you were particularly interested in but you would take that any day over-reporting insignificant lifestyle.

You get into your car, put the tote bag in the co-pilot seat and close the door. You take your bag again, making sure everything is in there. Laptop, make-up bag, cigarettes, lighter, wallet.

Your phone is missing.

You sigh heavily and take off the seat belt, trying to open the door only to realize you can't.

"Don't worry darling, whatever you need, you won't need it where we are heading."

And that's when you realize that this isn't your car.

Once again, you will be missing work.

A/N: Slowburn who? I don't think Reader and Optimus have feelings for each other yet but rather is a fascination for each other species. I think both Reader and Optimus are curious by nature and I think that's why they get along well so far.

If I am completely honest, I am not sure how this story will continue. I just know how I want to end it but it's a matter to get there. Of course, I want to implement some ideas I've had for a while into the story but I want to make it as smoothly as possible without things feeling rushed or making it seem like things happened out of nowhere.

Although I feel like things have strangely improved between Reader and Optimus and it's just the third chapter. So I don't know, I'll see how this story progresses. I've written really long slowburn fanfics before but for some reason I only see this story being around 50k-60k words in total. Which for me, that's a rather short fic.

I definitely want to explore more of Optimus character and mostly importantly, I want him to be able to feel. He may never act upon his feelings but he still feels. Some emotions maybe unknown to him so he may lash or act in certain ways.

I still don't know if I want reader to fall in love first just for Optimus to reject her and through the story we see her moving on and improving as a person (cause reader still has a skewed way look at the world and she is lying to the autobots) and as she moves on and dates other people, Optimus realizes he loves her and he gets angry and annoyed because he starts to have ill feelings like jealousy, rage, confusion, uneasiness and he feels all of that because of you. And of course one day he can't control it anymore and he angrily confesses your love for you under the rain? ( ok I might be making this part up haha)

But anyways, I think y'all get my point.

In the next chapter, I would also like to talk more about the reader and her past. I think she's rather interesting. Not bad but not good either. Her views about life changed and from being someone full of hope she became kinda pessimistic ... maybe Optimus can help her see the good side of life again.

Thank you again to anyone who took the time to read this chapter. I apologize for any mistakes but I don't really proofread since I don't have time. I wrote this while at work actually, haha.

Thank you and see you on the next chapter!

Previous Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/767425691778203648/the-darkest-hour?source=share

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#optimus prime #optimus x oc #optimus prime x reader #transformers #optimus x reader #transformers fanart #transformers fanfiction #transformers optimus #transformers oc #transformer x human #transformer x reader #orion pax x reader #orion pax #tfp x reader #tfp optimus prime #tfp fanfic #tfp #transformers prime

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captain-joongz · 10 months ago

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Abraxas; Act 1, ch. 1

Pairing: mafia boss!Min Yoongi x police officer!reader

Genre: angst, humour and some fluff, investigative, dark themes, sloooooowburn, enemies to lovers, eventual smut

Chapter summary: As a new addition to the organized crime unit after a huge corruption scandal burnt through it, it definitely wasn't easy to seamlessly fill in and join the team. Tasked with menial shit and kept away from the actual investigation, my patience ran out after meeting the one man the unit was after, Min Yoongi, thus leading me to getting myself involved with one of the most dangerous men in the whole of Korea.

Everything is fair in love and war, isn't it? And this was war.

I would take him down, no matter what.

Word count: cca 26k

Warnings: reader is somewhat innocent and naive (in a sense that she's very idealistic), there will be brief reader x OC, but worry not, Yoongi is endgame, nothing much here, workplace sexism, some slight discussion of illegal stuff, description of the boys as criminals, reader is just a tiny bit obssesed with taking Yoongi down, some slight stalking (illegal tailing and stake out)

Series masterlist | Next Part

A/N: welcome to the first chapter of my new series! i have a ridiculously soft spot for mafia yoongi fics, so this is a child of me watching daechwita and haegeum too many times drooling over min yoongi himself, i hope that you stay with me throughout the entire ride and enjoy yourself as much as i did when writing this <3 i will attempt to update this every month, the semester is starting soon again but i'll be having less classes so i should be able to do it, take this love letter to long-haired yoongi <3

"That which is spoken by God-the-Sun is life; that which is spoken by the Devil is death; Abraxas speaketh that hallowed and accursed word, which is life and death at the same time. Abraxas begetteth truth and lying, good and evil, light and darkness in the same word and in the same act. Wherefore is Abraxas terrible."

- 3rd sermon, Seven Sermons to the Dead, Carl Jung

Winter, first year in the force

“Minjoon, for fuck’s sake! Move it!” the booming voice of Senior Inspector Park rang out through the station as the poor man in question scrambled to put on his jacket, grab his badge and gun and ran after him. When he was passing by my table, he sent me a little sympathetic smile and then hurried to catch up to our superior before he left to make the arrest without him.

I sighed heavily and then sulkily returned to filing away some old hand-written cases. It’s been 3 months since I’d been assigned to the Organised crime unit, fresh out of academy and full of hope to change the world for the better. The second I got my badge I sent in my application to SMPA, hoping to make it to violent crimes. Instead, I was pushed to this division. The official reason was because they were lacking manpower, which wasn’t exactly wrong, after what happened. But I knew what they were really trying to do – clean up after a huge scandal that broke through this unit just a few months before my joining, when several young policemen were caught tampering with evidence and reselling confiscated drugs. After a few tough rounds of investigation, three men were fired from this unit and several others from affiliated places.

That meant that when I walked through the door, all rosy cheeked and wonder eyed, excited to start my career, the reception was more than icy. Senior Inspector Park, who was in charge, barely ever spoke to me except for barking out orders, and I was almost never allowed to do any actual work, always confined to the office and left with tasks that no one else wanted to do. My colleagues were ranging from cold and reserved to actual full-blown assholes, happy to take advantage of young blood knowing I couldn’t say anything in return to my seniors. Except for Minjoon, who actually made effort to be cordial, everyone in this hellhole was insufferable. Thus, I pissed away my days filling out forms, cleaning out cabinets, cataloguing files and putting old files into the system.

I looked wistfully out of the window and just caught the sight of our team’s van leaving the parking lot of the station. It was an arrest pertaining to our current leading objective – an informant was finally able to gather enough evidence for us to be able to interview one of the higher standing members of a gang this unit was currently focusing on. They knew we most probably wouldn’t be able to keep him long, after all it wasn’t that substantial at all and his boss always found a way out of any arrests, but it was better than nothing – we’d annoy him at the very least. That’s what Park always said anyways – never let them forget you’re hot on their trail, even if it meant being a little petty.

I walked over to my computer and sat down. All I could do was wait.

It was a surprisingly short amount of time until Senior Inspector Park came barrelling through the door with three men hot on his tail dragging a tall, handcuffed man with them. Unlike what you’d expect from an arrested man, he had a serene expression on his handsome face to a point he almost looked smug, lazily walking and letting himself get pushed around by eager officers, not a hair out of place and his expensive suit looking absolutely pristine.

They briskly walked through the office space to the back hallway where the interrogation rooms were situated, not sparing a single glance to anyone still sitting by their computers. By the disinterested short glances of the present colleagues, it was obvious that this wasn’t that unusual here. I myself was a witness of similar arrests of members from this gang, but this was my first time seeing someone this high up. This wasn’t just anyone. It was Kim Namjoon.

With careful peeking around to see if anyone was looking my way, I made sure the coast was clear, and then curiously moved after them into the hallway. I walked to the very back and lingered for a moment by the door, gathering courage, before grasping the handle and confidently walking into the listening room. Park was sitting there with a senior detective by his side, watching as Minjoon and his partner prepared the computer to start their interrogation while Mr. Kim sat there looking bored. Park looked to the door and did a double take when he noticed it was me. A disapproving look etched itself onto his face and he was just about to say something when I beat him to it.

“Please, sir! I’d never been able to watch my colleagues during interrogations, I want to learn,” I pleaded with him, “I’ll be totally quiet, you won’t even know I’m here!” I clasped my hands together in a praying motion and gave him my best puppy eyes. He looked at me and it almost seemed as if he was considering my words, but then his face closed off again. My heart was beating against my chest as I waited for him to shut me down.

“Don’t you have anything to do?” he asked, and displeasure oozed out of him in suffocating waves. I shook my head. “I was just putting the files I’d been working on away when you returned.” He was just about to speak again when Minjoon in the other room suddenly cleared his throat and began talking to the eerily calm man, asking him basic questions about his personal information and occupation. That sufficiently claimed Park’s attention and he just waved at me and said “whatever, just be quiet”. I bowed to him even though his back was already turned to me but didn’t even dare to mutter a thank you in fear he’d throw me out for speaking.

When I was first assigned to this department, I was warned that this particular unit unfortunately was a sausage party – no female officers in sight. While my colleague’s distaste of me never really felt overtly sexist, I knew some of them doubted my capabilities as a female detective, and Park was definitely one of them. He didn’t shy away from speaking out about how he’d always worked only with men and male officers and how a woman in a unit full of men would only bring trouble and unnecessary drama. He never got over the fact that they pushed me on him and didn’t listen to his bullshit.

While none of them ever asked me to make them coffee or bring them lunch, I knew that they kept me occupied with work that they viewed as “softer” and “more suited for a woman”. It infuriated me to no end, but I just needed an opportunity to showcase my skills. I didn’t need their approval; I just wanted to fully do my job and not be stuck at a desk all day.

I knew one day I’d get that. No matter what it took, I would make it happen.

I was brought out of my reverie by a shockingly deep voice that struck me to my core as I was wholly unprepared for it. Kim Namjoon, who was completely silent until now and only nodded along or hummed, had finally started talking. I didn’t catch the question and I barely made out what Mr. Kim said in answer, but my attention zeroed in on him in a second and refused to let go. I knew who he was very well, after all, his picture along with several others was hanging on our wall in the meeting room, all connected to each other with strings, intel and many, many cases we were trying to push against them. I’d see him every morning when I walked in, every time I went to the toilet or for lunch and every evening when I was leaving.

But in his picture, he looked very different – hostile and angry, with a face full of fresh bruises from a recent fight, miles away from the suave self-assured man currently occupying the room in front of us. He had a domineering aura to him and even if he was supposed to be here as a suspect, he gave off the vibe like he wanted to be here more than anywhere else. In a sick twisted way, he fascinated me to no end. I’d seen mobsters before, petty thieves and drug dealers, tatted up, with foul mouths and hands dirtied by crime, but this man was a whole different class with his sharp eyes and sneering mouth, dangerous in a way that made the hair on my arms stand up. He knew how to mask his violence and that made him even more terrifying.

“I see that you have a law degree,” said Minjoon cooly and I saw Mr. Kim subtly roll his eyes, “Is the work you do for him pertaining to that?”

“We talk about this every time we see each other,” he answered coldly, “You know I have a degree. You also know that I currently work in accounting. You have my file memorised to a point that you probably know my measurements better than I do. Let’s not waste time with pointless bullshit.”

“Accounting is a very broad concept,” Minjoon didn’t let himself be intimidated and matched his indifferent attitude, “I want to know what exactly your line of work is.” Mr. Kim looked at him and put on the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.

“I’m sorry, officer, what is my arrest pertaining to exactly? Why are these questions relevant to whatever you brought me here for?” he said in a professional voice, his eyes glinting in challenge.

I stayed there and watched their back and forth for whole two hours. The whole time Minjoon drove hard questions about the exact nature of Mr. Kim’s work while the said man played hot and cold with him, teasing him with little remarks and then returning to cold professionalism or prolonged periods of confident silence. I learnt that the intel they’d been delivered this morning was a vague allusion to certain tactics of tax evasion that were closely related to his boss’s smuggling activities. But all these were easily deconstructed by Mr. Kim in a matter of seconds.

It seemed that everyone involved (even Mr. Kim himself) already knew that though and judging by Park’s intense focus on Mr. Kim’s mannerisms and speech, this was about something completely different. As I found myself splitting my attention between the lawyer’s fascinating dance and my own superior’s complete interest, I realised that he was studying him. He was learning him. And for the first time, since this was the first time I saw him in action, I felt real respect towards the older man and his dedication to his work. This wasn’t even about being annoying, it was a purely academic endeavour. I found myself lightly laughing at the revelation.

Behind the glass Mr. Kim was running the two officers in circles, never surrendering any new information and only regurgitating bits and pieces we already knew in different context, and I could see how exhausted Minjoon was becoming.

I was stepping around by the door, alleviating a certain leg to ease the pain and discomfort of standing for such a long time, also nearing my limit, when Park leaned closer to the mic, pressed the button and said: “take a 10, let’s talk”. Hearing that, Minjoon and his partner stood up and with unfriendly smiles thanked the clever lawyer for his cooperation. They left the room and in a minute they were pushing into the listening room.

When Minjoon stepped in and saw me, he looked surprised for a split second and then gave me a kind smile, which I returned, while his partner stared rather impolitely. Park didn’t pay attention to any of that, eyes never leaving the sole man in the interrogation room, who was now leaning back on the chair and picking his nails in a bored manner.

“As expected, as a lawyer he’s skilled at this,” Park muttered, “What a talented prick, if we didn’t know it already, I bet we wouldn’t be able to get even his name out of him.” The officer sitting next to him finally spoke for the first time.

“Still,” he argued, “this is the first time we’ve managed to actually get him to the station. It means something. Min’s gonna be pissed.” At the mention of the name, Park smiled animatedly and nodded quite happily. I tried to blend into the wall while I watched the men converse and try to come up with a new strategy.

“It’s clear questioning him leads nowhere,” Minjoon added to the convo, “He doesn’t even seem bothered by it. Just look at him. He has all the patience and time in the world.” He motioned to the glass and the man sitting calmly behind it.

“I’m not surprised, he’s had years of experience dodging the police like this. Fucker’s barely thirty and yet has already spent more than a decade covering up his boss’s mess. That’s more than I’ve spent in academy and the force combined.” We all turned to look at Minjoon’s partner, officer Hwang, who was dispiritedly leaning on the doorframe. He was right, but Park didn’t seem to be put off by that.

“That’s how it works here in this unit,” he said firmly, “You sometimes spend years just to get a chance at arresting someone. We’ve been working on this for almost a year and we’re already starting to get somewhere, but this is only the beginning. We need to learn how they work and that takes time.” No matter what my personal opinion was on him, I could see that Park was truly an experienced detective when it came to organised crime. I made a mental note to myself to pay attention to what he says carefully and learn.

They talked for a little while longer when suddenly a commotion was heard back in the office space of the station. We all looked at each other, some more surprised than others. Park got up and pushed his way out into the hallway. As he was passing me, I heard him quietly mutter “here we go” as if this was the main point of the evening. And I quickly realised why.

When I also pushed my way into the hallway and peeked over Minjoon’s shoulder, I was able to see a man confidently making his way through the station flagged by two others. Before I had a chance to gasp at the sudden appearance, he’d already stormed all the way to us.

Just like with Kim Namjoon, seeing his face on a picture on our wall every day could never prepare me for the experience that meeting Min Yoongi was. I was beginning to curse the people who chose the pictures, because they were clearly dangerously understating these men’s aura. With longer black wavy hair, sleek black jacket, black tee and ripped jeans, standing there looking both incredibly angry and incredibly bored, was one of the most dangerous men in this city and the man Kim Namjoon called master. As did half of the city’s criminals. To an ordinary person he was just a businessman, an owner of a few clubs and, recently added, a hotel in the posher area of Seoul, but to us he was a leader of a gang that rose in power and ranks so rapidly it was like witnessing a wildfire. The blink-and-half-the-forest-is-gone kind.

I’d never met him before, and judging by officer’s Hwang flabbergasted expression, I wasn’t the only one, but the man in question barely paid any of us attention. He walked up to Park as if they were old friends, cruel annoyed smile on his face.

“Here I am!” he proclaimed in a faux sweet voice and threw his hands into the air, “That what you wanted? You come into my house and steal my things when I’m not looking now?” Park returned his smile in a similar manner. He was extremely pleased at having pissed off the man to this extent.

“Mr. Kim was lawfully retained due to suspicions of illegal activity,” he answered the man, “He was arrested in one of your clubs.” Min Yoongi’s eyes minutely flitted over to me and there was a tiny spark of surprise and then interest.

“Huh, you’ve got fresh blood here?” he asked all jokes and games, “How come I’ve never met her, isn’t that like a rite of passage here? Coming to see Uncle Yoongi?” He waved at me and laughed like he was encountering a cute animal in the wild. I felt the anger coursing through me, but I knew this wasn’t the situation to lose my cool, so I just scoffed and turned away from him. He fake pouted and then put his attention back on my senior, suddenly turning all serious again. Watching his moods swing was like trying to keep up with a bouncy ball in an empty room.

“Whatever, just release my man,” he said firmly, “You know that anything you came up with to get him here is bogus, so just let him go and I’ll let this slide.”

“How gracious of you,” Park gritted through his teeth. Tensions were beginning to brew between them, and the more annoyed Min Yoongi was, the more teeth showed in his wolfish grin. Just when I thought the whole building was just going to combust, Minjoon stepped in.

“We are legally allowed to keep him here for eight hours at the minimum,” he said calmly, “It’s only been two and a half.” The man’s whole attention shifted to my colleague and, standing behind him, I saw how all-consuming it was to be at the centre of Min Yoongi’s focus. His intense stare and dangerous smile only deepened having noticed just how much he was throwing me off balance. I knew he was getting off on intimidating people and I tried to not give him the satisfaction, but suddenly coming face to face with him, I wasn’t prepared to withstand it, especially since he was so intimately familiar with our entire force that a new face stuck out to him like a sore thumb.

“I know that,” he retorted sharply, “But he wasn’t brought here to be questioned. He was brought here because he-“ Yoongi pointed in Park’s direction “-wanted to know how long before I showed up to bail him out. So, here I am. Release him.” Minjoon looked at our superior with questioning eyes, but he only nodded.

“Let Mr. Kim go, we got everything we needed from him,” he smiled pleasantly in Min Yoongi’s direction, “Have a nice day Mr. Min.” With that he moved back into the office. Mr. Min’s attention once again shifted to me and Minjoon, watching with rapt interest as he moved towards the interrogation room, and I followed him like a loyal shadow. The moment the door opened, Mr. Kim was already hallway outside, coming to his boss and giving him a half hug. Neither of them said anything, they just shared an amused smile at our expense and then turned around to leave with cheeky smiles. As Min Yoongi was rounding the corner, he winked my way. Absolutely flabbergasted by his behaviour, I couldn’t get the encounter out of my head for the entire rest of the day.

While much of Min Yoongi’s childhood was a mystery to us, we had a pretty good idea of what his life was like since around he was 16. So, a good decade of criminal life. As a young teen, he started an apprenticeship as an underling of one of the former ruling gang’s top men, and basically was brought up by him into the man he was today. While the old royalty was torn apart in succession wars after the old master died and his four sons all decided they should be the sole heir, Min Yoongi started up with his own few loyal followers, all who today are his most trusted closest subordinates. With cruelty, tenacity and violence, he took the city by the storm and before they knew it, he was ruling most of it. Too caught up in trying to kill each other, neither of them reacted fast enough to stop young Yoongi’s rise to power. Today, with the original gang wiped out, his was undoubtedly the one at the top of the food chain.

He started with one club and now he owned several of the most prestigious clubs in the city, making enough money to buy him a hotel and finally catapult him into the sphere of honest business. In hindsight, it was pretty stupid of me to show up to one of them to “scope it out”.

Peeved by our last (and first) interaction and driven by the need to prove myself to my unit, I’d decided that the way to go was start right on his turf and dig around. I’d believed that with how much business he had to take care of, both legal and not, there’s no way I’d show up at the right club at the right time to actually meet him there. How foolish. They did always say that he stayed at the top by working endlessly, stupid of me to not actually take that into account.

I didn’t even know how I managed to actually get into the club, considering the long waiting list and lines outside, it was a miracle one Friday evening I found myself sitting inside Dynamite, one of his clubs, watching everything go on like a hawk.

I knew this was something that was rarely accomplished by the people in our unit. Maybe a few months ago they had the liberty to sneak onto his territory, but currently he knew very well about our interest in him, and everyone associated with our unit quickly got blacklisted from half the establishments around the area, owned by Yoongi or not.

I knew that anything pertaining to illegal activity would definitely be taking place in the VIP zone with private booths and waiters, so getting there was the actual challenge. Somewhat foolishly I decided to just try my luck and think of the plan as it went. Little did I know just how easily I’d manage to get invited in.

I was just sitting there minding my own business when I felt a presence next to me. At first, I thought nothing of it, thinking they’re probably just trying to catch the barman’s attention, but suddenly I felt them press into my personal space. I sighed, annoyed, turning around to send whatever sleazy flirt that was trying to get into my pants to hell, when my breath caught in my throat. Sitting next to me, leaning on the bar with a million-watt smile was none other than the owner himself. I cursed every god in existence and three generations of their ancestors and steeled myself for what was coming.

“Didn’t expect to see a police officer letting loose in one of my clubs,” he drawled out playfully, “They all know which ones to avoid. I suppose you’re either stupid or up to no good.” I rolled my eyes to him and turned back to look onto the dancefloor.

“My friend insisted we go here,” the lied slipped through my lips easily, but by Yoongi’s smirk I knew he didn’t believe me one bit. “Oh, and where does this friend happen to be right now? As far as I could see, you’ve been just sitting here glaring,” he laughed at me lightly, as if we were just two friends teasing each other.

“Do you have a habit of watching partygoers like a creep?” I bit back at him, annoyed at being sniffed out so quickly. What are even the chances of him being at this exact club the night I decided to snoop? Something not of God was on this man’s side to arrange a coincidence like that.

“No,” Yoongi answered with a teasing lilt, “But I do happen to remember faces very well. Two weeks ago, you’d slip right by me, but now I know you’re an officer.” I cursed under my breath, and he laughed again. Then he stood up and turned to me. Suddenly a hand was offered to me.

“Come on,” he said, this time a little more serious, “Let’s talk.” I ignored his hand but stood up to follow him. He snickered and started in the direction of the VIP zone. We were currently on the ground floor, which was the general area with a dance floor dominating the centre of the room. The VIP zone was situated on a little gallery overlooking the ground floor.

The flashing lights, bass boosted music and mass of moving sweaty bodies made it difficult to orientate myself in the space, but I kept my eyes on the back of Yoongi’s head as he leisurely made his way through the crowd like he had no worry in the world. He led me to stairs that were cordoned off by red velvet rope, with two very big and very angry men standing on each side. When they saw Yoongi coming near, they both put on professional smiles and bowed wordlessly. He didn’t react to them in any way, just waited till they let him through patiently. As I walked in behind him, they both stared me down as if I was about to jump on Yoongi and stab him right in front of them.

I knew this was probably my only and last chance to get a look around this place, since after being found out I’d definitely get blacklisted just like all the other police officers, so I hungrily scanned the VIP zone and tried to take in all the details. It was very dark there; some booths were out in the open while some had curtains and it was surprisingly packed with people. Waiters were busily buzzing around, serving drinks and appetizers, hum of conversations and laughter carried through the space comfortably. At first glance, you couldn’t see anything wrong or illegal going on, just young people having fun, but I knew better than to trust that.

I followed Yoongi through the area all the way to the back, where one corner was similarly cordoned off. The couches and tables were situated in a way that allowed a little more privacy and separated the space a little from the rest of the people. This must have been his personal lounge.

He made himself comfortable smack in the middle of one of the couches and I timidly sat on an armchair right across him, with a small table between us. Immediately waiters descended onto the space, bringing in plates of appetizers, most probably assuming all kinds of crazy shit since Yoongi brought a woman to his personal zone. The man in question was nonchalantly asking for some cocktail and acting as if this was a completely normal situation and I wasn’t the police. I declined his offer for alcohol and just uncomfortably sat there, watching him settle in.

He gestured to the food and said: “Do you mind if I dig in? I haven’t eaten the whole day.” I gave him a polite smile and told him to go ahead. Yoongi started filling his plate, sharp eyes watching my every move while offering me various food items with annoying courteousness, smirk in place on his lips cause he knew just how much he was pissing me off. It was absolutely crazy – here I was, small-talking with a man I was trying to get behind bars.

Then I had to sit there while he enjoyed himself with his appetizers. When the silence stretched enough to become awkward, I started losing my patience.

“Have you brought me here to watch you eat?” I barked out annoyed, crossing my arms in front of my chest and leaning back into the chair. He looked up from his plate with a little amused smirk. Then he finally put it down.

“Why exactly are you here, officer?” he got straight to the point, “What are you hoping to accomplish?” He mirrored me and leaned back into the couch, his form slouching comfortably with hands laying on his thighs.

“Isn’t that obvious?” I answered, sudden insecurity taking a hold of me. Why was I supposed to explain myself to this guy? He smiled and this time it wasn’t as ferocious.

“I fail to see how this helps in your divine plan to put me under.”

Truth is, I didn’t know either. I was angry and frustrated that nobody was taking me seriously, the encounter with him last week only serving to push me further over the edge. I didn’t know how this was supposed to help, I just knew I needed to do something. Anything. It was better than just endlessly sitting behind a computer typing away. I had to do something that would put me on the radar in my unit and if it involved humbling Min Yoongi a little bit, I was all in.

Truth was, no matter how much I didn’t want to admit it, I was shaken by him. Seeing in flesh this fabled monster, having him stare and smirk at me while he shamelessly strutted around a police station as if he was untouchable, it took everything in me to hold up under his scrutiny. But now, sitting across from him and returning him the favour, I felt some control slowly trickling back into my hands and it calmed me.

He was watching me contemplate with rapt attention and suddenly I was reminded of the prickly feeling of having his eyes trained solely on you. They were dark, so much darker than in the bright daylight in the middle of a police station, and all-consuming in a way I’d never encountered before. It felt as if he was reaching straight into the centre of my being and pulling, pulling something out of me. I shook my head subtly and looked away.

When I failed to answer him or defend myself, he sighed.

“Look, I’m saying this, because you seem like a really naïve genuine person,” he started, “Take this advice to heart – don’t bite off more than you can chew just to stick it to some old guy. This is a dangerous place for people like you, don’t get pulled under.” Now that made me angry. Somewhere deep down I realised that my stubbornness actually was putting me in danger and that I was stupidly jumping headfirst into things that could be my end, but I was so done with getting treated as a fragile little thing.

“Whatever do you mean by that?” I answered him prickly and sat more defensively. Yoongi looked at me and for a moment I could see a glint of something almost melancholic there, but then he was all wild grins and suave demeanour again.

“Let me speak frankly for a moment,” he said and winked conspiratorially, “You decided to single-handedly take down a whole gang, allegedly, that controls half the city, allegedly, because your superior is a sexist pig, that doesn’t seem like biting off more than you can chew to you?” Every time he said the word “allegedly” he smirked a little and I could see he was having fun playing around with me like this. I smirked right back at him and leaned forward until I had my elbows resting on my knees.

“Who said anything about single-handedly? That’s what teams are for,” I whispered teasingly, “Why do you even assume it has anything to do with Senior Inspector Park?” I tried to mask the genuine emotion, but he still must have realised that one was actually spot-on.

“I’ve known Park for quite some time,” he explained and leaned forward as well, “Heard about him a long time ago, been seeing him here and there for years and then been in personal contact with him for about a year now. He’s an excellent policeman, no doubt about it, but even I know he’s a shit person. He lives for his work, but in personal life he’s a jerk.”

“He’s a jerk at work too,” I couldn’t help myself and muttered. To that Yoongi laughed lightly, eyes gleaming at me. “Should I be asking how you even know about his behaviour outside of work?” I quipped in quickly.

“I’d be stupid if I didn’t run some basic checks on people that are hell-bent on making my life difficult,” he answered me with a dangerous glint in his eyes, but quickly relaxed again. I found myself tensing up and relaxing alongside with him. The realisation that talking with him was like constantly walking on ice and hoping that even though you hear cracks you won’t fall in, hit me square in the face and put me off balance again. He kept effortlessly flip-flopping between joking and being serious and I was starting to get whiplash from it. I decided to leave this subject behind.

“So, what is your advice exactly?” I returned to the previous topic, “To just let you go and leave you to your little crime syndicate? Live happily ever after knowing you’re out there?” He snickered at that.

“No, you can do whatever you want,” he said, “I’m just warning you to be careful. This, this space right here, it has its own rules. It’s very easy to end up badly.” It didn’t feel like a threat even though it may have been worded like one, imagine my shock when I recognised actual genuine emotion behind his words. Instead of shying away from it, I bored my eyes into him just as intensely as he did to me.

“Rules or no rules, no one is above the law, not even you, Mr. Min,” I told him prickly. He smiled at me sardonically and then sighed again, but this time it was more amused.

“Since you’re someone that spent most of their life studying the law, I’m surprised you still haven’t realised that it’s quite useless,” he laughed and I could see the switch in him, becoming meaner and smiling cruelly, “The only thing that law does is fuck over those who are already in a bad place and benefit those who are already in a good spot.” He laughed mirthlessly and continued. “No one is above the law? Oh, my dear, many people are above the law. All you need is money and power and not even God can touch you on this mortal plane.” I took full offense to his words, feeling the anger overpower my instinct trying to tell me this man could potentially be extremely dangerous.

“Spoken like a true criminal,” I spit out venomously, “That’s a load of bull.” Yoongi’s eyes flashed minutely and then he relaxed into the couch again with a lazy smirk full of sharp edge. His hand suddenly pointed somewhere behind me. “You see that guy? That one in the striped shirt?” he asked.

For a moment I debated whether I should turn my back to him or not, but my curiosity overpowered me. Steeling myself for potentially getting attacked from behind, I turned and searched in the crowd of people. There, a little to my left, was sitting a group of young men. Each of them had a girl or two by their side, they drank and laughed and looked exactly like the kind of company I’d never want to find myself in. One of them, sitting on the far edge of the couch facing me, was wearing a horrible unfashionable striped shirt. I turned back to Yoongi with a queasy stomach.

“Yeah, I think I see him,” I told him suddenly quietly, unsure of where the conversation was going. Yoongi leaned forward to me again as if he was about to tell me a great secret.

“He could walk over here, steal your gun, then walk outside and shoot someone straight between their eyes in front of a street full of people, and you wouldn’t be able to charge him with anything. You wanna know why? His father sits in the parliament. Before you knew it, he’d be skiing in the Alps while you faced losing your badge because you crossed a politician.” Yoongi smiled at me triumphantly and my stomach swooped again.

“This kid comes here four times a week, each night breaking at least five different laws at a time,” Yoongi continued meanly, “and the most trouble he’s ever gotten into with the law was a parking ticket his father took care of for him.” He waited for a moment to see whether I’d react, but when I stayed silent, he went on. “Go ahead and arrest him, officer. Go over there and pull out your badge and bring him into the station with you. If you test him now, you’ll probably find every drug that’s available on the street in his system. But I guarantee you, you won’t be able to keep him there longer than two hours before you’ll be steam-rolled by his family’s lawyers.” He threw his arms into the air in a pompous gesture.

“Look around here. This place, it doesn’t work because I came here and brought crime with me, no. I sprung up here, because they needed a space to do rank shit in. You could bring me out back, shoot me in the head execution style, and tomorrow you’d be sitting back in that chair talking to the same clown in different clothes. The way this goes is that you find a spot that works, and you grab onto it, and you hold on for dear life until someone either kills you or puts you away. I’m like mold, darling, wherever there’s a place damp, cold and dark enough, there I will grow. I’m a product of the people. Not the other way around.” I felt bile in my mouth as I looked around the area and saw the little evidence of illegal activities. Girls too scantily clad and flirty to not be working, powdery smudges on the tables, prints of guns under jackets. Behind me, Yoongi kept going on in his spiel.

“You put me behind bars, and tomorrow there’s going to be the same guy doing the same shit in the same place. The people will keep coming here and they will keep doing their thing here, it doesn’t matter to them who runs it, as long as they can fuck and get high in here.”

I turned back to him, and he was just sitting there like a king of the underworld, sardonic grin on his face while he looked over his hard work. He was beautiful and terrifying at the same time and there was something demonic about him in this dark lightning with shadows dancing over his face and cruel lips curved around sharp teeth. I felt my throat close up as panic seized me, shaking hands gripping onto the armchair to attempt and get some stability. My stomach was protesting, and I feared I might throw up if I stayed there a second longer.

“You’re disgusting,” I whispered. He smirked.

“And you’re naïve.”

I got up, turned around and left without looking back. Still, I felt his eyes burning into me all the way home.

I was soullessly staring into the computer, hopelessly trying to focus on my work, but instead I kept coming up short. My mind was elsewhere, unable to comprehend anything that was written in front of me. The fateful meeting with Yoongi had already happened a few days ago, but I still haven’t shaken off the effect of it.

His words, as cruel and self-righteous as they were, I knew there was truth to them. And I knew I had to do something about it. I had to do something about Min fucking Yoongi and his empire. So, as shaken as I was by the encounter, it also served to make me more determined. I’d help to bring him down, no matter what.

I stood up from my table and made my way across the office to the meeting room. I wouldn’t be able to do any work anyway, not right now when I was too pumped with adrenaline to focus on anything. I walked in and bee-lined for the back wall, which was covered in pictures and papers. Dominating in the centre was a picture of Yoongi. He was younger there, with short, bleached hair and face still a little plump from adolescence, but I could already see the signature smirk forming on his lips. Under him there were six more pictures, one of them Kim Namjoon which I had met for the first time a little over a week ago. Those were those closest to him, his friends who each monitored a different part of the gang’s activites.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much information on them beyond a few years back. Yoongi himself emerged out of nowhere when he was 16 and made a dent out for himself. At that time, he already knew Namjoon, God knows how. Together they quickly climbed the ranks of the Song gang, which was ruling over Seoul at that time. Back then, they were already notoriously known for their violence and determination, which made them favourites of the gang’s higher ups. They were also quite liked by the underdogs and quickly a group started forming around them. They were Yoongi’s loyalists and this… this was most likely the moment he realised he can soar even higher.

When the Song gang was falling apart, just like war strategy dictates, it was a matter of knowing whose side to take. Between four sons, two were on par, one knew he could only survive by hugging the thigh of the strongest and one was barely hanging on. If Yoongi chose his loyalties correctly, he could gain a lot. If he chose poorly…

But he didn’t. He took Namjoon and their dogs and together they stormed an “enemy” club – it was recently acquired by one of the brothers. He won the fight of course, and then brought the keys to Song Hwan, the weaker of the two winning brothers. He wormed his way in – offered his intel, his expertise and whispered poison in his ear. Every win he got for Hwan was actually a win for Yoongi himself and through Hwan he started laying base for his own road to power. Long before Hwan fell, most of the gang was already following Yoongi’s lead.

When the war ended and Song Hwan stood victorious, Yoongi murdered him and stole his throne. He went on a bloody rampage against everyone that didn’t support him and from the blood and fire emerged a new gang, a stronger gang, and at its centre – the devil himself with his six. That was seven years ago.

It wasn’t all sunshine and roses at the beginning though. His territory was contended often – others saw it as an opportunity to steal turf right from under his nose, and it took a long time before his gang was respected in the scene. They thought him to be a child that won by pure luck and love for killing, that he’d be easily taken down, either by one of them or one of his own. But he stood his ground and time and time again he proved himself, until there wasn’t a single person in this city that didn’t know he owned it. These were Min Yoongi’s streets, painted with blood, sweat and tears.

That’s when he started coming up on this unit’s radar until he gradually became the sole focus, the main purpose, the goal.

I stared intently at the mess of strings all connecting together people, events, news and crimes. Missing persons, corruption, arrests, murders, intel, dirt. It was all there, black on white. I reread the headers of the articles, the names of files and the accusations until I was dizzy and could barely make any sense of it.

After what felt like hours, I was brought out of my reverie by the sound of the door opening. I jumped a little and turned around quickly, an excuse hot on my tongue, but relaxed once I realised it was Minjoon.

“What’s up? Jae said you’ve been standing here just staring at the wall for whole 40 minutes,” he said in lieu of greeting and I blushed with embarrassment. So they saw me, I thought nobody here was paying attention to me. I peeked over my shoulder where some of our colleagues were curiously glancing our way. I frowned. Should have closed the blinds, I thought to myself.

“Just… catching up, refreshing the information,” I explained lamely and sat down at the table, still with a perfect view of the cursed wall. He hummed and leaned his back on the table. For a moment we just quietly existed there, side by side studying it.

“What’s with the sudden interest?” he asked a little hesitantly, “Not that I want to discourage you.” I sighed.

“It’s not sudden,” I muttered a little petulantly, “I’ve been coming here from time to time, I just mostly did it when no one else could see. Felt like I wasn’t really allowed to look at it.” He smiled a little at my attitude and went around the table to sit at my side.

“Why not? I think it’s great you’re outwardly showing interest.”

“Just- You know, it doesn’t feel like I’m welcomed here, I didn’t want to overstep.” He hummed again, but kept his eyes trained in front of us.

“So, what’s changed now?” he asked the question of the hour, fingers drumming a pattern into the table.

“I’m done with that,” I said firmly, glancing his way, “I am part of this unit, I’m staying and I’m solving this fucking mystery. I’m taking Min Yoongi down and I’m gonna be looking straight in his eyes the entire time I’ll be tearing his life apart.” Minjoon next to me chuckled, amused by the sudden turn of attitude.

“That’s quite charming,” he hummed again and finally turned to look at me. We both grinned at each other.

“You know… I understand,” he started hesitantly after a moment of silence. We both focused back on the wall and Yoongi’s picture in the centre of it was like a magnet – no matter what you did, you found yourself drawn to it. With slight reluctance I tore my eyes away from it to look at Minjoon questioningly.

“I mean… this, I understand this,” he stated more firmly and gestured between me and the wall, “I was also quite distraught the first time I met him face to face. He has a way of messing with you. It’s a mix of everything, I mean, you go months hearing about the atrocities of this one man, and then suddenly he’s there, right in front of you. And he just stares and stares and stares while talking calmly, too calmly for the crimes that he’s being investigated for. It’s unnerving. So, I understand.”

I knew exactly what he meant. It was the same feeling I had with Namjoon too – you know what they’re capable of, you’ve heard of their crimes and when you see them, you can almost feel the danger in the air, but the violence is hidden just beneath the surface. Sometimes you see it peek out momentarily in flashes of sharp teeth and slanting eyes, but then they reign it in and just play with you again.

“Well, yeah, meeting him was jarring,” I conveniently omitted having met him just a few days ago too, “but it’s not just about that. I just don’t want to be underestimated anymore.” He smiled at me, a real genuine smile, and it warmed me knowing at least someone here was on my side.

“But you joined the team before the whole Yoongi thing, no?” I asked suddenly. For a moment he was confused where this question came from, but then brightened up.

“Just barely,” he answered earnestly, “You joined like three months ago? In early September, right? For me, a one-year anniversary is actually coming up, I joined in December last year. It was just as all the shit was going down. They were investigating mainly this mid-size gang in Incheon that was wreaking havoc in the harbours and steadily rising in power. There was a lot of corruption in that area, and they managed to snatch control over some ports. The unit had been working on it for about two years and were super close to an arrest, but it went bust. The guy fled, a question about the corruption in the force rose and an investigation into our guys started. That’s when I joined.” I hummed in sympathy. That must have been extra rough. I told him as much and he gave me a thankful smile.

“It wasn’t easy. When I asked to be transferred, I thought everything in this department was okay, then I walk in and suddenly I’m in the middle of a botched two-year operation, forever lost suspect and a lawsuit waiting to happen,” Minjoon kept talking, “Within few weeks, the three guys had been suspended and a more in-depth investigation was promised. The case was lost, the boss had managed to flee somewhere south, most likely Malaysia, so it was put on a backburner and instead an open case that was sitting on someone’s table, slowly piling up more evidence, was brought forth. That was the Min gang. Two teams had already been tasked with looking into it and when it was confirmed that the previous case was dead, they made it a priority.”

I jumped in quickly to ask more questions. I’d never asked Minjoon about his time in the force before and till today I didn’t even know he was here only a year. He was always Park’s first choice to everything concerning Min Yoongi and he relied on Minjoon and his partner Hwang a lot, so I assumed he must be one of the more experienced members of this unit.

“Where were you stationed before?” I asked curiously and put my attention on him instead of messing with the wall.

“I was part of the drug prevention team,” Minjoon clarified and gave me a grin, “I was one of those fools they dress up nicely and send into schools to warn kids. It’s still a part of the force, but it’s a dead-end spot and you don’t actually do much, at most you here and there deal with some petty criminals selling weed on the street. It’s usually where older policemen go when they want to have some peace and quiet before retirement, it’s not the best place to start your career. But thanks to that I was able to make it here, cause my expertise on illicit substances was a big plus.”

“I see,” I laughed, “You’re right, that is pretty much a dead end. I didn’t even know they assigned youngsters there.”

“Well, they try to, because kids are nicer to them and they take it easier from someone closer to their age,” he explained, “Some graduates actually do ask for the position, but I was trying to get here and didn’t make the cut.” He was still smiling kindly and occupied himself by playing with the string on his hoodie.

“I was actually trying for the violent crimes unit,” I confessed quietly. I’d never told that to anyone here. Besides the fact that they absolutely weren’t interested in such information, I was also kind of scared they’d be acting even more hostile since I “clearly didn’t even want to be here”. “I got sent here because of understaffing problem,” I continued.

He looked at me and didn’t react in any way, just leaned back and said: “Oh yeah, we do work with them quite often. Can’t have organised crime without violent crime. If you survive it here for some time and make a little name for yourself, I’m sure it would be easier for you to transfer. But a lot of people strive for violent crimes, so it’s kinda cutthroat to get there.” I relaxed at his words and finally smiled back fully.

“Yeah, maybe I could make it there if I help with Yoongi,” I muttered and focused back on the wall, “I’m sure, considering his reputation, that violent crimes have their hands full with him.” Minjoon stood up and walked over to it. He raised his hand softly tapped on a poster of a missing man.

“Actually, unfortunately it’s more about missing people,” he said, “He has a great clean-up team, it’s super messed up.” His hand moved downwards and this time he tapped on a picture of two men. “You know these guys?” he asked absentmindedly.

On the photo, there were two incredibly familiar faces. One man a bit taller, with wide shoulders, dressed in a nice suit, his perfectly sculpted face in a neutral expression and framed by light brown hair. By his side there was the second man – a bit shorter but with much fiercer displeased expression. His hair was cut into a mullet and the hair just about touched his shoulders; he was clad in a fitted black turtleneck that gave away his strong lean muscles.

Of course I knew them. In this whole building there most probably wasn’t anyone who didn’t know them. Actually, I’d argue that in this entire city only a few people had the pleasure of not knowing.

“I’d be an embarrassment of a police officer if I didn’t,” I joked at him, “It’s Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok, they’re part of Min’s six.” Minjoon smiled approvingly.

“Tell me everything you know about them,” he challenged, teasing, “Shoot.” I gave him a wolfish grin as excitement coursed through me. He was giving me a chance to show I’d really been studying this case. I sat on the table and made myself comfortable.

“Kim Seokjin studied medicine and has a degree. He poses as the main seven’s personal physician, but the assumption is that he most probably deals with all wounds of anyone from the gang that were sustained during any illegal activities that cannot be taken into hospital. He owns a house up in Gangnam, just a few streets from Yoongi himself, and has a clinic there. He’s the second son of a pretty wealthy family, his record’s completely clear and it’s unknown how exactly he came to know Yoongi or became involved with crime.” I looked at Minjoon from the corner of my eye and he was just humming, but there was a pleased smile on his face. That gave me courage to continue.

“Jung Hoseok on the other hand, has been arrested several times for assault or causing bodily harm while getting into fights, but never prosecuted. Then he went off radar only to reappear a few years later as a part of illegal fighting rings. He quickly rose through the ranks and was a champion for three years straight. But that also means he most probably killed a lot of people, since these fights only end when one of the two fighters drops dead. It’s presumed that’s where he met Yoongi and became familiar with him.”

Minjoon nodded along and patted my shoulder. “Good job, newbie, you really did spend ungodly amount of time here,” he joked, but I felt the praise anyways. My cheeks heated up and I couldn’t help but feel intense satisfaction.

“It’s mainly Hoseok that’s in charge of clean-up, but Jungkook also participates. They do both clean-up of unwanted people and clean-up of unwanted evidence. Sometimes those two cross over. In other words, they both murder and get rid of it,” Minjoon spoke, his face serious, “I mean, that’s our theory anyways. If we were able to catch them murdering and disposing of a body, they’d already be rotting in jail. But the point stands – there’s a huge number of missing persons tied to this, mostly petty criminals or people known to be associated with enemy gangs. No bodies though.”

My eyes flitted to the picture of the mentioned younger man. Jungkook’s picture, for me, was really hard to look at, because unlike all the others, he was just a kid in his. It was an old photo, most likely taken from a yearbook, with his serious face still round and cheeks full of baby fat, dark hair cut short and styled neutral, but it still hit too hard. Especially when my eyes slid lower to a more recent photo, which depicted Jungkook standing on a balcony smoking, all hard edges on his emotionless face, long hair blowing around and blurring out his tatted-up fingers holding a cigarette and black shirt bulging with muscles. He was the youngest and it was also a mystery about how he became involved with Yoongi, the most we knew about him was that he came from a lower middle-class family and led an unproblematic school life as one of the top students. Where he met Yoongi, or even how he started to involve himself in illegal activities, no one except for them knew.

“The rest of them, as I’m sure you’re already well familiar with,” Minjoon continued talking, “are trying to look more legit. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin oversee some of his clubs and help him with the hotel and restaurants too. They try to seem like stand-up men with no ties to the underground to grant him an air of an honest man. And Namjoon, well, you’ve already met him. He’s in charge of the finances and that’s exactly where most of the crime is the most visible.” I nodded at him and gestured for him to continue.

“Yoongi’s smuggling in insane amounts of goods, everything from luxury items and artifacts to alcohol, exotic foods and ingredients, to drugs. He sells it to himself, supplies it to his own clubs and restaurants for dirt cheap and then makes crazy money on selling it to clients. If you ask for VIP treatment, you get it deluxe – you don’t have to lift a single finger, Yoongi supplies everything. You want a unicorn? He finds a way to smuggle it in. You ask, he delivers. Namjoon’s job is to make all this look legit, so that he can’t be busted.”

It was so much to take in, but I was finally starting to make sense in it all. Even though I’d been reading the files and trying to catch up on the happenings, there were things I was confused about, things that were lost in context or just lightly referenced without more information, and I had no way of fully understanding it until someone properly explained it to me and filled me in. I was waiting for it to happen in the first few weeks, even asked about it once, but I was shut down and quickly realised that no one was planning on talking to me about it. They rather kept me busy with petty stuff and didn’t let me get in on the operation. I was eternally grateful to Minjoon for taking the time to properly explain what they’ve been doing the past year.

“So that’s why you’re currently breathing down Namjoon’s neck,” I mused out loud, “You want in on whatever magic he’s working to make Yoongi appear as an honest businessman.” Minjoon nodded and added: “And that’s why Yoongi appeared immediately when we brought him in. Park wanted to get a feel of the man. See how he’d behave when interrogated and to test out how strong of a bond they have.” I hummed.

“They’re tight,” I stated, “And Namjoon’s impenetrable.”

We both sat there for a moment, taking in everything that’s been said. I was wracking my brain for a game plan. There had to be something I could do.

“Are you doing stake out missions?” I wondered. He looked at me a little surprised which quickly turned into embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I had no idea you were this much out of the loop,” he said quietly and rubbed the back of his neck. Now it was me who got embarrassed. I was about to stutter out some excuse or an apology, but he started talking again.

“Not currently no, there used to be some in the early stages, before Yoongi caught wind of the efforts. Now that he knows us and knows that we’re interested in him, it’s practically impossible to do stake out missions, unless you just want to annoy him and show him we're there. Not to mention it takes a lot of manpower which we do not have. We’re trying to crack down on the lower levels of the organisation. You know, take in some common mobsters selling substances, threaten them with a sentence and then try to get intel off of them. Some do agree to talk, but somehow Yoongi always manages to sniff them out and they don’t tend to end well. He has a tight hold on everything, despite the size of his empire. Mainly what we gathered is that he is an incredibly paranoid man, he most probably does very frequent inspections and doesn’t hesitate to get rid of anyone just slightly suspicious.”

“Well, in some way, it’s to be expected,” I pondered out loud, “A man that has accomplished this much, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s basically become omniscient.” Minjoon hummed in agreement and flicked some of the pictures around absent-mindedly.

“There was even an attempt to infiltrate,” he said quietly, “We did manage to get in, but it went bust pretty quickly.” I could feel it was definitely a sensitive subject and I didn’t want to pry, but the implication here was absolutely devastating.

“Did he…?” I couldn’t even bring myself to finish the question, but thankfully Minjoon understood. He smiled sadly, shook his head and said: “Thankfully not, but he did end up in a hospital for like two months. They messed him up. He didn’t even return to the force, wouldn’t be able to anyway due to some injuries. When I went with Park to confront Yoongi, he just straight up laughed in our face and told us we’d better feel grateful that he wasn’t interested in becoming a cop killer, because rats in his organisation usually end up much worse. It was the most we’d ever heard him admit out loud, but we didn’t even manage to record it or anything, we were too upset to think straight and missed an opportunity.” He sighed again. I was just glad that the officer ended up okay. At least Yoongi was aware that if he’d killed a cop, he’d become the most wanted man in the eyes of the entire force. There wouldn’t be a moment of rest for him.

Somewhere deep down I felt a little bit of shame though, because I did the same mistake just a few days ago. Yoongi didn’t end up saying anything even remotely that damning, but he still talked to me pretty openly.

I was just about to open my mouth to try and dispel the awkward silence that took over, but Park chose that moment to burst into the room loudly. He didn’t even spare us a glance, too focused on a folder in his hands. I’d jumped off the table in panic and straightened up, but he barely paid attention to anything else. Slowly our colleagues started filing in and taking seats. When after a while no one said anything about my presence, I sat down next to Minjoon, who gave me a reassuring smile.

Park closed the file and slammed in onto the table, then made his way over to the most interesting part of the room – the wall.

“Alright, emergency meeting,” he started, “we just got new info from violent crimes about the disappearance from two weeks ago.”

As I sat there and half listened to the information presented, a plan was starting to hatch in my head. Although Yoongi knew about me, could even pick me out from the crowd, I had to figure out a way to tail him. And when I did, I had to find out more about what Hoseok did. And where. And how. While my unit focused on Namjoon and worked from the bottom, I had to learn about the most criminal aspects of this gang to cover all the grounds. I had to catch a killer.

I’d never been on a stake out mission before. That was one of the few things they didn’t teach at the academy, and I had to figure it out all on my own, while trying to tail a man that probably knew even how many pieces of ham I put on my toast that morning (it’s always two).

Once I pulled information about Min Yoongi’s probable whereabouts, all I had to do was jump in my car and go find him, which was easier said than done. I’d decided to do this in my free time, since asking for the permission to tail him would most definitely not be met with much excitement in the department, especially since they themselves have given up on it.

Now, here I was, sitting in my car at 4 am on a Friday, intently watching a posh house in the middle of Gangnam, hoping that Yoongi is either already in there or soon to return. Since through my snooping I was left with several addresses all ranging from clubs, restaurants and a hotel through factories and warehouses to offices, I figured my best shot would be to catch him while leaving his house rather than running through half of the establishments in Seoul. I also pulled information on the other six, but quickly found out that we had working addresses only for like four of them, so no luck staking out Hoseok’s house or anything.

I was desperately trying to keep myself from falling asleep, the fact that I only slept 3 hours catching up to me, my head drooping and my eyes barely staying open. The house was dark, and I figured at this time he either had to be getting up soon or coming home to rest.

The next three hours were absolute hell. I was so tired, fighting sleep and frustration, I had gotten extremely hungry because I ate through my snacks in boredom, and I was losing my mind. Nothing was happening. Not even a shadow moved on his property. The fact that Yoongi was now probably sleeping happily in his bed, not a care in the world, was pissing me off beyond belief. And another thing – I was freezing my ass off. Duly noted – tailing for dummies: don’t do it in winter.

I had just begun losing hope that Yoongi’s even home, when suddenly a light came on somewhere in the house. My heart jumped with excitement, and I was so happy I could cry actual tears. It seemed that he started his day around 7 am. I wrote it down into my journal and ignored the rising feeling of being a total creep, keeping records on someone like this. This was a professional endeavour. I was doing it for the greater good.

I watched as the lights slowly moved downstairs to the ground level where Yoongi must have been messing around in the kitchen. At 8 o'clock the door opened, and a lady walked out, turning around presumably to say goodbye only to be narrowly missed by Yoongi immediately slamming the door shut behind her. She started shouting something and banged on the door for a little bit, screaming expletives and other interesting comments, before calling it a day and sulkily walking away. I took a look at her as she was walking by and winced. Damn, I definitely didn’t envy her the walk home in those heels. Godspeed, sister.

When the clock hit 8.30 am, a car rolled to a stop in front of the house and Yoongi himself walked out in all his glory. This time he was wearing a classic black three-piece suit with a white shirt, hair slicked back behind his ears, phone in one hand and a to-go cup of coffee in the other. He didn’t look around at all, just sped all the way to the car, got in and in a second, they were on their way god knows where.

I took a moment to check my own reflection. Compared to the sleek mafia boss, my hair was messy since I barely even brushed it that morning, my face puffy and unkept and I had an old, stained hoodie on. I was almost embarrassed. Almost. After a moment I’d decided I gave them enough space and pulled out of my spot.

I had the list of potential addresses sitting out on my passenger seat and as we began weaving through the city, I was trying to guess where they could be going. My mind was constantly on keeping enough of a distance to not look suspicious but be close enough to not lose them in the morning traffic. With my heart beating out of my chest and damp clammy hands tense on the steering wheel, I managed to follow the car up to one of the clubs.

The car had just stopped when Yoongi briskly jumped out and jogged to the entrance. He disappeared inside for about 20 minutes and then he emerged again, a briefcase in hand and a smile on his face. I jotted it down into my journal and then we were on our way again.

I spent my day like that. Yoongi had always rolled up to a club, for a moment went inside, then came out again, sometimes holding something and sometimes empty-handed. Once I even managed to catch a glimpse of one of his six seeing him off. Based on the head full of soft blond curls, it must have been Park Jimin.

Gradually as I went after them, I relaxed, setting into my new role. My journal was getting packed with information, mostly useless things about where we stopped for now. I would be able to put it to more use once I had more stable and reliable info about his routine.

Around 2 pm he went into one of his offices and stayed until 9 o'clock, after that he went back to the club where he met Jimin. I was all cramped up from sitting in my car the whole day, my back absolutely killing me. I was hungry out of my damn mind, and I’d run out of water an hour ago. I just wanted him to go the fuck home and stay there, but he stayed until midnight. When I finally saw him walk back into his house, 1 o’clock in the morning, I was done and tired, but regretting nothing.

That’s how my life went on for a few days. I’d spent full three days tailing him, showing up at his house at around 5 am (I’d given myself an extra hour, but I didn’t want to risk missing him leave) and then drove around the city jotting down all the places he went to and all the things he did. Currently my journal contained everything from the various items he carried around his clubs to his order in Starbucks (which I wrote down very reluctantly, but I figured since I’m already there, I shouldn’t half-ass it). When it was time to go back to work, I’d taken the journal with me and discreetly wrote down any kind of new information that my team brought in.

It was my fifth day of stake out when it all crashed down. I was feeling good about myself, thinking maybe I’ve managed to actually dodge his attention, but I also realised I knew nothing about the kind of scoping out his bodyguards did. When Yoongi moved about, he either had some stone-faced strangers I’d never seen before with him or there was Jungkook by his side, and I quickly came to the conclusion that his job must have also entailed keeping Yoongi safe. It seemed that I never actually popped up on their radar, I’d never noticed any suspicious glances around, no one from Yoongi’s squad had ever even looked in my general direction, so I thought I was good. I wasn’t.

I was sitting in my car, leisurely eating a subway sandwich. It was 4 pm, which meant Yoongi was going to be in his office for another few hours at the very least (that’s how it’s been for the past four days). My car was parked a little off to the side some distance from the main entrance, monitoring who came in and who came out, while the car in which he came few hours earlier was still parked in the same spot and some of the guys were standing around, smoking and talking. Jungkook was with Yoongi today and they went in together, so they most probably had some free time until Yoongi needed to go somewhere again. It had begun snowing a little while ago and everything felt quiet and peaceful.

Then suddenly my passenger door opened, and a person filed in, settling on the seat with a loud exclamation of “god, it’s so cold outside, isn’t it?”. In a split second my hand went for my gun, but I ended up grabbing empty air – I wasn’t on duty, I didn’t have a gun currently. Panicking I turned to the side, prepared to fight, only to come face to face with a smugly grinning Yoongi. The fear immediately all drained out and instead frustration burst through me like a grenade.

“Fuck!” I screamed and hit the steering wheel. I managed to get the horn and in the distance I saw Yoongi’s bodyguards perk up at the sound, immediately checking their surroundings with hands on what one could only assume were their concealed guns. Out of the corner of my eye I also saw a face peek in through the passenger door window to check on the situation, and realised Jungkook must be standing outside the car. Yoongi was just sitting there, completely unfazed, watching me with amusement.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled and glared at him.

“I could be asking you the same thing,” he drawled out, playing with his fingers unbothered, “Though I do have to praise you, we didn’t know about you for full two days. Guess we’re not used to having to worry about that anymore.” I closed my eyes and attempted to calm myself down. I didn’t need to embarrass myself further by throwing a full tantrum in front of them.

“How did you find out about me?” I gritted through my teeth and willed myself to relax more into the seat, stubbornly keeping my eyes in front of me and not looking over at Yoongi.

“You’ve been tailing me for days, of course we’re going to notice,” Yoongi replied cheekily. Then he gave me a once over. “No gun and no badge,” he hummed, “not on official business, then? Am I so charming that you just have to see me all the time?” He smirked at me playfully when he saw me peeking over, now starting to play with my little journal. It was closed, but I was still tensely watching him whether he’d decide to open it. By his smug expression, I had a feeling he knew what he was holding in his hands, and when he decided to put the journal down with a little playful wink, it was very pointed.

I cleared my throat. “It is official business,” I said, and really, I wasn’t even lying.

“Oh, is it?” he hummed noncommittally, “Because right now you just seem like a crazy stalker.” I looked over at him annoyed and he seemed to be very amused. A disembodied hand knocked on the window. Yoongi looked over and suddenly became more serious. It only lasted a second though, and then he was smirking at me again.

“All I can say is, I’m quite impressed, Y/N,” he winked at me, “Good job. Try a bit harder next time, though.” With one last amused smile he opened the door and clambered out. One hand leaning on the open door, he bent down at the waist to look in and contemplated for a moment what to say. Behind him I could see a hulking black mass as Jungkook immediately moved closer to safeguard Yoongi.

“See you around, officer,” Yoongi settled on in the end and then finally moved away from the door to slam it shut. I was left in there alone with all that cold air he let in and an unsettled feeling. I watched him cross the street to his own car, watched him as he turned around one last time and waved to me, then got in and sped away.

Only when I was left staring at an empty curb, I realised he’d called me by my name.

So… a change of tactic it is. Even though he didn’t say much, I didn’t think Yoongi had gotten into my car to threaten me. Quite the opposite, he seemed almost suspiciously encouraging. He most likely wanted to know whether I’d been assigned on this task or not.

Well, I learnt a few things at the very least. First, tailing everyday with the same car when you don’t want to be discovered is a big no-no (honestly kind of stupid on my part not to have realised that). Second – Jungkook was like Yoongi’s shadow and Yoongi’s bodyguards were all most likely under him too. He must be doing some intense scans of the surroundings, given the fact that after two days they realised a car was tailing them. After that they most probably just entertained me to see what I was doing and took the time to run a background check on me.

So, I had to find a way to be more inconspicuous. I was on their radar now; they would look out for me, and they knew more about me. Renting cars would get too expensive too quickly, it would also make me look very suspicious. My car was out of the question since they already knew it.

Honestly, I was surprised they let me tail them for that long when they already knew about me, but this might be the one time someone underestimating me would actually play into my cards. Because my goal wasn’t to aimlessly shadow Yoongi. It was to get closer to information about Hoseok. And I got a little tiny snippet.

When I sat at my computer at work the next day and stared mindlessly into the wall, I was wracking my brain on how to recuperate from this fumble. The previous night I had been going through my journal for hours, trying to come up with a way to keep a surveillance on Yoongi without letting him know I was following him, when I realised it.

Through the five days, I’d been catching glimpses of the other six. Of course, I saw Jungkook the most, but here and there I’d see Kim Taehyung’s shoulder as he was chatting with Yoongi outside of a club, Namjoon calling someone and smoking in front of the office building, Kim Seokjin coming out of Yoongi’s house, Park Jimin’s profile in the darkness of an alleyway by Yoongi’s car. They were all extremely close to each other and their lives were intertwined rather finely.

And I’d seen Hoseok too. It was for a split second, just a flash of the man’s face through a crack in a warehouse door, but I’d seen him. I had written it down, just mindlessly jotted down “door might have been opened by Hoseok”, and that was my chance. All I had to do now was start investigating that warehouse and move from there. Tonight, I had to go there and scope out the surroundings to see whether there was a place I could comfortably watch the area from.

The door to Park’s office suddenly slammed opened and I jumped in my seat, heart almost lurching out of my chest. I glared at my superior’s back and cursed his habit of storming into rooms as loudly as possible. He walked over to Minjoon’s table and started quietly telling him something. My curiosity won over and I couldn’t help glancing their way. Minjoon caught my eye for a moment and smiled, but mostly kept his attention trained on Park.

After a while of mumbling and several hushed okays, Park briskly walked through the station out to the parking lot and Minjoon and his partner both stood up and started gathering their things to follow him. I mournfully watched them get ready and grumbled behind my computer, but as I was about to petulantly grab some files and put them back into the cabinets, Minjoon came over to me and asked: “You wanna come with?” I stared at him for a moment, completely flabbergasted. He waited patiently until I got my wits about me again and then smiled when I started very enthusiastically nodding. The others in the station were also surprised, but I wasn’t about to give them my attention as I also grabbed my badge and a jacket and followed Minjoon out.

“It’s 7 pm on a Saturday, which means Yoongi’s at the Pied Piper,” he explained while leading me to the service car. Pied Piper was Yoongi’s most successful club, one that sat smack dab in the middle of Itaewon and drew attention with its fancy exterior and sleek interior. It was a hotspot for both locals and foreigners, and young trust fund kids often bragged about being on the VIP list, having the privilege to just come and walk in instead of having to wait endlessly in the line. “That also means that Namjoon’s currently sitting alone in the office. Park’s been tirelessly working on obtaining some insider info and he wants to go have a chat with the lawyer while he’s on his home turf.” I nodded along as we filed into the car and started on the journey.

I was a little nervous around the mysterious calm man. I could handle Yoongi’s endless banter, but Namjoon unnerved me with his silence and sharp eyes. It was as if he was slowly uncovering every little dirty secret you had deep within you just by looking into your eyes, he didn’t even need to say a word and you just wanted to spill all your sins. He was a dangerous man, an intelligent one that knew how to use it to intimidate others.

“Our job,” Minjoon suddenly spoke up after focusing on the road, “is to go to Pied Piper and annoy and distract Yoongi, so Park can have a peaceful uninterrupted moment with Namjoon. He doesn’t want Yoongi to even text him anything, so we have to put on a proper show.”

“I see…” I replied finally, the reality of the task setting in. I was a little relieved I didn’t have to confront Yoongi’s right-hand man, but unexpectedly I felt embarrassment flood me. I’d been having some truly awkward encounters with the man, and he seemed quite fond of teasing me. I was a little afraid he might blab about what I’d been doing in my free time and put a mark on my back within my own unit. I knew he definitely wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to put me in a difficult position.

The whole ride over I was preparing myself for dealing with the jokester again and potentially having to stop him from spilling some secrets. So, when we walked up confidently to the bouncer and Minjoon showed him his badge, I was full on panicking, nervously picking on my scarf with shaking hands. While we waited for the bodyguard to relay to Yoongi the police were here, Minjoon must have misunderstood my nervousness as fear of facing the mafia boss again.

“Actually, this is why I wanted to bring you with me,” he said quietly so nobody could overhear, “I wanted you to get over the first meeting, so you could continue with this task. Once you meet him a few times, the novelty wears off and he’s just an annoying dude that commits crime in his free time.”

No, yeah, I already knew that. I could cry inside, that wasn’t why I was nervous at all. But it was better he thought that than knowing I’d actually met Yoongi twice more already and he seemed to be getting quite interested in making my life difficult back. So, I just nodded and smiled at him gratefully, thanking him for bringing me along.

“Alright,” the bouncer suddenly came back to us, “right this way.” With that he turned around and made his way inside the club. I scrambled to follow after him through the crowded area, wading through partying youngsters. I could barely hear anything over the pumping bass of the music and with the flashing lights and crowds I couldn’t even really see what the inside looked like. I saw some dark grey walls, some mirrors and flashy patches of silver met with dark stone, but the rest was covered up with smoke and dancing bodies.

Similarly to the club I’d been to some week and a half ago, we were led to a staircase and up onto a gallery overlooking the ground floor, but it seemed that Pied Piper offered completely private rooms that were in a corridor off to the right, while left side was occupied by a bar. Surprisingly, it seemed that the VIP area also served as a sort of a restaurant, as I saw several couples and groups enjoying a dinner. The sound of the music wasn’t as overbearing up here and it created sort of a constant hum in the background, lending the space some added privacy from eavesdropping.

I expected getting led to a cordoned off little corner somewhere like before, but instead we walked through the entire area all the way to the back, and then up another, albeit a little smaller, staircase to a sort of a half balcony hanging over both the ground floor and the VIP area.

There on a velvet red couch, was sat Yoongi, greeting us with an amused smile. His pitch-black shirt and dress pants were popping with contrast to the vibrant red, just as his pale skin and long black hair was. For a moment I was so consumed by the vision that was Yoongi, that I didn’t even realise there were two other men present.

On a couch to our left, Kim Taehyung sat in all black suit, all spread out with legs wide open and arms resting on top of the couch, wavy dark hair framing his curious face, mischievous expression slowly taking over as he watched us grow more and more restless. And finally, leaning on a wall behind us, was Jungkook. He was expressionless as always and almost blended into the wall with his also pitch-black t-shirt and cargo pants. What was visible of his arms was heavily tattooed and definitely served as make-shift camouflage in this dark space.

I snickered and before I could stop myself, I was speaking. “Did we crash a funeral or what? What’s with the fits?” I glanced at all three of them amusedly. Taehyung started giggling while Yoongi full-on laughed. His face was coloured by surprise at my words and once again, I’d managed to catch his full attention. The nerves I felt combined with my annoyance at the man helped me put up a more confident front than I was feeling and I needed to take full advantage of that.

“Well, personally I think I do look quite ravishing in black, darling,” Taehyung drawled out seductively, righting his posture to lean closer to me, “Don’t you agree?” Minjoon looked between us confusedly and I made a mental note to make some excuse about why I wasn’t a complete wreck in the face of the three men.

I ignored Taehyung’s words and instead sat down on a chair straight across from Yoongi and Minjoon, who finally came out of his stupor, sat down next to me.

“So, tell me, officer,” Yoongi asked noncommittally, “What are you here for this time?” Even though he aimed the question at Minjoon, he was looking at me the whole time and I knew he was also experiencing the same déjà vu as me.

“You know, just checking that everything’s fine here,” Minjoon replied cheekily, watching me out of the corner of his eye, “Weekends can get pretty rough. We wouldn’t want a fight to break out.” Yoongi just scoffed and gestured to the general area.

“You don’t have to worry that head of yours, Mr. Jang,” he replied with a snark that I’d never caught from him before, “We have quite the few very strong and very professional bodyguards and bouncers around here. People know not to mess with them.” He looked back at me and then added: “Would you like something to drink or eat? I must say the appetizers are absolutely stellar today.” With a swipe of his arm, he gestured to the table between us that was decked with food. From my left, Taehyung giggled and leaned in to grab a few grapes.

To be honest, it felt like we were two stupid little lambs that wandered straight into the wolf’s den. And the fact that they were all around us didn’t help. It was finally starting to catch up with me and I nervously rubbed the top of my thighs with my clammy hands. I gulped and looked at Minjoon, expecting him to lead the conversation. I wondered how Park was fairing at the office and whether he’d already met Namjoon.

“Well, it’s our duty to look out anyway,” Minjoon shot back, “Serve the public and all that. Just making sure nothing naughty is going on. People tend to get a little crazy on Saturdays after all.” He was rewarded with a toothy wild smirk, all sharp edges and dangerous glints.

“Yes, they do tend to do that. If I see anyone being naughty, you’ll be the first one I’ll tell,” Yoongi laughed and gestured at the bodyguard at the stairs. He immediately turned around and left. I was on high alert, trying to track him from the balcony and see where he was going. The conversation between the men continued as they traded thinly veiled insults and passive aggressive remarks, while I was frantically searching the crowd.

I only relaxed when he returned to the balcony – a tray of drinks in hand. Each of the men took one – to my horror even Minjoon accepted a glass that was clearly meant for him and took a tiny sip. I gave him a pointed stare. He was the one that drove us here, for fuck’s sake! Not to mention there should be a golden rule about not eating or drinking anything given to you by a gangster in a club he owned.

The bouncer made his rounds, and the last glass was suddenly thrust in front of my face. It was a sex on the beach. It was the single cocktail I ordered and sipped on not to look too suspicious at Dynamite the other week. I shot the man in question a half surprised half horrified look. He was watching me from behind the rim of his own whiskey glass, eyes dark and curious for my reaction.

In the end, I took it because I’d started to feel awkward with the bouncer just standing there with his arm outstretched, but I immediately sat it down on the table, intent on not drinking it. I shot Minjoon another look, trying to signal to him he should do the same, but he was cooly sipping on his and only subtly shook his head at me. I pointedly ignored Yoongi’s gaze hungry for attention. I would not give him the rise he so wanted to get out of me.

“You see, right now I’m only trying to figure out in what club is your partner currently wreaking havoc, to have you here distracting,” Kim Taehyung suddenly joined the conversation, his silky deep voice catching me off guard every time. I jolted, but Minjoon kept his cool.

“You guys know us too well, this is getting a bit repetitive, isn’t it?” he joked back and drained his whiskey glass in a single big gulp, “Guess you’ll have to find out yourself. But entertain me here for a moment, otherwise you’ll just embarrass me in front of my boss and the newbie.”

Suddenly, four pairs of eyes were on me, and a wave of goosebumps ran through my entire being. I met Yoongi’s black eyes again and this time didn’t divert the eye contact. He leant forward, until he was leaning on his knees, and even though there was an entire table between us, it still felt dangerously close.

“You have been quite uncharacteristically quiet, officer,” he said and drawled out the nickname with a deep voice. I was afraid of what else might come out of his mouth, so I quickly butted in.

“What do you mean? You don’t know me at all,” it was both a warning to shut up and warning that we’d just begun, and he really did not know what I was capable of. My eyes were throwing daggers at him, but I tried to keep on a fake polite smile.

“Well, for someone who waltzed in here calling it a funeral and dissing our clothes, I was expecting some more smart comments out of you,” Yoongi explained, and I was relieved he was entertaining my threat to keep our previous conversations secret. He was looking thoroughly amused though.

“You’d have to be saying something smart, for me to have smart remarks.”

Kim Taehyung laughed out of surprise and pointed at Yoongi, who was fighting back his own grin. “She got you, hyung, you’ve gotta admit that,” he teased him good-naturedly and it was almost surprisingly wholesome to see them interacting as friends.

“There’s rarely anything smart said when talking to cops,” Yoongi retorted and it was more of a dig towards Minjoon than me, who stiffened next to me. It must have been a sore subject coming from Yoongi, which I understood with how hard he was making everything for us. Unfortunately, as a cop you sometimes did feel like the criminals outsmarted you… and then hearing them tease you about it, I’d be mad too.

“Okay, okay, we can sit here and call each other dumb the whole evening,” I mediated the situation before it went sideways, “Tell me then, Yoongi, what smart things do you want to talk about?” I spit out his name as if it was a curse, but I saw his entire being perk up at hearing it, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. I ignored it and waited for him to answer.

“Oh, I’ve got many things to talk about, one more interesting than the other,” he said dangerously, and I quickly realised we were nearing a no-go zone again. I suddenly understood why he was so interested in this, in letting me so near and never reprimanding me, playing with me like a cat does when it’s hunting for mice. He was getting off on knowing there was something I desperately needed him to stay silent about. At that moment, he was holding something over my head, something that could get me in a lot of trouble with colleagues that already didn’t like me, and if he threatened to press charges for harassment and stalking, he could most likely even boot me out of the force. But to him, it wasn’t about destroying my life. It was about amusing himself knowing I’m depending on him for something so important when I’m hellbent on taking him down. That way, he still remained in control of all of our meetings.

But I didn’t think he had the intention to truly rat me out. It was too much fun for him, and he seemed the type to let things play out. Ultimately, he must have believed once I became bothersome, he could shoot me down no problem, so why not amuse himself while the opportunity was there? So, I took a gamble. He wanted a challenge, maybe I’d give it to him. Maybe that’s why he encouraged me to do better and chase after him more.

“Yeah?” I said and trained all my attention to him, just as he always did to everyone around him, “I’m all ears.” He looked me straight in the eyes and I fought myself not to flinch away. The longer we stared, the more prominent the amused smirk grew on his face. He tested me, how long it would take me to break the eye contact and back down, but I steeled myself, squeezing the armrests with my nervous shaking hands, keeping the fear at bay by attempting to look as fierce as possible while falling apart with panic on the inside. Finally, it was him who looked away, but it didn’t feel like he ceded. It felt like we both won.

I released a breath I didn’t realise I was holding in and slumped a little into my chair, the tension suddenly draining out of my body in one fell swoop, leaving me almost boneless. Only now I started noticing the tense awkward silence the whole space sunk into, the other three men watching us with very different expressions. Jungkook as stoic as ever but with a hint of something in his eyes, Taehyung hungrily taking in the exchange with open curiosity and a playful grin, watching me as if I successfully tackled some kind of a challenge, and finally Minjoon, his face both confused and alarmed. I really had to think of some good excuse on the way back home.

Yoongi’s phone was buzzing on the table, but he barely paid it any attention. Instead, he gulped down his whiskey and gestured for the bodyguard to get him more, before turning to Minjoon once again.

“I’m sorry, but you seem kind of boring compared to the balls on this lady,” he mocked him, “this is the most fun I’ve had dealing with you guys.”

“I’m not here to amuse you,” I growled through gritted teeth. He flashed me a smile and said: “Oh, of course not, I know that. You’re here on a super secret, super important mission. But I am having fun, which normally doesn’t happen with these guys.” Minjoon snickered next to me, and his next words somehow felt like a punch in the face.

“I should have known that a pig like you would get off more on having a female detective grill you,” he muttered, fully aiming to insult Yoongi, but I stiffened next to him. I couldn’t figure out why, but his remark really didn’t sit well with me, putting me out of my comfort zone way more than anything the three gangsters did the whole evening, and Kim Taehyung’s first words to me were shameless flirting.

“Only a pig like you would only see the fact that she’s a woman and not that she’s just more interesting than you,” Yoongi retorted almost instantly, spitting out the whole sentence in a single breath, leaving Minjoon speechless with the quick comeback. Then he rolled his eyes, trying to stay as calm as he was when he came in.

“That’s not what I said, stop trying to spin this on me,” he said, clearly annoyed with the turn of the conversation, “We’re talking about you here.” I stayed silent and for the first time that evening yearned for taking a swig out of the now melting cocktail still standing on the table in front of me.

“Right,” Yoongi drawled out, running out of patience dealing with the officer, “And I’m a pig why exactly? Last time I checked that’s what people called the police. Not me. And especially not after I’ve just-“

“Shut up, both of you,” I jumped in, annoyed and not interested in whatever Yoongi wanted to say, “You can measure each other’s cocks when I’m not around. Act like adults.” Taehyung off to the side giggled again, thoroughly enjoying himself watching this all go down. I chanced a glance at Jungkook, who was attempting to hide an amused smirk by looking out of the balcony. I didn’t want to look at either of the men I had just reprimanded, but my attention was drawn to Yoongi when he cleared his throat and said: “Of course, I let myself get carried away. Sorry ‘bout that.”

I had been afraid he’d take it badly, but he was laughing when I looked at him. Minjoon looked angry, but stayed silent, instead he petulantly looked to the right, away from all of us. I guess I’d be reaping the consequences of that later.

The awkward silence was broken by the man I was least expecting to speak up. “They’re with Namjoon hyung at the office,” Jungkook briskly informed Yoongi from behind us. When I turned around, he was just putting his phone to his ear walking out of the space.

“Well, I guess the cat’s out the bag now,” my attention turned back onto Yoongi, who still wasn’t checking his periodically buzzing phone. I also pulled out mine to check the time. 7:43 pm. We’d been there for a little longer than half an hour, but it felt barely like ten minutes to my shock.

I looked at Minjoon again, seeking his advice on how to tie up this situation. He finally shook out of his embarrassed silence and was more or less back to his previous self.

“Well, thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Min,” Minjoon said, still a little strained and refusing to look at him for too long, “It was truly a fruitful evening.” Yoongi chuckled.

“Right, I feel like we all learnt a lot of things about each other,” he retorted mysteriously, giving me a grin and then turning to Taehyung, “It seems we both lost the bet. I said it would be The Rose and you betted on the hotel.” The Rose, another one of Yoongi’s clubs, was currently managed mainly by Park Jimin and situated on the other side of the city centre. It was another one of his high-profile entertainments, but most of the time it hosted the filthy rich and honed in on the feeling of privilege and prestige. That was definitely a club you couldn’t just get into from the street, no, you had to be invited in or taken by a member, that’s why the police were so interested in it.

“You were betting on us?” I asked surprised. Minjoon looked at me and grinned. “They do that quite often, actually. We do our best to try and keep them on their toes.”

I glanced at Yoongi, who as the entire time, was watching me closely. I hummed and pretended to think about it for a moment, and finally said: “Honestly, The Rose is a pretty good guess. Keep ‘em coming, I’m sure with an intuition like that, you’ll get it right once.” He laughed heartily and leaned in.

“I know it’s a good guess,” he whispered, “I get them right most of the time. I know you people, more than you think.” I shuddered and pulled away, hitting the back of the chair. With a slight flush of embarrassment at my earlier comment, I scrambled to get up and go on our merry way. That had made him even more amused, and I cursed both him and myself. I should really learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes.

Yoongi didn’t bother standing up as we were leaving, he didn’t even bother to check his phone, that had gone suspiciously silent. He just stared at me from across the room as the bouncer started leading the way back out and Taehyung waved at us with a little wink, looking annoyingly pleased and relaxed. I rolled my eyes at him one last time and then disappeared down the stairs. If I strained my ears, I could almost hear him laughing loudly at my antics.

Outside of the club, back by our car, Minjoon suddenly stopped in the middle of the empty quiet parking lot. I staggered to a stop as well, looking at him confused and slightly worried something happened. What if Park hadn’t managed to have that talk with Namjoon and was waiting for us mad at the station? Panic flashed through me, but I was surprised when Minjoon looked at me with worried sad eyes and started apologising.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about before,” he said and I could finally see the full extent of his embarrassment, “You’re right, we were bickering like a couple of little boys. It’s just- He always gets such a rise out of me. I try and not react, but he always does or says something that just pisses me off.” I softened a little at his genuine shame and a little awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I understand,” I replied quietly, “He got a rise out of me too. Don’t worry about it.” He smiled at me, a little lighter and less sad, and I returned it. When we returned to the station, Park didn’t say anything about us or our mission and just launched right into his spiel about Namjoon’s behaviour at the office. I considered that a win.

Later that night, sitting in the empty meeting room, Minjoon turned to me and said: “I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier, but you fared surprisingly well tonight. I wasn’t expecting you to be like… that. It was amazing.” I blushed both from his words and his gentle embarrassed gaze and played with the edge of my sleeve to escape his eyes.

“Thank you… When I get nervous, I just start blabbing out the first thing that comes to mind,” I replied with a half-truth half-lie. He didn’t need to know I’d been getting some practice with dealing with the infuriating man in my free time. That would stay between me, Yoongi and the devil.

The next time I saw Yoongi was actually a few weeks later – in January of the new year. As I promised to myself, I took the time to scope out that one warehouse where I caught a glimpse of Hoseok. I had been staking it out carefully for almost a week, losing my mind with boredom just watching harbour workers milling about, when I came to the conclusion that he actually wasn’t there. The one time I’d seen him there clearly must have been a fluke, because he didn’t come at all the entire week. It was a pretty easy to scope out location, and when I continuously didn’t notice any evidence of Hoseok’s presence, I had to face the reality that this just wasn’t one of his spots.

So, that sent me back to following Yoongi around. And I had to figure out how to outsmart the literal king of snakes.

One day, when I was walking through the station, it hit me in a form of a single simple leaflet pinned to a noticeboard. I stopped so fast I almost tripped over my own feet and then hobbled back to the board to take in the huge bold FREE MOTORCYCLE TRAINING FOR OFFICERS FROM THIS PRECINCT. I had to stop myself from laughing maniacally right in the middle of the station and immediately saved the contact information into my phone. It was time to learn some new skills.

While I started taking lessons to be able to get a license for a motorcycle, I had to hold off from tailing Yoongi. Rolling up to his house in a car he already knew would be just embarrassing to me and explaining to someone else why I needed to borrow their car to drive around Seoul for 24 hours straight would be too difficult and, not to mention, extremely weird. There aren’t enough excuses in this world to borrow a different car every night and I didn’t even know enough people to achieve that.

Sometimes I would snoop around his office building or clubs when I knew he either was there or wasn’t, depending on what I was trying to achieve. I also still periodically dropped to the warehouse, just to chance whether maybe Hoseok showed up that time. But no luck. It was like he got swallowed by the earth itself. It did make sense for Yoongi to keep him in the shadows, considering what we suspected he did in the organisation, but I didn’t expect for him to be this hard to spot.

Here and there I would go through the other buildings Yoongi owned and tried to figure out where he could be spending most of his time, but there were just too many. Thus, one night I ended up buying a huge and very detailed map of Seoul that took up almost all of my bedroom wall and got to work on that. First, I marked all of Yoongi’s properties including his house in red, then I added properties that were known to be in possession of his six each with their own colours, and then marked with different colours who I spotted where. Finally, I added post it notes with details of when I spotted them or when Yoongi went there.

As I stood in my bedroom, proud of my hard work, a realisation of what I was doing hit me. There was no going back now, and whoever entered my house and found his way into my bedroom would be positively creeped out. I myself had to admit that sleeping next to a huge map detailing the whereabouts of a certain individual that I acquired through illegal means wasn’t ideal, but I had to do what I had to do to help catch him.

And like that, Christmas came and went and suddenly New Year was here, and I found myself sitting in the meeting room, first thing in January, going over new findings and strategies. I was barely holding my attention to what was said, itching to supervise Yoongi again and trying to come up with ways to check on what he’s doing.

“We’ve made contact with a new informant,” Park said suddenly, “He’s willing to pass info to us, he’s fairly confident that he can dodge the safety checks since he’s seen people fail them quite often. He knows very well the consequences he faces if he gets caught and agreed to help anyway.”

“Which faction does he belong to?” one of the officers present asked him. Faction, that meant under which member of the six he worked. Since they all had such different areas of coverage, a lot of the time the personnel under them was directly employed to them and not necessarily to Yoongi himself, though he owned the umbrella corporation. These groups of employees directly belonging to a certain member of the gang we called factions or squads.

“He works around the clubs and the hotel, so he’s Taehyung’s, but he mostly gets into contact with Jungkook,” Park answered readily, “But, and that’s most important, he gets his fare share of time with Namjoon. He runs a lot of errands for him and Taehyung when they’re together. Which is often.”

Suddenly Minjoon leaned closer to me and whispered: “Namjoon spends most of his time at the office building, but he does go to the clubs and checks on their offices and bookkeeping periodically. Taehyung’s and Jimin’s responsibility is making sure that everything is ready there for him.” I nodded at him and gave him a grateful smile. I thought back to the five days I spent sitting mostly in front of the office space and I did see him a lot. He seemed to be an avid smoker and spent a lot of time standing by the side of the building smoking and shouting something into his phone. Maybe he was like Yoongi and went to the clubs in the morning and then spent the afternoons there.

I leaned to him and whispered back: “It’s almost unfair how much information we have on them and still can’t legally even give them a parking ticket.” Minjoon smiled sympathetically and patted my shoulder.

The meeting droned on and as I sat there, I decided that parking tickets actually didn’t sound half bad. Next time I went out after him, I should take some just in case. I vowed myself to be the most annoying menace he’s ever come across and I fully intended to hold up to that.

About a week later I was once again sitting at my table punching some useless information into the national police database, trying to stay awake as I’d been spending the nights crawling around the industrial parts of Seoul checking out warehouses and the surveillance around them, when Park, as was his habit, stormed into the room letting his door bang loudly into the wall. I’d stopped flinching at this point, no one in the room was even fazed, all of us have heard it so many times it wasn’t even surprising anymore.

As usual when something happened with Yoongi, he went straight to Minjoon and Hwang, his partner, gesturing for them to grab their things and follow him out. I tried to catch Minjoon’s eye, hoping he’d take me with them again, but he just shook his head at me gently. When both of the other men left, he made a stop at my table and in a hushed voice explained: “I’m sorry, not today. Something happened at a warehouse that’s on Yoongi’s turf, probably some kind of fight with a rival gang or something. The police officers from the area are already there, but they’re waiting on us to see. It’s a pretty ugly and bloody scene.” With that he ran out of the door, barely managing to wave goodbye as he rushed to the scene.

I looked at his retreating back in disappointment, not understanding his reasoning behind leaving me out of it. What was he worried about? That I’d be upset if I saw a little blood? That I shouldn’t witness violence? Determination rose in me as I got angry at the perceived discrimination. I checked the clock. 4 PM, Wednesday. I scrambled out of my chair and quickly grabbed my badge and jacket and ran out as well.

As I gripped my steering wheel like an insane person and drove through the centre, I was hoping that his schedule was as solid as I assumed, even though I didn’t follow him for long. In a few minutes, I was parking in front of his office building and charging my way inside like a storm. There was a lady sitting at the reception and when she first saw me walk in, she attempted to talk to me, but quickly gave up and lost interest when I just brushed past her.

I’d never been inside but I hoped that all the movies and series didn’t lie, and his office would be on the top floor, so I flagged down an elevator and pushed the highest button. Now finally standing here, I started getting nervous. I once again acted before I thought about it and standing in an elevator taking me to Yoongi’s office, I didn’t even know what I’d say to him. If he even was here. I had nothing to talk to him about except for inquiring about the disturbance at a warehouse, but I doubt he’d ever tell me anything about it, not that I even had any closer information to ask about. This was reckless and stupid.

The elevator slowly rolled to a stop and the door opened. I self-consciously walked out and took a look around. It was a nicely furnished hallway lined with dark wood and deep scarlet details. At the end a huge vase with white lilies stood, right next to an abandoned desk of who I assumed must be Yoongi’s secretary. To my left, straight in the middle, was a black double door, no doubt leading to the man of the hour.

I loitered outside for a while, gathering courage and thinking about how I should explain my sudden appearance. Right as I moved to the door, it opened and a black-clad figure backed out, both of us colliding between the open doors. With surprisingly quick reflexes he turned around and grabbed onto my elbow, stabilising me before I embarrassed myself in front of Yoongi again.

“Oh! Sorry about that!” a cheerful high voice rung out through the corridor, “I gotta watch the road more.” He ended it with a melodic laugh and his other hand grabbed onto my shoulder, finally shaking me out of my stupor. I looked up to thank him, the cheerful personality putting me at ease a little more, but as soon as I laid eyes on him, the words died in my throat on an embarrassing half choked sound. I froze up and just stared at him for a moment, until I could see confusion paint his face.

It was Jung Hoseok. Hoseok was standing in front of me. Laughing and joking around, hands still holding me upright.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, suddenly a little more serious, watching me with concern.

“She’s fine,” a voice from the inside supplied, “Maybe she’s just stunned with your beauty, with finally meeting you in person after staring at your picture for months.” All confusion and concern disappeared from the man and he started laughing again.

“Oh, so you’re the police officer,” he announced with a smirk and something a little more teasing crept into his voice. He finally released his hold on me and watched me with amused eyes as I stumbled away from him with red burning cheeks. So much for not embarrassing myself. It didn’t help that he most definitely was beautiful, almost unfairly so for someone who was allegedly a stone-cold killer. Damn these men to hell, what was it about being a mobster that attracted the good-looking guys.

“Thank you for catching me,” I gritted through my teeth, already staring daggers into Yoongi, who was leisurely sitting behind a huge dark desk in the room behind us, watching us with a lazy smirk.

“Don’t mention it,” Hoseok replied almost instantly and winked, “Well, I gotta get on my merry way. Have fun you two! Bye bye~” He waved at me cheerily and walked out. Then he backed into the room again and pointed at Yoongi in a teasingly reprimanding manner and added: “Not too much fun though.” With that, he was gone.

I walked into the room, completely flabbergasted by his surprising character. Yoongi watched me like a wolf, waiting for me to sit down on a chair on the other side of his table, as was our tradition by now. I could see the anticipation rolling off of him in waves, so I took the time to properly soak in the room. There was a lot of dark wood and grey tones with splash of colour here and there, but the darkness was offset by a huge three-piece window in the wall behind Yoongi. Right now, I could see the beginnings of what would soon turn into a sunset.

I knew I couldn’t win in a battle of will against him, so once I dragged it out enough, finally I moved over to the table to take a seat. Immediately, Yoongi had a cordial smile on his face, as if he was greeting an old friend and not a police officer. Speaking of that, I remembered something – I took the time to bring it for the sake of our second meeting.

Yoongi wordlessly watched me rummage in my pockets until I finally found what I was looking for. A second later, my hand slapped my badge on the table between us. I nodded towards it and muttered: “That official enough for you?” He looked at it shocked for a split second and then he was laughing.

When calm enough to speak to me, he said: “I see that whatever I joke about with you, you’ll take it to your heart. I’ll have to think about my words a bit more carefully from now on.” He stared at the badge for a moment and then thoughtfully hummed.

“Now, that reminds me, I should probably check whether you’re recording this talk,” he joked with me, “I won’t stop you of course, just watch my mouth.” Annoyed, I reached into my other pocket and this time I slapped my phone on the table. I went the extra mile of showing him it wasn’t calling anyone or recording anything, and then glared at him in challenge, all under his amused gaze.

“So, can we talk?” I bluffed, pretending like I showed up here for something specific. He made himself comfortable in his chair across from me and motioned for me to start. I took a moment to think about how to start. With no idea what I wanted to achieve here, it was hard to just start up a conversation. But it seemed I was worrying for nothing.

“Actually, I don’t need you to start,” he stated matter-of-factly, “I know why you’re here. With your colleagues currently running around in the docks, it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. But it’s not their usual MO, they’ve never sent here someone while they were investigating.” I stuttered under his piercing eyes, and he smirked. “So… not that official, is it.”

“It still is, though, I’m here during work hours regarding an on-going police investigation,” I defended myself somewhat petulantly, following his figure with my eyes when he suddenly got up and moved to a small bar in the corner behind me. With his back to me, mixing up cocktails, I realised I’ve never seen him from this angle, always had to face him head on and fight for everything I was and everything I did. This felt as if we were supposed to be relaxed in each other’s company and I didn’t like it.

He hummed again and turned around, whiskey in one hand and pink gin and tonic in other. He motioned for me to move and sit at a small green sofa in the other corner of the room, and I mindlessly listened to him. To my surprise, he situated me on the sofa and pushed the gin into my hand, while he himself made himself comfortable on the fluffy carpet, leaning on the table. The sofa wasn’t super high, but I still found myself looking at him from above for the first time ever. It was putting me off – he had to be planning something. Why else would he behave this way?

I put the glass on the table and gave him a reprimanding glare. “I told you, I’m on duty and I drove here.” He scoffed and sipped on his own drink, ignoring my words.

“And the things you’ll learn here, you’ll share them with your colleagues? You’ll go back to the station and divulge your findings?” he asked seemingly innocently, but there was a dark glint in his eyes. It was the most serious I’ve ever seen him. I didn’t know whether I should lie to him or not. I knew I wouldn’t share it, at least not until a little later, when there was an opportunity for me to showcase my knowledge in the most impactful way. And it seemed that he was aware of that as well. And the longer I took to answer him, the more obvious the answer was. So I chose to be honest.

“When the time comes for it, yes,” I said, and the words felt like ash on my tongue. I could barely look at him in that moment. I was doing something wrong, I was aware of that, I was putting my career on the line and bartering the information for my own gain and putting it out into the universe somehow felt like a curse. But Yoongi didn’t seem to care. He nodded and took a sip again, humming. I regarded him with suspicion.

“Is that why you came here to find out the information your own colleagues wouldn’t tell you?”

His question hung heavy in the air, and I froze completely. I was embarrassed that I couldn’t even disprove it, even though I didn’t think that’s why I came there. They really didn’t tell me anything. I would find out eventually when it was important for me to know. Or if I was lucky, I’d pull it out of Minjoon when he’d come in tomorrow. But I was angry and frustrated. I spent a lot of time studying Yoongi’s warehouses trying to find Hoseok, and he didn’t even give me a chance to tell him and ran. Didn’t even tell me a reason why exactly I wasn’t supposed to be there. So, I went and did something foolish.

But I still had to play my cards right.

For some reason, Yoongi seemed to be suspiciously eager to let me in on some of his dealings, from speaking to me openly that one time in Dynamite, to letting me tail him and even entertaining my clumsy attempts at distracting him or getting information out of him. Whether it was because he didn’t see me as a threat or because he was trying to play a game of his own with me, I had to use this to my advantage. As long as he was this willing, I had to try and milk this situation.

“Just trying to get all the points of view,” I answered cooly and tried to put up a strong front. I hoped that Yoongi had enough decency not to point out my obvious frustration and would take my words at face value. Which, thankfully, he seemed to do. He flashed me a smile and said: “Ah, I see. Just being a good cop.”

He looked at me for a moment and then suddenly got up. I was about to also get up, but he gestured for me to stay seated. He walked over to the table and leaned on it with his hip.

“I can’t tell you much more than what you’ll eventually find out about it,” he said, and it felt both like a ceding and a challenge, “But whatever happened there, we had nothing to do with it. A petty criminal allegedly affiliated with a group attacked another petty criminal allegedly affiliated with another group and it didn’t go as well as he hoped.” I wished I knew more about the situation to ask additional questions, but I knew this would be all I’d be getting out of him either way.

“Well, that’s not much,” I couldn’t help the dig and he scoffed. “Don’t complain when I’m being this gracious,” he retorted jokingly and pointed a finger at me much in the same manner as Hoseok did to him earlier.

I was about to retort too, when the door flew open. For a moment I almost thought it’s Park and my heart jumped into my throat, but the panic disappeared as quickly when I recognised the man as none other than Kim Taehyung. He waltzed in straight to me, paying Yoongi no mind and sitting down on the sofa next to me.

When I moved to stand up, he quickly caught my hand and gave it a swift kiss. “We haven’t been formally introduced yet,” was the first thing that came out of his mouth, “My name is Taehyung, but feel free to call me Tae.” I raised my eyebrow at him as he gave me a million-watt smile and slowly settled back into the couch.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Kim,” I replied, deadpan, and pulled my hand free. Somewhere in the room Yoongi laughed, but before I could turn to look at him, Taehyung spoke to me again.

“How mean,” he fake pouted and slumped into the sofa, only to spring up again immediately, hands going for the pink gin and tonic, “Is this free?”

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” I replied, stunned. I could have stayed silent though, as the glass was already halfway to his lips and there was no stopping him. He gulped down half the glass in one go and then offered me to take a swig too. I was so surprised by his erratic behaviour that I subconsciously grabbed the drink thrust into my personal space and froze.

“Come on, just one little sip,” he goaded me, seemingly all in good spirits, but I knew listening to whatever gibberish he had to offer me was a one-way ticket to hell. I pushed the glass back into his hands and said: “I’m sure you’ll enjoy it much more than me.”

Taehyung suddenly leaned into my personal space and seductively whispered: “If that was right, then I would be doing it wrong.” With his suggestive words hanging between us, obviously no longer talking about alcohol, I blushed so aggressively I might have combusted on the spot and pushed him away until he was squished into the other corner of the sofa.

Alarmed at his words I instinctively searched for Yoongi, holding out hope that he would sort out his friend and school him on how to act in front of a detective and a woman, but I found him half sitting on the armrest of the chair I previously sat on, attentively watching us with a light amused smirk.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered cocky, “He still hasn’t been house trained.” There was a whiny “hyuuuung” coming from somewhere behind me, but I was done with this conversation. I had just had enough of interacting with these lunatics, so I got up and started getting ready to leave.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” Taehyung teased, “I’m just joking around, I always try this on new people to see how they react.” I huffed, slightly angry but more humiliated. “You mean new women.”

“Actually, he doesn’t care about that at all,” Yoongi answered for him, “You should have seen him when he first met your boss and the other cop, Jang. He almost got arrested for public indecency cause he made them so angry.” I turned to look at Taehyung to gauge the truth to this statement, only to find him properly embarrassed and almost as red as me. The image of Taehyung shamelessly flirting with a seething mad Park while Minjoon watched completely horrified entered my mind. I snickered at him and relaxed again.

“I should have known that cops have no sense of humour,” he muttered for himself, but then quickly shot me a wink and added: “No offense.”

“Don’t worry,” I replied, “That’s the least offensive thing you’ve said to me today.” Taehyung only smiled at me sweetly, as if he was the picture of sainthood and not whispering naughty words to people he barely knew on the regular.

I went to check the time and with a start realised I’d left my phone and badge just laying on the table when I earlier moved to the sofa. After quickly grabbing them, I walked over to the door and turned around. Both men in the room were looking at me curiously. I gave them my own wolfish grin and said: “Thank you for your cooperation.” With that I was gone.

So, that wasn’t the most fruitful thing I’ve ever done. I found myself even more confused about the strange behaviour of a man with such a reputation as Min Yoongi. For a moment teasing, for a moment dangerous, for a moment honest and genuine? I had no idea what he was doing, what he was trying to do and why was he letting me get away with so much, but everything about him and every one of our encounters was extremely suspicious.

Well. Even though it disappointed me a little, I knew that it was most likely because he kept underestimating me. So, I had to change that.

A week later I’d finally gotten a license for a bike. I was spending so much time there that I even became somewhat of a running joke between the lectors, but I couldn’t explain to them I was in a time press because I had a gang to dismantle and a mafia boss to humble. That would have made things real awkward real fast.

But now, with a license and slightly used black bike, I was virtually unstoppable. At least in my mind. From there I slowly got back into my routine of tailing Yoongi. During the month and a half I was out, I had been spending a lot of time staring at a map of Seoul and embarrassingly enough, I’d started to remember the streets to a point I could have become a cabbie. Maybe one day when I’ve inevitably lost my badge because Yoongi snitched on my unprofessional misconduct, I’d give it a shot.

I was absolutely sure to him I was just some cute little animal that sometimes barked and growled a little but would never do much worse than piss on the floor, but the moment I’d actually bite a nerve, he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of me. I had to work quickly, before I became too much of an eyesore to him.

Speaking of which, Yoongi didn’t stray from his routine too much. In the mornings he would alternate between visiting the clubs, restaurants and his hotel, then he would either stay at the hotel’s office or move to his office building. In the afternoons he sometimes went to certain warehouses, but from what I could gather, it was mostly Hoseok, Jungkook and surprisingly Namjoon, who came to him with information about these places. The weekends he’d spent in his office until the clubs opened and then went either to Pied Piper or The Rose, both in which I wasn’t able to enter again.

Sometimes I would let Yoongi sit in the office and move to the warehouses. I alternated between them, checking on them to see who was where, and saw Jungkook and Namjoon very often. Hoseok stayed ever so elusive he might as well have been a ghost, but I was absolutely sure he must have been actively communicating with Yoongi.

I even tried to tail Jungkook, but the man was impossible to track down. No matter what I did, I’d always lose him after a few minutes, and I never managed to stay on him for longer than a few streets. I’d become so good at taking all kinds of back streets and alleys to keep out of sight that his ability to just disappear was truly mind-boggling to me.

While when I tailed Namjoon, I quickly realised that he moved in a very constricted area between the offices, some of the clubs and some of the warehouses. He never lingered for long when he was out but was capable of sitting for hours upon hours in the office building, so that ultimately also went nowhere.

The map in my room was quickly becoming crowded with differently coloured strings and post-it notes, in the evening (or sometimes early morning) I’d come home and add another new little thing and I was feeling like an obsessed stalker a little more every day. From Yoongi’s point of view, I most likely was. But it had to be done.

It had to be done.

It was one regular Tuesday when I chanced upon gold. I was sitting on my bike, bored out my mind, stuffing my face with fast food watching Yoongi laugh about something with Jimin and Taehyung outside of one of his clubs, when a black car with tinted windows pulled up. It was a car I sometimes saw with Jungkook, so I more or less knew to expect the young man, but when Hoseok in all of his glory jumped out and walked over to hug the two youngsters, I was so surprised I almost choked on a hot dog and fell off my bike.

Jungkook came out of the car right after him and immediately started looking around, so I ducked and started pulling my bike a little more behind a corner. The five men conversed for a moment and then Hoseok waved and started walking towards a different car. I watched him full of anticipation, my fingers flexing on their own, eager to try my best at tailing Jungkook if it meant I’d get to find out where Hoseok worked. But to my absolute elation, Jungkook wasn’t following. Hoseok was leaving alone. Fucking jackpot.

I was so happy I almost passed out. I didn’t know what sort of luck this was, but I wasn’t about to complain.

Hoseok walked over to a sleek silver sports car and sat in the driver’s seat. I was getting ready as if I was about to run the marathon, my sweaty hands nervously fidgeting with the handles of my bike, body taunt as a bow. He stayed still for a moment, a moment that felt like hours to me, but then I heard the faint sound of a running engine. He waved to the others again, and then he was off. I pressed myself into the building as he was passing me and then quickly followed.

I’d never been that nervous about tailing someone, not even when I first went after Yoongi almost two months ago at the beginning of December. This was most likely my only shot for a long time, there was no telling when I’d be able to spot him again.

He drove to one of the many docks that were under Yoongi’s control. In this particular area, they owned a whole three warehouses that looked over some of their ships and imported goods. I was here a lot when I was trying to find Hoseok on my own, I figured this was such a hotspot, if he went somewhere, it would probably be here, but I never caught sight of him. Now I was proven right but felt annoyed that I missed him so many times.

The reason for that turned out to be quite simple. The biggest warehouse, situated closest to the water, had another door that I haven’t noticed. It was in the back and blended into the wall so well I almost thought for a second Hoseok’s just loitering in the back banging on the walls. When a patch in the wall suddenly opened and he disappeared inside, it was like unlocking a whole new world in my mind. No wonder I’d never seen him, the whole time he was coming in from the other side.

I admit, it was a bit reckless to pour my attention here after a single sighting, but I was willing to risk it. I took the time to scope out the area while Hoseok was inside (if he was anything like the others, he’d be spending hours there anyway).

A little ways to the left was a small building, but right behind it I saw an abandoned half constructed concrete monstrosity, most likely a leftover of attempts to redevelop this part of the capital city that crashed and burned on the involvement of gangs in the area. I made my way to it.

It was fenced off, but a little probing here and there, I was able to break into one of the fence gates. Inside I apologised to whoever owned this building, but it was very obviously uncared for, so I justified myself in that way. I probably wasn’t even the first person that broke in, I told myself as I made my way up the stairs. I swallowed the sour sensation that left me with and trudged on.

Within an hour I found a perfect spot to stake out. It was high and secluded enough to see the warehouse and its surroundings without a problem if I used a telescope, while I wouldn’t be risking being seen by the people on the street. It faced the second exit, which must have been used by Hoseok enough to escape my notice the first time around. In two days, I’d return here and watch.

It almost felt like things were looking up, like I could finally stop mindlessly following Yoongi around and move forward with this case, and for the first time after a long time I felt some sort of joy and relief.

I reached into my pocket to take out my phone and take a photo of the number on a nearby column, so I’d be able to find it easily again, but found it missing. For a hot moment of panic I thought maybe I had dropped it somewhere around Yoongi’s club, which would mean he now no doubt had it and I’d have to go get it from him, and it would be extremely embarrassing. But then I realised I must have left it at my table at the station that morning when I stopped by to hand deliver some documents to Park. I looked around to find something that would immediately catch my eye upon entering, but in the end I decided to just luck it out and left.

On my way home I’d stopped by the station for the phone and ended up having a coffee with Minjoon. For a brief moment, when I sat in a cafeteria, drank that shitty coffee and laughed at some story Minjoon was telling me about his first few months in the force, I found myself thinking I wish all my days were this nice.

I should have known it wouldn’t last, though.

Due to the fact that it was still January, I was absolutely freezing my balls off on stake out the next few days. Sitting in an open room in minus temperatures staring into a telescope the whole day turned out to be a pretty bad way to spend one’s time and quickly I was turning very cranky. I was hungry, cold, thirsty and even though Hoseok turned up and took the back entry, he just sat there for the whole day and didn’t come out until evening. I was mostly just watching some of the low-tier mobsters mulling about, moving about crates, caring for the ships and continuously walking in and out of the warehouse. Which was something I had already seen when I was staking out here before.

It seemed that the reason Hoseok was so hard to find was because he spent literal days holed up in that metal building, doing god knows what.

On my fourth day I was absolutely losing it. I spent the morning at the station and then went straight here. Hoseok’s car was already present, but other than that there was no other trace of his existence, just like the other days. He didn’t even come outside to smoke like Namjoon would. Not one of the other boys came here either, which was weird since they always seemed to be in close vicinity of each other. I was tired and frozen and I could feel the beginnings of a nasty cold and I was getting nowhere.

My day got exponentially more interesting though, when Yoongi’s black car rolled up to the back exit. It was the first time in the four days he came here, and the first time since I’d started tailing him that he came to this exit. That should have been my first warning.

I watched as Yoongi walked around free of all troubles, wide smile on, and if I wasn’t currently more than 100 metres away from him, I’d punch him in the face. The door opened and Hoseok stepped out to greet him. I could cry with happiness at the first appearance of the man in days. And also punch him in the face. Together they disappeared inside, and I was left with the same sorry view as before.

Impatiently watching the clock, I saw the minutes drift away into two hours of silence and no movement in the back. Just when I thought about just slipping into a coma to escape this hellhole, I heard movement outside my little spot. Instantly alerted, I quickly stood up and pressed myself closer to a wall where I wouldn’t be immediately noticeable from the entrance into the room. My whole body was stiff from coldness and hours of just sitting, my muscles protesting and painfully pulling until I was barely able to hobble away.

The steps got closer and closer until a figure clad in all black stepped in. For a moment I thought it was Jungkook and was a second away from wailing in frustration, but it wasn’t him. It was a young man, based on his clothes he must have been part of Yoongi’s security, but I didn’t remember his face from before.

He located me in a second – after all, there weren’t many places I could be hiding in a completely bare concrete room. Without a word he thrust his hand to me. My eyes slid down to see a take-out coffee. When I wasn’t taking it, he impatiently moved his hand, trying to get me to relieve him of this definitely extremely bothersome task.

I did take it, mostly because I didn’t want to annoy him more when Yoongi was already doing such a good job of it and sighed in defeat. How the fuck did he even sniff me out here? The guy looked at me and then said: “Boss wanted me to tell you that he truly thinks it’s admirable how hard you work in such cold weather.” His face was completely unreadable, but I knew he must have thought this was such a laughable situation.

I wanted to feel angry, I really did, but I didn’t even have the strength to do it. Instead I sighed and pinched the root of my nose between my fingers. Frustration coursed through me and now I was annoyed with Yoongi too. Did he become omnipotent or what?

I returned the poor guy’s gaze and said: “Please send a message back. Tell him that he’s annoying and I hate him.” He nodded and left, no expression on his face. A true professional.

From then on, whenever I got closer to them, Yoongi would send me a subtle message that he knew about me. Either he would send me food or drinks or just stand in my line of sight and wave in my direction. Sometimes when I knew he could see me too I returned the gesture by flipping him off, to which he always laughed. Taehyung also caught on and to any birds sent their way he sent back a kiss and a wink.

It took me embarrassingly long to figure out that they planted a tracker on me. One night in a mad fit to find it I turned upside down most of my apartment. At 3 am I was standing on the street, pawing at my bike like a crazy person, attempting to stuff my fingers to all the nooks and crannies. A passing woman looked at me as if I was sexually harassing my own vehicle and after that I rather returned back home, not interested in getting the cops called on me.

Every time I went to stake out, I would leave home an item, just to try and narrow down where it could possibly hide. I decided to trust that my bike was tracker free and I bought myself a set of completely new clothes even though I thoroughly checked the old ones. I would wear different shoes, even if I knew there was no way they got to them. One day I even chanced moving about without my wallet. They still found me. And that’s how I realised what the only thing that I had on me all the time, no matter what was. My phone.

I thought back to the day I stormed into Yoongi’s office, distraught and upset, how he acted strangely nice and comfortable. Taehyung’s strange behaviour and my phone. Lying on a table, away from me, but close to Yoongi wandering around. He was messing about that table even when I stayed sitting on that damned couch.

All I could do was laugh at his craftiness. At how easily I fell into a trap of his softer demeanour because I was surprised he sat on the floor and talked seriously, how I let Taehyung completely consume my focus by flirting and teasing me. I had to applaud them, really. It was brilliant and I walked right into it. I was so stupid, I let him fool me even though I was suspicious of him the entire time.

At first I feared he was tracking me through the phone itself, but when I inspected it closer, I noticed a little bump under the case. When I took it off the phone, there it was. A tiny little tracker attached to the plastic.

I wondered what Yoongi was trying to accomplish. He put a tracker on me, but then also made it obvious that he knew more about my whereabouts than he was supposed to. He was quite literally giving it away. Therefore, knowing about the tracker didn’t necessarily put me at an advantage since I had no idea what his goal was. I decided to keep it there until I made up my mind about what to do.

But I was petty. Really petty. And as impressed as I was with my ability to fall for Yoongi’s cheap tactics, I was also peeved. That’s how one day I found myself at our station, loitering around an office where the IT guys had their stuff. When one of them rounded the corner, I immediately took my chance. It took a lot of persuading and lying. A lot of “I’m from this department” and “I was tasked with getting one for the next mission” and such, but twenty minutes later, I was leaving the room with a tracker of my own. Was it technically illegal? Yes. Would Yoongi find the tracker within the first 24 hours and then triumphantly return it to me while telling me to try better next time and I would return it right after before anyone noticed I ever had it in the first place? Also yes. No harm done, just a little revenge.

After that, every day for a week I went straight to Yoongi’s office. Whether I was on duty or not, every afternoon I was sitting on his stupid little sofa, grinning at him mischievously and sipping on tea that he started offering me instead of stiff drinks. I would find anything to talk about, I joked and played and asked stupid questions I knew he’d never answer.

And I could see it on him, he was trying to figure out where this was going. He would look at me, intrigued and confused, his head just whirring with ideas of what my new plan could be, and I was enjoying it so much. Sometimes he’d just stare at me in that way he did to people, and I’d stare right back at him and I was able to laugh. For the first time it felt like we both were trying to catch the other off guard, and not as if I was just mindlessly walking straight into his traps. For a few brief moments, the scales were balanced, and I liked that I was able to keep him in suspense. But I also had to move on from this.

At first his eyes would follow my every move, sharply watching me interact with things he had in his office, but once he'd become used to my presence, become used to how I hovered over things and examined the décor and played with the little trinkets he had on display, I was sometimes able to slip his attention. And then, on the seventh day, when he left the room for a split second to call for Jungkook down the hall, I slipped the tracker into a little tear I had noticed on his jacket, along with a little surprise for him, when he found it (which would be soon).

I walked out of there without saying much, wearing a mysterious smile on my lips when both men turned to watch me leave. Once outside, I took the tracker off my phone and slipped it into the bag of a random guy passing me by on the street. Let’s see how long before they figure that one out.

The game was on.

Series masterlist | Next part

A/N: thank you so much for reading this! i hope you enjoyed yourself, feel free to interact, i will be grateful for comments or asks of all sorts :)

Divider from the amazing @saradika-graphics <3

Taglist (open) : @wobblewobble822

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ladykailitha · 9 months ago

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Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 15

The second part being released today. And it's looking like people really want more of this AU. Which, I really should have seen coming.

So once I get my backlog up for Moonlight and Indiana (I just need to write one more chapter each to get the stories up to three chapters) I will start working on it for you.

And because I've been zooming past my daily goal of 400 words a day (I'll often get 1500-2000 words a day) I've decided as a way to pump the breaks so that I don't get too far ahead again is to spend my evenings editing stories for my beta to edit for AO3. I already have one in the works, I'm just waiting for her final edits to put it up on AO3.

In this we have Steve being awesome at what he does, he dodges one hell of a bullet because Robin is awesome, and Eddie falls just a little more in love with Steve.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

****

Steve was busy leading up to Eddie’s rut, Chrissy being right about him getting more clients just from being on Eddie’s arm.

Everyone clamoring to see what it was that made Eddie fall head over heels in love with the omega escort.

Steve ate up the attention. He had talked to Eddie about the actress and how it made him feel.

Suddenly Eddie was all apologies. The actress was a good friend of his and he had just been so excited to see her that he forgot what it would look like to Steve. Especially since Eddie hadn’t introduced them. Plus it had left Steve open to Tommy’s sneering.

Steve had backpedaled then. He hadn’t meant for Eddie to make a big deal out of it. He had thought that Eddie would apologize, they’d fuck about it and Steve would learn that with Eddie being as famous as he was, Steve would just have to learn to share him.

But Eddie wouldn’t let him. He had hurt Steve’s feelings over something that he could have and should have avoided. Now he knew why Tommy’s words had stung as badly as they had.

So he showered Steve with all the affection in the world. Taking him on picnics to the beach one day and bowling and miniature golf the next. Fancy dinners and shopping sprees. Intimate to formal, fun to stately. Concerts and plays.

Every spare moment Steve had was spent being wined and dined by Eddie.

The courting was intense, but then again so was Steve. He liked intense, he was intense.

Steve was getting ready for a final rut, before Eddie’s next week when Robin called him up.

“Hey, what’s up?” Steve asked in confusion. “What’s up?”

“Management just flagged the client.”

Steve’s blood ran cold. It took a lot for management to flag a client. They always did checks on their clients before letting them hire their escorts. But sometimes they’ll do a deeper check if they feel something is off.

“What caused the flag?”

“Something in the wording,” Robin said. “I had been trying to pin down where I had heard it before. It was only yesterday I realized it sounded like some of the stuff the alpha from the Grammy’s was spouting as we hauled his ass out of the venue.”

If Steve was cold before, now his spine was ice. “Holy shit.”

Robin hummed her agreement. “So I had Hopper dig deeper. It’s–it’s not good, Steve.”

“Just tell me.”

“The idiot had used his real accounts to plot your kidnapping after going through all the work to hide who he was to the company,” Robin said grimly.

Steve sat down on the sofa with a thump. “Was he–did he know where I–Robin I’m scared.”

“I’m already in the elevator, babe,” she said softly. “He doesn’t know where you live or even where Eddie lives, okay? Starcourt alerted his security detail as soon as the plot was uncovered.”

Steve breathed out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Will I still be able to service his rut?”

“Yes,” she said, “I’m at your door, I’ll tell you all about it, face to face, okay?”

“Okay.”

Robin let herself in and hurried over to the sofa to throw her arms around him.

“Everything is okay,” she promised. “There hasn’t been a successful kidnapping of a Starcourt omega since the 1940s. Trust us, we’ve got this on lock.”

Steve nodded. “Tell me about Eddie’s rut.”

Robin grinned mischievously. “You’re going to love it.”

“Oh?” Steve’s interest was piqued. That interest drew him from his fear and anxiety, just like she knew it would.

“It’s going to happen here.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit!”

“It gets even better,” Robin said sing-song.

“How could it get any better than that?” Steve asked once he had picked his jaw up off the floor.

“Management is letting him know where you live,” she squealed.

Steve’s hands went to cover his mouth. “Shut up! Tell me everything!”

So she did.

She broke down what would happen if Eddie’s rut broke through the scent.

She went over the different things that would happen due to it being in Steve’s room with his nest, but it was amazing news.

“What made them decide to let Eddie in on the secret?” Steve asked when she was done.

Robin set down her tablet she had used to go over all the information and turned her full attention to him.

“Because he tried to cancel his rut servicing with you but with you still getting paid because he was worried that you might be followed to his place,” Robin explained.

Steve blushed a deep red.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He looked up at her with glistening eyes. “He really loves me, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, yes he does.”

****

Steve didn’t have any other clients that week, so he spent the week getting his penthouse suite ready for his alpha. He already knew Eddie’s favorite snacks and how he could just eat handfuls and handfuls of trail mix as long as there weren’t raisins. So Steve subtly tried out other dried fruits and found he loved dried apricots. So those replaced the raisins.

Protein shakes were okay as long as they had some chocolate in them. But he could tell if there was any herbs to them. Thyme, basil, you name it, if it was there, Eddie wouldn’t drink them.

It was actually kind of fun tailoring the rut servicing to what Eddie enjoyed. Cotton sheets over satin. Certain brand of bottled water. How often he was lucid during the five days.

His nest was carefully packed away into another room, so that Eddie’s scent didn’t get embedded into the materials. There would be plenty of time for that when they bonded, doing it too soon could result in a faux bond and Steve would get sick.

Which was the last thing either of them wanted.

Steve was fluffing the pillows for the millionth time when Robin radioed that Eddie was about to pull up. He made his way to the front of the hotel and watched as Xander pulled up to the curb.

Eddie stepped out onto the pavement and looked up at the hotel in shock.

“La Rose?” he asked Steve in confusion. “Isn’t this where we met up for drinks after my interview?”

Steve grinned, taking Eddie’s bag from Xander. They walked past the hotel bar and Eddie turned to him.

“Holy shit!” he gasped. “It is! I thought we met up here.”

Steve giggled. “We did. I just came down the elevator instead of arriving by car.”

“How the hell did you manage that?” he asked, bumping Steve’s shoulder with his own.

“Robin,” Steve said proudly. “She can work any magic she wants to with management. I swear she has blackmail information on key members.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “That sounds like Buckley.”

They finally got to Steve’s floor and he pointed to a room to the far right. “That is where you’ll be taken if I go into a mini heat.”

“Wouldn’t they want me to be far away from you as possible?” Eddie asked.

Steve shook his head. “They want to whisk you away to a nearby room on the same floor so your scent could calm me down and help me through my heat. If they took you off the premises I could get rejection sickness.”

Eddie blinked at him a moment.

“Oh.”

Steve smiled and led the way to the door that would lead to his apartment. He opened the door and moved out of the way so Eddie could enter first.

“Wow, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “This is amazing. You live here all by yourself?”

“On this floor,” Steve answered. “Have a seat, we’ll talk about the coming rut and then get you settled. I’ll just put your bag in my bedroom.”

Eddie did as he was told, sitting on the nice fluffy sofa.

“All right,” Steve said, sliding onto the sofa next to Eddie. “So walk me through your ruts, what happens?”

Eddie squirmed a little. This was Steve Harrington, professional escort, and not Stevie, his hot omega boyfriend speaking.

“My pre-ruts start hard and fast,” he said, rubbing his chin in thought. “Then they last five days and I’m barely lucid through them. It’s how I got caught by that omega who told me they were infertile. I wasn’t conscious for much of it.”

Steve nodded. “When do you lower the light in wherever it is that you spend your rut?”

Eddie blinked at him. “Lower the lights, what do you mean? You don’t have sex with the lights on?”

“You’ve always had light on during your ruts, even at night?” Steve asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Not lucid enough to turn them off,” he said with a shrug.

Steve picked up a remote from the coffee table and closed the drapes and dimmed the lights.

He could see the physical change that came over Eddie. His shoulders relaxed and his eyelids drooped. His skin color which had been pale and clammy when he arrived was starting to get color back in his cheeks.

He tilted his head up as he examined the lights. “What is this feeling? I feel warm and drowsy.”

Steve sighed. “It’s how ruts are supposed to start. But it’s not mentioned in health class or anything. The bright lights signify to our poor little lizard brains that we’re still out in the open where we can be attacked, instead of safe in our caves. It wasn’t until the advent of modern light that it was ever a problem for alphas, but the science of it has come a long way in recent years.”

“Huh.”

Eddie rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You think that’s why I’ve had trouble staying lucid because I’ve been forcing myself to be on high alert all the time?”

“Could be,” Steve agreed. “But even if it isn’t, you can trust me to keep you safe. I will not trick you and I will not harm you. You want condoms on all the time, I will be sure to change them as often as required. I’ve been on birth control for twelve weeks as you requested.”

Eddie blushed. “Thanks for sending me the video of you taking the pill every day, that must have been so humiliating for you.”

Steve shrugged. “I’m an escort, the amount of humiliating things I’ve had to do, that doesn’t even make the top twenty.”

“What, now?”

Steve laughed. “Alphas will sometimes hire us for humiliation roleplays. Did a fair number of those before I was big enough to reject them. But I know a couple of omegas that live for that shit, so if a new omega is really uncomfortable with it, the roleplay will be passed to one of them.”

Eddie blinked again. “Darlin’, the more I learn about your profession the more intrigued I am.”

“At least you’re intrigued,” Steve chuckled. “Most aren’t. They tend to be pearl clutchers about it.”

“Not even the highest paid actresses have to do the kind of work you do,” Eddie breathed. “Why aren’t there award shows for you escorts?”

Steve smiled sweetly. “Because it’s all confidential. But maybe I can convince a couple of my friends to do our own version of that for booze and prizes. I think it’d be a hit.”

Eddie grinned. “Oh to be a fly on that wall.”

Steve reached out and rubbed his arm. “How are you feeling? Is the pre-rut still progressing or have you hit full rut yet?”

Eddie frowned as he took stock of his body.

“Still in pre-heat,” he said thoughtfully. “Huh. My uncle was a beta, so he wasn’t able to teach me this sort of shit, but you would have thought that someone along the line would have said something.”

“The education in this country is still woefully behind for anything regarding sex,” Steve said ruefully.

Eddie snorted. That was like calling a hurricane a little summer storm.

“But at least they teach you this shit,” he said.

Steve grinned. “Indeed they do teach me this shit.”

He got to his feet and gently led Eddie to the bedroom. He got undressed and sat down on the bed. He took Eddie’s hand and directed it to his thighs.

“Is it time, baby?” Eddie murmured, looking down at this beautiful, smart, talented omega in utter awe.

“Almost, alpha,” Steve purred. “But being in bed when it hits is easier on the knees.”

Eddie cackled and Steve’s omega chirped happily.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed back, “the things that cute little noise does to me.”

Steve laid down on the bed, as pretty as a picture and oh how Eddie wanted.

He got undressed and slid the first condom on. He straddled Steve’s hips and kissed him deeply.

“Oh, Stevie,” he murmured. “I feel so good.”

Steve stroked Eddie’s cheek. “And I promise it will continue to feel good for the next five days.”

Eddie looked into his eyes and believed him.

****

Part 16 Part 17

Tag List CLOSED: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv

@wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee

@littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt

@apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr

@ellietheasexylibrarian @rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf

@melodymeddler @mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #omega steve harrington

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 8 months ago

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IT'S NEVER OVER - PROLOGUE (sept. 2005)

summary: if anyone asked sid, he wouldn't say that he liked pittsburgh more after meeting nat. no, that would be absurd.

warnings: short and sweet! (none)

a/n: hi, hello! am i posting this without having finished it? yes. i don't know how long it's going to be but i'm slowly chipping away at it and i'm pretty excited about it. it might even be my favourite series thing i've done so far, and weirdly my first one? i've had the entire thing outlined for months but i've been too busy to even think about posting it, so...here you go! i can't promise posts for this will be regular because the chapters are so long, but i'll try my best to keep you posted! hope you enjoy (a series mastrlist will be out soon too so you can get the gist of where i'm at in the entire process) xo

sneak peak | pinterest board

(It started with music, but Nat didn’t know that.)

It was a total accident, a random encounter that Sidney couldn’t possibly have predicted – one that, without exaggerating, changed his life to an extent. On a whim, he’d decided to go into that coffee shop he’d walked past everyday for the past three weeks, and it was also on a whim he actually made it to the counter to order an uncharacteristic coffee – he was newly eighteen, being pulled in all sorts of sports-diet directions, the confinement of which kind of irked him, so to him, buying that coffee was a subtle rebellion.

It was also a complete accident that he’d wandered off to the right after taking his coffee from the counter, instead of left, or forwards, or even backwards.

Sidney wasn’t one to believe in fate or destiny: he believed those terms were too magical – they alluded to some other worldly forces coming into play, and he liked to stick to facts. Coincidences. Accidents. Nevertheless, he did find it almost inexplicable, the way that his life hurtled into a completely different route after a mere forty minutes inside a coffee shop that he’d just spontaneously decided to make a trip of. He couldn’t quite get his head around it all.

To him, it was a coincidence that he’d walked past her table. A coincidence that she happened to be blaring the only song he’d been able to listen to for the last four days. He’d barely made it three steps past her before he froze.

She was wearing those over-the-ear headphones, the ones with orange sponges from the 80s, plugged into the iPod that had come out a few years back. He recognised it because everyone that had one in his high school before he left never shut up about it. Sidney admittedly did own one at the time, but he never really felt the need to show it off – it was much easier than lugging around a cassette or CD player with songs burnt in.

The song still had him halting in his tracks and turning around, his body much further ahead than his brain because he had to steady his mug of coffee; his sharp actions had the liquid almost sloshing over the edge, but he managed to catch it just in time.

He wouldn’t have done either of those things: stop and turn, if it had been any other song he’d heard. He was just so taken aback by it – the exact, precise song.

The girl at the table didn’t pay him a single dime of attention when he froze, despite the fact that his hip was practically nudging her table. She wasn’t even looking in his direction, her eyes gazing out of the window on her right, skipping over empty faces as people walked past. It was clear she was supposed to be doing work of some sorts: there were textbooks, novels, and flashcards scattered across the entire table, a pencil case half emptied with pens strewn all over. She had a pen clutched in the fist she was resting her chin on, not caring for the study cards at all – entirely enamoured by the view.

Sidney followed her eyes. There wasn’t much to look at, just a street, and her chair was directly facing the side of a retail store, clothes and mannequins displayed in the window.

In hindsight, Sidney didn’t really know what compelled him to do what he did next.

He couldn’t tell if she was bored and just looking out, not paying attention to the music flowing into her ears, or if she was just so absorbed in what she was hearing that she couldn’t physically bring herself to think about her work – that she’d tuned out the outside world entirely.

What caught his attention the most was the crease between her brows. It drew him to look straight at her; an alluring combination of chestnut hair and pale eyes – though not too pale that they made him uneasy. She was also probably the only person in the establishment that was around his age.

She had impeccable music taste, if he did say so himself.

Yet, he couldn’t shake the inkling that this girl was wholly feeling the brilliance and soul-crushing heartache of Jeff Buckley’s genius – and he found himself hoping she was.

That was why he cleared his throat and took a small step to the other side of the table. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, noting that the cafe was pretty busy, so he knew he could at least try to get away with what he was about to do.

He made sure to tilt his head up, because the hat covering his face would be nothing short of slightly suspicious in a public setting, and it wasn’t until he purposefully knocked into the chair that she flicked her eyes to look at him.

He held his breath, a moment when all they did was look at each other, until the crease in her brows disappeared and she reached to pause her music on her iPod, slowly sliding her earphones off so they rested around her neck.

“Hi.”

His assumptions had been correct. She was around his age – her voice was deeper than he’d originally anticipated – and when he found himself slightly closer than before, he was able to make out that she was studying for her SATs.

It was September.

“Hi.” He replied, forcing a smile that he hoped would convey the apology he felt for intruding on her personal time and in her personal space. Her clutter was all over the table, and he knew that if she was hopefully as kind to strangers as he hoped she’d to be, that it would be somewhat of a hassle to shove some of it away, “I’m really sorry, but there aren’t any other tables free. Would I be able to–”

“Oh, sure.” She interrupted, immediately going to reach to sweep a space clear for him over the other side of the table. Sidney watched with a mildly amused gaze; she didn’t seem to care for the way her flashcards seemed to mix themselves up, or the way her textbooks snapped shut and she lost her page.

She flashed him a welcoming, slightly embarrassed smile as she piled the books on top of each other, and before Sidney knew it, he was sitting in the chair opposite, accidentally knocking their knees together in the process, and sipping from his coffee mug. He fought to maintain the thankful smile on his face, despite the utterly bitter taste of the coffee that seemed to fester on his tongue.

No wonder he’d never tried coffee before, it tasted like dirt.

The girl broke a small chunk of a muffin off, a smile breaking out on her face as she fought a small laugh.

Sidney blushed, “I’m not a big coffee-fan.” He reasoned, shrugging.

“I can tell.” She pressed her lips together momentarily, looking down at the plate before turning her attention back to him. Sidney felt stunned at the colour of her eyes. He’d never seen grey eyes before, but hers seemed to balance more on the green side – only when the sun struck the side of her face, they turned a watery, clear blue. There was also a tinge of brown thrown in there.

What was that called? Heterochromia?

He felt his mouth dry, and before he could stop himself, he was taking another sip of his coffee, this time managing to control the urge to wince, “Thanks for letting me sit here.”

She shrugged, gathering the flashcards and lining them up, “It’s no problem. Sorry for the mess.”

He let his eyes wander over the books once more, the green ‘SATs’ letters jumping out at him, “You got an important date?”

The girl swallowed, not entirely understanding what he meant. That crease formed between her brows again, and she opened her mouth to question him, but Sidney beat her to it, a finger pointing at her stack of books.

She sighed, “Not entirely, they’re at the end of the school year, but one of my teachers gave us an assignment to get some study material done early.”

Sidney couldn’t say he understood her stress – it was something displayed across the planes of her face; evident when she looked rather tiredly at the stack of books, and hesitated at the flashcards, before throwing them to the side. She folded her arms across the table, then switched so that her hands were interlocked in front of her.

She looked as though she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, and Sidney couldn’t tell if it was because of the presence of a stranger, or if she was already feeling some sort of academic guilt for throwing her attention away from her studies for a couple of minutes.

He saw her jaw clench, and at that observation, the thought that maybe he was paying a little bit too much attention to her crossed his mind, so he turned his focus to the cup of coffee. He was beginning to feel its effects; his knee was shaking softly under the table and he could feel an influx of energy spark at his fingertips. Or maybe it wasn’t the coffee at all.

He hadn’t thought about hockey for five minutes.

He saw her turn her face towards him out of the corner of his eye, and he looked up, “What about you? Are you in school, or…?” She trailed off, her eyes skimming over the logo that had flashed itself from the safe and unzipped confines of his hoodie.

He felt his heart quicken at having been caught, worried that perhaps she’d shout out who he was – if she knew – across the entire cafe. He remained optimistic; she didn’t seem the type.

He cleared his throat, “Not anymore.” For some reason he hesitated. He could play off the logo as merchandise – he could be someone other than Sidney Crosby, the New Rookie of the Pens – or he could be honest. When he looked back at her, there was a challenge in her eyes, and Sidney knew then that she already knew who he was. “I just got drafted to the Pens for my first NHL season.”

She sighed, “Can I tell you something?”

Sidney furrowed his brows, his mouth tilting down in a smile. He was new to the whole ‘local celebrity’ deal, but this by far, is probably one of the least impressed reactions he’d ever had. She clearly knew he wasn’t in school, but had still taken the kind courtesy to ask him the question, despite the futility of it.

He nodded.

“I only know one Pens player.” Then she pointed to something out of the window, “That banner has been staring at me every week for the past three months.”

Sidney huffed a laugh, thinking she was joking, but followed her finger anyway. He was immediately faced with a street corner, tens of people walking past each other – he could even make out their voices if he concentrated hard enough, and it took a while to figure out what exactly she was pointing at, until his eyes settled on a billboard at least a block down.

He’d been told that for press reasons, the Pens had come up with the idea of a way of promoting him as a player, and a ‘person of Pittsburgh’, by plastering some action shots of him – still staged – around the city. He’d neglected to look up lately, fearing that if he did, he’d be faced with some images of himself, but he hadn’t escaped that entirely.

The billboard was small, and he wasn’t the only player on there, either, but he saw it nonetheless.

When he spun back around to look at her once more, the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “There’s two other players, not just me.”

She shrugged, “I was talking about Sergei Gonchar.”

Sidney felt the blush colour from his chest to his cheeks as he slowly put his hands over his face, consumed by humiliation. He felt himself smile into his hands when he heard the girl huff a snicker. He’d had quite a few people as of late kissing up to his ego, and apart from his teammates, she was the first one to really deliver a considerable blow – and he was thankful for that; that at least someone still had the ability to look past who he was and tease him like he was a normal person. He was aware of the irony that lay there.

He gathered himself, unabashedly removing his hands and displaying the creeping blush for her to see, and sticking his hand between them, “Sidney Crosby, rookie center for the Pittsburgh Penguins.”

She rolled her eyes, not commenting on the state of his cheeks, her smile fading slightly but still remaining, “I was joking, I know who you are.” She took his hand in hers, gripping it tightly, “Nat Brooks. Student.”

Sidney swallowed, his blush remaining for other reasons, and pulled his hand away, flexing it under the table, “Is Nat short for anything?”

“Natalia.”

“‘S very pretty.” He mumbled, and she smiled sweetly.

“Sidney’s very pretty, too. It suits you.”

Something clenched in his chest.

#sidney crosby x oc #sidney crosby fic #it's never over prologue #nhl fic #nhl series #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby oneshot #sidney crosby x reader

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deanwritings · 1 year ago

Text

The Guest House - Prologue

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 2,225

A/N: Welcome to the start of The Guest House! This little bitty came to me while I was staying at a lake house and relaxing, so really excited to dive in.

Chapters will be posted weekly on Wednesdays.

If you would like to be tagged in the series, just leave a comment or shoot me a message and I'll get you added.

Enjoy!

You dig your nails into your fingertips as they sit in your lap underneath the table. Your heart was finally leveling off as your review was coming to an end. So far your marks had been glowing; your metrics were up, your peer reviews were stellar, all that was left was to hear if they would be promoting you.

You’ve been working for that next step for a year and a half now. After most of your team quit, you took the opportunity to show your bosses that you could run the department with a can-do attitude and hard work. You’ve brought up a promotion a few times at your check-ins with your boss, and she assured you it would be a topic of conversation at your next review, which would be ending in the next few minutes.

With a polite smile, you look across the table at your direct manager and her boss.

“Any questions?” Your boss asks plainly, and your brow furrows as you look between them. If you didn’t know any better, it sounded like they were wrapping up the meeting.

Your lips fall apart and your heart jumps into your throat as you realize what’s about to happen.

“Uh,” you start as you squeeze your fists together. “I was hoping to discuss my possible promotion.” You loosen your smile as you try to keep your eye contact divided between both of them.

The two share a small look.

You’re not getting promoted. Is what that looks says.

Your boss’ boss clears his throat as he readjusts in his seat.

“After reviewing your performance, we do not feel a promotion is appropriate at this time.” He says with a tinge of forced sorrow.

Your stomach plummets as your jaw clenches.

How could they not be promoting you? You’ve been working the job of at least three people for over a year now without complaint. You’ve spent countless days staying late and making sure projects didn’t fall wayside while the company took their sweet ass time looking for replacements for your team.To their own admission, your metrics were good, so why the hell wasn’t your hard work being recognized?

“I don’t understand.” You swallow to keep your voice from shaking. You never pushed back on your bosses. Ever. But you thought today was the day you were finally going to be rewarded for everything you’ve done for them.

“You just said that my metrics were up and I was performing above expectations. What is hindering him from getting a promotion then?”

The two look at each other again and you can feel yourself beginning to shake as they bide their time for an excuse.

“Y/N, you have performed well this past year for the most part, but there were concerns with your performance in January.” Your boss folds her tanned hands on the faux wood tabletop as she speaks up. “You let things fall through the cracks and were distant from your work. We feel that is not reflective of someone who should hold a Senior Management position.” She offers a soft smile and a shitty excuse.

It takes your brain a moment to catch up with what they were talking about; January. Two months ago. Your aunt passed away suddenly from a heart attack as she was making dinner. You can still hear your mother’s cries over the phone as she called to tell you the news that her sister was dead. And at only 52.

You were only able to take one day off from work for her funeral, as you were in the middle of a project launch and it was all hands on deck. When you returned, yeah, you were “distant.” You were mourning the loss of a woman you loved dearly while trying to help your mother and cousins navigate their grief as well. Your aunt’s passing also made you scared for your own mother, who is a few years older, and some night’s you couldn’t sleep as you thought about life without your best friend. It took you weeks to shake free from the heartbreak and anxiety that had engulfed you, but you came back strong and started excelling once more.

And there your bosses sat, in the all-glass meeting room of the shared workspace your company rented out because they were too cheap to get a full-blown office, throwing your aunt’s death in your face and using it as the excuse as to why they would not be promoting you after more than eighteen months of slaving away for them with barely a thank you.

You laugh through your nose and shake your head as you swallow hard.

“We’re happy to talk more about this in a few months at your next check-in.” Your boss jumps in, and you bite down on your lip. “We know you’re committed to this company and role, and we want to make sure we help you get to the next level.” She smiles at you like she actually believes the bullshit she’s spouting.

You take a deep breath and genuinely smile back. You always prided yourself on keeping a cool head, especially at work. But a line had crossed, and even for you, enough was now enough.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Your boss ticks her head at your words. “Because I quit.” You stand up and smile down at the two asshats you gave everything for, and now realize, you would never get anything in return from them.

Both of their mouths fall open as they share a shocked look between them.

“Y/N, let’s not do anything rash.” Your boss’ boss stands as well, holding his hands up. “There’s no need to jump to something like this. I’m sure there’s something we can work out”

You push your chair in, your smile not wavering.

“I feel that this review is not reflective of a company I want to work for anymore.” You throw their words back to them. “I’ll have no issue finding a new role that values my hard work and dedication, and won’t use a family member’s death as a reason to squirrel out of a rightful promotion.”

“Best of luck filling my role.” You turn on your heel and hurry down the hallway to your shared office. A few coworkers glance up at your haste entrance, but you ignore them as you grab your purse and start grabbing the few personal effects that would fit on your tiny, shared desktop; just a single, unframed picture of you, your parents, and your brother, a few fidget toys, and your favorite pens. The rest belonged to the company, just like you had.

Without a word, you fling your purse onto your shoulder and with your head held high, carry yourself out of the office without a single glance back. As you step onto the elevator, you smirk as you watch through the all-glass walls as your bosses shout at one another before the doors close.

“You what?” Your mother gasps through the phone at your news. You knew your parents weren’t going to take this well, and you were prepared for it.

“I quit.” You repeat, even though you know she heard you the first time.

“Y/N, what on God’s green earth would make you quit without another job lined up?” She huffs.

You think about your Aunt Rose, how your bosses used your grief as an excuse not to give you a well-earned promotion. She was always free spirited, having career-jumped her whole life. She started as a bartender, then worked as a sous chef for a catering company before she decided she wanted to be a radio DJ. Years before she died, she had gotten her real estate license and was working as an agent right up until she passed. You had always been the opposite, very much a mirror of your mother. You went to a good college and got a business degree. You had worked for a few companies over the years, but you always stayed in the same field, working your way up the ladder. You never wanted to take a risk with your career, you had worked too hard. But working hard got you nothing but late nights and a bullshit yearly review.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement. And you can barely recall the last time you got together with your friends, let alone a date. You had married your job and it had been a toxic and loveless relationship.

It was time to start fresh and take some time for yourself. Which is exactly why you had seventeen tabs of house rentals open on your laptop screen as you half-listen to your mother as she continues to admonish your rash decision.

“It’s going to be good for me, mom.” You cut her off once you’ve finally had enough of her harping. You loved the woman to death, but my god once you wind her up, she doesn’t stop.

“I have enough savings to comfortably get me through six months without a job. I’m going to take a few weeks off to reset, then I’ll hit the ground running with the job search.” You cross your legs as you languidly swipe through rental photos.

After a few more minutes, you finally hang up the phone and start seriously considering your options.

You wanted to get away upstate, not so far away that you couldn’t get back for anything important, but far enough to feel like the city wasn’t in your rearview mirror. You figured a month would be the perfect time. Four weeks of a quiet town to relax and rediscover your love of reading and writing. It’s been ages since you actually sat down and read a good book. You were never good at art, but maybe you’d even find a studio to do some painting or finally give pottery a try. For the first time in your life, your time would be your own to sleep in and do whatever you wanted with your days.

As you click through listings, you notice one that is significantly cheaper than the rest. Curiously, you click the link and a gray-sided cabin with a red tin-looking roof brightens up in front of you.

NEW LISTING! Private Guest House, Hot tub included.

One bedroom guest house available for rent. Relax in the peacefulness of upstate while being a short driving distance to town. The guest house has a full bathroom, complete with tub. There is also a hot tub on the patio that is for guest enjoyment. 10 minutes from downtown with plenty of bars and shops to keep you busy. The owner lives on the main property, but will keep to themself unless you need anything. Perfect for anyone looking to getaway!

As you click through the photos, you’re greeted with a warm, wooden interior, a wood burning stove, a fairly updated kitchen, and a queen bed with an adjacent master bath.

The cabin feels a little too good to be true for the price, and you click “Contact Owner” at the bottom of the page.

“Hello,” You start your chat. “I’m interested in potentially renting your guest cabin for four weeks. The place looks lovely but I wanted to ask if there are any issues I should be aware of since the price is so much more reasonable than other listings on this site.”

You were hoping there were no gimmicks, you’ve heard horror stories before, and with no reviews, you wanted to do your due diligence.

After you send the chat, you step away to make a quick dinner, chicken and ramen, comfy and warm, before you settle back onto the couch to watch your favorite reality show. You’re about to press play when you notice a response in your inbox.

“Hi there. Totally understand your concern. I just put the listing up today and am offering a discounted rate for the first few renters to help get traffic to our rental and start getting reviews. Let me know if you have any questions.” You shrug at the perfectly reasonable response and you click on the circular picture of the brunette next to the message, opening the owner’s profile.

LISA BRAEDEN (Host)

0 Reviews | 1 Month Renting

Lisa’s confirmed information

Identity ✓

Email address ✓

Phone number✓

Proud wife and owner of a unique property. I am a certified yoga instructor and have been teaching and practicing for over 15 years. I love a good glass of wine, a well-cooked meal, and traveling to new places.

You stare at the picture of the smiling, long-haired, tanned brunette. She’s absolutely beautiful. Probably a few years older than you and seems down to earth in a regular tshirt.

Honestly, considering you were out of a job, the discounted price would really come in handy. Then you wouldn’t feel so guilty taking a full month off before you started your job hunt.

You click back to the rental’s profile and put in your dates. You take a deep breath before clicking RESERVE and putting in your payment details. Your rental has been confirmed. The message pops up. With a thousand-watt smile, you shut your laptop and settle into your couch. In just a few days, you would be on your way to a new beginning.

Keep Reading

A/N: Fun fact, the first half of this was inspired by true events. Sadly, I didn't quit on the spot, but I did shortly after with a 10x better job.

And know we didn't get to see Dean yet, but I promise he will be in the next chapter!

Anywho, stealing this from the lovely @zepskies

NEXT TIME:

“I’m calling the cops!” She shouts, her phone in hand, music blaring from the speaker as her fingers are ready to press the three numbers as she stares at him with fear in her Y/C/E eyes.

“Take it easy,” Dean holds his hands up, and the woman looks like she’s going to have a heart attack as she notices the gun in his right hand. Realizing his mistake, he quickly tucks it away into his waistband and holds his empty hands out to her, wanting her to know he’s not a threat.

“First off,” Dean holds up a finger at her. “If anyone should be calling the cops, it’s me.” He points back to himself. “Secondly, what are you doing in my house?”

“Your house?” Her voice drips with confusion as her brow furrows.

“Yes my house.” He echoes, emphasizing his ownership. She continues to frown.

“Well if it’s your house, you would know I’m renting your guest house for the next four weeks.” She crosses her arms defiantly, confusion and fear gone as she challenges him.

“What are you talking about?” Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused. He’s never rented the guest house out, nor would he ever.

Tag List

Forever

@iprobablyshipit91 @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213

TGH

@suckitands33 @deans-baby-momma @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @spnbaby-67 @jackles010378 @itsdesiree86 @becca-rebel38

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean imagine #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester fic #the guest house

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lucidlivi · 1 year ago

Text

Chosen For Pleasure (XIV)

Series Masterlist/Warnings

Tag List: @ladysparkles78 @suckitands33 @little-x-wolf @stoneyggirl2 @creative-writing92 @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @lessons-of-red @jamerlynn @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67 @deans-baby-momma @willow-sages @ritz-hell-hotel @perpetualabsurdity @mhessellund @itzabbyxx @chriszgirl92 @abbybarnesstuff @larrem88 @commonsenseishard @impalaspixie @notsogoofyjelly @hzllxhoundxx @taylortots-world @k-slla @heavenlyackles @spnfamily-j2 @buckybarnes-1917 @foxyjwls007 @spnbaby-67 @readingsins @lauraashley93 @antisocialcorrupt @anixiiee @jackles010378 @alternativeprincess @rosecentury @lelilw1 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @djs8891 @bakugouswh0r3 (thank you to everyone who's been here since the beginning, thank you for always hyping me up and for loving this story! If you want to be added please let me know! It's only going to be a few more parts, so get in while you can!)

I hid a quote in here from one of my favorite tv shows, besides supernatural of course... see if you can catch it! If you can, let's be best friends!

gun violence and mental illness talk at the end of this chapter, please read with caution if it is triggering to you in any way.... if you are struggling with mental health, please reach out! I love you and I'm happy you're here!

"is this really necessary?" I asked Jensen, my eyes befalling the large man in a suit standing next to him.

"yes, until they catch Riley, I'm not risking your safety... besides Mark's a professional, he knows how to be discreet, you won't even know he's around." Jensen said kissing my cheek.

I highly doubt that.

A big burley security man following my every movement.... yeah they'll never see him coming.

I sighed deeply, knowing I'd never be able to talk Jensen out of it.

I stood on my tippy toes connecting his lips with mine. It was a short brief kiss, but it was all I needed to get my heart racing.

"I should go, don't want to be late for my first day as Chief Editor." I said leaning in to Jensen's warm embrace.

"I'll pick you up after work, we have some things to discuss."

"things to discuss, what sort of things?"

"you never answered my question." Jensen smirks knowingly before departing.

It's been a hectic few days, my mind has been on overload. I'm lucky I even remembered to put pants on today. Of course I haven't been able to think about Jensen's proposition of moving in with him yet. I definitely needed to talk to Stella first.

"Mark." I said nodding my head at the tall man.

Mark starts to follow me in to the building quietly.

"who's the big dude?" Stella says as soon as we get inside.

I let out a sigh, so much for being discreet.

I roll my eyes as my coworkers glance at Mark, who's right on my tail.

"Mark.." I answer shrugging my shoulders.

I walked past everyone, going to my new office. I was surprised to see it was completely different than the last time I had been in here.

"I uh redecorated, I thought it would help ya know, so you didn't think about it." Stella said from the doorway.

I looked around the spacious office, every trace of Gray had been erased.

"I love you Stell." I said, a tear in my eye.

I engulfed my best friend in a hug. We stood in each other’s embrace, smiling.

"Sooo do I have to call you Ms. (L/N) now?"

"Oh god please don’t!" I laughed.

I took a deep breath, a comfortable silence fell between us.

"this is crazy right, I mean your life has done a complete three sixty."

I let Stella's words sink in, she was completely right. A few months ago if you'd told me this would be my life, I would've laughed in your face.

"it totally has... sometimes I don't even know how to keep up." I admitted glancing at Mark who stood outside my office like a soldier.

"okay what's up with Mark?" Stella giggled looking at the large man.

"I'm afraid Jensen insists, just until they catch Riley."

"ah yes, the crazy."

"Stella, she's not crazy, she's mentally ill."

I could see Stella noticeably roll her eyes.

"why are you defending her, she literally wants to hurt you (y/n/n)!"

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously as her words sunk in.

I didn't know what Riley's intentions were, but from the damage done to my car, I gathered that we wouldn't be talking over a cup of coffee anytime soon.

"I’m sorry, I know things have been crazy for you, and I just want you to know that I'm here, to listen, to talk, to eat our feelings away with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream... whatever you need." Stella said giving me a warm smile.

"Jensen asked me to move in with him." I blurted out, the thought weighing heavily on my mind.

"oh my gosh, that's great!" Stella squealed.

"it is?" I question, surprised by her reaction.

"it is if that's what you want?" Stella questions.

I look at the pretty brunette sitting in front of me. I didn't know what I did to deserve her friendship some days.

"I really love him Stella." I whispered.

"then you should do it."

"but I'll miss you.."

"please, you can't get rid of me that easily.."

I engulfed my friend in another hug, squeezing her tightly.

"am I interrupting something?"

I let go of Stella to see David, the owner of the magazine standing in the doorway.

"no, I’m sorry sir." I said smiling.

"just wanted to see how you were settling in, and ask if you made any progress on finding me some new voices?"

I smiled widely at Stella.

"yes sir, in fact this is one right here! Stella is the best journalist we have." I said pushing Stella forward.

Stella nervously smiled at him.

"Stella is it, well why don't we go have a talk then?" David said reaching out a hand for her to shake.

I beamed with pride as I watched them leave the office to settle in the conference room.

I could never repay Stella for how much she does for me, but this was a start.

I heard the office phone start to ring, snapping me out of my daze.

"Ms. (L/N)" I answered.

I heard Jensen chuckle on the other end.

"Ms. (L/N), sounds incredibly sexy when you say it." Jensen purred.

"oh please, I thought I was going to come undone, the first day you said my name." I shot back.

"I was just calling to see how your first day as chief editor is going?"

I felt the smile grace my face.

"good actually, it's kind of making me nervous.." I said picking my nails.

"why is it making you nervous?"

"have you ever heard the term regression to the mean?"

"no.." Jensen said sounding confused.

“It means that life can’t ever be all bad or all good. You know, eventually, things have to come back to the middle.”

"I'm not understanding baby."

"I mean that everything's been okay lately, you know, we're okay, the jobs okay, Stella and I are okay.. the middle."

"so you mean things are about to get really good.." Jensen started

"or really bad." I finished cutting him off.

"sweetheart I think this whole Riley thing has you worked up, everything will be fine, okay, nothing is going to happen." Jensen reassured.

He was probably right. I mean this whole Riley situation did have me pretty worked up.

I just felt it was something more though, like there was something looming over us and I just couldn't figure out what it was.

It could've been my conversation with Elle too. I couldn't get her words out of my head... I just want to know who my competition is.

What did that even mean?

Was she going to try to steal Jensen away from me?

I guess it would be steal Jensen back, considering she had him first.

I didn't realize how quiet I was until I heard Jensen's smooth voice through the speaker.

"baby talk to me, what's going through your mind?"

"I think you're right, I'm just a little overwhelmed, I guess Mark wasn't such a bad thing." I said staring at the man who hasn't moved from the entrance of my office.

"see I told you..." Jensen said in a teasing tone.

"I don't have to take him everywhere do I? He's not coming home with me!"

I heard Jensen's hearty laugh boom through the speaker.

"he's definitely NOT going home with you.. he's just for when I can't be with you to protect you."

"my hero.." I swooned.

Jensen laughed again.

"I miss you already." I whispered.

"oh god I sound so needy." I added quickly.

"I miss you too.."

"so I uh talked to Stella about your proposition." I said biting my thumb nail.

"oh yeah? and how did that go?"

"good.." I answered being vague in my answer purposely.

"and do you have an answer for me?"

"yeah..." I whispered not being able to fight the smile on my face.

"well get on with it then, c'mon woman you're killing me here." Jensen whined.

"I mean, I'll have to get some things from the apartment." I said.

"so that's a yes?"

"yes Jensen, I'll move in with you."

****************************************************

"Are you going home? I'm going to grab some things and stay at Jensen's tonight." I told Stella as we gathered our things, the end of our day approaching.

"No, Matt's taking me out to dinner to celebrate my new promotion, thanks for that by the way! I can't believe I'm the new lead journalist!" Stella squealed making me smile.

"I didn't do anything, that was all you."

"Still, I couldn't have gotten it without you putting in a word to David for me."

"It's the least I could do, you do so much for me."

Stella wrapped her arms around me squeezing me tightly for the third time this day.

I've been so caught up in all things Jensen that I realized I really missed my friend, and I was so lucky to have her in my corner.

"woah, that's my woman."

Stella let go, throwing a look to Jensen who now stood in the doorway to my office. I didn’t see Mark anymore, Jensen must have dismissed him.

"nice office..." Jensen admired.

"I redecorated, thank you very much." Stella piped up.

"so when I need any redecorating done, I'll know who to call." Jensen smirked.

Stella glanced at her phone quickly before meeting my eyes again.

"I think Matt's here, I'll see you soon.." Stella said squeezing my hand before going over to Jensen.

"Jensen, take care of her... if you don't I'll chop your dick off." Stella threatened.

"Stella!" I exclaimed mortified.

Jensen just laughed in response.

"You have my word Stella, I mean I would kind of like to keep my dick." Jensen said making me roll my eyes at the pair.

"see you tomorrow." Stella said with a final wave.

Jensen smiled at her shaking his head. He came over to me wrapping me in a hug.

“she’s something..” Jensen laughed.

“you have no idea… are you ready to go home?” I asked cocking my eyebrow.

“as long as I’m with you I am home.” Jensen said.

I rolled my eyes at his line.

“that was incredibly cheesy.” I laughed.

“I thought it was romantic… even a little bit?” Jensen pouted.

“okay just a little bit.”

Jensen smiled, leaning down to pull me in for a kiss. I took a shaky breath as he connected our lips. I felt electricity pulsating through my skin as his lips moved on mine.

“I love you.” He said as he pulled away.

“I love you more.” I whispered.

Jensen gave me another quick peck.

“Impossible.”

Jensen grabbed my bag with one hand, grasping mine with other, as he led us out of the office. Cole stood by the car waiting with an open door.

“Ms. (L/N).” Cole nodded as I slid in.

“You really need to give him a break..” I said laughing at Jensen.

“Cole doesn’t need a break, do ya Cole?”

“no Mr. Ackles.”

“Cole you can be honest I know this one’s a lot to deal with.” I said smacking Jensen’s chest playfully.

“between you and me ma’am.” Cole started giving Jensen a smirk.

I laughed at Jensen’s flustered expression.

Cole pulled up to our apartment, quickly getting out so he could open my door. Jensen shuffled out after me. As soon as we stepped out of the car, his phone started ringing. He pulled it out checking the caller ID.

“It’s Jared.”

“you can take it.. I’m just going to grab some toiletries and a couple outfits, I’ll be right back.” I said kissing his cheek.

Jensen offered me a grateful smile as he answered his phone.

I unlocked the door, before grabbing our mail and going inside. I would have to remember to reroute my mail to the new address. I threw the mail on the counter, wanting to pack my things before I went through it.

I grabbed my overnight bag throwing articles of clothing in it before going to our bathroom. I made sure to grab my toothbrush, hairbrush and the other essentials. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror breathing a deep sigh.

I was really doing this.

I threw the rest of my stuff in my bag, zipping it up and walking back in to the kitchen. I set my bag down grabbing the mail to sift through it.

I turned around, feeling my blood run cold.

It was her.

Riley.

I gasped at the sight of her dropping the mail.

I didn’t know how she got in, the door was still locked.

I could see from the look on her face that she was distressed. I was afraid, but I wouldn’t let her see. I needed to remain calm.

“Riley… uh Jensen’s right outside, we could go see him.” I hesitantly said, holding my hands out so she could see I meant her no harm.

I shuddered as she pulled a gun from her pocket.

“I came to see you.”

I shivered, her voice was haunting, like she was in grave pain. I didn’t take my eyes off the gun she held to her side.

“okay..” I breathed.

“Jensen told me what happened Riley, I know you’re in a lot of pain, and I’m so sorry.. Jensen talks about you still, he cares about you.” I said trying to diffuse the situation.

I flinched as a warning shot rang out. I could feel the breath getting caught in my chest as I feared for my life.

“DON’T LIE!” Riley yelled, bringing the gun up so it was now pointed directly at me.

“just tell me what you have that I don’t.” she cried.

“nothing Riley, I’m nothing.” I pleaded.

“but he kisses you, and sleeps in your bed.” Riley said.

I felt the color drain from my face.

“how do you know that?”

“I saw you, I watched you… I know you love him but I do too.” Riley said eerily calm.

I thought back to the night when Jensen slept over. I thought I had seen someone but chalked it up to my imagination playing tricks on me… but now I know it was her watching us.

“Riley why don’t you put the gun down.” I begged trying to maintain my composure.

“you don’t even know him, what he likes, you don’t give him what he wants, he’s just pretending with you and he’ll get tired of pretending!” Riley growled.

Suddenly Jensen burst in the door followed by Cole.

Riley didn’t move the gun from me.

I could see the fear in Jensen’s eyes as he glanced at me.

“Riley..”

Jensen pointed at himself, asking Riley to turn the gun on him. Riley glanced between me and Jensen before turning the gun his way.

“Jensen don’t.” I cried, letting a few tears slip out.

Jensen held his hand out quieting me.

“I know you don’t want to hurt me Riley.” Jensen said, taking a step closer to her.

Riley breathed a heavy sigh as Jensen reached out wrapping his hand around the barrel of the gun. He yanked it out of her hands, switching the safety on, and putting it in his pocket.

“come here.” Jensen said reaching his arms out.

Riley collapsed in his arms crying. Jensen held her stroking her hair.

“Cole get (y/n) out of here, take her back home.” Jensen said.

Cole took a step towards me, but I took a step back.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I said not wanting to leave Jensen alone.

“(y/n) for once just do what I ask!” Jensen snapped.

I felt the tears roll down my cheeks as I grabbed Cole’s hand allowing him to lead me outside to the car. He opened the door gesturing for me to get in.

I dropped his hand stepping away from the car. I gave Cole a look, and started to walk down the street.

“Ms. (L/N) please.”

“stop it Cole.” I growled walking away.

I didn’t know where I was going, I just had to get away. I felt the tears staining my cheeks as I walked.

It was too much.

It was all too much.

for once just do what I ask..

he’s just pretending with you, and he’ll get tired of pretending..

I covered my ears trying to drown out the loud voices that were screaming at me.

I collapsed on the sidewalk, bringing my knees to my chest and sobbing.

this is what I meant.

regression to the mean..

Author Note:

I’m sorry for breaking your hearts again! Part fifteen will reveal a lot, so make sure you stick around to find out! If you liked this part please indicate so with a heart, comment, reblog, or a follow! It really is motivating! I appreciate you all!

xoxoxo

Liv

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles preference #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles smut #supernatural #supernatural smut #jensen x you #spn #dean winchester x you #jensen ackles fic

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myjunkisyuzuruhanyu · 8 months ago

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ISU released an article about Shoma

Two-time ISU World Champion and three-time Olympic medalist Shoma Uno of Japan has announced his retirement from competitive skating after a long and distinguished career and is ready to open a new chapter in his life.

“I have decided to retire from active competition,” Uno wrote on Instagram. “I am very grateful to have been able to continue skating for 21 years since I was 5 years old, and to have had a wonderful athletic life.”

The Japanese star will talk in more detail about his retirement and future plans in a press conference scheduled for May 14.

The 26-year-old looks back at a career with many highlights and also difficult times, but he always came back, proving his talent and showing resilience. When five-year-old Shoma went to the ice rink in his hometown of Nagoya with his father to have fun, he had no idea that he would become a World Champion, Olympic medalist and super star of the sport. He only knew that the enjoyed skating and kept coming back to the rink, taking lessons. He trained with Machiko Yamada, the coach of Japanese skating icon Midori Ito and also with Mihoko Higuchi for many years and worked his way up in the skating world.

Uno debuted in the ISU Junior Grand Prix in 2011 and was so tiny that he was unable to look over the boards. He won a few medals on the Junior circuit but his breakthrough came in what was his last Junior season in 2014/15 when he qualified for the first time for the ISU Junior Grand Prix Final where he claimed gold. Shoma went on to take the ISU World Junior title in 2015, in what was his fourth and final appearance at the event (climbing from 10th in 2012, 7th in 2013 and 5th in 2014).

Once at the senior level, Uno quickly became one of the top Skaters in the World. In his World debut in 2016 he placed 7th but then the next year won silver, his first of a total of four World medals. In his first Olympic Winter Games in 2018, Shoma skated off with the silver medal and returned on to the Olympic podium four years later, earning the bronze. In 2022 and 2023 Uno crowned himself ISU World Champion.

However, in between there was a time of struggle. In the 2019/20 season, for the first (and only) time in his career, Uno finished off the podium in the ISU Grand Prix Series. He had left his coaches since childhood and struggled with confidence.

“At first, to be honest, I was thinking about finishing my career,“ he said in an interview at Skate America 2021 about this time.

“I did not know how much longer I would keep going. But imaging the end (I thought) maybe I'll enjoy the rest of this career as an athlete.“

Uno started to work with two-time World Champion Stéphane Lambiel as his coach and choreographer in fall 2019 and soon came back strong. He grew as an athlete and a performer with beautiful programs that highlighted his versatility: “Turandot” (Free Skating 2017/18), “Great Spirit” (Short Program 2020/21), “Bolero” (Free Skating 2021/22) and “Spiegel im Spiegel” (Free Skating 2023/24) to name a few.

At the same time, the Japanese star always pushed the limits technically and made history by becoming the first Skater to perform a quadruple flip in competition in 2016.

“When I train and want to become better, it's not good for me to work on what I can already do. If I'm satisfied with just giving 80 per cent, I'm not good. The right training for me is to push my limits,” Uno said in an interview.

The Japanese Skater has an independent mind and a fun personality. He has a Youtube Channel where you can meet his three toy poodles Emma, Baron and Toro.

“When I am on the ice, I am totally focused on my sport, but when I'm off the ice, I am sure most people know I am just a lazy slacker, but I thought that would be a good way to show to the people how I am off the ice, but still this is Shoma Uno,” he explained.

When asked who inspires him the most, Shoma’s surprising answer was:

"Myself. Of course, I think I am inspired by many people and heard some good words from everyone, too, but in the end when you break it down, I do feel that it is myself that inspires me and sadly, I don't listen to anyone. Sometimes I listen, but mostly I go with my own mind,” he added.

For sure Uno will follow his own ideas in the years to come but you can certainly expect to see him gracing the ice in shows for a while.

#shoma uno #figure skating #isu #happy retirement shoma #it's a nice article that I think sums up Shoma's career pretty well #also adding links to his Insta and Youtube is a good move as I still think both acc are quite unknown among non-Shoma fans

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armpirate · 6 months ago

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Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 22

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 23 minutes

Chapter warnings: Smut, inexperienced!San, oral sex (female receiving), male masturbation, dirty talk

San looked for any chance he could use to catch both Mingi or Wooyoung by themselves to have that conversation he didn't really want to have, but needed to. But every time he had the chance, either because one of them was out meeting up with friends, or working, San took a few steps back and ate those words before they were able to form in his throat.

First it was Mingi. He was all alone watching TV, with his feet resting on the coffee table -after he had told him several times not to place them there. The remote was resting against his lips while he held it from the bottom, concentrating on how pencils were made. Before speaking up, San tried to plan what he was going to say, and how he was going to say it so his friend would take it as a serious topic, and not as a joke.

—Can I speak to you about something?

—Sure —he answered, without moving his eyes from the TV—. If it's about the leftovers in the fridge, I can still eat it. So I'll eat it soon, just have patience.

—It's not about that —San assured him—. It's something else.

—Oh —his attention quickly shifted to San—, what is it, then?

How could he even form that question?

—Let's imagine you've never cooked in your life, right? And a friend comes and joins you in the kitchen —he tried to explain—. This friend is really good at cooking, so it adds a lot of pressure, right? A lot of pressure... —he continued— You don't want to make a mess, but you also don't want to sit and watch how the other cooks, because you want the other to enjoy food to the same level you will enjoy it.

Mingi's glare was blank for a whole minute, with his eyebrows shortly furrowing at the edges, before his mouth opened wide. At first, San thought that his friend got the memo of what he was trying to ask, but it only took him to speak to let him know he didn't catch a single hint.

—Is this about Wooyoung? Did he complain because I don't cook? —Mingi quickly reacted— I cooked three days ago. It was your turn, and today he had to cook. But we ordered something instead. So, technically, he's the one that should cook tomorrow. He always does the same thing.

Before San could even deny his assumptions, Mingi stood up from his place, placing the remote roughly on the coffee table to walk to his room and close the door behind him.

He sat there, staring at the white door that had just been closed in front of him, regretting the moment he decided to come up with that example. He should've gone straight to the point...

His head was thrown back, and his sigh was heavy when he had a headache looking for Wooyoung in his chats, just to notice a strange person called "Pocketful of Sunshine" right under Y/n's chat. He needed to stop doing that.

San: Where are you?

San: and for the record, stop changing your name on my phone

It took Wooyoung just two minutes to reply to his text with a kissy emoji; he loved using those whenever he had the chance.

Wooyoung: I'm at the cafe near my building

Wooyoung: You know that one with the disgusting coffee?

San flinched just at the reminisce of the taste. It was indeed disgusting, so he just couldn't understand why Wooyoung kept going there.

Wooyoung: There is a cute boy

Wooyoung: I'm three americanos away from getting his number

Wooyoung: What do you want?

San: Nothing, it's alright

Was his issue as urgent for him to show up where he was?

He had been able to wait for a few days, while he fought all his insecurities and tried to come up with the best way to introduce the issue. Only for it to fail as soon as he opened his mouth. It wasn't urgent, but he was sure he wanted to have it all sorted out next time he saw Y/n. The last few days they had been texting, with their flirting getting over the roof, and only stopping at the highest level because Y/n was still on her period. And they hadn't been able to meet up because she was busy with work, although they both still made up time to see each other if it was only for a few minutes.

One kiss, and he was completely served for the rest of the week. Yet, at the same time, her lips were so addictive that he couldn't stop coming up with excuses to meet her up with the badge she prepared for him. And Y/n also escaped a few times to his college just to have lunch or breakfast with him.

He wanted the next time they had a proper alone time, it was mind-blowing for her. Everything he couldn't do the last time.

He didn't know when it was going to be the last time he was going to be able to meet either Mingi or Wooyoung alone, without both of them being stuck with one another like they usually were. He just couldn't miss that chance.

He probably would have enough with fifteen minutes.

Wooyoung's workplace wasn't far from the apartment they all shared, which was one of the main reasons they chose that place. He was the first one to graduate and find a stable job, so he was the one who had bigger priority when choosing where to live.

When he crossed the corner to the establishment, able to peek through the glass, he could spot his friend smirking at, probably, the boy he was talking about in his texts. His smile was wide, and his hand waved in the air, making it clear he was there in case his friend hadn't been aware of him -which was difficult, his friend's style always made him stand out among the crowd.

—San? —Wooyoung asked with a smile— What are you doing here?

—I need to speak to you, and it'll be quick. I promise —he assured him, taking the free spot in front of him—. It's about Y/n.

—What did you do now?

—That's exactly the problem: what I don't do —San tried to start—. In my head, it all plays out perfectly, but once I have to take it to action, I turn clumsy, and stupid, and useless.

—Well, I think Y/n is accepting you with all your flaws. That girl is so into you, she doesn't care about how indecisive you are —Wooyoung shrugged—. It's like when you acted as if kissing her was something bad.

—Okay, but this problem is bigger. I mean... —his tongue clicked while he tried to think— I don't want to disappoint her. She's so perfect, and so amazing... I don't want her to be forced to go at my pace always. I want to be able to adapt to hers as well.

Wooyoung's face distorted with every word his friend said, trying to understand what he exactly meant by speeding up things in their relationship.

—San, isn't it a bit early? I doubt she's thinking about that.

—I know, but I'm sure she'll start thinking about it soon, to take the next step —he assured him—. And I want to know how to do things when it's time.

—Dude, it's impossible to know how to do things, it's even difficult to know when it's time. It's something you'll know only when you do it.

—I know, but I want to be ready when the time comes, you know? —he tried to explain— I want her to feel like she's with a man, and not with a boy she needs to guide by hand on everything he does.

—I understand —Wooyoung lied—. But marriage is one hell of a serious thing, and you have been dating not even for two months.

—Marriage? Wait.

—And I doubt Y/n is thinking about marriage —Wooyoung continued—. I know you're a romantic and such, but if you go to her with this, she'll run away. And I won't be able to defend you, because she'll be right.

—Wooyoung...

—I get you're in love, but isn't it a bit too early to think about that as something more than just a fantasy? San, dude, relax. It'll come...

—It's not about marriage, it's about sex, you dumbass —San interrupted him—. What, of everything I said, made you link it with marriage, huh? And it's not that I don't want to marry her, I don't know. I certainly don't see myself with anyone else that isn't her, but marriage isn't in my head at the moment.

—San —Wooyoung tried to interrupt him, when he saw the way his rant kept escalating.

—I have several problems, like not being able to satisfy her because I just don't know how to do it out of the theory —Wooyoung's expression changed, but San was so deep in the rant that he was unaware—. I haven't had a single experience in sex, not one. And she deserves me being at her level, but I don't know how to.

—Why don't you ask her?

Wooyoung's interruption made San's head tilt, while one of the corners of his lip lifted in confusion with the comment. His friend shyly point behind him, and that was when he knew he fucked it up big time.

Y/n had her eyebrows slightly raised, her lips were softly pressed, making obvious the smile she was holding back. When he looked back at the table, he could finally spot the second drink near the fall empty americano glass, which still had a bit of coffee in it.

—Why didn't you tell me she was here?

—I did —Wooyoung assured him.

When he lifted the phone, he could see the two messages in the middle of his explanation of why he was at that cafe.

Wooyoung: Also, I'm with Y/n!! We're working on the event she told me about.

His blood didn't abandon his system because it couldn't, but he could feel liters and liters of it falling to his feet when he realized it did show up on his phone, too. He was just too rushed to talk with him that he completely omitted the most important ones.

—I can explain this —San turned to Y/n.

—Well, I'm done. So I'll just leave you two alone —Wooyounng informed them, getting up from his seat while still looking at his phone—. By the way, do you know why Mingi is telling me to cook tomorrow?

San was about to speak, but his brain was too exhausted and concerned at the problem that was coming his way, rather than the little bickering he had caused. Instead of insisting, Wooyoung hugged Y/n, walking in the same direction San came in to leave.

—Let's go —Y/n whispered, securing the trap of her bag on her shoulder.

She paid for her coffee, and didn't say a single word until they got in her car. That silence was making him feel like he did something wrong, even if her hand reached to his forearm to give him a soft touch while she drove. Her car didn't even enter the street to his building, it didn't get close, which was the first thing that surprised him. He expected her to drop him off, after having a serious chat in her car. Instead, Y/n drove to her apartment, guiding him to a place where he knew how to go to already.

Far from being annoyed, she felt upset. Not because he reached his friends for advice, but because he didn't reach for her when it was something that involved her. At the same time, she understood his position and why he didn't feel like discussing it with her that way. He kept adding pressure on himself, a pressure that he didn't need to suffer. San didn't need to be so demanding with himself to impress her, because he already did every day.

—I'm sorry about earlier —he finally spoke.

—What are you sorry about? —she asked, resting her lower back on the backrest of her couch.

—About talking about that with Wooyoung.

—San, you don't need to apologize for that. He's your best friend, and it's obvious you'll go to him or any of the boys when you need advice —she tried to explain—. You weren't being disrespectful, you didn't have ill intentions with that. And I appreciate what you wanted to do, but I'm here to work with you on whatever you need —the folds of her shirt got deeper when her arms crossed over her chest.

His hands poked inside the pockets of his trousers, while hesitated to walk down the two steps to her living room and be closer to her.

—I just don't want you to think you have to be guiding me all the time.

—But if you don't know, who's supposed to guide you? I won't like you any less because you don't know when it's the time to hold my hand, or to touch me unprovoked. And even less because you don't know how to twirl your tongue or move your hips. You have much more to offer than just that —his eyes shined at that sentence—. What scares you so much?

—The other day, you didn't even think of the possibility of me returning you the favor, and I thought that maybe it was because you didn't want to waste time teaching me. I don't want to disappoint you.

—The other day I was on my period. Even if you had known how to do it, I wouldn't have liked you going down because I wouldn't be comfortable. I already explained to you how sex works, how it should work between us. And, honestly, I want to teach you. How many women can say they have a man willing to learn and follow all of their instructions to please them? —she chuckled, trying to break the tension between them.

San stepped in her direction when her arms were lifted up in the air, open and welcoming for him.

—I don't want you to go at my pace —she reminded his words the previous week—. With pressure... it isn't the way to do things, because you won't be comfortable. You won't disappoint me because you aren't ready, or because you don't do things right at first. But I need you to speak to me first —her fingerprints played with the edges of his black t-shirt—. Before you reach conclusions or stress out, let me try to calm you down.

It made no sense to get mad at him for his doubts and insecurities. She had been there, she had lived all those doubts and feelings with her first boyfriend. The only thing she could do to help him was add all her learned lessons, so he wouldn't be going through all those bad experiences. If she could avoid it, she wanted San to avoid the pain and negative feelings that went along with inexperience and a bad partner.

Her hands pulled him closer for a hug, hiding her head in his chest, while his arms wrapped around her body.

—Alright —he nodded, finally feeling how his heart went back to a normal speed in his chest—. I do want to do it though. I want to taste you on my tongue, feel the way your thighs tremble around my head, I want to pleasure you so good that you'd stick me against you so I can't move away...

His voice sounded deep against her ear, with a suggestive tone that almost made her knees go weak just by hearing it alone. She got so used to see him in his sweet and gentle persona that she entirely forgot he was Soundleasure, the same man that had her back arching and her core aching just with his voice.

The pumping of her heart was so hard after that that San was able to feel it trying to escape through his rib cage.

Y/n barely had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his lips, due to the heels she was already wearing, to trap his lower lip in between her teeth, pulling from it gently, careful not to hurt him. Before she could move back, desperation got the best of him, trapping her neck in his fingers to pull her back for a kiss.

Leadership took over him, because San knew that was the only part he could lead her in before he started looking like a lost puppy. His hands moved to her waist, pushing her closer and involuntarily forcing her arms up around his neck. While her tongue tried to follow the spirals he was creating, her hands moved down to his wrists. His fingerprints went from touching the thin fabric of her white blouse to the rough leather of her belt until he was tracing the curve to her ass. Her arms were once again wrapped around his neck when San dented his fingers on her skin over her linen pants.

With the intensity his head turned and how hard she sucked on his lips and his tongue, his fingers squeezed tighter her skin, pushing her closer -if that was even possible at that point- and forcing her to stand on her tiptoes to keep up with the kiss.

His lips left her hanging for another kiss, moving down her neck with no previous warning. His pecks were flirty, insecure, trying to test that new territory before he tried to mirror what he had seen in videos, and what Y/n had done to him before. The way his lips enclosed around a bit of skin, pinching it lightly with his teeth, made her breathe deeply, instantly moving her hands to place them on his shoulder and his nape. Just the feel of her fingertips playing with the hair on the back of his head created a friction in his brain that pushed him to suck harder on the skin down her jaw.

—Let's go to my room —she suggested, almost choking on air.

Y/n took the brief moment he tried to process her words to hold his hand, leading him upstairs to the upper part of her penthouse.

Anxiety started to build up as they took the last step that led to her room, lighted by the sunlight that was becoming weaker, with more golden tones, with each passing minute. Words got stuck in his throat when she turned to him with a smile.

—What should I do? I should undress you, right?

She was endeared by how shy he looked all of a sudden, giving him a soft peck on the lips to try to relax him.

—Why don't we do something else? You undress yourself, and I undress myself —she suggested—. At least until we're both on our underwear, hmm?

San nodded, just getting glimpses of how she looked completely naked. Although it was obvious the camera of her phone, or her laptop, did her no justice. With every portion of skin that was shown, every button being unbuttoned, every fabric waving on her skin to travel through her body to reach the floor, with every corner exposed to him, he was convinced she was even more perfect in real life.

It took her the last fabric to reach the floor to advance in his direction, cupping his cheek to kiss him slowly, trying to drink up every bit of insecurity so San wouldn't hesitate on trying anything he wanted with her.

His body moved with hers, advancing towards the bed even if he didn't see a thing, only leaving her body to extend his arm towards the mattress, while the other held her by the nape so she'd fall over it carefully.

The first groan found its way through his throat when he felt the warmth of her core against his growing bulge, at the same time her heels caressed the back of his thighs.

—Why don't you take off the rest? And don't hold back. I'll stop you if I don't like something.

It was his time to put his brain to work, getting back all the imagination he was tired of using for his videos, letting Soundleasure kick in and possess him when he needed it the most.

His lips created an invisible trail of kisses from her lips to her cleavage, instantly having her back arching up in response. He was gentle, soft, which created a huge contrast with the type of contact she'd had with other men. The delicacy made her skin burn with every rub, with every centimeter his breath coated.

Just like he did with her neck, his lips sucked on the curve of her breast, while his fingers struggled to find the clasp of her white bra. Her giggle resonated through his lips, while she moved under him to take it off.

The vision, her perky nipples pointing up, sent a straight message to his dick, feeling it twitch inside his boxers before he was encouraged to keep on moving with her kind gaze.

—What? —she smiled, siding her head to be able to look at him better.

—You're so beautiful —he assured, completely mesmerized by the shine in her eyes.

San didn't know what to do next, but he was sure he didn't want her to be bored of him. So, instead of just kissing her body, his flat tongue moved up from her belly button to the space in between her breasts, getting her body to squirm underneath him. But he stopped right where he was supposed to go on, moving his hands in the air, moving his head back and forth as he indecisively tried to get to the way to pleasure her.

Y/n didn't say a word. Her hand reached his, moving it up the curve of her waist until it reached her breast. She guided him to gently massage her breasts, feeling another throb at his dick when her hard nipple pushed against his palm.

Her legs attempted to close when his warm mouth closed around her hard nipple, feeling all the hairs in her body rise at the unconscious contact of his tongue against the button.

—Do that again —she asked—. Use your tongue while you suck it.

A moan burned her throat, coming out as a hum through her closed lips when his slippy tongue started twirling around her nipple while his mouth sucked on it.

She didn't need to tell him, she didn't need to guide him. Theory started working as it should, guiding him while she was slowly melting with his tongue. While his mouth trapped and teased the wet nipple, his thumb and index rubbed and gently pinched the other one, exchanging the buttons just like he had read the main characters of many spicy books doing. And he was glad he did, after her first moan worked as a necessary rub on his ego.

The thin coat of spit on her nipples made them shine under the sunlight, building up a feeling of possession he had never felt before.

Before she could even tell him to go lower on her, he moved. Still spreading kisses all over every bit of skin he came across, hooking his fingers on the elastic of her white panties to slip them down her legs, and almost going dizzy by the subtle smell of arousal coming from her core.

San tried to concentrate on anything else that wasn't how he could clearly see the juices leaking out of her and covering her folds, and how it was all because of him. And Y/n appeased him by placing a hand on his shoulder when his body was unconsciously moving forward.

—Don't go straight at it —she mentioned, supporting the weight of her body on her shoulder so she'd be able to cup his chin with two of her fingers—. Take a while to reach there, kiss my legs, the surroundings... and then, do your magic.

San smirked at her indications, doing exactly what he was told, and adding up eye contact. His eyes looked shy in contradiction of their fierce look, while his lips moved down her inner thigh. Her fingers lightly pulled from the sheets when his lips entered in contact with her labia, coating her crotch with his warm breath as he built her up for the moment.

—Now... —she tried to focus— take a taste. Move your tongue slowly, change it from flat to just using the tip, and don't be shy. And don't focus on the clit, we'll get there later.

Her head instantly threw back when San groaned against her core at the metallic flavor coming out of her, first moving his flat tongue over her slit. She had never felt as exposed as that day, when he parted her folds with two of his fingers, but she loved every bit of it. His licks were short and gentle, focusing on small areas, slowly diving into her entrance but moving up before he could even enter.

—You taste so good —he assured her, holding her knees up to place her thighs on his shoulder.

—Like you imagined?

—Better.

Her smile dropped when San did exactly what she wanted him to do, before she could say it out loud.

Two of his fingers parted her folds, exposing the hood of her clit, so he could push it with his tongue back and forwards. Those movements kept changing from being from side to side to spirals that went from the outside to the inside.

Despite pleasure blinding her, she could still see the way his hips kept humping against her mattress while he found the best way to move her tongue, guided by her gasps and sighs.

—Are you hard? —she struggled to ask with a shaky voice.

—Yeah, but that's not important now.

—Take off your boxers.

—Y/n, I'll deal with it on my own.

—And that's what you're going to do —his eyebrows digged deep in his nose—. Touch yourself while you eat me out.

She tried to control her mouth from salivating when his dick jumped free the moment he moved down his boxers, remembering how good it felt each vein against her tongue, but still respecting his choice of him being the one pleasuring her for the other day.

—Now suck on my clit, doing something similar to what you did on my nipples —she guided him.

She furrowed when he barely gave her time to finish the sentence, before his head was deeply buried in her core, with his lips enclosed around her swollen clit. She wasn't able to control her body after he got on it, moving her fingers through the locks of his hair to motivate him to go on.

And it worked, it felt like an energy boost for him, moving his tongue and his head as if his life depended on how tight her fingers pulled from his hair. Each moan she let out had his dick throbbing and twitching underneath his ecstatic fingers, finding himself thrusting against them unconsciously.

—Please, don't stop —she begged, throwing her head back—. You're doing so good. Please.

That sentence alone had his hand moving in sync with the speed of his tongue, losing the last bits of sanity he had left in his system.

He shouldn't have looked up, because there wasn't anything as sexy and breathtaking as Y/n's being perked up with her back arched up, while her lips were parted to control her shaky and unstable breathing.

All the times he had seen her in that state through a camera, and never it felt that good.

—Make me cum —she cried, thrusting her hips against his tongue to press tighter on his tongue—. Please, make me cum —she moaned again—. San.

The desperation that tinted each one of her words had him twitching and throbbing, losing the rhythm of the movements in his hand, and pausing the ones of his tongue when he couldn't control some of the low moans.

Y/n could feel the vibrations of his own release on his tongue, while he hardly tried to keep up the circles and infinite shapes so she couldn't see her journey to her high paused. And that dedication, that desperation to get her to orgasm while he was struggling with the consequences of his own high, were the little she needed to let herself go as well and ride with him through their respective highs.

Her body was tense for a quick second, only to relax right after, almost feeling like it was mixing with the blankets under her body.

San was satisfied while he looked at her, proud to be the owner of the thin coat of sweat on the valley of her breasts, or the subtle blush on her cheeks. It felt like the biggest privilege he had acquired in his twenty six years alive.

—How was it? —he dared to ask.

—If you're already like this —she took a moment to earn some oxygen back—, I'm afraid of what it'll be like with more experience.

His dimpled deepened in his cheeks when his smile turned wider, trying to hide it behind the thigh that still was on his shoulder.

—You were right, by the way —he added, moving his head again to look at her—: our moans sound really good together —it was topped by a gentle kiss on the knee.

San attempted to move up to hug her, but it was then when he noticed the result of his orgasm on the spot where he was. He froze on the spot, pretending to be hugging her thigh so she wouldn't feel suspicious of it.

—Are you going to stay there? —she giggled.

—It feels good —it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the place he wanted to be at.

—We should clean ourselves.

—You go first —San tried to convince her to go first, so she wouldn't see the mess he made on her blankets.

—Alright —she finally gave in—, but next time you're coming with me.

She felt weirded out when he only moved his head up when she bent to kiss him, but still shrugged it off before walking to her bathroom.

San urgently jumped from the bed as soon as she closed the door, trying to look around for something he could clean the stain with. At least to make it less obvious and dirty.

No papers were on sight, no napkins either, and he obviously wasn't going to use her clothes to clean it up. He picked up his boxers from the floor and cleaned it all, although he only found himself cursing at how the stain kept spreading a bit more.

—I bought you a toothbrush in case you wanted to...

He panicked when he heard her voice so clear, throwing his underwear away, but failing at pointing where to throw them.

—Tell me you weren't doing what I think you were doing —she started, looking up to him.

—I made a bit of a mess when I came —he tried to explain—, and I don't know... I didn't want you to be disgusted.

—Considering we've fantasized about you cumming all over my face, it's a bit difficult to be disgusted over something natural like that —she walked towards him—. And did you seriously use your underwear to clean it up?

—Yeah... I clearly didn't think it through —his lips were pressed together, almost disappearing, while her hands found a place on his waist.

��I was planning on watching a movie, but making the bed and doing the laundry sound way more original —she joked—. Although I don't have boxers, do you think one of my panties will do the work?

—Do we have to get dressed though?

—Oh, look how fast you learn —she mumbled when his lips rubbed against hers—. But don't act like you won't get shy and try to cover yourself every five minutes.

—Yeah, you're right —he scoffed—. I won't wear any underwear. It'll be for a moment, so it won't be a big deal.

—Okay —she nodded—. Before you show off your housewife skills, let's go clean up.

San couldn't understand how he was still afraid of her judging him or running away, when she had shown to be understandable and patient with him. He could only guess that was the exact same reason that scared him: losing someone who had been exactly what he had been waiting for.

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