#but is applicable to winter most definitely

[miiilowo]

days used to last all day. now days last 5 hours. If you're lucky

[goldenchimmy]

Playing The Part

Pairings: Older!Jungkookxfem!Reader

Cw: age-gap, mentions of alcohol, Oral (fem receiving),Sex,pet names

Word count: 6.7K

🚫MINORS DNI🚫

Summary: needing money for college, you come across an ad for a female escort. You didn't expect the person posting the ad to be a rich, older man.

"Having a nice night?" Jungkook asked, his breath warm against your cheek as he leaned into you from behind. His hand gently sliding over the silk of your dress to playfully grab your hip. His fingers light as he swayed with you to the music with his drink occupying the other hand. The party that surrounded the both of you was nothing short of extravagant; The music was low and classy and the other party-goers were swaying and dancing with one another in the large ballroom.

This wasn't where you pictured yourself at all when you answered that ad.

                                                                                          ------

It was early winter and you were in your second year of college when you found out that your funds had run low. Your apartment rent piling up bill by bill and your fridge emptying faster than you intended. College here was expensive as it was and now you were about to be completely homeless. That was when you found an ad online requesting help from a 'Female Escort'. Usually you were the type to avoid situations like this. Ones that involved the words "Female" and "Escort". Most of the time that meant the person behind the ad was a lowlife man looking to exploit women. The worst kind you usually tried to avoid.

But this ad was different. It went into a little more detail than the title proposed. Your eyes scanned across the ad a few times, reading over the bold electronic words:

SEEKING FEMALE ESCORT

For safety purposes, I will be unnamed until the applicant reaches out to me.

I am seeking a female (age 20 to 27) who will accompany me to a few business outings. No sexual acts or public displays of affection are required to apply. I can assure you I'm not here for that. This will be a week long event and the applicant will be required to accompany myself to all events of the following week.

If she were to accept, I will pay a generous sum of money in return for her help. Seeking ASAP.

If interested, you can reach me at my business number: (xxx) - xxx -xxxx

You don't know how many times exactly that you read over the ad. Hell, you had even slept on it a couple times. But the deadline was soon and you were getting desperate. So, you grabbed your phone from off your nightstand, your fingers nervously typing against the screen as you entered the number from the ad into your phone. You had no idea what you were going to even say!

"Hey, this is a desperate woman needing money"

"I need money, I'm the girl. Pick me"

You huffed a laugh at that and shook your head. That sounded too needy and snobbish. And you definitely weren't either of those things. Eventually, you decided on a more simple approach. Even though you were nervous and your heart was beating hard against your rib cage, you tried to calm yourself as you sent the message:

'Hello, I'm interested in the ad you posted the other day.'

You waited. And waited. And waited...

Eventually you had fallen sound asleep in your bed, your phone laying on your slow rising chest, and it was still there in the morning when you rose. You were groggy as you sat up, your mouth tasting weird as you wiped the drool from your lips. Then your phone chimed and you were startled a bit as you looked at the open message screen.

Your eyes went wide as you read over the message reply from last night.

'Hello. Thank you for reaching out to me. Are you able to meet around noon today? I know that's forward but I'm crunched for time.'

Today? He wanted to meet you today?! That was a bit quick, but you shrugged it off. As you got ready for the day, you debated on even answering him. Maybe you were regretting this decision. But as you walked down the small hallway to your kitchen, your eyes caught the pile of envelopes on the dining table. Big red letters labeled "PAST DUE" marking the white parchment. That's when you took your phone and typed a reply back, your mind made up.

'Yes. I'm able to meet. Where?' you messaged, moving to the window overlooking the dirty, dimly-lit streets of downtown. It was still pretty early in the morning and you didn't have class today, so what else were you going to do? Nothing like meeting a perfect stranger to begin the day. You could only hope that you weren't getting kidnapped by this mystery man.

When noon rolled around, you found yourself sitting in a little street corner cafe. A small cup of tea on the table as you stared out the window. Watching as the people passed by. Inside the Cafe, you were mainly the only one sitting down. Other people taking their orders to go and rushing off to work.

You went to look at your phone then, passing the time by scrolling through posts and videos from friends. The quick chime of the bell above the corner of the door barely registered in your head as the time hit noon, and out of the corner of your eye you saw a pair of neat, slick shoes step over to you. "Hello." came a soft, smooth voice. And when your eyes met ones of brown, you could have sworn all the air left your lungs. This man standing above you was nothing short of the most handsome person you had ever seen.

"Uh-I-Hello..." you stammered, blushing faintly as you watched him take a seat across from you. He crossed his legs slowly, resting his hands together on the table as he watched you squirm a bit. "You-must be from the ad then?" You asked softly, meeting his gaze as you put your phone away. The man only nodded once, a small smile on his face. "My names Jeon Jungkook. I understand you're a bit nervous, but I promise you no harm." he smiled, flashing a row of platinum white teeth. He looked like a movie star.

"Uh, nice to meet you." you whispered, sipping your cup of tea that had grown cold. "You're right on time." you noted, the clock on the wall across the room striking noon. Faint jazz filled the air as Jungkook nodded. "I tend to keep a tight schedule. Its really thanks to my job." He chuckled, running a tattooed hand through his black locs. "Your job?" you asked quietly, biting your lip a bit as you tried making out what the ink read on his knuckles.

He moved them before you could as he grabbed the menu that was laying on the table, flipping through it quickly as a waitress came over to take his order. While you waited patiently for him, you gazed at him again. He was dressed in a finely tailored suit, a black tie resting on his broad chest. A silver watch on his left hand as he ordered what he wanted to the waitress who was busy flirting with him.

Jungkook had faint streaks of gray in his hair, suggesting that his age was older than yours by a few years. The laugh lines near his moving lips also another tell that he was well out of his twenties unlike yourself. You were only twenty-two. This man looked like he was well over 30. Maybe thirty-five or forty? You didn't ask, figuring it was a rude question to start out with as the waitress scurried away with his order. His attention turned back solely on you. His big doe eyes studying your face carefully before he cleared his throat, snapping you out of your deep thoughts.

"So, my job...", he started, smiling a bit. The ring in his lip moving as he did so. "I'm a CEO. I assume you've heard of Jeon Interprises? We are a start-up tech industry." He hummed, waiting for your reaction. The whites of your eyes showed slightly as they widened, nodding your head a few times. "Uh...yeah. I mean, I've heard of it. The buildings pretty huge." You smiled, tracing patterns on the wood of the table with your nail. You recalled a memory of one of your friends saying that whoever owned it was "Compensating for something." It made you giggle a bit, the sound not going unheard by Jungkook. "Something funny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He had a piercing there as well. It was...kind of attractive for a man his age.

You quickly shook your head, biting your lip. "No, no...just something a friend said earlier. But yes, I've heard of it. Very impressive." you nod slightly, before the waitress came back over to set jungkooks order down on the table. A to-go cup of coffee and a donut. When she left, you started again. "How old are you? If you don't mind me asking." Jungkook only smiled, sipping at his coffee after blowing on it before he answered, "I'm thirty-two. I became a CEO when I turned twenty-nine, so I'm fairly new at it still. It was a hand-me-down from an older brother of mine."

You nodded, considering his words before asking another question. "So...then why the ad?" you smiled a bit, before continuing: "I mean, youre a fairly successful CEO, you're smart and probably rich, and you have model good looks. I'm sure you wouldn't have trouble finding someone in your...class that would attend events with you." After taking a sip of your coldening tea, you shrugged nonchalantly. "Just saying..." you smiled.

Jungkook chuckled a bit as he leaned back in his seat, studying you for a moment. "My class? You mean starving models, idols, and other business women who all act dumb and fall at my feet?" he laughed softly again. "Lets just say that I was feeling generous. I wanted to help someone who needed the money, and I wanted something...new. Normal."

"Normal, as in myself?" you asked, making the man chuckle again. "Mhm, like you. You're not swooning everytime I smile at you. You don't seem to care about my money, even though you answered the ad." He sipped his coffee again, "Which leads me to my next question, why did you answer the ad?" The question took you by surprise, although you should have expected it with something like this.

"Well, I'm a broke college student and I'm severely in debt. Theres not much else to it." You shrugged simply, watching his facial expressions. You didn't fail to notice the slight clench of his jaw. How sharp and defined it was. This man was definitely fine as fuck. and here you were, sitting across from him. In the oddest of situations.

"I see." he nodded. "well, then I'm happy you answered the ad. Not just because you need the money, but because you weren't playing with me and that you seem surprisingly honest." He chuckled. "That and you are extremely beautiful." He hummed. The compliment caught you offguard as you blushed heavily, nearly choking on your drink as you wiped your mouth with a napkin. "I- Thank you..." you breathed, laughing a bit.

Jungkook just smiled at you, drinking his coffee quietly as he stared out the window. The clocks hands slowly ticking as it neard half past noon. You needed to go soon, one of your classes was coming up. "So." Jungkook started again, looking back at you easily, drumming his fingers against his cup. "I suppose we should go over the events of the week before I have to go." He chuckled, pulling out a folded piece of paper and sliding it towards you. You unfolded it gently, reading over the written out itinerary. It was fairly simple:

*Monday - Dinner with friends

*Tuesday - Photoshoot for magazine

*Wednesday - Business meeting followed by dinner

*Thursday - Visiting sister companies

*Friday - Office Gala

Your head nodded at the words printed out on the sheet, before you looked back up at him. "So we're doing this?" You ask softly, making the businessman chuckle. "Of course we are. You're a very bright woman. You'll do well." He hummed approvingly, sitting up straight now. "And ofcourse I'll pay you every night for your company. A glorified escort if you will, although I hope we can become more like friends."

You nodded, smiling as you tucked the paper away into your purse before you stood up. "Alright. Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow Jungkook." You breathed, holding out your hand for him to take. The mans hand sliding into your gently, the rough calluses on his palm scraping against yours slightly. "Tomorrow. Oh, and don't worry about paying. I'll cover it." he grinned, winking playfully before he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, letting go of it after a few moments. You could have sworn your heart stopped and your face turned bright red as you nodded faintly.

"Mhm..yeah. Tomorrow." you agreed, before you grabbed the rest of your things and headed for the door, casting one long glance back at the older gentleman before leaving the quaint cafe and heading back onto the busy city streets. Were you even prepared for this? It sounded like a lot in the end, even as day shifted into night and you were comfortably in bed. Your mind racing. You sighed heavily, letting out a breath as you turned on your side. The upstairs neighbors noises slowly lulling you to sleep, mixed with the faint traffic sounds outside and the A/C blasting into your small room.

Tomorrow would definitely be an interesting one...

------

The week seemed to go by in a big blur. Dinner with Jungkooks friends had went surprisingly well even though you weren't used to the upscale dinners and fancy restaurants. Jungkook had prepped you before hand on everyone's names and had even took you out shopping for a few new clothing items. He had told you that the dress you wore to dinner looked flattering on you. You could have sworn you had caught his eyes wandering over your bare legs a few times during dinner that night.

But in the end, the older man had drove you home in his Mercedes and walked you to your apartment door, kissing your hand again before he left. Everytime he did that, sparks seemed to ignite under your skin.

Tuesday was calmer. You didn't know why Jungkook had wanted your company at a simple photoshoot but it seemed to calm his nerves whenever he'd get a break from the bright flashes of the camera, finding you seated in the same chair all afternoon. You were glad to help him, even though he should be used to this type of publicity. 

Later, as the two of you were walking the city sidewalks, he had said that photoshoots always made him nervous. "What if I had a stain on my tie or my zipper was down?" He had muttered to you, a light pink blush appearing on his aged face. It made you laugh louder than intended, the man shushing you quickly as he fought a chuckle. "Shh...you'll ruin me!" he had whispered, soon joining in your laughter. When he had taken you home that night, he kissed your hand again. "Goodnight sweetheart." He had mumbled softly, before handing you an envelope. 

In the silence and solitude of your apartment, you opened the seal on the envelope, your eyes widening at the cash nestled inside. "Shit..." you had breathed. This man wasn't playing around. This money alone would cover half your bills. Before you went to bed that night, you stuck the payment in a safe place to save it. Maybe by the end of the week you could be living a little easier...

The meeting on Wednesday ran long. Longer than Jungkook intended as you sat in the lobby of his building. The black dress you wore hugging your curves as you sat neatly in a leather chair. You found things to busy yourself though. Like paying your past due bills and talking to a nice security guard. The old man giving you some insight to Jungkooks life.  Apparently the man used to be a famous idol. You didn't really care about that part, but he had mentioned to you in passing that he was very good at karaoke. It made sense now. 

Jungkook had six older "brothers" too, who were also apart of the band. 

"Sorry I'm late." Jungkook breathed as he joined you, his dark eyes looking at the security guard and then you. "What did Jun tell you?" He asked playfully, clearly he knew the man well enough to not get mad at him. The conversation flowed in the car as well, you questioning him endlessly about him being a successful idol and him just laughing and explaining his tattooed arm now. Especially the ones tattooed on his knuckles and hand. 

When he had finished, he smiled at you and finally took in your appearance for tonights dinner. You watched as his eyes darkened slightly, his tongue flicking against the metal of his lip ring. "I like this one more than the last." He nodded, his veined hand moving to rest on the dark fabric covering your thigh. His breathing seemed a bit heavier as he parked his car. "I like it too." you mumbled, blushing a bit as you felt the heat from his palm through your dress. It never went farther than that though. Even through the dinner, Jungkook was nothing short of a gentleman. 

Everything seemed to shift slightly on Thursday though. 

Jungkook had paid you that morning, before he told you that you actually couldn't join him today. For what reason, you didn't know. But when he had shown up at your door that morning to tell you, his eyes were dark and tired looking. Like he had stayed up all night after he dropped you off. He also looked...angry underneath the smile lines. But no matter how much you wanted to comfort him, you remained quiet and just nodded at his words.

You had decided to clean your apartment when he left you. The two of you exchanging quick little messages here and there about the day and how you were doing. To be honest, it was weird being alone now. You were so used to Jungkook being there with you all week and now you felt...alone. You liked having someone there to talk to all the time and to laugh with. You had even told Jungkook this, messaging him more than he had replied back. Sure, you felt bad. What if you were interrupting his meeting? 

But the other side of you missed him a lot. And when your phone chimed an hour later, you didn't hesitate to check. It was Jungkook, but instead of replying to your desperate "I miss you" text, he had simply told you that dinner was canceled tonight. So was he even coming over at all? The question ran through your head more times than you'd care to admit. Instead of sulking like you had been doing though, you replied with a picture of yourself in the dress you were going to wear to tonights dinner. The red velvet garment hugging your thighs and breasts. The neckline dipping down between your cleavage slightly. Sure, it was revealing, and Jungkook hadn't seen it yet, but you liked it a lot. You quickly added a text after the picture was sent: 

"Too bad about dinner. I wanted to wear this for you."

You watched your screen after sending it. 

You watched it deliver.

You watched Jungkook look at it and leave you on read. 

He never answered, even as the hours passed and you had eventually took the dress off and showered for the night. Putting on a pair of sweats and a tank top as you grabbed your phone and flopped down on your old couch. It was about nine at night when frantic knocking sounded at your door. You weren't asleep yet, but now you were hyper aware of the sound as you stalked to your living room. 

When you answered it, you were taken aback by the disarrayed Jungkook at your door. His hair was messy and his tie was loose around his neck. He smelled faintly like whiskey as his eyes met yours. His pupils blown wide enough to cover the color of his irises. Before you could even ask what had happened today, he was on you. The older man moving inside the apartment with you before he closed the door and locked it. His large hands on your hips as he found the nearest wall to back you up against. His breath was heavy as he breathed in the scent of your slightly damp hair, his fingers digging into the gray fabric of your sweats gently. 

"Jungkook- what are you-..." You went to ask softly, your own heart racing as you watched him, his hand coming up to press a slender finger to your lips. "Now, what makes you think...you can just send me a photo like that when I'm in a meeting..." he whispered faintly, pulling away to look down at you. He wasn't drunk, that was evident on how clear his words were. So this...whatever this was, he had planned all the way here.

"I thought you'd like it..." You answered calmly, your eyes meeting his softly. "D-did you like it?" you asked, smiling a bit at him. The man chuckled and moved to press his lips against your cheek, his hands squeezing your hips as he tugged you closer to him. "Fuck yes." he growled lowly. "It made me want to leave my meeting so I could drive over here and rip it off with my teeth..." 

The suggestion in his tone almost made your knees buckle as a slight whimper left your lips. How long had it been since someone had talked to you like that? It felt like forever. But this...coming from an older man? It made your stomach do flips as you bit your lip. "O-oh yeah?" you asked shakily, your hand resting against his chest. Jungkook only nodded as his lips moved to kiss and suck lightly against your neck and jaw. His hands sliding to cup your backside and pull you closer against him. It was evident that he was hard in his slacks. But this...wasn't something that had been mentioned before. Sure, there had been light touches and flirting...but never this extreme. 

"Jungkook..." you started, your breaths heavier than they were before as you pushed against him slightly. The older man paused in his onslaught of kisses, pulling away at your pushes to look down at you. "I-i'm sorry. I know that the ad said no sexual favors. That's not what I intended..." he blushed slightly. He looked so boyish as he apologized, but you just shook your head slightly. "I-its okay...I just didn't expect it." you answered, "I just missed you." 

At those words, a cute bunny grin appeared on his face. "Missed me, hm?" he teased, his hands still on your ass as he studied your face. He was quiet for a long moment as he studied your lightly flushed cheeks and your dilated pupils. One of Jungkooks hands left your ass to come up and cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against the rosy flesh. The two of you were practically sharing every breath now. "Do you want me to leave?" he whispered. "Just say the words and I'll go." He mumbled against your lips. Your head swam as you were overwhelmed by the full force of him. The smell of an old cologne wafting off of his disheveled suit coat. The look was definitely affecting you, that and his hands on your body. 

Jungkook opened his mouth to speak but he didn't get a chance as your lips met his. The two of you working in a tandem as his tongue slid past your lips. Eliciting soft groans from you as your arms reached up to wrap around the mans neck, your fingers twining in the strands of hair at the nape of Jungkooks neck. When he pulled away, he smirked down at you and your slightly swollen lips. His tongue darting out to lick his own lips. "I've been thinking about doing that all week." he chuckled. "but...I should go now. Let you sleep...hm? Prepare for that party tomorrow night."

                                                                                            -----

And that's how you ended up at this glamorous party, Jungkooks hand secured on your hip as he leaned into you. His breath tickling your ear as he hummed. "Did you hear me?" he asked, a soft laugh leaving the man. It snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting his as you smiled. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" It made him laugh again as his hands moved to turn you around. Your eyes meeting his dark ones.  "I asked if you were having a nice night?" He smirked playfully, the gray in his hair catching the light from the overhead chandeliers. 

"Oh.", you started, looking around a bit more. To be honest, it was a little overwhelming. All the people and the music. You had gotten to meet some of Jungkooks "brothers". Jimin and tae. That was a definite upside, as the two men were as nice and as teasing as Jungkook. "I guess? This is my first Gala. I have nothing to compare it to." You shrugged, smiling faintly up at the man. His hands tightened on your silk-clad hips then, his mouth meeting your ear as his lips brushed against it. "Maybe not..." He whispered, "maybe we can keep doing this...together." 

His words made you pause. Your eyes widening as you pulled away to look at him. "Keep doing this...Jungkook, what are you talking about? I'm a twenty-two year old college student. I'm not rich or used to all this! I would never fit in here or with your crowd." you whispered frantically, trying to get free from the mans gentle grip on you. He wouldn't budge, his doe eyes staring at you. His lips slightly parted. His tongue played with the piercing in his lip as you waited for a response with baited breath. 

"Come with me." He said suddenly, sliding his hand into your and heading up a grand staircase. It lead to the second floor, people watching from the railings at the party down below. A party that soon grew quiet as the man in front of you led you down halls and walkways. He was eerily quiet as you let him, before he pushed open a door that led to a lavish bedroom. A large bed against the far wall, draped with curtains. Modern furniture everywhere and a view that put any you'd seen to shame. 

"Where are we Jungkook? Why'd you bring me here?" you asked, closing the door behind you. You took a few steps into the room, your hands slack at your sides as you watched the man go over to a liquor cabinet and pour himself a small glass of whiskey. He downed it in one go, before he leaned against the counter he was behind. His dark eyes staring right into your soul. "This is my private room. I pay for it. I come here when I'm stressed or when I want away from my lonely apartment. Jimin owns this entire building." He smirked slightly as he watched your mouth part in surprise. 

"Oh." you muttered, before taking another slow look around. But you could feel the mans eyes on you. Like a predator watching it's prey. " I want to keep doing this." He started then, making you turn around to look at him. "And before you complain...let me say this," He held up a hand, smiling playfully at you. "I like you. A lot. You're different. You're beautiful." he blushed, the man still slightly bashful as he admitted this to you. A hint of the teenager underneath it all showing through. 

"And I know you're not rich. I didn't fail to notice your mail yesterday when I came over. You needed to be my escort for the money and I understand that. You wanted nothing more than the job and the cash that I offered." He shrugged. "I was prepared to pay you your final earning tonight actually, but I wanted to say this first," He paused, gauging your reaction. When you just watched him, listening intently, he continued.

"I want more than this. I want to take you to more than just galas and photoshoots." 'He smiled, taking slow steps towards you now. "I want to take you on dates and to clothing stores." he hummed, before he was in front of you, his hands taking yours gently and holding them. His dark doe eyes meeting your wide ones. "I want to travel the world with you..." he breathed, his thumbs rubbing the back of your hands. 

"I want...you."

The words came crashing down on you. Your heart racing as you stared at him in shock and disbelief. This man...wanted you? A rich, successful, older CEO wanted a normal girl from some no name town? You almost couldn't believe it. And you weren't surprised when you found yourself nodding at his words. With shaking hands you reached up and cupped his face between them. You had denied yourself since that night at dinner when he had kept looking at you. Had denied what happened between the two of you yesterday. You were done not giving in to what your heart and body clearly wanted. 

"I want you too Jungkook." You whispered, your lips meeting his in a rush of courage and passion. Only a second passed before you felt him kissing you back, his tongue asking for entrance as it slid across your lower lip. Jungkooks hands moved and wrapped around you then, his veiny hands grasping your ass and giving a playful squeeze as you opened up for him. The sound of your kissing and shared breaths the only noise in the room. 

When you moaned against his lips is when both your resolves snapped. The man easily lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you over to the large bed. He set you down easily before he pulled away, his eyes on you as he stepped back and pulled his tie free. Jungkook taking his time as he slowly untucked his shirt, unbuttoning it and letting it fall to the floor. A low chuckle left him at your awed expression. This man was so fine, it had to be criminal. His tattoo ended at his shoulder, and his body was toned. Like desire incarnate. 

"Fuck." you whispered, feeling your core clench and ache slightly. Maybe it had been awhile since you've done anything with a man. Your body felt like it was on fire. Jungkook just chuckled at the heat behind your single word, the outline of his erection pressed against his black slacks. He was big, and you wondered what it would feel like when he was inside you. Stretching you open so you could take all of him. Just the thought made you shiver, your legs pressing together under your dress. He took note of that, his pupils dark as he smirked. The man lowering to the ground in front of you, resting on his knees. "What's wrong babygirl?" He breathed, one of his larger hands sliding under your dress and up the bare flesh of your leg. 

The name alone caused you to whimper with desperation. Fuck, hearing that from an older man had definitely awoken something within you. Jungkook smirked at your silence as his hand only slid higher. He stopped when his fingers brushed your inner thigh. "Do you want me to?" he breathed heavily, waiting for your response. You looked down at him then, biting your lip as your legs parted on pure instinct. "Want you to what?" you asked playfully, your chest rising and falling quickly. 

Jungkook raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, licking his lips again as his hand only inched higher. You both clearly wanted this. "Do you want me to show you how a real man pleasures a cunt like yours?" he grinned, his fingers skimming the lace of your underwear. A gasp left you as you shivered, nodding quickly at his devilish words. At this point you let him do anything he wanted. 

That was all Jungkook needed as he slid your dress up your legs, bunching the material at your waist as his eyes ate up the image before him. Your black lace panties already ruined with an obvious wetness. He chuckled slightly as he ran a skilled finger over your covered slit, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "See? Already ruined for me,hm?" he licked his lips. He gently moved to pull your underwear to the side, his other hand grasping your hip gently as you leaned back on your arms to watch him. Jungkook nearly groaned at the sight of your aching clit, begging for attentipn as he leaned up and kissed along your thighs. You were already trembling with need, and you were afraid that you would come just from this alone. 

The older man kissed and sucked along your smooth skin, before he slowly slid his skilled tongue up your slit and though your folds. His lips sealing around your pulsing clit. The moan that left you was loud and sudden, your hips bucking up against his wanting mouth. His hand gently held you down as he feasted on you like a man starved. His lips and tongue pleasuring you until you were a mess of cries and moans. Your hands grasping at the salt and pepper strands of his hair. "J...Jungkook-" you whined. "I'm going to cum if you keep doing that- please" 

Jungkook pulled away then, letting you catch your breath as he stared at you. His lips and chin drenched with your arousal. His tongue flicking his lip ring as he stared at you. "I know baby...I could tell." he smiled, before he stood up and unbuckled his belt. His slacks sliding down his waist, revealing black Calvin Klein boxers. His hardened erection straining against the material as he climbed onto the bed, hovering over your disheveled form. "I want to finish together." He whispered, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. His skilled mouth moving to capture your lips. The taste of yourself on his lips was enough to send you reeling, your back arching up into him so he could reach under you and unzip the dress you wore. 

Once that was done, he helped you shimmy out of it, the man throwing the pile of red silk onto the floor. Aside from your underwear being halfway down your full thighs, you were naked under him. Nipples perfectly peaked against the slight chill in the air. Jungkook stared down at you then, one of his hands coming up to roll and pinch one of them, causing you to moan and whine for him. "Please-" you begged quietly. Jungkook looked at you, smirking playfully as his other hand left you and tugged down his boxers. His considerable length slapping against his toned stomach. Precum beading at the tip already. It made you hungry. It made your pussy even wetter than it already was. 

"Please what, baby?" he whispered,pecking your lips. A hand leaving your breast and moving to cup your cheek. His other hand slowly stroking his cock. You watched him, stomach clenching as your legs parted for him to ease between. "Please fuck me." you begged quietly, blushing faintly as you stared at him. 

Jungkook nodded, smiling slightly before he kissed you. His hand around his cock slowly guiding him against you. His tip spreading your folds apart before he was slowly inching inside of you. His lips cut off the garbled moan that left you, your hands tangling in his hair tightly after you wrapped your legs around him. Once he had given you time to get a feel of him, he started pushing more. Until he completely bottomed out, filling you to the brim with himself as he slowly started thrusting. 

The moans that left the both of you were long and loud when he started moving against you. Sweat beading at his temple as he leaned down to kiss you again. His kiss gentle as his hips picked up a steady rythym. Your legs only tightened further around him as he did, pulling away to cry out in ecstacy. He felt so good against you. The warmth, the shared breaths, the absolute heavenly feel of him inside you made your toes curl as you felt that long overdue lick of pleasure slide down your spine and pool in your stomach. 

Jungkook knew it too. Could feel the way your walls clenched and tightened around him the fatser and harder his thrusts became. He was also chasing his own release, but he wanted to watch as the pleasure crossed your face. Wanted to see you turn to mush underneath him as he contimued to use you to reach his own orgasm. "Thats it baby...just a little more for me.." he whispered against your cheek, his nose skimming the rosy pink skin. "You're being so good...you feel so perfect around me." The praise went straight to your head as you turned his face towards you, lips meeting his in a sloppy kiss as you crumbled around him. Your hips met his slowing thrusts, riding out your orgasm. Moans and whined falling from your reddened lips as you looked up at him with hooded eyes. 

Jungkooks thrusts were getting slopppier by the second as he guided you through your climax, his cock aching for its own release. The mans hands propping him up above you slightly, tattooed hand dug into the blanket under you as his eyes raked over your sweaty, pleasure-stricken features. Soft moans still left your lips at his weakening thrusts, your poor cunt sensitive after the onslaught he was currently trying to end. Your hands tangling back in his hair as you kissed him. 

It wasn't long before Jungkooks hips pushed for the final time, making sure he was securely all the way inside you before he let his orgasm take him. His cock spurting out rope after rope of cum inside you. Painting your insides in white as he slowed, eventually stopping. Your thighs were sticky with sweat and release as it trickled out of you around him. A satisfied smile plastered your face as Jungkook fell on top of you, burying his face in your neck as he peppered your heated skin with kisses. 

The two of you layed there for what seemed like forever, until the older man rolled off of you, sliding out of you gently before he pulled you against his chest. Jungkook smoothed your hair back as he reached down and pulled a blanket over the both of you, a smile on his face as he kissed your forehead. You were both too tired to clean up. But you had all the time in the world with him now. Jungkook sighed in contentment. "Thank you." he whispered softly as the two of you lay there. 

You turned on your side slowly, already feeling the ache between your legs. You would worry about that tomorrow. " For what?" you asked sleepily, playing with a strand of his hair. Jungkook hummed and wrapped an arm around you, tugging you even closer to him. "For playing the part." He breathed against your hair, making you blush and laugh slightly. You only nodded, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "Starting tomorrow...I don't think I want to play a part anymore." Jungkook just smiled at your words, his heart felt full as he nodded, letting you doze off against him. 

What would the next few weeks entail? The next few years? 

But he wouldn't worry about that now. All he wanted now was to be close to you. To never let you go. So he wouldn't.

Not until you ordered him away.

[enha-roza]

OTHER IDOLS BEING AMAZED BY ROZA

Enhypen 8thmember!oc

synopsis : other idols being amazed and praising Roza.

wc : 1k

YEONJUN

Roza and Yeonjun have known each other since early 2018 when both were big hit trainees but this doesn't stop them hyping each other up. During a 2022 award show Yeonjun and Roza had a collaboration where the two would be performing a duet of taemin’s Heart stop featuring Seulgi. 

While preparing for the performance, they were filming behind the scenes. “And here we have Roza!” Yeonjun pointed the camera at Roza and she waved. “Hello Moa!”. “We have a very special performance prepared for you guys, I hope you love it!”. “Yes we are working very hard”. “Roza has been working very hard as well. Everytime i see her dance I get blown away!” Yeonjun said as Roza got flustered. “Thank you! But I'm definitely not better than you. Yeonjun 4 gen it boy!” The two laughed as they continued to practice. 

The camera filmed as they continued to learn the dance. Roza was a fast learner, learning the dance almost straight away. “Wow, you're so good!” Yeonjun said as he watched her continued to watch Roza dance. “That's a professional,” He said, pointing at her. “Real talent!”. Roza, getting shy, stopped dancing. “Don't stop… you’re so cool!”. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

WINTER

Roza and Winter became friends shortly after both groups debuted in November of 2020. During an award show ENHYPEN were performing their most recent songs, when the camera cut to winter staring in awe as Roza performed her part. Winter got surprised and laughed as the camera cut back to ENHYPEN.

The next day Winter was on live when fans started asking questions about Roza. “oh Roza? We became friends shortly after debut, we are very close”. She smiled as she continued to giggle. “Yesterday she was so cool during Enhypens' performance… i was in awe as many of you saw” she blushed remembering being caught on the cameras simping. “I was shocked to see myself on the big screen, but I think many of you can relate to how I felt. She's a true idol!” 

˖ ✧ ⸻

SUNG HANBIN

As Enhypen were at Mcountdown doing their interview when they were asked to sing XO. Roza and Heeseung sang as Niki and Sunghoon danced in front. Hanbin was seen at the back smiling in awe as he listened and watched them perform. “Wow, your vocals are so good!” he said as she was standing next to him. She blushed as she bowed to thank him. Both smiled shyly as they continued with the interview. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

KEEHO

Even though the two are broken up they are still friends. Keeho still finds Roza very pretty and sometimes can help but stare if he sees her during an award show. Enhypen and P1Harmony were sitting next to each other as they watched other idol groups perform and accept awards. 

While Enhypen were accepting an award, when Roza was shown on the big screen. Many fans screamed at her visuals. Keeho couldn't stop himself from reacting, also smiling at her beauty on the screen. Which many noticed and later was posted all over social media. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

JAKE AND SUNOO

During I-Land Roza was a hot topic. Due to her talent she was a fan favorite among watches and other trainees. During the first episode, everyone was performing their applicant songs. Roza and trainees Nari and Jihyun get up to perform Red Velvet’s ‘Bad Boy’. “Wow, they're really good… makes me more nervous.” Sunoo nodded his head in agreement. “They're on another level.” 

After the girls finished and got their votes they sat back down. “Roza did the best for real.” Sunoo whispered to jake. “She's so pretty too! Makes me jealous.” Sunoo laughed at Jake's statement. “Jealous… okay hyung.” “Seriously, she's pretty and talented, she's like the perfect human being.” Jake's eyes are still on Roza, admiring her beauty. Sunoo watched as Jake fell in love. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

PRODUCE 48 

It was during the ‘into the new world’ performance where Roza was the main vocalist of the unit. As they perform Roza gets lots of positive reaction to her singing. “Woww, she's so good!”. “As expected from Roza!” the judges said watching her perform. Even the trainees were amazed as they watched her sing. “Wow, unnie is so good!” Wonyoung said. “She really is!” Yena said back. “I think I fell in love!” 

˖ ✧ ⸻

YEDAM

Roza had arrived on set for Yedam’s solo music video ‘WAYO’. “Oh you're here!” Yedam smiled as Roza walked up to him wrapped in a blanket. “I'm so tired… Why is it so early.” “oh you'll live.” He laughed as Roza glared at him. “See that guys, that’s real friend. No concern." "I do care.” “no you don't” staff laughing at the twos interaction. 

Later Roza was filming some solo scenes. Yedam grabbed a camera and started filming her. “Look at her… she's so pretty she makes it look easy. Flawless” he laughed as he continued to watch her. After she was done Roza found her way to Yedam. “How did I do?” “fantastic, really… you looked really pretty.” “ayyy, you think I'm pretty…” She batted her eyes at him. “Don't push it..” “okay.” she giggled. “You give this girl one complement and it goes straight to her head.” Yedam joked as he looked at the camera. 

˖ ✧ ⸻

BONUS - STAFF

Enhypen was doing the rehearsal for the MAMA performance and Roza had a solo dance performance. As she stood on stage ready to dance, the Enhypen members and staff stood on the side ready to watch. The music started and everyone stood amazed as Roza began dancing. “Wahh, she's so good!” “she's so mesmerizing!” 

After finishing, the staff clapped for Roza as she came backstage. “How do you think you did?” Roza looked up as a staff member pointed a camera at her. “I think I did alright… maybe I could make my moves more sharp?” she questioned. “I think you did perfect,” Manger Yuki said as Roza laughed. “Really?” “Of course! Enhypen members always do well.” Many staff nodded in agreement. “Our staff is the best!” Roza giggled.

a/n : hope yall enjoy!!

[captain-joongz]

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 &lt;3

Taglist (open) : @wobblewobble822

[glorious-spoon]

U …on a place of insecurity for steddie? 👀

Hi, and thank you! This got a little bit out of control, :D

-

The scars don't bother Eddie. They're not the first ones he's gotten; they won't be the last. He mourns the ragged bites missing from some of his tattoos, but he can always get new ones. And all things considered, as far as body art goes, it's hard to get more metal than a bunch of scars from being nearly torn apart by supernatural monsters.

Like. Metal as fuck.

It doesn't occur to him for a long time that Steve might feel differently. Part of it, at least for a while, is a case of embarrassing hero-worship that was probably inevitable after the guy slung him over his shoulders and carried him out of the underworld. Part of it is that Steve has a better poker face than Eddie anticipated, and a lot of experience at shoving down the stuff that bothers him so that he can keep moving.

So it takes him a while to notice that Steve wears collared shirts all the time now, scarves in the winter, turtlenecks that make him look like some kind of artsy hipster that he definitely is not. 

The scar on his throat fades from vivid purple to pink, but it still shows up when he tans, which Eddie knows because Robin (and, okay, the judicious application of Eddie's best weed) has convinced Steve to pull off his shirt and join them in the lake on this particular late-August day when they are, for once, not babysitting a pack of children.

"Come on," Steve complains, but he seems looser now, easier in his own skin than he usually is these days.

"Come on," Robin mimics. "Or I'm going to push you in with your clothes on."

"I'd like to see you try," Steve mutters, but he peels his polo shirt up and off over his head and tosses it behind him on the dock. There's miles upon miles of gorgeous skin, dotted with freckles and moles, and—yeah, a whole bunch of scars. Most of them are similar to Eddie's: torn skin stitched back together, the ragged lines of grafts and stretch marks that the doctor assured him would fade with time, as if he gives a shit. Eddie's are worse, but Steve still has the look of a patchwork doll clumsily stitched back together in some places. The line around his throat makes Eddie wince, though. It looks like someone tried to hang him; it reminds him too vividly of that moment in the Upside Down. Steve on his back, trapped and struggling and slowly strangling as he was eaten alive.

Steve glances at him. His shoulders hunch, almost imperceptibly, and then he shakes his head and dives smoothly into the water, taking long enough to surface that Eddie considers panicking about it.

Then Steve's sleek head breaks the surface. Robin splashes him, and he blows a fountain of water at her, and then Eddie gets in on it and it rapidly turns into a free-for-all before they all finally retreat back to shore, exhausted, and Steve pulls his shirt back on without even waiting to dry off.

They don't talk about it, not then. But Eddie spends the rest of the day thinking about it, and the rest of the following day, and then it's a week later and he's making out with Steve on the couch at his new trailer, which has probably been a long time coming, to be honest.

Steve's an unsurprisingly good kisser, and he seems perfectly enthusiastic about Eddie's wandering hands, laughing under his breath and hauling Eddie in until he's straddling him. Eddie laughs, delighted, and kisses him again. It's all going fucking great until his fingers brush the edges of the scar that winds up to a narrow terminus under Steve's jaw.

He feels it when Steve goes still, and doesn't realize why for a moment. Then he remembers.

"Should I not—"

"Sorry," Steve says immediately, and drops his head back against the couch, wincing. Eddie shifts his weight, wondering if he should move. But Steve's hands are still on his thighs, and he doesn't seem like he's about to shove Eddie off.

"Nah, man, it's okay. I get it, trust me. If you want me to be like" —he lifts both hands, palm out, demonstrating— "you know, hands off about the battle scars kinda thing…"

Steve makes a face, half a wince. "You noticed that, huh."

"I notice a lot of things about you," Eddie says honestly.

"Sorry."

"Like, I totally get it—I mean, not totally, obviously, but I'm not gonna do something if it freaks you out."

Steve sighs. "It doesn't freak me out. They're just—I don't know. Fucking ugly."

"They're not," Eddie says immediately.

Silence for a moment. Then Steve says, "I'm sorry. That was a dick thing to say."

"Oh, what, you mean because we got matching body art now?" Eddie asks.

"I mean. Yeah."

"Doesn't bother me. They're metal as fuck."

Steve smiles a little. And it's wanting to keep that smile, maybe, that has Eddie sitting back across his thighs to pull his shirt off and toss it aside, leaving him on display—scars and all. Steve's breath catches a little, but the look on his face isn't freaked out; instead, it's soft and wondering. "Can I—?"

"By all means knock yourself out," Eddie says, and then Steve's warm hands are smoothing lightly up his sides, over the patchy scar tissue. It still feels weird—oversensitive in some places, numb in others—but something about the way Steve is touching him right now feels reverent, almost. Then he leans forward to press a careful kiss to the worst of them, a big ragged shiny patch spanning the front and top of Eddie's left shoulder. Eddie shudders; Steve sighs against his skin.

"You like that," he says.

"I'm gonna be totally honest with you, I'll probably like just about anything you want to do right now."

Steve huffs out a laugh, ducking his head, and leans up to kiss Eddie's mouth again. Then he leans back and peels his shirt off too, a quick movement that almost ends in him elbowing Eddie in the face.

He's gorgeous like this, all freckled skin and sturdy muscles. And yeah, the scars—it's not that Eddie doesn't get Steve's deal with them. They're a physical reminder of the pain, of all the shit they went through, and they're the kind of thing that most people would probably have questions about, even if that question was just holy shit what happened, did it hurt?

Eddie was there, though. He knows.

"You can touch me," Steve says after a moment, during which Eddie seriously contemplates sitting on his hands to keep from doing exactly that. "If you want."

"Oh, thank god," Eddie says, all in a rush, and Steve starts laughing, the tension between them breaking.

Or not breaking, he thinks, as he slides a careful hand up Steve's scarred chest, lightly flicking a nipple as he goes and watching the quick intake of breath that nets him. Not breaking, just changing shape. Becoming sweeter. He keeps touching Steve, slow and careful, and feels Steve's tense body loosen beneath him just as slowly. Only then does he lean forward to press his mouth to the side of Steve's throat, where the scar is thickest.

Steve's breath catches again. Eddie stills.

"This okay?" he asks. His lips don't leave Steve's skin, so he can feel the way that Steve swallows before he nods.

"Yeah," he whispers. "It's okay."

Eddie kisses him again, closed-mouthed and lingering and as sweet as he can make it.

"Just means we survived," he whispers. "All this shit just means we made it. We're still here."

"Yeah," Steve whispers again. He tilts his head back, baring his throat to Eddie's mouth, and shudders when he kisses him there again. "I'm really glad we're still here."

[mentalknot]

On Relative Privilege

I recently had a conversation with my math major advisor that I’ve not fully processed… I came in hoping to talk about my “math future” in the next two years of undergrad, as research/everything going on in my life has left me in confusion. The first question he asked shocked me:

“Did you ever figure out winter housing?”

My home is extremely emotionally volatile, so I was seeking housing on the college campus for at least part of the break — I secured a few jobs and everything to meet the requirements… but I got a headache on the housing form… due-date, and I missed the deadline. Back to facebook marketplace once more… with a <$1000 budget, “four walls not required” as I joked.

I didn’t expect him to remember my mention of housing. Sure, I’d been sharing it with a few people to see if they had friends who needed housesitting, but it was a brief comment during a busy time of year… but he remembered? I replied to his question honestly,

“Nothing yet, a few options… but they denied my ask for a second application once more. Some say to reach out to student support networks, but I’m too privileged for those.”

He paused for a moment.

“Why do you keep saying that?”

I was stunned, as I am extremely privileged compared to an other students, as I see it… I have a physical house to return to (even if emotionally unhealthy), and part of my tuition is supported by extended family. Sure, I support myself on every other front, working multiple jobs on top of courses… but so do my friends. The way I saw it, only rich kids don’t have to work. Besides… it was my choice to become “unofficially financially independent.”

He continued…

“Take tuition out of the equation… you’re financially supporting yourself, are you not? You’ve been working nearly full time while being a full-time student and getting past multiple health issues… right? Most people don’t do that at 19/20.”

I tried to remind him that even with those factors, (thought I was unsure on the last point…), most people who do the same are at least borderline organized and responsible… which I’ve not been due to my mental health difficulties.

He continued…

“From what I see, you’ve matured quite a bit since last year.”

Huh? I’d been running off the impression that I came off as a delusional ill child who had no chance of a future (bluntly)… is this really how people see me? I asked,

“So I shouldn’t drop out? That’s one of the things I was going to ask…”

“You need to make money, whether that’s a period of leave or applying for fellowships, I’m unsure… but apply to everything you can — let them decide whether or not you’re ‘too privileged.’ Work hard next semester, fill in your knowledge gaps, and then we’ll figure out what’s next.”

The day following the meeting, I received a late offering for winter housing, two additional research positions: in computer science and algebraic combinatorics, and finally… for the first time in weeks… felt able to breath.

Just like that, math saved me once more… just as it had when I almost lost myself at 16 and found the definition of a vector space instead, just as it had when I needed to get out of that house and found paid research and and an “air mattress setup” with wonderful friends.

This winter, I’ll return to the world of mathematics surrounded by wonderful colleagues. Privileged or not, I couldn’t be more grateful.

[lemurballing]

The Tangleification of Whisper

aka a catchy title for my musings on how Whisper's characterization has changed overall across IDW - and to bring up some thoughts on what it might imply that Whisper is given this clear resemblance to Tangle herself.

If you haven't read the 2024 winter annual yet, this post does contain panels lifted from that -- read at your own risk.

First of all, let's look at where Whisper started - what she was like before the 'Tangleification' - so you can see how big a change it is from one section to the other. I do understand that 'characterization marches on' and being free to re-evaluate and adjust a character's interpretation over time can fine-tune a story into becoming something greater - but I will also try to explain why this specific character evolution is significant to my eyes, and implications it carries.

We first meet Whisper in Issue #8, where she displays pretty clear signs of avoiding people not just to keep to herself, but because of social anxiety. She trails Sonic and supports him from afar, but as soon as they notice her she gives up her immediate goal and leaps away to lose their attention:

And from Silver's comments, she was evidently this evasive for the entirety of the Forces war:

With the benefit of hindsight and retroactive application of motive, one might assume Whisper was keeping out of sight so Mimic would continue to believe she was dead and not track after her, but seeing how she acts in these and the next issues (at least, her appearances before Tangle & Whisper), that's definitely not the initial aims with her character.

Whisper shows no reservations besides her own displayed social anxiety to the idea of joining with someone else as a team, or affiliating herself with them. If Mimic was a thing in Whisper's story at this time, she wouldn't be smiling at the idea, she'd still have the same reservations she brings up later with Tangle.

Additionally, the way other characters behave around and address Whisper reinforce the idea that this aversion to company is an issue of anxiety or discomfort: that Whisper is definitively introverted and likes to operate alone (besides the wisps), instead of being forced to.

One of the bigger reasons I want to resurface this initial characterization of Whisper is because it is so interesting to have a member of the cast who IS genuinely introverted and doesn't want to deal with a large number of people. Even the more antisocial/lone wolf of Sonic's friends are that way because they simply don't connect or see a reason to become close to other people, not because it bothers them in particular.

Whisper, at this point, is a very unique example of someone shy still involving themselves in the fight, instead of the more common bombastic or loud personalities. Espio is probably the only other 'quiet' character, and that's still different because he isn't really 'shy'.

Then we see a little change in Tangle & Whisper, upon first being introduced to the idea that Whisper's current quiet personality is due to personal trauma and not simply a facet of the person she is, in seeing her pre-trauma personality be more enthusiastic. (BIG EDIT: I could elaborate more in a separate addition, but pre-T&W, Whisper is seen smiling far often than in T&W proper - so this is relegating the smiling to pre-trauma, instead of adding smiling at all - but the enthusiasm is new!)

This is every line of dialogue we see from pre-trauma Whisper in Tangle & Whisper. We can see only two panels where she's smiling; in one, with her eyes wide open, and in the other, with her eyes closed as is more typical of Whisper as she was introduced. The other three panels only contain dialogue, which does allow some inferences on Whisper's demeanor and personality.

This 2-panel sequence has the most information to speculate off - Whisper makes a statement in two parts. The particular decision to make "Tank inbound." a separate separate sentence implies it is spoken tersely, or while Whisper is in 'mission-focus', and less likely with a playful tone. This then contrasts her "Never mind!" and giggle in the next panel, building an impression that she's typically got a serious focus (at least while on a mission), but lets humor leak through when things go their way.

The other thing to note is that these panels are a very limited sample set, and the visual appearances are biased - when expressing gratitude to someone, or taking a group picture, it's only natural to put a smile on, even if you don't typically smile most of the time. We also only see Whisper around individuals she's already familiar with, so there's not necessarily any proof that at this point Whisper doesn't have any social anxiety, or that she would necessarily conflict with her earlier appearances around Sonic and Silver and everyone else.

So while Tangle & Whisper introduced the idea of Whisper being louder before losing her teammates, it's the 2024 annual that REALLY dials it up:

Whisper not whispering in the slightest, and in fact being a motormouth!

Whisper with wide eyes and/or a smile in virtually every panel she appears in, and thriving while in the thick of the group or having one of the others' attention on her, and...

...Whisper pulling this specific expression, which quite resembles the expression Tangle made while also seeing someone else display a really cool power they have.

It's almost strange to me, because we do have a good reason for Whisper to become more outgoing and outspoken... but that's in the present time period due to Tangle's influence, not necessarily her pre-trauma self!

The choice to rebuild Whisper as someone as inherently extroverted and attention-loving as Tangle also builds a comparison between the two: the idea that they started out so similarly, you can't help but wonder if the implication given is that Tangle going through Whisper's situation would result in the same personality developments, because Whisper's quiet personality is retroactively attributed to the trauma she gained, instead of being her natural personality.

Personally, I'm very fond of the characterization Whisper has closer to her introduction, and I would find it boring to effectively reduce her and Tangle to the same base personality, give or take tail powers and some trauma, instead of leaving them as distinct people at core: that even if they had gone through the same experiences, they'd still come out a little different, but they strive to understand and work with each other anyways.

...I've also got a meta-gripe in that you can write Whisper positively with Tangle's traits, but Tangle's in the thick of getting judged for having them...

[neptune-knows]

dol age headcanons

OK lets go

late 50s/early-mid 60s:

winter - "They're an older person, well-groomed and sophisticated." - probably a few years older than leighton - i imagine that he has aged nicely... but im also the president of the Winter Propaganda Club

leighton - described as having greying hair, was the headmaster when darryl was attending the school, who's described to be around mid-30s - textbook creepy old man

river - could also be in this category or the one below; honestly they just give off old person vibes - described as having greying hair - honestly thought that they were like. way older until i saw other ppls interpertations of them - i think they and winter are some years older than leighton AND have been working there longer and probably gossip about how much they hate leighton

late 40s/early-mid 50s:

avery - could be in this category or the one above; definitely the oldest li - "They're old enough to be the player's parent, but they're in good shape." - rich enough to afford plastic surgery/hair dye/other things to make you look younger longer

quinn - middle aged; probably mid 50s - another creepy old man (points)

brair - honestly imagine him, avery, and quinn to be around the same age - he started greying early and has been dying his hair since his 20s

late 30s/early-mid 40s:

sirris - i think they and sydney's other parent had sydney rather young - definitely older than dorren, maybe even late 40s

dorren - older than bailey and eden, younger than sirris

bailey - definitely mid-late 30s - i think he's the youngest out of the quinn/leighton/avery/brair/bailey group (is there a name for them? - also started greying early but would kill anyone who learned that

eden - same age as bailey, give or take a year

morgan - i dont have much to say about them tbh

zephyr - same as morgan, but i honestly forget they exist most of the time

early-mid 30s:

darryl - described as being mid-30s, was abused by leighton in school so was student aged while leighton was still in charged

sam - older than darryl, could easily be in the above category instead

landry - early 30s or late 20s, leaning more towards early 30s - definitely looks young for their age

jordan - old enough to be a high ranking church person - described in game as looking youthful though so who knows

remy - honestly not a lot to back this up, could honestly see them from early 30s-40s

late 20s:

wren - another character who i dont really have a firm age head canon for, definitely in their 20s though

nikki - idk why but they seem 28 years old to me

early-mid 20s:

harper - described in game as being/looking no older than 24, but could very easily be older - is he even old enough to be a doctor bro

alex - i feel like he's not much older than the pc, probably 21/22

mason - probably about the same age as harper - described as being not much older than some of the students

around pc's age:

sydney - i made a post awhile ago about my age headcanons for the school li's so ill keep it brief here - oldest school li, younger than alex

whitney - not sure if he's older than kylar but definitely older than robin

kylar - like above, older than robin - definitely younger than sydney as well

robin - few months older than pc

mickey - around pcs age, give or take a few months - probably dropped out of school as well

ancient and unknowable:

ivory wraith, gwylan

human ages not applicable:

great hawk, black wolf

[larkral]

I have made some words this week! Are they good? I don't know! Are they in a document? Yes. Praise to the muse or whatever. (Thanks for tagging me in @monbons!)

I've been hiding behind my hands on the end of Friday Prime (Holsom Timeloop), but I now know what I'm going to write and I'm going to write it, y'all. I know most of you don't go to OMGCP fandom, but I am going to continue to encourage you to submit an application for enrollment.

I have put some words into Finally (already, always) AND mysterious and as-yet-with-secret-name In Other Lands fic, though. So. Yep. That's what you'll be seeing.

Simon POV from Finally (already, always)

And he's about the handsomest boy at Watford. Definitely the most handsome boy in our year.  Sometimes I wonder if the reason I want him to like me is just that everyone else seems to, and I've forgot how to ignore it when someone doesn't.  But it isn't quite that.  There's something about him that's magnetic, something special. He's amazing on the football field. Definitely as good as some of the sixth years. Way better than me. He's even played in some of the interschool games. And of course he's top of our class. Or, well, him and Penny. They pretend they're competing for it, but we all know the only competition is good natured. Or, at least, I think it's good natured. There was that one time Baz burned a bit of Penny's notebook. But he said it was an accident, and he did put the fire out before too much of the notebook went up.

And my as-yet-unnamed In Other Lands fic, this snippet of which is really almost exclusively for @ionlydrinkhotwater and @petedavidsonscock (tag yourself in if you're a sunbrat enjoyer, please)

"Shall I tell him you'll be waiting for him there?"  "May as well."  "And will you be waiting for him there?"  "Maybe," Elliot said, and stomped off in the other direction.  The stomping was circuitous. The border camp wasn't that large, and eventually the stomping led to a lovely spot overlooking the lake. It would be absurd to suggest that Elliot had been hoping that Luke would be waiting there by the time he arrived, and no one suggested it, least of all Luke, who was waiting there when Elliot arrived.  "Hey, loser. Get tired of hearing how great you are?"

Tags under the cut!

Tagging my fandom buddies. If you detest getting a notification about wipsday when I post, please LMK and I'll strike you from my holiday card list. Sorry, I meant my tag list. :P You can still have a winter solstice card :-*

@stitchyqueer @thewholelemon @confused-bi-queer @raenestee @facewithoutheart @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @sillyunicorn @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @basiltonbutliketheherb @ileadacharmedlife @asocialpessimist @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @captain-aralias @petedavidsonscock @takitalks @artsyunderstudy @yeonjunenby @carryonvisinata @takenabackbytuesdays @martsonmars @nausikaaa @nightimedreamersghost @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ionlydrinkhotwater @that-disabled-princess @shrekgogurt @forabeatofadrum  @palimpsessed @fatalfangirl​ @blackberrysummerblog​ @valeffelees @imagineacoolusername @orange-peony @j-nipper-95 @whogaveyoupermission @wellbelesbian @rimeswithpurple @youarenevertooold @emeryhall @mooncello @monbons @run-for-chamo-miles

[midwesternwitchery]

Die Sonne - Part 3

a/n- I'm not entirely satisfied with how this came out but I know if I keep poking at it, it will only get worse soooooo here we go! If you have requests or ideas on where to take this story comment/ask/message me! I'm always down to hear yall's thoughts! 1.7k

Holy shit. Hes fucking massive. She thought as she stared at him. Apex Alpha was right the man was a fucking giant. He sat strapped to a chair in front of her. Big black boots led up to thick legs easily that were the size of her waist, he could snap her in half if he wanted and there would be nothing or no one who could stop him. She continued her perusal of him, noting a wide chest attached to powerful shoulders. He wore a hood over his head, even if he hadn’t been blindfolded she wouldn’t have been able to make out any identifiable features to his face. Probably to do with his military status- she assumed.

She frowned- Why did he look like he was hunching his shoulders inward? Was he trying to make himself- smaller? for her?

Her omega preened at that, she had to get that in check. It would do her no good to let her omega run the show. Tara said to trust her omega but that didn’t mean she had to give in to all of her impulses. Neither of them had moved as she looked him over. She had frozen in place just inside the door. Curious to see what he would do she waited for him to make the first move.

His voice was soft yet thickly accented as he said, “Hallo” with a slight wave of his bound hand. He seemed nervous, yet he smelled divine. The sample they had her sniff was nothing compared to having him right in front of her, even with the several feet of distance between them. Belatedly she realized she hadn’t responded as he shifted in his seat.

“Oh, um h-hi.” was all she managed to get out. Clearing her throat she tried again. “I’m Mina, there wasn’t much in your application that wasn’t blacked out and they didn’t tell me your name…” She trailed off hoping he would fill in some of the blanks she couldn’t seem to get out of Tara or Elias. She had tried questioning them while she waited to no avail. 

“König.” he said. When she raised a brow at him questioningly he rushed out- “My name, its König. Würdest du näher kommen?” He slipped into his native tongue without realizing it, she smiled at him. He was nervous, so nervous that he couldn’t keep his languages straight. 

“I um.. was that German?” she asked. His fists clenched over the arms of the chair and he let out a string of German under his breath (likely cursing his own stupidity) when he realized what he’d done. “Apologies, Mina. Would you come closer? Please?” 

She thought for a moment and decided there wasn’t any harm in coming a little closer. It most certainly had nothing to do with the fact that if she was closer she could smell him more. Nope. Definitely not. 

She stepped forward, closing some of the distance between them. Looking around she noticed this conference room was different than the last one she was in. There was the same table set up but one side of the room had plush sofas with throw blankets and pillows in baskets on the floor. She stopped at the edge of the platform, a mere foot of space between them. 

He was much bigger than she initially thought. She was barely eye level with him sitting in front of her. He inhaled deeply, letting loose a low rumble in his chest as he leaned into her space. Closing her eyes, tiny pinpricks of awareness came to life across her body. She sucked in a breath, inhaling his scent. He smelled like a warm campfire in winter, comforting while burning with its intensity. Her omega was pushing her to lean into him, to craw up in his lap and never leave.

That got her attention, she had closed her eyes at some point. Snapping them open she realized she had been leaning into his space, her lips just a breath away from his behind the mask. Despite her realization she froze, hoping he hadn’t realized how close she was she slowly leaned back. His head jerked in response, senses zeroing in on her, then quickly leaning back to give her some space. 

“Apologies…I-forgot myself for a moment.” His body was tense, voice strained as he spoke. “I do not wish to frighten you maus.” 

“You don’t. I mean not the way you think at least.” 

His posture slackened a bit at that, tilting his head slightly as if hes thinking intently.

“You are not what I expected, kleine maus.” there was a smile to his voice and she wondered if she would ever get to see it.

Straightening her shoulders she was determined to get this back on track. She had questions and needed answers. “I’d like to ask you a few questions if that’s okay?” God why was her voice so soft and timid. What the hell was wrong with her?! 

He nodded his acceptance.

‘Why are you here?’

‘To find my mate.- she took note he said his mate not a mate. Maybe there was hope.’

‘Your mate?’ 

‘Yes maus. My mate.’

‘You’re military. Does that mean you will be away a lot?’

‘I have time off for the next 6 months to find a mate. After that it depends. There will be times I’ll have to be away but if I am so lucky as to be accepted- they would be less frequent.’ before she could continue he asked- ‘Are you lonely Kleine Maus?’

Was she lonely? There was no simple answer to that. On one hand yes she was incredibly lonely. She was one of the only omegas in her family and they treated her much differently than that of her siblings. On the other hand she enjoyed her freedom away from the demands of others. She didn’t want to end up with someone who wanted to control her every move. 

Yet this alpha, he had shown her nothing but kindness, taking care to not show off his size against her, as most alphas tend to do. 

‘Yes.’

‘You don’t have to be.’

She could melt right there, a puddle at his feet. 

Before she could think better of it she stepped closer, standing in between his legs. His head shot up following her movements. 

‘Maus?’ His voice was cautious, uncertain.

‘Can I-’ He cut her off- ‘Anything maus. I am at your mercy.’

Oh he was good. Letting her be in control, knowing she likely had never been in control of her life, not truly.

She reached out, sliding her arms around his neck, she leaned down until her head was tucked into the base of his throat, hugging him. 

‘Will you be good to me?’ 

‘Always kleine maus’

She was about to ask what that meant when a knock sounded at the door startling her and making him growl low in his chest. Mina looked up at him, “I should probably go speak with them.” His whole body tensed, fists clenching and UN-clenching as she released him. 

Leaving him with a soft ‘Goodbye König.’ she slipped into the hall.

She turned to Tara as they walked down the hall and said, “Its him. I’d like to set it up with him.” Tara stopped walking and studied her for a long moment before asking, “You’re sure? An apex like him will not allow you to back out and leave. Its in his nature, apex alphas mate for life regardless-” 

Mina cut her off, snapping at her, “Yes I know” She sighed, attempting to soften her tone, “Just set it up please. I know what I’m doing.” 

Tara let out a huff, clearly thinking Mina was in over her head. “Alright lets set up the paperwork.” 

***

Three days. She signed the contract that day and conveniently enough there was a clause giving her three days to get her affairs in order before she would be moved into his home. Every time her thoughts went to him she swiftly pushed him from her mind. She had other things to think about right now. Most of which revolve around telling her family.

They were good people but thought they should dictate her life simply because she’s the only daughter and omega of her family. Knowing they would never approve of König she was conflicted. The damage was done, the contract had been signed but she was hesitant to say anything for fear of how they would react. Would her father try to overturn the contact? Would her brothers try to use force? Both are possibilities she would like to avoid. 

So she did the only thing she could do. She called her mother, and lied.

“Mama, I found an alpha. I’ll be moving to his home tomorrow morning.” 

For a moment all that could be heard on the other side of the line was unintelligible squeals of delight. She knew her mother would be happy but nothing like this. Once she calmed a bit the questions started.

“Who is he? What does he do? Where does he live? Tell me everything!” Her mother gushed at her. She answered her questions as vaguely as she could but her mother knew something was up that she wasn’t telling the full truth.

“What aren’t you telling me Mina?” Her mother wasn’t one to circle around her questions, she was much to direct for that.

“Mama please it’s late I really need to get some rest before tomorrow.” For a moment there was only silence, then her mother sighed.

“Just be careful. I love you.”

“Love you too mom.” Ending the call she wondered how this would all play out. 

Eventually they would find out he was an Apex, it was unavoidable. They would know the second they met him, but she hoped to have a few weeks at least alone for them to become closer before then. She wanted this to work, but would it? Could she ever be happy with an alpha? 

She cleared those thoughts from her head and crashed into her bed for the night. Hopefully the morning would hold more clarity, but it wasn’t likely. She was screwed and she knew it. She tossed and turned until the early hours, finally dozing for what seemed like just a few minutes before her alarm’s shrill ring startled her awake. 

Today was the day.

It would be the beginning or ending of her life as she knew it.

[bokumonoexchange]

The results are in! Thank you to all those who voted; honestly I was not expecting this much feedback. I was sure there'd be at most 50 votes total but this was a very pleasant surprise. It looks as though there's definitely enough interest to get the ball rolling with another Bokumono Exchange in the coming months, although a once-a-year event feels most appropriate. I'll open a poll sometime in October to see if people want a Spring or Summer exchange. In the meantime, I'm considering a short, casual prompt-inspired event some weekend in January or February to both pass the time in the winter months, and drum up excitement and inspiration. I've also tinkered with the Guidelines for the event; nothing has changed drastically, only, some aspects are explained in more detail. These guidelines will be linked to when the exchange applications open, and I'll also put a link to them in the blog description as it draws closer but feel free to check them out (There's a FAQ section as well as "Rules") and let me know if anything is unclear!

[wyrmst]

Out in the Cold (Part Two)

M Orc x M Troll (Hulder) Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 3473

Content Warnings: Emetophobia (Brief Mention of Vomiting)

I’ve been snowed in today, so it seems very fitting to post more of this story now :)

You’re not afraid to admit it; self control has never been your strong suit.

And in a way much reflective of your nature, you’ve completely lost steam. Relaxing as much as you can on the uncomfortable rock you’re sitting on, you fondly think back on the day you came here last winter, while chewing on more of your meager rations than you should. It’s hard not to feel nostalgic, even with the frankly pathetic way you ended up on the settlement’s doorstep.

They still took you in, even when they didn’t have to- and now you have a full year’s worth of memories of the orcs you’ve lived amongst.

…You suppose those memories will always be twinged with a more bittersweet quality, from now on. 

You’ll have to learn to live with it…

It’s not like you need them, anyway, you try to convince yourself. It’s gotten harder to do that now- after everything that’s happened- than when you first arrived, that’s for sure.

You're knocked from your thoughts by the reverberating sound of a hunting horn in the distance, carried even over all the ground you've covered because of the thick blanket of snow.

"Dammit-" You curse and scramble from your seat at once, then haphazardly shove your remaining travel provisions back into your pack.

Your daydreaming got out of hand, and now your headstart is spent. The orc hunting party will be on your tail any moment now, with strides much bigger than yours. You take off once again, footsteps nearly silent as you dash through the snowy woods.

Over the next few hours, your inescapable streak of bad luck rears its inevitable head. 

That tree looks familiar. And you’re pretty sure you've seen that configuration of rocks recently…

You brush it off as nerves, at first. You’re just getting into your own head. You know where you’re going- after all, you did have the brilliant foresight to pack a map and a compass, to combat your unfortunately lacking sense of direction.

…Until you come across a set of tracks in the snow.

There's no way they caught up already, let alone lapped me!

Taking a closer look, they're definitely from boots. Petite ones.

Not an orc’s, for sure. Who else would be out here? This isn’t good hunting weather… Out of curiosity, you line up your own boot next to one of the tracks.

…It’s a perfect match.

You… have managed to come across your own tracks in the snow.

Oh no. No, no, no- Not again-

You dig in your pack, looking for your compass and map.

…Which are not there.

A pit of despair knots in your stomach. You must’ve left it behind on the rock you were resting on earlier, after the sound of the horn spooked you.

Then it dawns on you - not only are you lost, you haven't even attempted to cover your tracks.

Your palm meets your forehead in irritation with yourself. You let out a long sigh, your fluffy tail swishing violently. 

This was supposed to be simple. You planned your exit strategy for weeks.

And yet you’ve already managed to screw it up this bad.

Why is it always like this?

Why are you always so unlucky?

The Spirits must really have it out for you…

LAST WINTER

“Here’s your package, granny.” You say in the most charming voice you can muster as you approach. “You look absolutely radiant today, I might add.”

Since you’re a newcomer to the tribe without skill in an applicable trade, for the last few weeks you’ve been here, you’ve been doing general odd-jobs. Some other orcs do this sort of work as well for various reasons, but it seems to be where everybody starts, outsiders included. You tend to favor the delivery jobs; you’ve always been quick, and they’re hard to mess up too badly.

“Oh stop, you’re such a sweetheart.” The elderly orc stops her work at the loom and stretches her leathery green hands out to take the bundle. She pauses when she sees the label, though, and immediately bursts out in raucous laughter.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, your soft, pointed ears flattening back against your head in dread.

“Hahah- Oh no, little one, that package is for the other Ghorza. Ghorza Gog-Burzog. The one that lives by the mill? It says right here…” She taps the text with her fingertip.

You swear internally as you make your way back across the entire settlement. Though the orcs here speak the universal tongue for the most part, all of their writing is in the Orcish alphabet, and while you’ve started to recognize some of it, you haven’t fully gotten the hang of reading it yet.

At least granny gave you a jar of her winter berry preserves to take home with you for your trouble.

This is not the first time this has happened today. What should’ve been a morning chore has taken you into the late afternoon. By the time the other Ghorza gets her package and you head back to the middle of the settlement, the sun is starting to paint the horizon with streaks of red, mocking you.

Maybe he’ll not be here and I can just… pick a quick, easy task from the board to finish before sundown. That way, I'll still make the job quota for today…

You cringe as you walk into the vestibule leading to the great hall, and are unable to miss Torg’s looming presence sitting in his attached office, the door propped wide open. You attempt to pass unnoticed by the open door, towards the job board posted right beside it, utilizing all of your skill in stealth trained over years of being an accomplished thief, to try to save yourself the misery.

Then he says your name, and you cringe, cursing internally before slinking back into view of the doorway.

It’s not that he’s rude or cruel to you, but he’s just so damn observant. You can barely do a task, it seems like, without him showing up to check on you. Half the time you’re surprised he’s not still watching you like a hawk while you sleep at night in your singles’ dormitory bunk- criticizing your method and ready to give terse advice on how to get better rest.

It’s like he’s just waiting for you to screw up. And when you do, because it is a question of when and not if- he’s right there to witness your incompetence and correct you.

“Where have you been?” Torg says gruffly, not looking up from the papers laid out in front of him. “It’s nearly evening.”

“There were… some complications.” You rub your neck.

“Got lost again, then?” If you didn’t know any better from his weary, disappointed tone, you could swear you see the edge of his lip twitch in amusement around his tusk.

“No!” You let out an exasperated sigh. "Simply a minor mix up. Don't you worry, I came back to take another job before the day's out. I’m not trying to slack."

"No need." He rises out of his chair, tidying up the papers a bit as he does. "I have a job you can help me with instead."

“What would that be?”

“Wort and I had kitchen duty for dinner tonight, but Wort sprained his ankle on a tree root earlier and can’t put weight on it for now. You will be joining me instead, so Cook doesn’t have to work on one of his nights off.”

“Er… I can’t say I have much experience cooking, but I’ll do my best.”

“Great. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

It doesn’t take long before you’ve arrived in the kitchen, washed up and donned aprons. 

Yours, of course, hangs halfway down your stomach, because this apron is designed for Orcish proportions. 

“Here.” Torg shakes his head with a sigh, motioning for you to come to him. “Turn around. I’ll shorten it.”

You comply and turn your back to him, and you feel his hands start tying the neck strap into a knot at the midpoint.

You barely manage to keep from audibly gulping in fear. This man could squash you like a bug with minimal effort, and you’re showing him the bare nape of your neck, completely defenseless. You would be shuddering in fear, but his fingers are surprisingly gentle against your skin as they work the fabric into a knot.

It’s sickeningly anxiety-inducing and oddly intimate- and then it’s over just like that.

“There you go.” He nods, then ducks into the pantry. He returns in a few moments, coming over with a huge basket of various tubers and leafy greens under his arm.

“Since you said you don’t have much experience, we’re going to keep things simple: Winter Root Stew.” He places the basket down with a soft thump. “How comfortable are you with using a knife?”

“I know my way around one.” Sure, you’re more used to cutting purse strings with them and not vegetables… But he doesn’t need to know that, right?

“Good. You’re going to peel and cut these, and then put them in the cauldron. Greens get washed and then go in later. Easy. I’ll be cooking the game that the hunters brought in earlier, if you need help.”

Work goes surprisingly fast, and your deft hands are soon slinging cut root vegetables into the bubbling bone stock at a snappy pace. In fact, things go so smoothly that you are surprised you've managed to complete the task without any unlucky hiccups. 

When you've finished, you're drawn to the other side of the kitchen by the sound of sizzling fat and the scent and browning meat. Torg is there, tending to a large, open oven. 

"That smell is heavenly."

Torg grunts in agreement, strong arms working to stoke the burning logs underneath.

The food here has been surprisingly good, especially after having it conditioned into you growing up in a more civilized town that Orcish cuisine surely must all be grey slop. It's definitely heavier than standard faire, but you've found that it has its own rustic charm- with its rich flavors, game meat, and tendency towards rib-sticking density- that's begun to grow on you.

“Venison. A few late winter fowl as well."

"Damn, who doesn't love a man who can cook…?" You sigh. 

Torg is oddly silent for a moment before letting out a small chuff of a laugh, then promptly changing the subject.

"Did you season the stew yet?" He brushes off your flattery with a wry smile.

"Ah, no I have not. What should I use?"

"Mostly salt. But some basic herbs and spices will be good enough." He points out the jars on the shelf to use and dictates what quantities, slowly and deliberately, since you can't fully read their labels yet.

"Okay, got it."

You confidently return to the prep area, mentally repeating a mantra of the ingredients and their amounts. You manage to collect most of the bottles just based on your sharp memory, until you come across the last needed ingredient. Two apparently identical versions of the same bottle sit side by side, even the labels looking nearly identical.

Urgh, which one is the ground mustard seed? They look the same…

Maybe there’s two bottles of it?

You chew your lip in thought, looking at the script on the bottle labels. The squiggles might as well be chicken scratch to you.

You peek back at Torg. He’s completely engrossed in basting the meat, with his back turned to you. 

You don’t want to bother him. You want to stay on his good side to keep your cover and not get kicked out before you’ve finished your job. But strangely, you also are beginning to harbor a strong desire to prove that you’re competent.

…Wait, it’s definitely this one. I recognize that letter!

You take the cap off and take a whiff. The familiar, pungent, biting scent fills you with confidence.

Yep! That’s mustard alright!

Now, how much did he say again…?

You can’t recall. So, you unceremoniously dump an enormous amount of each seasoning into the cauldron.

The more flavor the better, right? Plus, this is a huge pot…!

When you’re done, you help Torg with a few other easy tasks while everything finishes cooking. By the time the stew has had enough time to boil and meld together for a while, Torg is pulling the meat out to rest before slicing. 

He walks over to the cauldron to taste a small spoonful of the liquid.

Why are you suddenly filled with anxiety? It’s just vegetable stew, and you’re not even a real cook… But you find yourself dangling on a ledge waiting for his reaction.

“Hmgh-” He winces slightly, one bottom eyelid twitching, but quickly covers it with a small, tusky smile. “A little over seasoned- but not bad at all.”

“Really?” Your voice perks up.

“Yes. You did a good job.”

“...Thanks.” You can’t stop yourself from beaming.

Why is a bit of simple praise over such a menial task making you feel so happy…? Sure, you don’t exactly get praised that often, but still… You don’t need it…

You’re just here to do a job, you remind yourself. Once you figure out where the artifact you’ve been sent here for is, it’s the simple matter of getting your hands on it and getting out cleanly.

You don’t need to care about approval from any of these brutes in the least…

“Well then, let’s get this stuff out to be served.” Torg grabs the handle of the cauldron with both hands, lifting the heavy wrought iron vessel with barely any exertion besides a rough grunt. You’re nearly caught up contemplating the easy show of raw physical strength, before Torg’s instruction snaps you back to attention. “Grab some of the bread baskets and follow me.”

You comply, and soon you’re set up methodically ladling hot stew out of the cauldron and into the waiting wooden bowls of hungry orcs queued in the grub line.

This is… almost kind of nice?

No one is looking at you with pitying looks as you make another mistake or struggle to complete a task. Just a nod, maybe an appreciative grunt or mono-syllabic expression of approval, before they move on.

You can’t help but feel a pleasant, calm focus, and a boost to your self-esteem as you work through the line, working to the sounds of the lively dining hall.

Unfortunately, the peaceful sense of accomplishment is tragically short lived.

Suddenly, the good cheer of mealtime is disrupted as a loud tremor of havoc winds through the dining hall. Wooden chairs and benches and tables scrape loudly, some overturning and falling to the floor, though that’s barely audible over all of the booming voices yelling.

You’ve not really witnessed any brawling yet, despite being told to expect it; that orcs are violent and dole out black eyes and rip off earlobes with their teeth like it’s nothing, over the smallest of disputes.

This doesn’t seem like a brawl, though.

Torg swiftly leaves the serving line, immediately parting the crowd to get to the heart of the issue. You watch as a few different orcs are dragged outside by others, into the snow.

“Nothing else served!” One of the other orcs on the serving line barks after convening with someone that’s run over to them from closer to the commotion. You let the ladle rest on the edge of the cauldron, a sinking feeling from your throat to the pit of your stomach.

That’s how you find yourself sitting on a stool in the kitchen hours later, your hands bound with scratchy cord and two gruff, irritated looking orc guards watching you closely. 

Not long after, the huge, seething Chieftain returns to interrogate you. 

“What kind of poison was it?!” He roars as he storms into the room with a bang, the door threatening to explode off the hinges behind him.

“P-Poison?!” You barely squeak out. You shield your face with your hands, if only to dampen the larger man’s thunderous volume. 

“Don’t play dumb! Everyone who had a serving of the stew you made fell violently ill within minutes!” He gestures widely towards the door to the dining hall.

“I didn’t poison anyone! I wouldn't- !”

Poison has never been your style…

“Then explain! ” He snarls, nostrils flaring and teeth fully bared in anger. “What did you put in that stew?!”

Despite the yelling, you feel strangely safe. You don’t think this is going to get physical. You’ve never seen Torg get violent with anyone, and if anything, he seems to be struggling to keep his loud, expressive rage reeled back.

Moreover, during the interrogations you’ve endured at the hands of other authority figures in the past… the beating usually would’ve already started a while ago, if it was going to happen.

“N-Nothing, except what you told me to!” You whimper, quickly rattling off the list of spices you memorized like an incantation. “Salt, Pepper, Paprika, Dill, Mustard Seed-“

Torg turns, and his eyes scour the shelves of spices as you list off items. His hand hovers above the bottle of mustard seed, and after a moment of thought, he grabs both it, and the bottle beside it.

He brings them over, presenting both of the bottles to you. You lower your hands slightly to look at them.

“Tell me,” He says your name grimly, and takes a deep breath before asking his next question, voice still dripping with barely restrained rage. “Which of these is mustard seed?”

“That one.” You point to the bottle you used with your bound hands.

His shoulder jerks as if he’s about to fling the bottle to smash against the wall, but he apparently resists the urge, setting the bottle on the counter instead and releasing his white-knuckled grip on the lid.

“This is not mustard seed. It is bellow-seed.” He says through gritted teeth.

“Bellow-seed?”

“A spice made from a plant in the mustard family. Not a poison.” A bit of relief is clear in his voice and body language despite the clear vestiges of rage still burning inside.  “But in large quantities, it is a powerful emetic.”

You look at him blankly.

“It makes you empty your stomach.” He speaks slowly, forcefully annunciating each word. “Violently.”

“Oh, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You say weakly. “I- They were just right next to each other and I couldn’t read the label, but it smelled like mustard, so-”

“If you were unsure, you should have asked! I was right there!” He growls, his large palm finds the side of his head in disdain. “I told you to ask for help.”

You don’t have an answer for that, besides your inflated sense of ego and wanting to avoid your own embarrassment. You simply sit there pitifully, soft feline ears swiveled back in shame.

After a few moments of you failing to come up with an answer or excuse, Torg pinches his glabella and lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“...Did you do this on purpose?” He finally asks.

“No.” You look him directly in the eye and say with conviction.

Torg nods, then undoes the ropes holding your wrists together himself in tense silence.

“Is… everyone going to be okay?” You ask tentatively and rub the indentation on your wrist, the guilt of your mistake already eating at your conscience.

“You- go to tell Shaman-” He ignores your question and gives one of the guards orders, then the other. “And you, take him home. He stays there until morning, until his story is confirmed.”

You’re pulled to your feet, then lead back towards the dormitory. As you trudge through the snow, you can’t shake the feeling of guilt. It follows you all the way back to your dormitory, and weighs on your chest as you’re finally in bed for the night, tossing and turning.

What’s your punishment going to be? Surely, nothing good. And sure, your cover didn’t get blown yet, but they still might exile you for putting people in danger, and you wouldn’t be able to finish the job- 

What’s your guildmaster going to do when word gets back that you ruined the one chance to do the job? Fritz has never been the most understanding when it comes to failure.

You suppose you could just go on the run if you fail, but… you have a feeling that messing up such a big job will earn you a grudge, and he has a well-earned reputation for not letting those go. You doubt you’d get very far without the past coming back to haunt you.

You heave a sigh.

More importantly… What if you really hurt someone with your seasoning mishap? Usually the only one paying for your mistakes is you…

 You don’t sleep well that night.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST

[threeclans]

hi there! trove anon again <3 are their names limited in anyway? in a sense if they have any first names that may be considered 'taboo' or How they name in the first place! Is it based off of appearance? their surroundings? just vibes and energy ? on that same note, are suffixes also open ended or is there a list for each of the seasons :0 sorry for all the questions, the naming system just sounds so unique and i didn't want to flood with lore/system questions too quickly haha

Hi there! As far as Trove naming goes, guidelines and limits do exist to some extent, though the specifics again take a form unlike clan names as we have our own guide for what may be applicable in the ranks of warriors.

Generally, the first guideline is that the Trove will always accept names that are of natural origin — think things like categories of animals, plants, weather, etc. — and will generally ask for any cat bearing a "kittypet" or "loner" name (so if a cat was named Minnie Mouse, for example) to change their name / take on a new prefix when they join.

Unlike the clans which do tend to prioritize appearance based names, the Trove does not inherently focus on such a thing; generally, it is common for associations to be drawn (an orange cat being named Flame, a gray cat being named Jay) but oftentimes the Trove will name for other associations with prefixes or will choose a prefix that has no natural link to a color, such as something like Swoop, Quiet, or Drift, all prefixes present in the Trove currently.

The most rigid naming gets in the Trove is definitely in the form of suffixes, which are split by association with season. Each season is given a list of suffixes to choose from. Members are free to suggest new suffixes to be added and adapted onto these lists at any time as the Trove is a group which has taken on new names through the form of suffixes before; Mods will, of course, have to discuss any new name suggestions and whether we feel they are apt for a particular season before an official addition is made, but the option for growth is always there! As a small sampling, I'll list a handful of suffixes in the form of names of Trove cats from each season below. A complete list will inevitably be available for anyone hoping to apply!

For Summer names, we have Shadow Chaser, Lucky Streak, and Howling Dusk.

For Fall names, we have Wandering Soul, Butterfly Song, and Gale Moon.

For Winter names, we have Screeching Fury, Coiling Pool, and Sheep Strike.

For Spring names, we have Hound Belly, Hopping Rabbit, and Potato Sprout.

As you can see, some of these names are a simple first part and second part, while others utilize the incorporation of adding "-ing" to a prefix originally shorter (Howl, Wander, Screech, Coil) to make the name flow further. In the case of Hopping Rabbit, there is the unique utilization of a Spring suffix, -Hop, being transformed to a prefix, which is something that may be done as well, so long as the suffix remains within its appropriate season. For example, the suffix "-Flame" is a Summer suffix; one could utilize it to name a Summer-born cat, Wolf, Flaming Wolf.

Another naming tidbit is that leaders all bear a suffix specific to their season. Summer leaders are given -Sun, Fall leaders -Leaf, Winter leaders -Frost, and Spring leaders -Breeze. Currently, the Trove leaders are Silver Sun, Whistling Leaf, Dandelion Frost, and Rose Breeze.

The only names that might be considered "taboo" to take on would be those of the original four leaders / "founders" of the Trove according to their origin story. Though leader names honor them through suffixes, it's certainly seen as a bit out of pocket to take on their prefixes; they were named Speckled Sun, Furled Leaf, Blizzard Frost, and Whispering Breeze.

Mod Maya

[icieashie606]

'tis the season for winter fits ༘⋆🤍🌨️❄️₊˚ෆ

chic chronicles, episode 2

Heyyy, welcome back to another episode! Currently living in the area of Chicago today we experienced our first snow! I was super super excited but then realised "wait... what do I even wear?!" It gets extremely cold here, especially with the wind chill. This episode's intention is to suggest a couple of fit basics that you can wear while still staying warm and not freezing yourself! Also don't forget to use my code ICIEASHIE30066 on your next YESSTYLE ORDER for a DISCOUNT!

note: Before we start these are just suggestions so remember to ALWAYS prioritise your health first and staying cozy and warm when out. 𓍢ִ໋☕️✧˚ ༘ ⋆

1. With winter, its all about layering up. Basics would include thermals (my suggestion would be to get neutral colored ones - so white, black or beige would be ideal), a hat (of course, to keep the cold out!), a scarf and gloves! For all of these my main colour recommendations would be black, white or beige or more pastel-y colours. I feel like these colours are the best colours to work around when planning outfits! Earmuffs are also a perfect addition if you don't want to wear a hat. It's important to make sure your neck and ears are covered to ensure the most comfort and to not fall sick, cause we don't want that.

2. Jackets/Coats are the CRUCIALL!!! With this go out with whatever colour suits your personal style! Personally, I have a white Calvin Klein Coat for winter as well as a Black and Light Brown Coat with fur. Puffy Jackets that have an inner layer of fleece LOOK and FEEL amazing. Fleece jackets themselves are a great choice!

An example of these would look like (taken from YESSTYLE):

3. The bottom half of your body could either be adorned with a skirt or a pant. If wearing pants, I would suggest getting looser pants like sweatpants or jeans (that aren't a tight fit) so that you can wear your thermals underneath them without them fitting too tight and uncomfortable. These would be more applicable to colder windier weathers (like chicago) but if it isn't too cold then any pants would do as long as they keep you warm! In the case of skirts, who said you couldn't wear them? That's a lie! The best way to keep yourself warm and look cute while wearing skirts would be to get yourself a pair of fleece tights! FLEECE TIGHTS, I swear are a life-saver AAA. They keep you perfectly warm and you can wear a skirt underneath them. I would suggest to not get skin colour as they can appear a bit off (colour-wise) but, definitely go for colours like Black or Coffee Brown/Dark Brown. Remember to get ones that are thick and protect your legs and are a good quality!

4. Shoes time! If it snows like crazy maybe invest in waterproof snow boots that are thick and cover more than just your ankle length. If you've experienced winter or grown up in those kind of places you should already be having these! One of the ones I have when its not too cold or snowing are these knee high leather boots and you can even pair them with cute leg warmers:

But during snow I recently just got these cute chunky snow boots:

And chicettes that's your main necessities for winter! Remember to make adjustments according to your style/preference and weather regulations! Being stylish n warm during winter is a deadly combination. Thanks for making it to the end and see you next time!

~ sleepy angel 606 over and out. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

PS: (all pictures taken from pinterest cr to owners)

[darkpokemonspecialist]

How does one become a Gym Leader?

First off, it varies by region, as usual. Some regions, like Galar, allow retired gym leaders to hand pick their successors. Most regions, however, have an application process.

I'll explain the process for my region, Illona.

First, there's a written or online application. Here's an example of the first page of the form I would have had to fill out before everything went digital.

I cannot show you the full application because after this page because it goes into a written exam, and they don't want the full exam leaking. There are some multiple choice questions, a short essay section, and some True or False.

If you pass the written (or typed) portion, then you must battle three instructors in a row.

While battling, the current gym leaders will be part of the panel of judges. Your score will be compared to other applicants.

If you are chosen, once assigned to a gym the retiring gym leader from that gym can make you pick a different Pokemon type to specialize in if the gym is designed to reflect the culture of the town they are in. For example, Ventosa City is known for it's windy atmosphere, so if I get assigned there, the previous leader can make me specialize in Flying type Pokemon instead of Dark. Or if I end up in Farhen, I will DEFINITELY be told I have to switch to Ice Types since it's home to the famous winter festival.

So yeah, that's the gist of the process

[catchingbigfish]

calmwrimo intro post

i loooooovelovelove this idea started by @winterandwords to participate in nano at your own pace and add a self-care goal into the mix, so i'm definitely jumping on board.

i don't usually struggle with nano levels of output once i have a concrete outline in place, but i do struggle to get writing done when i'm working on other creative outlets and i'm going to be sewing my wedding dress in the coming weeks, which will definitely drain a lot of that creative energy, and i'm going to be working on my seminar paper all of november ... so being more realistic is super important right now so i don't burn out. plus, my self-care practices have really fallen to the side in the last few months, so! what a fantastic idea, and thank you again winter for the push to do this!!

writing goals

i'm going to be working on I Tried To Bury You (TTB), the religious-themed novella i've been working on outlining and sparse drafting over the last six or so weeks. (@ my beloved alpha reader applicants: i promise Conversion is still alive; i just reached a plateau and have back-burnered it for a few weeks!) my seminar paper will actually be looking at christian rhetorics, particularly deconstruction and how women discuss their reasons for leaving their faith communities; that topic dovetails quite well with TTB, so i'm giving myself a bit of a cheat with goal one.

do something daily that helps with TTB progress; if i work on my seminar paper, that technically counts towards this goal, since a lot of the same themes are present!

write 5,000 words per week on TTB

stretch goal: write at least 100 words per day

self-care goals

i've reaaaaally fallen off my best self-care habits, so i want to use november to really get back on the wagon and justify my continued subscription to The Underbelly:

do yoga three times per week

journal three times per week (esp on moon phases! i don't practice any spirituality but i love the idea of following a moon-based calendar so this would be a great way to get back into that)

stretch goal: one self-care act per day (yoga and journaling count, as do all the other things that are like preventative maintenance for my body -- nice smelling showers and bubble baths, meal prepping and batch cooking, not eating hot cheetos no matter how much i want them since they give me headaches, spending time outside, etc.)

also, i'm going to follow the #calmwrimo hashtag and try to reblog something most days, as posts allow!