#dont mess with the baddies
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spidey-official · 1 year ago
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ms. Romanoff is the KINDEST person ever no matter what anyone says!!!! she just sat next to me on the couch, and she let me rant about my day and didn't even stop me when I went off on tangents!!!!! she asked questions!!!!!!!!! she said we should hang out more often, AND she said she could train me in hand-to-hand!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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peridotamethyst · 4 months ago
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Be careful to not get on my bad side 😡
You might just find out what my Despicable Me is truly like 😈
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yuriisclumsy · 5 months ago
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hii! How are you darling :)
Can i request a crack/ funny and fluffy cale x pregnant reader ? Like she is a few months pregnant, so cale and the kids always lay with her and dont let her do much.
Ofc the others are overprotective of her, bc like shes clumsy😭 like always falling down the stairs, nose bleeds (me core) and she watched everyone panic while looking at them with a deadpanned look bc
1. Shes a baddie whos to hot to die
2.the baby is fine and alive
And cale is loosing his mind bc he cannot leave her alone for two mins bc she will somehow make even more trouble simply bc shes ✨just a girl ✨
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Stay still, will you?
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:1,267
»»►This is a funny scenario. I like to think Cale is a super, over the top, overprotective, man. If you mess with those he cares about or loves, you’re about to find yourself in an interesting situation. 
»»►But when Cale finds out he’s going to be a papa, he goes wild. Forget accepting whatever mission the crown prince wants him to do, he needs to be right next to his wife–24/7. 
»»►And let’s be honest with ourselves, this man would literally take this chance to laze around even more. This is the life he wanted, no? 
»»►Oh, but his dear wife doesn’t like sitting still for more than a minute. This is torture for her—but can’t do anything about it because her husband and (adopted)kids want her to relax and take care of herself and the baby. 
»»►But, why? You may ask. That’s for the single fact that she is clumsy (hey just like me!). She crashes stuff, trips, falls, hurts herself—according to Cale and the others—she denies such accusations—and last but not least, she gets herself in trouble. 
»»►So, yeah. [Name] have no “stepping outside the state” privileges until after the baby is here physically. But [Name] is a tough cookie. She can handle herself when no-one is around. So—to everyone’s dismay—she goes outside one day. It’s just to stroll around and see what has progressed in Harris Village. 
»»►One thing to note: she didn’t tell a soul about her outing. 
»»►Now imagine Cale’s face when he comes back to see the staff panicking for the whereabouts of his wife. 
»»►Let's just say…it was chaotic that day. 
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“Woah, that looks tasty...!” [Name] drooled at the sight. 
“Good morning, lady [Name]! What can I get you today?” The shop owner greeted [Name] with a smile. 
“Can I have this please?” [Name] pointed to one of the delicacies of the bakery. It was a croissant-looking-bread stuffed full of chocolate. 
The owner of the bakery gave her a bag filled with what she ordered. “Here you go! Please come back soon!” the owner waved goodbye. 
“I will!” She waved back at the owner. [Name] took one of the baked goods and began to eat it.  
“I wonder how everyone is doing at the state.” 
… 
“LADY [NAME]!” 
“M’lady! Where are you?!” 
“Does anyone remember the last place [Name] went to?!” 
“M’lady, please be okay!” 
Currently, everyone is in a frenzy. The lady of the house was nowhere to be found, and everyone and their mothers were running like headless chickens in search of her. And if they did not find her, their master was going to kill them! 
“What is with the commotion here?” a voice spoke from the entrance of the manor. 
Everything stopped. Slowly, the housekeepers and butlers turned their heads towards the voice. They knew this voice. Very well in fact. Although they grew to like it, right now, they wish they didn’t hear it. They prayed that it was a ghost. Dread overtook them as they saw the voice’s owner. 
Cale Henituse. Their young master. And the husband of the manor’s lady they were trying to find. 
“So? Is anyone going to tell me why you are all running like the world just ended?” Cale spoke. 
Who was mad enough to even dare to tell the young master that his wife magically disappeared? Not me. And not anyone in this room.  
Yet a brave soul stood up and spoke. May he rest in peace. 
“Ah…y-young mater Cale,” a young butler went forward and vowed, stammering in his word, “we..uh…. Can’t find lady [Name] anywhere...?” 
“...” 
“...” 
It was deafeningly silent. No one moved an inch, waiting—waiting for the order to execute them. They fully accepted their fate. 
“Well, what are you all just standing there for?” he spoke, breaking the iceberg. 
“Huh?” 
“Standing still isn't going to bring back [Name].” He stood there, staring at the crowd. 
He was right. 
They needed to get back to searching for Lady [Name]!  
A chorus of ‘yes, sir!�� was heard before a horde of housekeepers and butlers left in search of their Lady. 
“*sigh* Why are you like this [Name]...?” Cale whispered and looked up. He slowly walked to the exit of the manor heading to the town; the children followed after him–this included Choi Han. 
“Master Cale, where are you going?” Hans asked. 
“I’m going to the market area in the town,” he said, not bothering to look back. “Ron, make my bed as comfortable as you can make, will you?” 
“Yes, young master.” Ron responded. 
“Great.” 
… 
Lovely day for [Name] sitting in the shade of an umbrella and her delicious foods. Going from one shop to another, she had managed to gather a lot of food. She had gone overboard again, yes, but the baby she was carrying and her were happy. Who could ever disturb such happiness? 
“[Name].” A male voice called her name firmly from behind. 
Of course. The only person that could was her husband. [Name] knew he only meant good, but right now he had broken that tranquility. 
“Oh! Cale, love, darling, how are you...?” [Name] turned and looked at him nervously. The children had gathered around her–with Raon being invisible naturally. 
“[Name]...” Cale rubbed the temples of his face before sighing, “why are you out?” he asked sternly. 
“Well clearly, I was taking a walk. And I bought some snacks on the way.” She answered, petting both Hong and Raon while On made herself comfortable in her lap. 
“What–no. That’s not what I meant.” 
“You asked why I was out, and I told you why.” 
“You know exactly why I asked that.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” [Name] gave the children the treats she had bought earlier. 
“[Name], please. You know how dangerous it is for you to be here right now. You are due at any point now! And I just…agh..I just want you to stay safe.” He said in frustration. 
[Name] looked at him, feeling a bit guilty that he is like that. She had reached her ninth month a week ago, making this month the most crucial. She just didn’t want to stay locked up in her room all the time. It was something that did not sit right with her. 
“I’m sorry…” [Name] looked down in shame. 
“I…*sigh* You are going to be the death of me.” Cale came closer to her and placed his hands underneath her. 
“Hu-huh? Cale? What are you doing?” panicking a little before realizing he was going to carry her. 
“Carry you, obviously.” He scuffed. “We’re going back to the manor.” 
“Aww…can’t we go to another shop? It’ll be the last one, I promise!” Her begging went to deaf ears. He wasn’t letting her get away with it, so she started to wiggle her way out his arm. 
“Stay still, will you?” 
“Not until I get my last treat.” 
“*sight…* Fine. But you’ll have it after dinner. Dinner is going to be served soon.” Cale said while walking to the nearest candy shop. 
“Mmmm, I'm fine with that. Oh! Choi Han, hello. Sorry, I didn’t notice you there.” 
“It’s fine lady [Name].” Choi Han gave her a small nod. 
“Moooom…I want a treat too!” 
“I also want one!” 
“The great Roan Miru will get one too, right?” 
“Wait a second. Since when do they call you mom?” Cale asked in confusion. 
“Yes, yes. All of you will get one.” 
“Don’t ignore me.” 
Choi Han giggled as Cale continued to ask and get ignored by them. 
Fin 
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lisired · 8 months ago
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pretty little weapon
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pairing: undercover cop!mark x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, organized crime, cop x criminal, graphic depictions of blood and violence, mentions of death, smut, choking, oral (f receiving), biting, a pinch of angst, mentions of pregnancy-related death, unprotected sex (dont b silly, wrap ur willy!), vague mentions of sexual assault
summary: A lifetime worth of adversity had brought you to Bloodlust. You joined them to escape your history, but with Mark Lee - an undercover narcotics agent with a secret to keep - comes the threat of being forced to confront your past. Old wounds are opened, but scars heal.
word count: 25.7k (…i have nothing to say for myself.)
a/n: inspired by PLW by leon thomas, bad news by kehlani, and perfect crime by tinashe! bon appetite! I did this on a whim. read this with the 2 baddies styling concept in mind. as always, feedback is appreciated!
You were going to be absolutely livid if Yuta didn’t up your pay.
After a long night of work, you anticipated crawling into your sheets. Then waking up to a large sum of money deposited into your account in the morning as courtesy of your hard work.
That never happened.
“This was not in the job description,” you complained to your boss. Though there was technically never a clock for you to be on, you had already firmly clocked out. And when he invited you on this escapade, you were inclined to deny. But he was nothing if not unrelenting.
Yuta smirked and brushed you off. “You do stone cold murder for a living, baby. This is what you signed yourself up for the moment you killed somebody.”
God, you hated when he was right. Sometimes all you ever wanted to do was argue with whatever he said. Moments like this when he began cutting down on your downtime.
Soaring through flocks of people, you kept very close to Yuta’s side, his arm firm around you. People knew not to mess with him, and thus anyone considered his associate. That was one of the beauties of working for Bloodlust, you supposed. As long as you were loyal and faithful to them, you were guaranteed total protection and discretion against anyone.
The tale of how you secured a job of this nature in the first place was relatively simple. You were scouting the streets as usual, given it was the only home you’d known. Violence was absolutely nothing new to you as you had been in your fair share of street gangs prior to Bloodlust. But one thing led to another and you had blood on your hands in an act of self defense. Specifically the blood of your own fellow gangster.
Just your luck, Yuta witnessed the scene. He was a stranger at the time, some shady man offering help that looked like nothing short of trouble. You found yourself surprised that you even took his deal, but you weren’t left with any alternatives. Going back to the gang was not an option; there was no telling how the leader would respond to the blood of your superior being on your very hands. There was no mercy there.
Yuta vowed to cover for you, but you would perpetually owe him in return. You were expecting something more lewd when he informed you that you would be working for him, though you did nothing of the sort. Yuta took you under his wing and handed you a job as a contract killer.
And the rest was history.
You hurdled closer to his chest, pursuing warmth. Given the hour and the season, the outdoors were becoming frostier. You exhaled and saw your breath condensing in the air.
“Stay put,” Yuta said. As if you would run off anywhere. You were tempted, though you weren’t stupid. And though you would never admit it to his face, you loved the street races.
After you nodded, Yuta parted without having to worm his way through the crowd. They respected him, though most of it was out of pure fear. They made way for him whenever they saw him approaching.
You eyed the roads while you waited. The street races were one of your favorite aspects of the gang. They were orchestrated by Yuta and were a great source of profit overall. But watching them was the part you were fond of.
One of the cars before you caught your eye - a neon green Porsche. You had barely laid a finger on the exterior before you were forcibly knocked backwards, your face slung to the other side.
You held your cheek in your palm, adrenaline pumping through your veins. There was no immediate pain. You didn’t even feel like you were in your body. You could only stumble as you grasped to process what happened.
A visibly upset man - one of the racers - was waving his fist at you, screaming this profanity and that, but from the looks of it you hadn’t left as much as a scratch on his car. And if he thought he was going to intimidate you, he had another thing coming. Brutal adrenaline came over you and you socked him square in the jaw. Harder.
The racer was knocked to the ground by the force. “You’re gonna regret that,” he growled. You merely laughed. It was comical and you almost took pity on him. This guy clearly had no idea what forces were on your side. Not until he noticed Yuta and Johnny beginning to rush in his direction and he bolted.
The gang had very simple rules and even simpler consequences. If you disobeyed, you died. They were so simple that if you violated them, they read it as an act of defiance. The most obvious rule was to respect the high-ranks and their associates. The second was to comply, or your punishment would be fatal.
Another man came to your side and lowered you to the ground for inspection. This one you didn’t recognize at all. “Yo, are you okay?”
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” you said, moving your fingers from your cheek to your lips. When you glanced down at them, you saw blood.
The stranger handed you a napkin. “Here.”
You took it and wiped your mouth, and thus the blood at the corner of your lips. That was one hell of a punch. Rather than feeling pain, you were in a state of immobilizing shock.
“Thanks, uh…,” you squinted your eyes, running his face through the facial recognition system installed in your memory. But you came short. Which was surprising, because you always remembered the faces of the regulars.
“Mark,” the stranger finished. Then he flashed you a smile. “It’s nothing. You should get that checked out, though. Make sure nothing’s broken or fractured.”
You nodded. As a result of uttering any speech, you noticed that your jaw slightly ached when you spoke. For fuck’s sake. None of this would have happened if you were in your bed.
Then Mark disappeared. And you had no time to think before you heard a piercing noise.
Gunshots rang in the distance and you weren’t at all surprised to see Yuta and Johnny return with sinister looks on their faces. Yuta helped you to your feet and asked, “You good, Scar?”
Scar was the alias you’d been granted after Yuta noticed the scar on your stomach. Rather than finding it odd, he was astonished by it. Which was so utterly Yuta of him. The alias served no other purpose than maintaining your confidentiality, but Yuta always thought it had a nice ring to it.
“Not the first time I’ve been punched. I think I’m gonna be fine,” you assured him. The gods had blessed you with an unholy pain tolerance, which all your tattoos were a testament to. You remembered the matching one you got with Yuta and subconsciously smiled.
Friends like Yuta were, needless to say, rare.
All of the evil melted from Yuta’s face and he chuckled. “You’re a tough woman.”
“You love it.”
“I do.” Yuta curled his arm around you again. You were certain he was going to cuff one of your hands to his arm and never let you out of his sight again. “I was surprised that you didn’t finish that guy then and there. You took a pretty mean punch, babe. Must’ve been too shocked.”
That you were. But he was taking a nice load of bullets to the head before you even got the chance.
After the races were over and the roads were cleared out, you followed Yuta to his car. You suddenly had a thought once you hit the road.
“Yuta, do you know someone named Mark?”
Yuta furrowed his brows. “Nah. Why?”
Your heart sank. “Fuck.”
He glanced at you for a split second before returning his eyes to the road, but asked, “What’s wrong?”
“There was this guy at the race. He helped me and gave me a napkin to wipe the blood off of my face, but I didn’t recognize him. He told me his name was Mark.”
Yuta was alarmed. Just as you expected. It was one thing if you didn’t recognize a person at one of the gang’s events, but not Yuta. He had to ensure the attendee’s identities were closely monitored for everyone’s sake.
“Fucking hell?” Yuta handed you his phone and said, “Call Jaemin for me and tell him to look into the records. Maybe it slipped my mind. Let’s not jump to any conclusions, okay?”
You nodded your head and did as told, pressing his phone to your ear. Jaemin told you that he was AFK but would run a search as soon as he got back to the headquarters. Yuta dropped you off promptly and assured you that he’d call you with an update first thing in the morning.
Which only left you to wait.
In the morning, Yuta called you into his office, and you were immensely surprised to see not only him but Ten and Taeyong waiting for you in the room. Technically, you didn’t work for Bloodlust as a whole. There was a team of hitmen that worked specifically under one high-rank, though you were Yuta’s subordinate. Thus, encounters with other high-ranks were rare. Especially the leader.
Taeyong was the leader and the one at the helm of the entire gang. He inherited the title by succession to the metaphorical throne through descent. Yuta was his right-hand man, though given Taeyong rarely stepped out of the shadows unless absolutely necessary, Yuta being perceived as the leader was a popular misconception to outsiders and law enforcement. Which was completely deliberate. The less law enforcement knew, the better. It also made the task of differentiating interlopers from legitimates much lighter.
Ten was the gang’s personal spy. Their eyes to the other world. Just like any other high-rank, he directly supervised an entire branch of people pertaining to his title. Essentially, he was the leader of a team of criminal agents.
None of that explained why they were here, though.
As it was in your best interest, you greeted the three of them very politely. Though Yuta had a threatening position, you were close enough to be informal. Those freedoms didn’t apply to Ten and the leader. They might have been as good as strangers, but considering their influence in the underworld, they could have ended your life and career in an instant if they so pleased.
Glancing at Yuta, you said, “You called me, Boss?”
Yuta resisted a smirk at your attempts to be formal. You never called him ‘Boss’. “I did. I had Jaemin follow up on the Mark guy. We found something recent about him in our records.”
Ten interjected, “But I had a buy-off of mine’s confirm his real identity. He’s a Lee Minhyung. An undercover narcotics agent once tasked with tracking down a drug empire, and now that he shut them down we believe he’s moved on to attempting to infiltrate our ranks.”
Your blood ran cold. Frozen over in your veins. Forever grateful were you that you were excellent at maintaining your composure. Otherwise you would have panicked.
Taeyong stood at the far end of the pair. You had heard numerous things about him, but you were left gasping for air every time you saw him in person. If looks could kill, you would’ve been six feet under. Taeyong continued, “I’m sure you can guess why this is an urgent problem for us. It is my direct responsibility to protect the identities of those that put their faith in this gang and ensure their confidentiality. Now that we have a cop meddling in our affairs, that complicates things.”
That was to put it simply. The police infiltrating their territory was a direct threat imposed to the future of the empire. The moment the diplomacy was dismantled, so was the entire gang. Bloodlust in itself was intended to be an enigma. The purpose of hiring hitmen and establishing them by individual aliases was to deliberately make it difficult to link crimes to the gang. In return, your genuine identities were concealed. There was too much at stake to remain idle.
You supposed it made sense that Mark was kind to you. That made it easier to gain people’s trust. Though in the underworld, it made you look suspicious. Which led you to another question; if he was benevolent to you, did that mean you were specifically targeted?
You leaned forward in your chair and asked, “What does he know about the gang?”
“That’s where we hit a dead end,” said Ten, frustrated thoroughly. Whatever information they were relaying to you was everything they knew themselves. “Since he engaged with you, we considered that he might have a lead on you. If that’s true, most likely he’ll interact with you again given the opportunity.”
That didn’t alarm you. For most of your life, you’d lived on the edge, and that was especially true when you were a member of those prior street gangs. If your old friends sold you out, you wouldn’t be surprised. Yuta informed you early on that Bloodlust could keep your future under lock and key, though not your past.
But you were very suspicious. They wanted something out of you, that much was clear. Something significant. There was no other reason why the leader himself was before you. Though what?
“With all due respect, I don’t understand my involvement in this.”
Taeyong was straightforward. “We want you to play along.”
You nearly gawked. “Excuse me?”
He wasn’t the least bit bothered by you and continued, “The best way to fight fire is with fire. If Lee Minhyung wants to use you as his means of conveying intel, then let him, but lead him astray while doing so.”
In short, they wanted you to give Mark false information. Which steered far from your line of work. Why they chose you for the job in spite of having people actually equipped for the task was a mystery. Yuta was not kidding when he said that you signed yourself up for additional labor the moment you killed somebody. 
Frowning, you tried to stave them off. “You’re just gonna send a girl with no prior experience into the wild?”
“Must I remind you that we have full access and authority to all of your history stored in our records?” Ten sneered in amusement. “Think of it as a resume. It’s been a few years, but yours was very memorable. This wouldn’t be your first mole job.”
That was true. Anyone recruited to work for the gang was required to give a complete rundown of their history. Even recruits like you that didn’t respond to them directly. They made it very clear that lying would have put you in an early grave; Bloodlust had eyes everywhere.
“And you wouldn’t be uncompensated. I’ll triple your pay,” Yuta added.
That had your undivided attention. “I’m listening.”
Yuta fought a snicker. He expected nothing less. “We know that this isn’t what you usually do, but the job is very simple. It’s expected that he’ll try to extract information from you, so give him the wrong info. At the same time, try to figure out what he knows and what he wants. There’s a motive behind him targeting you and until we can confirm otherwise, we have to assume you’re his prey and he has valuable intel in his possession.”
“Why not just kill him upfront?”
“He might be valuable,” came Ten’s reply. “Whatever he knows, it’s safe to assume that he isn’t the only one.”
“We will be closely monitoring the entire empire for any turncoats, but he’s not alone. He has a partner,” warned Taeyong with a hefty stare. “So you have to be cautious about what you say to him.”
Ten began to get impatient and said, “So, do we have a deal?”
Tapping the arms of the office chair, you pretended to mull the proposition over although you had already made your decision. If their motive in collectively ganging up against you was to make you feel pressured into agreeing, you were almost inclined to decline the offer out of pure spite. But the genuine interest you had in the assignment discouraged you. There was too much at stake to play games.
There’s no good reason to decline, you decided halfway through the offer. Exposing yourself to law enforcement might’ve seemed too risky, but law enforcement potentially exposing you was even riskier. And you were no stranger to games of deception. Devising devious stratagems was one of the first skills you acquired.
You feigned indifference and replied, “Fine. I’ll play make-believe with the boy with a death wish.”
Yuta failed to resist his snicker this time, but it was true. Bloodlust gained its name for a special reason. For over a decade they had climbed their way to the top and were successful because they had no mercy for those that crossed them. You had faith that this was going to end with Mark having a bullet put through his brain.
After all, he wouldn’t be the first. Just another casualty.
Ten smiled, satisfied. His smile was alluring though likely deceptive, although you expected nothing less from the head of Bloodlust’s criminal agents himself. You had a feeling he was the one that suggested cornering you. “Good. You’re probably already aware that I administrate the spy squad. You won’t be working for me per se, but Jaemin and I will serve as your resources.”
Jaemin was another high-rank, the hacker and leader of their general technology team. If you ever thought you had hid a file or record from him; think again. In all your years of working for Yuta, you had never even caught a glimpse of the man’s face in person. He could only be spotted somewhere with a signal yet caved away.
You left that room with a mission. Jaemin had ID’d Mark’s partner and sent you a full report on them. Lee Minhyung, twenty-three, one of the youngest in his division and yet one of the most accomplished. He had spent merely three months undercover to overthrow a drug empire, and now he was scouting the big shots. Lee Jeno, twenty-two, and fresh out of the training program. There wasn’t much on him, obviously, but according to his evaluations, he had ambitions and was following in Mark’s footsteps.
Frankly, you were impressed. The reason neither of them had been detected until now was because they signed up the rightful way. No one suspected anything was amiss because their department created fake ID’s and hid their authentic ones. Nothing that Jaemin couldn’t find, though.
Needless to say, you had your work cut out for you.
The next time you saw Mark Lee was at another street race event. According to Jaemin, Mark and his partner were fresh recruits and had only been present for a few days at best, though he had quickly decided that the races were his favorite hunting grounds.
For a cop, Mark was remarkably easy to spot in a crowd, but he was playing the criminal role well enough. He had red hair that burned brightly and dressed the flashy part. You had yet to see him without a Cuban link.
You approached him and greeted, “‘Sup, Markie.”
Mark raised a brow. “Markie?”
“Do you not like it?” you asked, smiling innocently. You inched in on him, but left a safe distance between you two. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable by invading his personal space. “How about Marco? Or Markus? Even better - Little Red Riding Hood.”
Mark snickered. “Markie is fine. Thank you, Tony Stark,” he quipped.
“MCU fan?”
“You bet.”
He genuinely piqued your interest at that. Maybe pretending to like him wouldn’t be so hard. You breathed, “I love you already.”
He laughed. Then concern washed over his face. “Hey, your face okay?”
“Yup,” you replied, giving him a thumbs up. “I got it checked out like you said. Nothing broken or fractured. It’s a little sore, but I’ll be good as new in a couple days.”
“You’re a tough cookie,” he complimented.
You chortled. “So I’ve heard.”
With a broad smile, Mark continued, “That was one hell of a punch you landed on that dude, though. Knocked the guy flat on the ground. Where’d you learn how to fight like that?”
Here came the invasiveness. You decided to be as vague as possible about your past - and current - gang affiliations. You shrugged. “The streets. Polished my skills in the fighting ring, though.”
“There’s a fighting ring?”
“Oh, no wonder I’ve never seen you around these parts before. You’re a total newbie,” you laughed, shaking your head.
“It’s only my fourth day out here,” Mark told you. Which was the truth. You were very unsurprised to find he was taken under the drug trafficking operation, which was ran by Jisung. “Yo, I never caught your name.”
You gave Mark your name, although you had a feeling he already knew. Jaemin and Ten were actively working together to uncover everything the unit had on you and the gang.
“I can show you the ropes,” you offered. Given where he stood, you knew those words alone had him hooked on you. It was safe to assume the drug empire was his primary, but offering him the gang’s additional means of money-making on a silver platter would have any officer’s mouth watering. “Take you on a tour. The gang has plenty of places to kill time while simultaneously making hella cash off of them.”
Mark’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “Smart business. I might just take you up on that.”
“Bloodlust is all about smart business,” you remarked. Then, you began to do some prying of your own. It wasn’t all that risky to give up some of their territory, but everything came with a price. “Say - who did Boss put you under?”
“The Jisung guy. Drugs.” Mark shrugged. “Nothing major. They don’t trust newbies directly with the hardcore shit, and for good reason. But he told me that it’ll pay well, and if I stick around long enough, I can work my way up.”
Of course, it paid very well. No matter how low-ranking the position. They were trafficking illegal drugs and substances. It was one of their most lucrative branches.
You also hadn’t failed to notice how Mark mentioned that if he stayed long enough, he could work his way higher. That was common knowledge, though you doubted he was unaware of how problematic leaving a gang was. He had the prior experience, and even on his last mission he didn’t vacate the syndicate until he successfully seized the ranks. In other words, he wasn’t withdrawing until he had shot the entire gang down by its very heart and core.
Which was the inner circle.
That was a pressing reminder to keep your guard up. Though Mark seemed likable, it was very intentional. You knew he wouldn’t hesitate to persecute you to the highest extent of the law and you would maintain that same lack of mercy.
You played along, bobbing your head. “Met the boss yet?”
Mark shot you a wince. “Not formally. And I’ve heard around that the less I see of Lee Taeyong, the better. What’s up with that?”
“Taeyong likes to deliver his messages up close and personal,” you cautioned. “He only comes out if absolutely necessary. Getting a personal message from the big boss only happens if you’re going around wreaking havoc.”
“No warning?”
You smiled, but the sinister undertone in your voice was very evident, “If he sends anyone else but himself, that is a warning.”
You didn’t feel pressured to make your insinuations very subtle, because you were Mark’s only hope. The gangsters weren’t exactly inviting. They were very cynical, tight-lipped, and kept small circles because another one of the most important rules was confidentiality and they dreaded facing exposure.
For the most part, people who received direct messages from Taeyong didn’t make it out alive. For that reason, you did not underestimate Mark, but you were certain he had underestimated the gang. Even if you hadn’t discovered him yourself, they would have in approximately the same amount of time.
Mark showed no fear and kept the conversation light-hearted, but the glimmer in his eyes suggested he took that as a challenge. “Then, I’ll make sure to be on my best behavior.”
Liar, you scoffed. He was very much going to wreak havoc. He already had.
“You better. I’d hate to see a face like yours gone so soon,” you flirted, to which Mark grinned and cocked an intrigued brow. He was handsome, you had to give him that. Then, you decided to change the topic. “You like cars, Markie?”
He pretended to frown. “Is it obvious?”
“As far as I know, you’ve spent at least half your nights at these races. There has to be a reason,” you said, then resorted back to flirting, “Unless, you just come to look at me all night.”
“You are quite the extravaganza,” Mark played along, matching your energy. Much to your amusement. “I’m more of a bike guy, but I like anything shiny and nice.”
“We’re gonna get along just fine,” you quipped. “Wanna race?”
“For real?”
“For real,” you repeated, smiling. “They start in a little bit. You strike me as the type of guy that likes all things thrill and exhilaration.”
Mark broke into a tiny snicker. “Lucky guess. You any good?”
You shrugged. “Dunno. Guess that’s for you to figure out,” you teased. Then, began to make your escape. Granted, you knew he wouldn’t let you slip away so easily.
Mark, tantalized, trailed behind you. Hopping in a speeding car with someone as good as a stranger seemed rash, but he had a feeling that you knew what you were doing. Absolutely none of this was foreign to you.
Boy with a death wish was an apt description for Mark.
Upon your last-minute entry, you took him to the garage to pick up your ride. To say the least, Mark nearly dropped dead. The sight of your bright red Bugatti Chiron positively made him gape. “Holy shit,” he exhaled.
You giggled. “She’s hot, isn’t she?”
“Like hellfire. Aren’t these like, hella expensive?”
You bobbed your head. “She’s hell to repair. But my baby deserves the best.”
Mark continued to marvel. “Dude, you gotta let me drive one day.”
You laughed, amused, but for a completely different reason. Like hell you would let a cop take your car for a spin. It was outrageous enough that you permitted him to take the passenger seat.
Eventually you both went to line up for the races. Mark was still completely astonished, glancing around your two-seater with total awe and wonder. If you knew that you didn’t have to kill him, you would have found it very cute.
Yuta came by and stuck his head through the window aperture. Which were each rolled down as a safety measure. “You’re racing?”
“Yup,” you sang, smiling wildly. It had been a minute. And you figured that you needed some thrill in your life (unbeknownst to you, Mark was exactly that). “Meet my partner. Mark, meet this guy.”
Yuta rolled his eyes, then droned, “You two have fun.”
“Oh, trust me. Fun is guaranteed with me,” you replied with a wink.
Yuta glanced at Mark and quipped, “Run while you still can.” Then, he ran off.
“You can’t run now,” you said, making eye contact with Mark through the rear-view mirror. “We have a race to win.”
Mark grinned mischievously.
The flagger came into vision, preparing to launch the first race of the evening. You and Mark fastened your seatbelts, then you braced your hand on the steering wheel.
“Ready?” you asked, glancing to your side.
Mark bobbed his head. He seemed relatively relaxed for a first-timer. Honestly, you were beginning to wonder what all he had done in the name of the law. “Born ready.”
You revved the engine, watching the flagger count down with bated breath. Everything felt light. Adrenaline made your blood pump faster, your heart threatening to leap out your chest. This was it. That feeling that made life worth living.
Three, you muttered under your breath. Two, one. You gripped the wheel tighter. Then every nerve in your body chanted, Go, go, go!
And you slammed on the gas, bolting the car forward like lightning.
You sped like the devil. You were going nearly two-hundred miles per hour in a matter of ten seconds. The car roared underneath your fingertips and you knew you were driving a beast, one that had risen from the dead.
“Goddamn,” Mark raised his voice, speaking over the vicious winds that tousled your heads of hair. He was smiling, clinging to his seatbelt for dear life.
You shouted, “Hang on!” And you both accelerated.
You laughed, so carefree. Nothing else mattered when you were on the road and you quickly lost grip of everything that wasn’t the steering wheel clenched firmly between your fist. The road was the only thing capable of holding your attention, and you even occasionally forgot that Mark was beside you until you heard his exhilarated laugh. Every single thought you had left as quickly as it came. Moments were exactly that - moments. No fears, no worries, no nightmares. Just making it across that sweet finish line.
The feeling surging through your veins was inexplicable, but you knew that you weren’t alone in it. Mark could feel it, too. The rush overpowered any sense of threat and adrenaline made you forget what it felt like to breathe. At that moment, it was like breathing on the moon. Almost as if you didn’t need any air.
You wedged past this car and that, until you had made a great distance in front of them all. They were left in the dust.
“You feel that, Markie?” you asked, chest heaving out of pure, unadulterated fever. You could see that typical untamed gleam in his eyes, but heightened.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. And then he began to crack into a fit of hysterical laughter himself. “Yeah. I can feel it.”
The corners of your lips were in an unfaltering curve. “Let’s win this damn thing.”
Mark was grinning from ear to ear. Never had he ever felt so alive.
The climax of the race was your very favorite. Time lost its meaning and speed became inexhaustible. Air became scarce, as if there was no more left on earth. The tension throttled you and swallowed you whole. And heat reduced you to sweat and fighting breaths.
All you had was momentum, but that was of little threat to you. And Mark.
The distance between the car and the finish line decreased more and more and more. There was practically no one around you, but that didn’t ease your resolve. Resting was not an option until victory was yours.
Mark chanted, “Come on, come on.”
He wanted it as badly as you. If not more. There was nothing for him to gain out of this except experience and yet he seemed immensely content with that.
From the moment you crossed the finish line, time became a blur. All you knew was that you had won and you could feel the achievement in your veins. You only noticed that you were panting when you stepped out of the car, and the crowd flocked towards your vehicle.
“So, what do you think?” you asked Mark, sitting on the hood of your car. “Am I any good, Markie?”
Mark wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, then replied through thick breath, “I think you just gave me the time of my life. Thank you.”
You chortled. Damn right. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Someone cleared their throat and you turned to make eye contact with Lee Jeno. He looked directly at you without hiding his scorn when he spoke, “Sorry to interrupt, but Markie has to go now.”
You didn’t break eye contact with the boy, either, retorting, “Tell your dad that you don’t wanna go, Mark.”
Mark stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry, but I have to,” he said and hopped off the hood of your car. “Thank you for tonight, though. I’m holding you to your word from earlier.”
“I’ve never broken a promise,” you said. Then, you waved. “See’ya.”
Mark hugged you briefly, then bid you goodnight and faded in the crowd with his more than obvious partner.
And you went to pay yours a visit.
Given the hour, Ten was not pleased when you barged into his office, but before he could run his mouth, you shushed him with your finger.
Ten mouthed, “Did you just shush me…”
You removed an object out of your pocket and rested the item flat on his desk. It was a tiny, black wiretapping device. Clearly, somebody thought he was slick, though even in your fit of ecstasy, you were not off-guard.
From the expression he sported, Ten was highly amused by the flagrant audacity of this boy. There seemed to be a telepathic communication between you two, but just to be safe, he mouthed, “Play along.”
Ten said your name and began, “You’re late. Did you hear the news?”
You almost rolled your eyes, but very audibly pulled in the opposing chair to give the impression that you were here for a long, scheduled conversation. Then, you blew out a sigh and replied, “Yeah. Yuta told me Taeyong is considering shifting the gang to China. Damn feds too close on our tail.”
“Don’t fret. It’ll be a walk in the park. China makes up our secondary income - the ascendancy we have there is enough to start fresh.”
The little tale made you smirk. Bloodlust hadn’t branched out in China very much yet.
“I know, but Korea is the only home I’ve known,” you groaned.
Ten was very good at playing along with your bullshit and told you, “That was how I felt when I came to Korea from the States. Listen, you’re gonna be homesick as a bitch. But you won’t be alone and that’s what matters.”
If this was a genuine conversation, you would have been touched. “Thanks, Ten.”
Ten drummed his fist against the wall to mimic the sound of someone knocking on a door, then rose and said, “That must be him. Come on.”
The two of you stepped into the corridor. Where, obviously enough, nobody awaited either of you. Ten shut the door and moved a great distance away from his office before he decided you were both in the clear.
As soon as you were in private, both of you began to giggle. Ten quipped, “Sure you don’t wanna work for me?”
You snickered. “I’m more than content with Yuta, thank you.”
“I have to commend you for your performance back there,” Ten told you, sincere. “Most people wouldn’t have even caught that they were bugged. That could’ve been bad. It’s impressive.”
“Likewise,” you replied. It was in your best interest to steer Mark’s team off course, if possible. They’d learn one way or another to mind the business that paid them.
Ten grabbed a tiny stick-like item from his pocket and pressed a red button at the bottom end of the device.
You furrowed your brows. “What’s that?”
“Bug detector. Jaemin made it for me,” he told you. Then, a red light beamed from the device, and Ten scanned you from head to toe. After a brief moment, he said, “You’re in the clear. I’ll take care of the bug. Did you learn anything else tonight?”
You nodded. “He knows Taeyong is the leader. I let him ask most of the questions tonight, but I’ll have my turn later. I’m posing as a friend that’s going to show him around.”
“Take him where you want.” Ten glanced at his watch. “I expect more from you by the end of the week.”
“Yes, sir,” you replied. Obviously, he had somewhere to be. “Goodnight.”
Throughout the week, you and Ten continued to use the wiretapping bug to your advantage. Faking conversations, making up false plans about the future of the gang. It was, more or less, a taunt.
Just as Ten expected of you, you had additional information to deliver by Saturday morning. Mark was no easy task, but where his partner was concerned, you learned things easily. For one, most of your identities were definitely known. Jeno was not sparing with his disdainful glares whenever he came across high-ranks.
Much less you, for that matter. Which made you wonder exactly what role you played in this situation, but that was still inconclusive. You assumed it was because you had direct ties to the second-in-command, but you merely did his bidding. Which had nothing to do with the trafficking of illegal drugs.
And Yuta never let you in on the affairs of the gang. It simply never came up. It was none of your business and you didn’t care. As long as they protected you.
Either they had no clue what they were doing, or they were looking to make a very big bust.
The following Monday, you marched straight into housing clad in dolphin shorts and a white t-shirt and knocked on Mark’s door. Very relentlessly given it was two in the morning.
Mark yelled, “I’m coming!” from somewhere across the apartment. When he opened the door, he squinted, half-awake. But positive that he was dreaming. “How the hell…”
You snickered. “You aren’t very hard to find, Markie. This is where the newbies that don’t have their own place live - I would know. Boss gave me access to the housing info.”
“Stalker,” he snarled insincerely, voice husky. It did something to you, but you would never admit it.
Instead, you rolled your eyes. It was very ironic, all things considered. He was going out of his way to investigate you and your boss’ friends. “Yeah, yeah,” you said, inviting yourself in. “Hurry up and get ready. We’re going to the ring.”
Mark’s eyes widened. “Shit, right now?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Shit. Let me go brush my teeth and change.”
Glancing around the apartment, there was nothing immediately suspicious or out of the ordinary. Just slightly messy. It looked very lived in.
Less than fifteen minutes later, you and Mark were out the door and on the road. The late night and early morning breeze was very comforting. Just traveling lightly on the road while the sun was still down was one of your favorite things to do.
Mark spoke teasingly over the radio, “Do you barge into people’s houses and homes to go fight very often?”
Unabashedly, you giggled. “No, actually. But I am very notorious for walking around like I own the place. You’re lucky enough that I had no choice but to knock.”
“You mean, beat the door in.”
“Did not,” you countered.
“No, you did,” he said. “You probably woke up everybody else on the same floor.”
You smarted and retorted, “Please. They should come watch me kick your ass.”
Mark was very amused by your confidence. “I’m gonna make you eat those words, doll.”
“Hit me with your best shot.”
He took the challenge. “Loser buys breakfast?”
You grinned smugly. “You’re on.”
The road led you to some bar with an enormous flickering neon light that displayed the name of the establishment. Despite the late hour - and how shady the exterior of the building appeared - the parking lot wasn’t empty.
With your finger, you signaled for Mark to follow behind you and entered the bar. Much to Mark’s surprise, your attire fitted right in with the lack of crowd. Most were sweaty and gulping glasses of water at the bar.
Mark cocked a brow and said, “I thought we were going to the ring.”
“We are,” you responded, fighting a smile. The bartender didn’t spare either of you a glimpse when you led him behind the counter and through the double doors.
You were met with a tiny hallway. There was a kitchen door on one end, but you brought him towards the other. It seemed much more exclusive than the others, no double doors or easy access. You placed your finger on the biometric lock and it clicked open.
“Woah,” Mark gasped.
You giggled and went into the empty room with a ring in its center. In contrast to the others, it was dimly lit by beams of neon red lights. There was another bar at one end and chairs and tables arranged elsewhere. “The private fighting room,” you announced. “It’s only used by higher-ups and their associates.”
“I just thought of at least eight Fight Club jokes I could make right now and half of them have something to do with Tyler Durden.”
You shook your head. “You’re insufferable. You’d lose your mind if we owned a movie theater.”
Mark smiled bashfully. “Can I talk about this place?”
You glared. But ultimately couldn’t resist bursting into laughter.
“Come on,” you gestured, stepping inside the ring. And he followed suit.
After you both warmed up, you asked, “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Mark replied without hesitation, eyes burning with sheer confidence. “Gotta warn you, though - I have a blackbelt in taekwondo.”
He wasn’t lying. You remembered seeing something like that in his profile.
“Good for you. I have a blackbelt in kicking Mark Lee’s ass.”
Mark taunted, “I would like to see you try.”
You got into position, holding your arms in a prepared stance. “Don’t go easy on me, Markie. If you couldn’t tell, I like things rough.”
As usual, Mark merely gave you a grin of unadulterated mischief.
The first round played in your favor. It ran more like a practice round if anything - Mark was more focused on becoming accustomed with how you fought than winning. As a result, you knocked him clean out.
Though Mark decided in the next round that he wasn’t playing any games. He had taken mercy upon you before, going easy on you in spite of what you told him, but you knew by now that Mark had a penchant for challenges and loathed losing. You thought that you had him right where you wanted him, but by the end of the match, he had you right where he wanted you.
“I was wrong about you, Markie,” you gasped after tapping out and accepting defeat. “You striked me as a Mama’s boy. The ‘I’d never hit a girl’ type.”
“I love my mama,” Mark grinned. “And of course, I’d never. But you asked for it.”
Mark helped you to your feet and you lightheartedly threatened, “I’m snitching.”
“Whatever you say,” he taunted. “I see why they call you Scar and not Punch.”
In a flash of anger, you lunged at him, but Mark caught you by your wrist promptly. He cocked his head and said smugly, “Cheater. The final round hasn’t started yet.”
The way he stared down your soul unnerved you. It wasn’t typical of you to show fear - and you didn’t - but saying that you were unaffected by his every move would be a blatant lie. Though there was absolutely nothing sinister about Mark. Maybe it wasn’t him that you were scared of. Maybe it was how he made you feel.
That was more dangerous than any threat.
When the next round initiated, you fought like a beast that had emerged right out of hell. There was no way in hell that you would go down without a fight.
This final round was all the more intense. You were convinced that if you had any spectators, they’d be completely exasperated by the suspense. The both of you kept bouncing shy of one another.
It was akin to a seesaw of action. When Mark landed a hit, you landed one harder. When you were above, suddenly Mark knocked you back down again.
“This isn’t over until one of us taps out,” Mark said.
You shrugged. “I can go all night.”
“So can I.”
Neither of you were backing down, that much was clear. It seemed preposterous - getting worked up over an unofficial game - but you were competitive and Mark was ambitious. The most minuscule of things were still another bridge to be crossed to people like you, no matter the size.
You either won or you lost. It was one to one. This was the tiebreaker; the round that made or broke the game. You didn’t mind buying him breakfast, but there was also a part of Mark that was so goddamn insufferable and you would rather not satisfy that insatiable desire of his.
“If you want your victory, come and get it,” you taunted.
“Say less,” Mark said. Then swung.
Courtesy of your agility, you were able to move out of the way. It was better than giving him the opportunity to lay his hands on you, even if you blocked the hit. You learned very quickly that Mark could make you think he was doing one thing and wound up doing another.
You took your chances, not permitting him the chance to realize what you were up to before you danced around his figure and tackled him to the ground.
You straddled him and smirked, pinning his arms firmly above his head. You were very aware of what kind of position you were in, but you weren’t complaining. It felt like you were at your throne at the very top of the world from above Mark.
Mark eyed you down. “Someone’s been doing her homework.”
You clutched even tighter around his wrist the more he spoke. To which Mark grimaced and quipped, “Are you trying to crush my bones or jump them?”
You teased, “Is that what you were dreaming about before I woke you up, Markie?”
“Not quite,” he replied with a chuckle, then switched on a dime. He flipped you over, hovering over you as you lay flat on your back. Instead of pinning your hands above your head like you’d done to him, he went for your throat.
His grip was strong. It wasn’t tight enough to cause you any genuine harm, as if he didn’t intend to hurt you, but you felt as if he could have bruised your throat.
The worst part? You didn’t thoroughly despise the feeling.
Mark leaned directly into your ear, then growled, “Tap out and I’ll let go.”
Resisting, you brought your fingers to his arm, though you swore his grip became firmer the longer you stood your ground. Mark merely stared into your eyes as you began to gasp for air, holding onto breath for dear life.
The way he looked into them, it was almost as if he was searching for something. You supposed Mark wallowed in the look of vulnerability in your eyes, or the life leaving them, but it couldn’t have been as prominent as the bliss etched onto your face. “You’re enjoying this,” he remarked, showing even less mercy with his palms.
When you were on the verge of unconsciousness, you tapped Mark’s arm with your fingers. And only then did his grip loosen.
Mark shook his head when you began to laugh. “You’re fucking crazy.”
Chest heaving, you replied, “I’ve heard that one before. Try harder.”
“You’re a fucking minx,” Mark taunted, voice dropping another octave. “But you know that too - don’t you?”
A provocative smile crept across your face. “I swear I don’t do it on purpose, Markie.”
There was a whirlwind of thoughts rippling around your brain as Mark leaned dangerously close to you. Heat flared through your body in place of your typical cold blood. You seemed to internally debate yourself, but it wasn’t as if you ever had very much of a conscience.
“Do it, Mark. Do it,” you chanted. From the pensive expression he sported, you were confident that half the thoughts in his head were temptingly screaming the same thing.
Mark steered out of his tiny reverie and began, “That guy - Yuta. He’s not your boyfriend?”
You burst into laughter that was on the brink of hysterical. “You’re kidding,” you said. But when Mark showed you no sign of toying, instead stern, you added, “Please. I love Yuta and I’m forever indebted to him, but I’d rather choke on my own blood than date him.”
That was all Mark needed to hear. “Say less.”
In the time that it took for him to close the tiny gap between the two of you, the last of Mark’s reluctance met its end. His mouth crashed against yours in haste, and you moved in a heated sync, swallowing each other’s tongues.
The taste of him drowned out the rest of the world. You forgot that Mark was a predator and you were his prey. You forgot that you were supposed to hunt him down. Each of your limbs tensed tautly with want and your will for pleasure made light work of your senses. You were enthralled by how well of a kisser he was.
Someone you used to know once told you that sex was a tool, love was a poison; combining the two was a one-way ticket to death. All of which slipped your mind completely as you involuntarily began to rasp your hips against his.
Mark grunted so lowly that you were at the brink of succumbing to insanity right then and there.
It was like Mark existed solely to tease the living hell out of you. Being a thorn in your side was what he thrived on. He kept slithering his hand up your thigh, just shy of where you needed him, and you did not miss the smug little grin on his face when you groaned in complaint.
You pulled away from his lips and warned, “Don’t tease me.”
Predictably, Mark was not alarmed. Your threats were of little substance to him. “Dunno, doll. It’s kinda fun to watch you get all worked up.”
Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you grabbed Mark’s wrist and slipped it down your shorts. You made a tiny noise when his fingers brushed over your clothed cunt, then purred, “Feel that, baby? Could be all yours if you stopped playing games.”
And with that, Mark was sold.
The both of you ran suspiciously out of the bar. You willed yourselves not to touch each other in front of anyone’s prying eyes, but the way you rushed out said enough.
You decided on going to Mark’s place. There was nothing to hide at yours because you refused to bring work home with you, but your address was sensitive information. Sleeping with someone never prevented them from betraying you and nor did it invoke an unbendable bond to be broken in the first place.
But the moment you stepped inside Mark’s apartment, it was game over. You couldn’t stay away from one another, stumbling over his belongings as you made out while stripping along the way to his bedroom and leaving a trail of clothes in your wake.
You wondered exactly how long this desire had been pent up. Maybe you suppressed it out of priority for your jobs, but it had expanded into something unignorable now. The tiny sparks became a full-fledged forest fire.
Mark pushed your naked figure against his mattress and gave your now-naked body a once-over. “I never realized how many tattoos you have,” he rasped. 
There was also a huge scar on your stomach. He had caught glimpses of it during your fight, but the full sight made him curious. Alas, now wasn’t the time to ask questions. 
“Mm,” you hummed, stifling a giggle. “If you do a good enough job, I might tell you the stories behind them.”
“Then, I hope you’re ready to talk,” he said confidently.
You arched a brow. “You talk a big game, but aren’t showing me what you’re made of.”
Mark gripped your thighs apart and at the sight of your dripping cunt, he growled, “Just watch. You’re going to be a mess by the time I’m done with you.”
Before you could offer another retort, Mark pushed his head between your legs and began to have at it.
A little sigh eased past your throat when you felt his tongue lap at your folds. His mouth was warm against the flesh, heat spreading in waves throughout your body and core. You willed yourself to keep your reactions to a minimum, not wanting to give Mark the satisfaction of seeing you at your very worst.
Eyeing him from the bed, you basked in the sight of him devouring you like a five-star meal. Your arms were propped by his pillows very comfortably. You watched him swallow you whole, his veins becoming taut as his grip on your upper legs became ruthless and his wavy red hair tickled your plush thighs.
You were in heaven, needlessly to say. Mark sucked at you without a shred of mercy. No matter how much you liked a boy, you never tended to keep your expectations as high as your standards when it came to bedroom performance and going down on you, but Mark was full of surprises. True to his word, you were somewhat certain that at this rate, you would be a mess by the time that he was finished with you.
“Fuck,” you mewled when he started to lick and suck at your clit.
Mark smirked against your folds. He was going to be the death of you.
Each of your attempts to remain quiet were defiled by your more than loud moans, though you couldn’t bring yourself to be bothered. It was as if Mark knew exactly how to push your buttons (and which buttons to press).
Meanwhile, Mark’s mind was ablaze with thoughts of you. The sight of your body would be indefinitely etched behind his eyelids. Your intricate tattoos that told various tales across your perfect skin, and your plush thighs that tensed whenever he brushed your clit.
You could feel your pulse throbbing in your core. Your thighs trembled, your hips involuntarily moving against Mark’s mouth to derive as much pleasure as possible. It seemed desperate, but you were reduced to fire and bones in no time at all. All you knew how to do was ravage everything in your course to feed your flame. And Mark was hellbent on ravaging you.
You clutched Mark’s hair and cried out, “Mark.”
He seemed to rejoice in how utterly responsive  and reactive you’d become, unable to defy your body’s demanding urges. It was impossible. And your reactions only fed him, spurring him on to milk you completely dry.
You swore you felt nothing but sheer thrill. It was comparable to the high you received from racing. The way nothing else mattered, and all your focus was so centered on one particular thing that you couldn’t think of anything else. You were enticed by danger and entrusting Mark with power over your body was a great enough threat.
Mark was way too attracted to everything about you. Tasting you and watching you lose your grip of control on his tongue only amplified that allure with the addition of arousal. To hell with his job if it meant that he could spend one more moment with you in his mouth.
Maybe he was attracted to danger, too. You and danger tended to go hand in hand, but so did danger and his lifestyle. There was a reason why he wasn’t afraid of you.
“Just like that, baby. Oh my god,” you moaned, angling your head back. For the sake of your pride, you tried to desperately cling to whatever remained of your sanity, but Mark was resolved on unraveling you.
Your sounds became louder and Mark discerned that you were on the verge of release. If you hadn’t awakened his neighbors when you gave his door hell earlier, they were certainly now contemplating filing noise complaints.
Mark separated himself from you ever so briefly and growled, “Come on, doll. Do it for me.”
The little pet name never invoked much thought from you. You assumed he wanted compensation for the nickname you’d dropped on him, and thus let it slide. But in that moment, it made you weak - and you loathed pet names.
This was going to bring it home. Every nerve in your body was tense and uptight. Your fingers and toes tingled with the threat of release, heat spasming in your core and the palms of your hands.
You climaxed in a fit of unadulterated pleasure, tightening your grip on Mark’s red locks and convulsing by reflex. You practically curled in on yourself, every bit of you clenching emptily as fervor shot through your body. Mark didn’t grant you the mercy of letting you ease through your climax, unrelenting as he continued to suck and lick at your pussy ruthlessly.
Mark brought you to a second orgasm in half the amount of time it took to achieve the first one, and only then did he crawl away and let you breathe. You heaved shallow breaths, blinking through the rise and fall of your chest. Never had you felt anything so intensely. You were milked completely dry.
Mark didn’t comment, but his words were heavy through the signature glimmer in his eyes. And smile tugging the corners of his lips. “So, am I getting that bedtime story?”
You replied through heavy breaths, “Take your pick.”
He snickered.
Mark licked his lips and thus your arousal from his mouth. You shot up and straddled him, wasting little time in sucking at his neck. Mark shook his head. “Jesus, woman. Do you rest?”
Stifling a laugh, you purred, “I regenerate quickly.”
That didn’t surprise Mark in the slightest. He could have guessed. “Good to know.”
Pressing kisses to his neck, you began to rock against his hips, feeling his hard cock through the confines of his underwear. You anchored yourself on his shoulders and teased, “Shouldn’t we do something about this problem of yours?”
Mark angled his head back. “Fuck, yeah,” he groaned.
You pushed his chest down in a successful attempt to knock him backwards and his back met the mattress. But the kisses never ended, and you found it nearly impossible to tear yourself from his skin. Until you felt him involuntarily thrust against your hips, needy.
“Patience,” you sang. Granted, you didn’t have much of your own, either. The way he brought you to another world and back only moments ago had you desperate to recreate the feeling. 
You lifted your purse off of the nightstand not too out of reach from you and retrieved a condom. For good reason, you figured Mark wouldn’t have any.
Mark cocked a brow. “You keep those on you?”
Of course, you did. You preferred to be safe over sorry. Not to mention that your hookup who shall not be named tended to forget them. Deliberately. You subconsciously smirked. “Mind the business that pays you,” you murmured, dragging his underwear down his ankles. And fitting the condom over the head of his cock.
You and Mark let out a simultaneous noise of bliss as you rolled onto him. His hands found purchase at your hips while yours pressed featherly against his stomach. You took him inch by inch, leisurely making your way down as your cunt opted to easily swallow him whole.
Mark nearly lost his mind being engulfed by your heat. His fingertips dug almost painfully into your waist for mental anchor, supporting himself with all his might. For goodness sake, you were so tight. It didn’t help that you still leaked with arousal from your previous two orgasms, even more sensitive from them. The moment you were snug around his cock, he felt you clench.
“Mm, Mark,” you moaned, rocking against him at your own pace. You took the lead, following your own rhythm and Mark didn’t have it in him to stop you. Hell, not that he wanted to.
This was, for lack of a better word, a very bad idea. But neither of you seemed to care. It felt forbidden - doing as much as even thinking about each other so lecherously, but that was half the fun. Neither of you could restrain the lascivious thoughts that ran rampant through your minds when you caught a glimpse of your naked bodies or heard a lewd noise.
The other half, of course, was the actual fucking.
And when Mark heard you call out his name, it took all his willpower to not finish himself right then and there. Not Markie - Mark. He steered dangerously close to release at the mere sound of your honey-like voice.
Mark found it in himself to tease, “Enjoying yourself up there?”
“Like a queen on her throne,” you retorted.
He certainly made you feel like royalty, that was for sure. You felt worshiped by his tongue. Now, you were at reign over his body. And all Mark could do was lie there and behold you as if you were a royal immortal deity.
There was a moment that passed where he considered throwing it all away for you without a second thought. You were a lethal weapon of temptation; that Mark knew, yet he was disposed to capitulate to you. As if you’d lulled him into a fatal trance with the very grace of your body alone.
Though your every move was unpredictable, Mark didn’t know what to expect when you leaned closely to his neck. But it certainly wasn’t for you to bite at the skin. He let out an embarrassing whine at the feeling of your teeth leaving marks and tiny remnants of you on his throat.
You arched a brow. Then, teased, “Whine for me again, Mark.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled.
Your lips brushed ever so gently against his and you tauntingly whispered, “Make. Me.”
As aforementioned, Mark was comprised of surprises. His hands rose from your waist to your bouncing tits and he thrusted up, achieving a whimper of surprise from you.
He smirked at the way your face tensed with pleasure and your fingers grasped his biceps for dear life. “Holy fuck,” you cried, clinging to him as if you’d sink into the pits of the earth otherwise. He kept fucking you from below, watching you intently as he admired his handiwork with complacency.
He sneered, “Whine for me again, doll.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed.
Mark snickered. Now where had he heard that before?
The softest of moans parted your lips as Mark fondled with your breast and his hands eventually rose, fingers clawing around your throat. He missed seeing that look in your eyes. The one of air depleting itself from your lungs and the blood circulation ceasing to flow and the pleasure sparkling a tiny gleam.
You satisfied his urges, face blanching the longer he held his grip. And the tighter. Mark very much could have done as he pleased with you, but you knew he’d never let this go too far. Just enough to have you at the verge of blacking out.
Although you were remotely dizzy when he released you from his clutch, you liked it. You never quite noticed it before, but there was a fiery gleam in Mark’s eyes when he choked you. Something sinister. There was an animal in him that had gone dormant for far too long and you’d finally aroused the beast.
And you were the only one to date that had seen it and didn’t flee.
The two of you were dangerously close to climax. With how close in proximity your bodies were - combined by every thrust and grind - there was no way on earth either of you couldn’t tell. You began to rasp your hips against his cock in a vigorously synchronized motion, desperate for the heat of the friction that made you tingle. Piece by piece, you were breaking into rupture.
Mark was no better. Just looking at you had him dangling over the edge. Dangerously. It would only take one little slip before he fell depthlessly into a pit of you that seemingly had no top and no bottom. Just you, only you.
“Let go for me, doll,” Mark ordered softly, trying to coax you into an orgasm. “You’ve been doing so good for me.”
His mouth and hands knew no boundaries when it came to your body. They roamed you, his tongue slithering around your nipple and his hands roughly finding purchase on your ass. You were also very sensitive in areas where your tattoos lived, he learned, and used that knowledge to his advantage. Mark was single-handedly going to destroy you.
“Let go,” he sang again, gentle and tempting.
You began to tighten around him involuntarily. It was coming. “I’m…”
Mark held you firmly. “Cum for me, baby. I’ve got you.”
You saw stars when you came for the third time, orgasm hitting you in full force. It was nothing short of intense. You clamped around Mark, walls tight around him as well as your grip on his biceps. Your thighs shuddered with climax, and a shrill cry erupted from your lips. 
Mark grunted, “Fuck.” The feeling of you pulsing around him undoubtedly sent him down a similar fate. His hands fell to your hips and held them to the point of bruising.
After you rode out the rest of your high, you slacked. You lied against his warm chest, feeling him breathe rapidly as you desperately clung to your own breath.
“Do you feel okay?”
“I feel great,” you heaved. “Do you wanna stop?”
Mark faintly smiled at how much endurance you had. “Nope.”
You rode Mark until sunrise.
When both of you roused again, the clock had already ticked past noon. You made room for another, much lazier round, and settled for brunch instead of breakfast.
Then you split and went your own separate ways. You waltzed straight into Bloodlust’s headquarters. Given you were channeling all of your focus into this Mark mission, your schedule was indefinitely clear of all else. Which left you with leeway to choose someone to vex.
You stepped into Yuta’s office without knocking, yet before you could get a word out, he barked, “Did you come here to tell me that you’re sleeping with the enemy?”
Blinking, you resisted a frown. And said nonchalantly, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Lying to a high-rank. Wrong move. And also impossible to get away with.
Yuta shook his head, scowling. “Jisung said that he saw you both running out of The Lion’s Den. Disorderly. And something told him it wasn’t because of a fight.”
Park Jisung, when I get my hands on you, you bristled inwardly. You never did get along with that boy. On more than one occasion, you had to be separated so that you wouldn’t kill each other.
You rolled your eyes and sat across from your boss. With light humor, you replied, “Please. If anything, I have Mark right where I want him.”
“Don’t walk into a trap,” Yuta warned.
Traps were laid by people like you, not the opposite. You were many things and stupid was not one of them. Just another casualty, you told yourself. That’s all Mark was. You refused to allow him to become anything more. “If you’re done, I have something. Mark thought that I was your girlfriend - what if that’s the connection? He’s using me to get to you.”
“That’s possible,” Yuta sobered. “But he would have to know that you wouldn’t snitch on your lover. I’d kill both you and him with my bare hands.”
“Terrifying,” you deadpanned. “Has Ten or Jaemin been able to get in?”
Yuta gave a shake of his head and drawled, “Nope. They’ve got that unit on lock. Apparently drugs are super sensitive information.”
Blowing out a breath, you turned pensive. They were hiding something, obviously. You were half-tempted to march up to Mark and demand he tell you everything he knew, but it was too risky of a move. Though it wasn’t like he had gotten many leads through you, and there had to be something keeping him joined at your hip.
But what?
At first, you considered that maybe you’d given away more than you realized, yet nothing you told him was incriminating enough to arrest anyone with a drug trafficking charge. Hell, if that was the case, Jisung would have led you all to demise already.
“I can hear your gears turning. Stop thinking,” Yuta quipped, steering you out of your reverie. He could never stay mad at you - or serious - for very long. “Listen, babe. Just keep him at bay. If we make no progress, we’ll bring out the extremes. Everything will be perfectly fine.”
You nodded. “Perfectly fine,” you repeated.
Everything was not perfectly fline.
During the past couple of weeks, things had taken a sharp turn between you and Mark. You intended to leave him for dead after that first hookup, yet the more time you spent together, the more each of you burned with lust.
And so it happened again. And again. And you lost track of how many times you’d slipped away to fuck Mark and suck on his tongue.
Of course, the quality of the sex never declined. You were both pleased and enraged at the fact that Mark had range. Every time you both hooked up, the only thing that stayed consistent was the want that shot through your core. For fuck’s sake, he just had to be a man of variety.
In a nutshell, you were completely fucked.
There was an event at the gang’s casino and you snagged Mark as your date. As if anyone else would risk it. You were the only one crazy enough to personally involve yourself with a cop.
Which, you tried to erase from your memory. There would come a day where he’d try to send you away in cuffs. And you’d have to kill him before he got the chance.
You shivered at the thought.
“You clean up nice,” you commented when you came to pick him up.
Mark was dressed very pleasantly. The red hair was a stark contrast to the fancy black suit and trousers he sported, though given the semi formal occasion, he abandoned the frivolous style and opted for a neater hairdo. You were approximately three seconds away from forgetting about the goddamn casino altogether.
Similarly, you wore a red gown that flowed down your legs, hair styled elegantly and your face beat. Casinos were very much not your scene, and underneath the dress you kept an armed and poised gun resting ungrudgingly inside of the leather holster at your thigh.
“Thank you, m’lady. You’re very beautiful,” Mark replied, taking hold of your fingers and kissing the back of your hand gently.
You grinned. Then began to snicker when you noticed your heels gave you a couple more inches of height on him.
Mark cocked a brow. “What’cha laughing at?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Obviously, Mark didn’t believe you in the slightest. Though he said nothing, instead leading you to the elevator. “I’m driving,” he told you, leaving absolutely no room for argument.
You furrowed your brows when you saw your keys in his palm. “When the hell did you get those?”
Mark grinned smugly and jiggled the keys. “You should pay more attention.”
You were absolutely affronted. There was no way in hell Mark Lee had caught you off-guard. You folded your arms across your chest and Mark snickered, then pressed a little kiss to your neck to placate you.
As you slipped out of the elevator and into the lobby, you quipped, “Make sure to drive the speed limit and not the speedometer limit.”
Mark opened the door for you, yet retaliated, “You’d know a lot about driving over the speed limit, wouldn’t you?”
“Shush,” you mumbled, fighting a smile.
“I believe the correct answer is ‘Thank you, gentleman.’”
You hardly leaned off of your heels when you swayed towards Mark, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and purring, “Thank you, gentleman.”
Mark clamped his arm around your waist and said, “Much better.”
There was a grand casino connected to the hotel that the gang owned. They never invested in anything unprofitable. The building was sky-scraping and vivid in the dimming indigo night, its gold exterior oriented to attract the attention of men and women of means. Courtesy of the supplementing hotel, it had valet parking.
As expected, the sight was nothing short of breathtaking. A large glimmering chandelier hung at the front entrance. There were even tinier ones the further you voyaged across the long red carpet, hanging on the sunken ceiling. You were surrounded by tall pillars and arrays of staircases and even the air felt different inside the casino. It was more or less a very marvelous labyrinth of money.
Mark whistled. “Snazzy. You know what this reminds me of?”
“What?”
“Vegas, baby. Vegas!”
You narrowed your eyes. You didn’t want to know what his Letterboxd account looked like. Or introduce him to one, for that matter. Leaning into his chest, you asked, “Ever been?”
“Once. It’s very beautiful.” Just like you, he was tempted to add, but he didn’t want to come off cheesy. “I should take you there one day.”
Mark was a little too good at toying with your heart for your liking. Both of you knew very well that a future with you together did not exist.
And yet your mind blinked with images of you and Mark in Las Vegas. Him showing you around the sin city. Wandering the streets in each other’s arms, laughing and marveling at its beauty with heartfelt awe. You saw his dumb face and his stupid smile and knew that you were over. 
After a bit of walking, the two of you finally found yourselves amongst the rest of the gang. The occasion was nothing special; for the most part, they were discussing deals with other groups and further things you didn’t get paid enough to be concerned about. You saw Qian Kun and knew to make a run for it. He saw everything from a business perspective, which was great for the gang - and your paycheck - but agonizingly boring.
And then, you ran into Park Jisung and instantly knew that you should have stayed home.
Sternly, you greeted, “Jisung.”
“You,” Jisung icily greeted, less than pleased to see you.
“I have a name, you know,” you reminded with a scowl.
Jisung didn’t hesitate and shot, “And I’d rather not stain my tongue by saying it.”
“You son of a…”
Mark growled in your ear, “Behave.”
Jisung raised his brow when you switched on a dime and rather quickly composed yourself. Where was this guy when he was having a heated quarrel with you for the umpteenth time? Shutting you up on command? He doubted even Yuta had that kind of power over you.
Worst of all, he didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.
“I have to speak with her,” Jisung said, refusing to say your name. Then added, “Alone.”
Mark angled towards you. “Will you be okay?”
Absolutely not. The last time you had a one on one conversation with Jisung, one of you nearly died. It was certainly not a great idea to leave you alone together.
But something told you to nod.
Mark, skeptical, pressed, “You’re going to be good, right?”
“Very classy,” you retorted, despite wanting to be literally anywhere else. You hoped whatever Jisung had to say was of significant value. For him to willingly speak to you, it had to be life-threatening. “I’m going to have a civil conversation with my peer like the two adults that we are.”
“Okay,” Mark replied with scrunched brows, still hesitant. “I’ll be over there with Jeno.”
Throwing both you and your less than lovely coworker another glance, Mark parted and left you to fend for yourself.
As soon as Mark was a safe distance away, Jisung immediately said, “I wouldn’t trust him if I were you.”
Your face immediately puzzled. “What makes you think I trust him?”
Jisung laughed in your face. “Are you for real? For one, you’re fucking. Don’t deny it because I saw you running out of The Lion’s Den, and I know what people who eagerly want to fuck each other look like. I see the way you look at him.”
“Are you worried about me, Jisung?” you quipped. You refused to pay any heed to what he was insinuating. Let alone accept it.
Jisung scoffed, “No. I’m worried about you jeopardizing the future of this gang.”
“That’s rich,” you said, crossing your arms. And trying to identify the cleanest way to insult him. “It wouldn’t be a singlehanded error. You’re literally incriminating us by having him under the drug branch in the first place. You guys let two cops in and didn’t even notice. The only words I should be hearing from you are ‘thank you.’”
“Stop. You’re deflecting, as usual,” he sighed. “Just like the brat mouth you are.”
Instead of giving him a seething response, you gritted your teeth. And bit your tongue. Literally. At some point, you decided he was no longer worth your wasted breath.
Which Jisung noticed and added, “See? I can tell he has a heavy grip on you. This is the first time you’ve ever held your tongue talking to me.”
You had an argument ready to fire, but stopped dead in your tracks when you realized that he was right. Why hadn’t you told Jisung off in vulgar terms yet?
No. It didn’t mean a thing. There was absolutely nothing to it other than you coming to your senses and realizing that bickering with Jisung was - and always had been - utterly pointless. He was obstinate and even after hours of debate, you wouldn’t be anywhere much further than where you started.
Never had you answered to anyone. In spite of working for other people, they knew that you marched to beat of your own drum. There were some traits of yours that were nonnegotiable and they’d either have to accept it or cut you loose.
Ever since you were an infant, you’d carried a reputation. Hell, maybe even before then. You had been called many things in such a short lifetime and an untamable lost cause was likely the least hurtful of them all. Nobody ever believed that anyone as wild as you could be salvaged from the destruction you’d inflicted upon yourself. And hence you began to believe it yourself.
This was the only life that you’d known. It was one where you had no option but to fend for yourself and isolate yourself from the world out of self-preservation. How the hell were you supposed to know how to react to someone sneaking their way inside and making you see life through a different lense?
You had seen so much in your years that you falsely believed that you were numb to fear. But you had never been so scared of something before; change.
You forced yourself to say, “Have a good night, Jisung.” And made a beeline for Mark. The walls of the enormous building were suddenly beginning to close in on you and you felt as if there was no air in a room full of space.
“I need a breather,” you said to Mark, interrupting his conversation.
Mark gave Jeno a glance, then took your fingers in his and asked, “Where to?”
“The rooftop,” you replied lightly, feeling drained and you’d only just got here.
The two of you stopped by the bar and downed a glass of hard liquor before you made your way to the rooftop. There was an elevator with calming music that brought you to the very top of the building.
You decided that you preferred the rooftop as soon as you stepped onto the terrace. It was lit by purple neon lights and void of people, and the air felt fresh and inhalable. Like a breath of fresh air. There were sofas with tiny tables crammed in between scattered about the floor and even further were glass railings that overlooked the entire shining city.
Even at night, the city was never dead, busy with bustling roads and brightly lit structures. You were certain that that was when it came to life.
Mark embraced you in a back hug and you swore time slowed down. But did your heart always beat this fast when he touched you?
“Talk to me,” Mark exhaled, breathing tickling the back of your neck.
You let his touch warm you. It was a great contrast against the chill breeze that swept over the roof at this elevation. “About what?”
“Anything. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
I like you, you said to yourself. And I’m scared because I don’t know what to do.
You shook your head. “How about I kiss you instead?”
“You could have just said that you want to kiss me,” Mark murmured.
Lightheartedly, you admitted, “I want to kiss you so bad, Mark Lee.”
Mark laughed and whirled you around, pinning you against the nearby wall and meeting his lips to yours. It all happened so fast - just like everything else between you two. Everything lasted both for a second and in perpetuity. 
He kissed you until you were stripped bare and empty of every last thought. It felt like magic. How he gained the remedy to instantly put you at ease was a mystery, but you didn’t wonder. You just kept sipping from his poison and inhaling the toxins. There was no hope for you anymore. Mark was withering you away and you were simply letting him.
This was wrong on so many levels and yet you never let that stop you. There were no boundaries.  You both took what you wanted and you took what you needed without giving any fucks about who didn’t like it. Desperately did you want to believe that nothing would come between you two.
You bit Mark’s lip and he groaned, nails digging into your waist. Which then prompted a tiny noise to part from your own lips. You were a parallel set of actions. It was strange; you didn’t fight for superiority, you fought to be even and equal.
There was something different in the kiss after you bit Mark. As if he’d been injected with an animalistic venom. The tempo increased and you fought to keep up with his every move, moaning into his lips as his tongue let loose inside of your mouth. His grip got even tighter, as if he was holding you to keep you to himself and himself only. There was no where else that you would run. As ironic as it was, you felt safest in Mark’s arms. He was the haven you never had.
Then, you heard a noise. You discerned that Mark heard it too, because he pulled away instantly and caged you behind him defensively. And your heart warmed at the gesture, though you needed no savior.
You sighed and pulled your gun from your holster, calling out, “You’ve got until the count of five to come out because if I have to find you my goddamn self, I’ll blow your brains. One. Two. Three…,”
At the third count, Jeno emerged from behind one of the chairs, gun drawn.
You began to snicker and waved him off. “Oh, put that damn thing down. Hit the road, Jack. And don’t let me catch you again.”
Jeno begrudgingly made a move for the door, not failing to cast you an ugly glare before his glance shifted to Mark, who started at his partner bemusedly. He left without a word.
You glanced up at Mark. “Why was your friend spying on us?”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Mark said, tone full of genuine perplexity.
You furrowed your brows. If Jeno was spying on you and Mark without either of your knowledge, what did that mean?
Maybe he didn’t know what was happening between you and Mark.
With a shake of your head, you grabbed Mark’s hand and led him to the glass railing. And he followed you like a moth to light. You propped your arms against the cool glass and called out, “Mark.”
“Hm?” came Mark’s response from right beside you.
You reluctantly tasted the words on your tongue before you asked, “What was your childhood like?”
“I was born under a bridge,” Mark deadpanned. To  which you snorted and nudged his side. “But nah. I didn’t have much growing up. My mom got hooked on drugs real bad and she couldn’t take care of me and my brothers, so we moved in with our aunt. She did the best she could to make ends meet, but you know how that shit works. Whole time, my cousin was on the streets. Made a gang. I followed in his footsteps close enough.”
“What happened for you to wind up here?” you asked, listening with interest.
Mark’s face was impassive. “He’d kill me if he saw me right now.”
As vague as that answer was, you understood perfectly.
There was irony in his story. He was a gang member, then became a cop? Though you were aware that he could have legally lied to you as much as he so pleased, you believed that he was sincere. You learned by now that Mark’s eyes said more than his words ever could.
“What about you?” Mark asked. He wasn’t looking at you, eyes trained to the big city before him, but you knew his ears were ready. “How’d you get here?”
“Fasten your seatbelt,” you joked. Mark had already heard bits and pieces of your life via the stories of some of your tattoos, but this was full screen. “I think I’ve been a demon from hell before I even walked the earth. According to what I’ve heard, my family was against my mother having me. There was a huge stigma that came with having a baby at a young age and without a present father figure. She died during the delivery.”
“I’m sorry,” Mark said sullenly.
You shook your head and continued, “Water under the bridge. It doesn’t get better. I’ve been called a killer since the day I was born. It only made sense that I became one. They said that’s all I was, so I ran and turned to the streets and found a new home. I was in and out of gangs and had several sketchy jobs.”
Mark bobbed his head, listening intently.
“There was one gang I thought I would last in. The one I was in before I joined Bloodlust. I even dated one of the members, but he got violent on me one day. I killed him out of self defense. And I got scared, because I knew I couldn’t come back to the gang after that. The leader would kill me.”
“Is that when you joined Bloodlust?”
You bobbed your head. “Remember when I told you that I’m forever indebted to Yuta? That’s because he saved my life. Took me under his wing and gave me another job and somewhere safe to stay. That’s why we’re so close.”
“Jesus Christ,” Mark said, taking it all in. “You’ve been through hell and back.”
“You’re telling me,” you groaned.
Peace was not a word of any value to you. You’d never known what it felt like. The only thing you knew was survival. It was kill or be killed; hunt or be hunted. Life, in your definition, was a series of bad options and choosing the one that was the least loathsome.
After all, you did what you could to live another day. It was never easy, but you learned everything you knew about survival through those everyday choices. You fought for your life every goddamn day and knew nothing different.
It was a battle of strength that required all of your willpower to not succumb.
You blinked when Mark pulled you into a hug. He enjoyed talking to you. Life as either of you’d known it was a bitch, but getting to know you and all you’d been through brought you closer. And all he wanted to do was hold you underneath the moonlight and ease the pain of your scars.
For the most part, the inner circle knew your history, though not from an emotional perspective. The only people you’d ever given an emotional account to were Yuta and now Mark. Yuta was firm on assuring you that yesterday would no longer matter if you worked for him, but Mark made you feel less alone.
Mark was clawing you out of your armor and defenses. You were stripped bare and vulnerable. There was still so much left unseen and for you to explore in this life.
The two of you chatted the night away below the depthlessly starry sky and above the bustling city. You talked about everything under the sun and moon while being sure to share a kiss or two in between. It made you realize that in such a large world, you and Mark were simply two people with a story to share.
But as the time ticked away, the kisses became more frequent and more passionate. You became less interested in the casino and more enamored with Mark. Somewhere along the line your self-restraint snapped into two, and you found yourselves calling it a night and reserving a room at the hotel.
It wasn’t any less lavish than the casino. Especially not the suite you booked. There was a hot tub in the room and a balcony extended out the side with yet another picturesque view of the city.
Plus, it was a one-bedroom with a single bed.
Mark sat at the edge of the mattress and you wasted no time in straddling his lap and meeting your lips to his. It felt like an adventure. The wild and reckless and lethal type.
You could savor him on you even after. And it was the burning longing to taste Mark again that ultimately brought you three steps forwards and two steps back.
Mark pulled away, guilt-ridden, and reminded, “I’m a cop.”
He didn’t know how he expected you to respond, but you didn’t flinch. Like you already knew and you couldn’t care less. You offhandedly replied, “I know,” and endeavored to kiss him again.
Mark held you in place. His expression turned stern and you blew out an exasperated sigh. You were lightyears away from being ready to have this conversation. “So, you’re sleeping with the enemy.”
“I know. But so are you.”
“I know,” Mark said. Lord, did he know.
“Then,” you began, moving for his neck instead and uttering your words in between tiny pecks and nibbles. “We have nothing to talk about.”
Mark angled your bodies and pinned you down - as if that would stop you - and countered, “We have a lot to talk about.”
Frustrated, you incredulously groaned, “You want to talk about how I’m gonna have to put a round of bullets in your brain in the near future while I’m trying to fuck you?”
Mark scoffed, “You mean, I’m gonna have to hand you in cuffs to the police.”
“I’d like to see you try,” you taunted. It would have been in your best interest to be very careful about what you wished for, though you knew Mark would never. You refused to believe that.
Mark shook his head, laughing. As if he’d read your mind and wholeheartedly agreed that the thought was absurd. “You know I’m crazy about you, right?”
“Prove it.”
Mark leaned down to kiss you for a half of a second, then whispered in your ear, “I will.”
Then, he switched on a dime, and all of the heat and passion of his desire overcame him again.
You were fucking with a Leo; you should have known that you were in for the most wild ride of your life.
Void of patience, Mark clawed at your clothes roughly. You had the whole night, but he stripped you away as if you had only minutes to spare. The whole time, your lips locked in an impassioned kiss as you tried intensely to keep up with the other’s rhythm.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Mark growled. He spoke his mind. It was the first thing he thought every time he laid eyes on you.
The tone of his voice had you seeping with arousal, and to hide your desperation, you flirted, “Fuck me then, handsome.”
Mark grunted. He couldn’t wait anymore. “Do you have a condom?”
“Yes, but I have an IUD,” you added, hoping he’d catch your drift.
Mark blinked in realization. “Fuck. You want me to…”
“Yes,” you groaned, growing more impatient by the minute. “You’re clean, right?”
“Squeaky.”
“Then, hurry up.”
So much for not seeming desperate.
Mark shed his remaining layers of clothing and you licked your lips at the sight of his cock standing at full height against his stomach. Making out with you always got him hard like nothing else on this planet.
You eyed his movements with anticipation. Your body was burning for him to fill the void that he’d created. Like you weren’t complete until he was buried deeply inside you.
Your heart sped as he neared your hole. Mark was nothing if not a tease. He damped himself in your arousal and only pushed in when he heard you whimper, smiling smugly to himself. The first thrust was agonizingly slow. Mark took his sweet time to fit his cock into you, watching your face twist and your breath slow as you took him inch by inch.
There was something about the first thrust that was inexplicably magical to you. Being filled to the hilt with thick heat for the very first time. You held your breath every time.
Then, Mark pulled back out altogether and on cue, you let out an immediate noise of displeasure. “Mark…”
The man in question was firm on reducing you to ash and bones. “Beg,” he growled, leaning low into your ear.
You laughed. As if to tell him he sounded insane. “I don’t beg.”
Mark didn’t blink when he told you, “You do today.” His face was void of all humor and he glanced at you expectantly. He dragged his length on top of your pussy, steering just shy of where you needed him. And it was very intentional.
God, did you try to resist, but Mark had grown familiar with your weaknesses in such a short span of time. Every bone in your body ached for him to fill you. To make you complete once more. It begged to be unabridged and tell him your body’s every secret story. And your pride was a fair compensation.
You stifled a groan and said faintly, “Please.”
“C’mon, doll. You can do better than that,” Mark chided playfully, evidently dissatisfied.
You exhaled a sigh and inhaled your pride. “Please, fuck me, Mark. I can’t wait anymore. I need you.”
Mark teased, “Now, was that so hard?” And before you could provide any commentary, he was burying himself inside you yet again.
It wasn’t very long before you were content again. You let out a sigh of relief when Mark filled you once more, and another when he thrusted out and pushed back inside. His rough hands gripped your hips and he watched the way your cunt swallowed him whole, as if you simply couldn’t get enough of him.
Fuck, you felt like heaven. The way you clamped around him - warm and wet and tight - always set off something animalistic inside of him, but bareback? There was no way in hell he would last.
Mark was only slow to tease you. The moment he exhausted his self-control, he set an uptempo pace. He eyed you like a preying hawk, thinking about how beautiful you were. It was an unshakable thought; you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Eagerly taking his cock like you were made for it or not.
Everything felt so natural with Mark. Nothing was learned nor taught, it was simply second nature for your body to respond to him with ardency and abidance. It came naturally.
“You feel so good,” Mark groaned, giving your thigh a little slap as if to punish you for bringing him to ecstasy. And smirking a little when you let out a tiny cry. “Why do you feel so good?”
You playfully retorted, “‘Cause I’m a goddess.”
Mark nodded. “I believe you.” He brought one of his hands from your hips and ventured your perfect body. Perfect in his eyes. Every spot and curve and scar. And the bruises he’d left, of course. “My Aphrodite.”
You lifted your head a little to clench your teeth into his neck and Mark leaned into you, biting at your shoulder to smother his sounds. Which made you giggle. It always amused you that he was so sensitive to your every touch.
Gosh, you were so goddamn close; skin on skin. Fire wafted over your body, fueled by the flames of his sweltering skin. Sweat beaded at your skin and heat shot through every muscle of your body. The way Mark was pounding into you mercilessly only made you scorch even more. It was impossible to breathe and you loved it. There was no greater feeling than being suffocated by pleasure and arousal.
You locked eyes with Mark and swore you couldn’t feel your pulse. Missionary wasn’t something you did with Mark very often, but you loved to watch his face tense with pleasure. And making prolonged eye contact caused your heart to swell with something unfamiliar. Something vicious and strong that made your entire body ignite with warmth.
The sex was rough and fast, yet intimate. Mark was just the right amount of all three.
Mark loosely gripped your throat and growled, “Tell me you love it.”
You bowed your body into him, moaning, “I love it so much.” 
That was the right answer. Mark continued to love you all over. His body never neglected any part of yours, showering you with warmth and pleasure. Like he had nothing but depthless appreciation for you.
The longer Mark fucked you, the less you could think of anything other than him. You forgot about the huge city right outside the balcony. Everyone and everything else melted away and it was only you and Mark chasing the satisfaction of each other’s bodies and love. 
Love. You were beginning to accept it. There was nowhere to run and no escape; not when Mark was overwhelming you with heated fervor and passion. He was suffocating you with that forbidden four-letter word.
You were beginning to fall in love with Mark.
If love was a poison, you were sipping to your demise and savoring the taste on your tongue. If combining sex with love was a one-way ticket to death, you’d die in Mark’s arms. There was no place else you’d rather be.
“All mine,” Mark growled, pressing kisses down your collarbone and breast to your stomach. All you could feel were tingles that refused to vacate you. They’d found a new home.
Softly, you replied, “All yours.”
There was no arguing with that. The way your body responded to his touch, it was as if you were carefully crafted for Mark and Mark only. Which, the way he fit perfectly inside of you was a testament to.
Mark made you feel rupture and rapture. They were practically indistinguishable. He broke you into a billion tiny pieces that were held together by unfaltering desire.
Just listening to the mess that you’d both created set you ablaze. The wet, resounding clap of Mark slamming his hips into yours as well as your moans and heavy breaths filled the empty air. Your eyes rolled back at the lewd noises. “Mark, Mark,” you cried out his name, sensing you were only moments away from the edge.
Mark knew that you were close without asking and he was trailing right behind you by nearly nothing at all. His pace was vigorous, positively trying to fuck your brains out.
You only got closer and closer. His thrusts felt sharper and the pressure continued to build in your gut at a rate quicker than you could handle and far beyond your control. Any moment now, you would be at your breaking point.
“Don’t pull out,” you demanded, knowing he wasn’t far behind you. It was written all over his face.
Mark grunted at the mere thought of coming inside of you. Needless to say, he had dreamed of letting his release flood you. “Want me to fill you up?”
“Yes,” you moaned, craving him more than anything ever. “Please.”
Mark clamped his fingers around your throat, knowing it would bring you to finish quicker than anything else. “Let go for me, baby,” he said lustfully.
Just like that, you were convulsing with climax. As if he single-handedly controlled every muscle and nerve in your body. The room reeled as you came, voice as loud as it could be with his hand denying you the privilege of breath. Your nails dug harshly into the flesh of his back as your whole body shuddered uncontrollably with release.
You and Mark stared each other in the eyes as you both came. You watched his lips split in a grunt and his orgasm knocked the wind out of him, flaring down his spine. His fingers dug tighter around your throat and his cum filled you all at once. “Take it all,” he ordered, body coming to a halt. “Every last drop.”
Your body obeyed, still eagerly clinging around his cock. It was like you wanted to bleed each other dry. Him of all of his cum and you of your willpower.
Then, you slowly yet steadily both came to a stop. Mark took his precious time to pull out of you, but watched his seed trickle out of your sweet cunt with adoration. His grip around your neck slackened, and you both settled down to finally breathe for what felt like the first time ever.
It wasn’t like you to be so exhausted after a single round, but that night, you were completely spent. You cleaned up a little, then drifted into sleep within the comfort of Mark’s embrace.
Mark held your sleeping figure closely, taking all of your warmth and replacing it with his. I love you, he thought gently. And I’m sorry.
You fell asleep in Mark’s arms, and after a long night of dreaming about him in your sleep, woke up in them, too. And you had the biggest smile on your face when you realized that some time between when you fell asleep and when you woke up, Mark had removed your makeup.
You were beginning to love Mark so much that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
Last night was mind-blowing. And not only that, it gave you an epiphany. You wanted Mark in your life. You wanted to wake up in his arms and feel his body on yours. You wanted to kiss him while cuddling beneath the moonlight. You wanted to take over the world with him.
But by doing so, you would have broken one of Bloodlust’s most important rules; disobeying direct orders. The cost? Your life.
All of the warmth of loving Mark you felt for him only moments ago suddenly dissipated into cold unadulterated fear.
You stared at his sleeping face and felt a tear slide down your face. I’m sorry.
Mark’s eyes fluttered open. He wiped your tears with his thumb and asked in his gruff morning voice, “Why are you crying?”
You smiled and shook your head. “It’s nothing,” you lied.
Though in reality, you were so overwhelmed. And borderline terrified. The last time you loved someone, they tried to violate you. Not to mention you knew the inner circle would never approve of your relationship with Mark.
If you didn’t kill him, then they would. And then you’d be next.
“Don’t lie to me,” Mark said. He could see that this whole predicament was doing a large number on you. Even the strongest soldiers had their weak points.
You sighed faintly. Then said, “I’ll tell you later.”
Mark’s hand found yours and squeezed it tightly. “Promise?”
“I promise.” You glanced at his neck, and failed to hide your grin of pride as you saw the pattern of marks you’d left there. Little traces of you flooded his whole body. As traces of him did yours. “Mm, did I do that?”
He shifted his glance down and snickered. “You did.”
You hummed. “I didn’t mean to go that far.”
“For some reason, I don’t believe you.”
You gasped in faux offense. Then, broke into a fit of giggles. The sight tugged at Mark’s heartstrings and the corners of his lips.
That smile was what made your heart beat. You brought your lips to Mark’s in a peck. Or three. Insatiably craving more, Mark held your face and kissed you even longer and harder.
One thing led to another. One second your lips were to his and the next he was lazily fucking you into pieces, moans echoing inside the room in between kisses and giggles.
You were so far gone that there was no redemption.
The weeks flew by at the speed of lightning and in no time at all, you were months deep into Mark. He gave you everything that the narcotics unit had on you thus far, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t much at all. They had most of the inner circle identified save for Jaemin (not surprisingly), but the relationships were either vague, inaccurate or a combination thereof.
The only reason Jaemin and Ten hadn’t cracked their unit open yet was because of the tight lock they had on all gang-related cases. And they kept their information on physical files. Granted, it was very scarce.
Begrudgingly, of course, you had to give Jisung credit there. Neither Mark or Jeno had caught a glimpse of those imported drugs before in their lives.
Given that you made no attempts to hide your affection, it was broadly known that there was a bond between both you and Mark. You played it off as baiting him; luring him into your trap in order to milk him for everything he knew. Your emotions were kept under wraps when he was the topic of discussion and you fought smiles whenever you heard someone say Mark’s name. They fell hook, line, and sinker.
“They had a hunch that you were Yuta’s girlfriend,” Mark had told you. Now that he was confidently aware that it wasn’t the case, he found it laughable. “I was supposed to use you to move in proximity with the inner circle. The best way to take down any organization is to remove the heart, but obviously I never got far.”
Apparently, their source of rationale were photographs of you and Yuta together discreetly taken. It was a lie you fed into, providing Mark fake intel to feed his dangerously nosy co-workers. As always, the less law enforcement knew, the better.
Your shoulders shook with laughter. “You used to be such a pain in the ass, y’know? I can’t believe you bugged me.”
Mark furrowed his brows. “Huh?”
“Didn’t you put a bug in my pocket?” you asked, arching your brows. “After the race. You know, when you hugged me?”
“My hands were on your back,” Mark reminded, confused. As were you. “That was probably Jeno. But he hasn’t mentioned anything to me about it. I never bugged you, baby - I genuinely just wanted a hug.”
You barked, “The hell is his problem with me? I mean, for an undercover cop he’s obvious as hell. Why send somebody with no prior experience to the danger zone?”
Mark shrugged. He had very little say on the matter. Not that he fought it, either. “They decided that he was ‘the second-most equipped.’ Verbatim.”
“I can’t imagine why. That night on the rooftop,” you trailed off, shaking your head. “I don’t think he trusts you.”
Mark laughed. That was to put it simply. “Yeah, me neither. I told him I was fooling around with you to gain your trust - and at first, I was. But not anymore.”
That went without saying. But you still retorted, “If you’re fucking with me, Mark, I’ll kill you.”
Mark snorted. “I’m sure.”
He wasn’t afraid of you. Like you were a puppy posing as a wolf waving your paws at him with puppy eyes. Mark, threatened by you? As if. You were his fucking baby.
Long nights of feeding Bloodlust intel on the narcotics unit, then coming home to Mark passed by. You’d eventually given him your address and permitted him to go inside. He quite liked your home. It looked and smelled like you. He never knew what to imagine when it came to the interior of your house, but upon seeing, it made perfect sense.
Pictures of you and your friends scattered around the house. None of you by yourself and none with your family. Little plants growing healthily. You mentioned that they were high-maintenance. Your favorite blankets in a heap on the sofa. And a bookshelf brimming with novels. Mark was pleasantly surprised to learn that you were a major bookworm. And a closeted romantic.
It was close to midnight when you heard someone behind you. Very swiftly, you were endeavoring to arrive safely to the garage where your car waited, though you knew that there was no chance of making it in one piece without confrontation. You turned a corner and patiently drew your gun; it wasn’t very often that you ventured into the night alone past sunset, but you damn sure made certain that your gun was tucked to yourself.
There was a familiar negative energy all around you. It was impossible to ignore - far too suffocating and too distinguishable to be neglected.
Not surprising in the slightest, it was Jeno who rounded the corner. With his usual scowl, and an aimed gun. 
Narrowing your eyes, you snapped, “What do you want?”
Jeno smiled. It was the first time you’d seen his lips form anything other than a crooked frown, but it still exuded that same level of cold grimness. “I think you know what I want.”
You studied Jeno for a moment. For someone who believed you were the second-in-command’s girlfriend, he showed you no fear, grip on his gun firm as he aimed it squarely at your chest. Apparently, you were a woman that was loyal to no one but herself in the eyes of the law. Which made you all the more unpredictable. “I know that you’re not who you say you are,” you began levelly, inching closer. “I know everything there is to know about you, Jeno.”
“Because Mark told you, right?” Jeno snarled. “I know a lot about you, too - like how you’ve been whoring yourself out to Mark because you know that he’s easy. He was ripe for the picking and that’s why they stuck me with him; because they knew he needed grounding.”
That made you bristle with anger, but you kept a lid over your temper and retorted, “That sounds like a nice little fairy tale. Is that what you’re going to tell the big boss?”
Ignoring you, Jeno continued, “The world will know the truth about you and this whole gang. You’re more than the bitch they pay to secretly do their bidding. Before you were Scar, you were a gang-hopper.”
Seething, you lunged at Jeno with the gun. He blocked the attack - courtesy of your blindness from the rage that ran down your spine - and cocked his gun at you.
And then there was a loud, piercing gunshot.
But you were never shot. Jeno’s grip on his gun slackened and fell to the ground with him. He lay there gaping, a hand over his stomach that bled profusely. And glancing not at you; behind you. When you turned around, Mark emerged from the corner around you and stepped out of the shadows to approach you.
“You should be more careful,” Mark chided. “What if it wasn’t me behind you?”
Though you wanted to smile, you couldn’t. There was a tormenting question on your brain. How does Jeno know about my past?
“Mark,” Jeno choked out, nearly coughing up blood. He raised his arm with all of his strength and pointed with a trembling finger. “Mark is…,”
Mark didn’t let him finish, cutting Jeno off with a bullet to the head. Whatever he was going to say died with him.
Rather than feeling relieved, you were unnerved. Mark killed Jeno to protect you. Love made people do crazy things - that you knew better than anyone else, but Mark seemed colder than you’d ever seen him before. He didn’t waver; unhesitating and unremorseful.
As if this wasn’t his first rodeo.
“You never mentioned telling the team about my past.”
Mark cast you a glance. “That’s because I didn’t.”
You narrowed your eyes and whispered, “Then, how did Jeno know?”
Mark caught onto what you were hinting at and his face swiftly softened. There was no way in hell that he would do anything to hurt you. And he needed you to know that. “I never said a word about your past to him, baby. I swear. I don’t know how he found out, but you need to know that I’d never air out any of your business.”
There were other possibilities, too. Your past wasn’t exactly private - that you knew. He could have contacted your old friends, or heard the gossip of the low-ranks. Any of those roads were open, but it meant more if Mark himself exposed you. That was unacceptable.
You blew out a sigh and reminded yourself that Mark had been in gangs before - he most likely had bodies. As always, you were just paranoid. You believed that everyone was out to get you because the people that were meant to embrace you released you into the cold.
Hiding your gun, you pulled Mark into your embrace and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Mark murmured. “Just tell me that you trust me.”
“I trust you,” you told him. No reluctance, no shame. And I love you.
You knew that Mark loved you too. In your heart and bones. He had killed for you.
You called someone to discard Jeno's corpse and went home with Mark. The two of you talked and fell asleep by each other’s side. It was more or less a routine.
But when you woke up, Mark wasn’t there. You called out his name; no response. You looked inside the bathroom and he wasn’t there. The living room, kitchen, and all of his favorite spots inside your house were almost void of life.
Mark wasn’t there and it was downright laughable that that frightened you to your very core, but he never left without telling you. You scanned your memories of last night for any warning and ultimately came short.
It wasn’t the first time that you’d woken up alone, but more often than not, you woke up in each other’s arms. Occasionally, one of you would be in the bathroom or kitchen, but you never left the house without mentioning it the night before or leaving some form of text or note.
Though when you checked your phone, it was empty.
And so, you began to do the one thing you very seldom did; panic. There was no indication that Mark had been forced out of your house, but the depthless list of possibilities unnerved you. You prayed that he was somewhere safe. That at most, maybe he’d simply forgotten. You would have scolded him for getting you wound up over nothing, but at least he would be out of harm’s way.
There was a knock at your front door and hoping it was Mark, you rushed to open it, but you frowned when you were met with the face of a man that you’d never seen before.
The stranger said, “Hi. I’m Huang Renjun and I know you don’t know me, but you’ve got to get the fuck out of here. Right now.”
You blinked. Then, shut the door on him. It was too goddamn early for this foolishness.
Undeterred, Renjun opened the door again and welcomed himself inside. This town wasn’t big enough for two stubborn assholes.
You screeched, “The hell, man?”
Renjun exclaimed, “Do you want to die?”
“I literally do not know who the fuck you are!”
“Yes. I thought I made that very clear,” Renjun hissed, gritting his teeth. “But you do know Alexander Lee.”
In an instant, you were rendered gorgonized like a gargoyle. That name never failed to put you in a borderline unresponsive stupor. Anything regarding Alexander “Lex” Lee plagued your heart and body with crisp fear.
“I don’t want anything that has to do with Lex,” you replied, shaking your head and backing away.
This game of hide-and-seek had kept you on your toes for ages now. You’d spent the last years of your life off the grid to take cover from him and now this? Hell no.
Renjun briefly studied you. For someone rumored to have looked death in the face and blown him a kiss, it was not at all lost on him how terrified you’d suddenly become at the mere mention of Lex’s name. It was a warranted fear - the one that made you tick. “I’m sure. But if you don’t leave this place as soon as possible, he’s going to kill you.”
“And I’m supposed to just trust you?” you whispered, all the bite in your voice demolished by terror.
“Mark sent me.”
You blinked. “What?”
Renjun groaned, though didn’t elaborate. It was no mystery how you and Mark got along. For one, you were both a pain in ass and a thorn in his side. Instead, he drew his phone from his pocket and dialed a number. And put the phone on speaker.
“Do you have her?” came Mark’s voice.
Renjun said exasperatedly, “Let’s try ‘Hello, Renjun.’ Or ‘Hi.’ Most people say that when they pick up the phone, you know.”
“Mark,” you breathed, relieved to hear his voice. He was somewhere out there. But you were hurt that he left you.
Ignoring Renjun, Mark greeted, “Hi, doll.”
Renjun only wished he had time to argue. He would have burned your lover alive for greeting you instead of him, but the clock was ticking. He already had too many irons in the fire. “Hurry up and talk some sense into your girl, Mark. She doesn’t believe me.”
Your girl, he had said. Mark’s girl. For a split second, your heart brimmed with warmth.
Mark began from across the line, “Listen to me, baby. I know this is sudden and I’ll explain everything as soon as I get the chance, but you need to trust me and listen to Renjun. Okay?”
Your heart sank. “What’s going on?”
“No time to explain,” Mark told you curtly. “Just do this for me. Please.”
You blew out a sigh. This was too much too soon. Ultimately, you decided to trust Mark. “Okay.”
Mark blurted, “I love you.”
A pained smile curled your lips. “I love you more.”
“Alright, fun’s over,” Renjun interjected. He would not stick around for your lovey-dovey mess. Especially not when lives were on the line and in jeopardy. “We’ll talk to you later, Mark. You go get dressed and come on.”
Begrudgingly, you did as told, rushing upstairs to throw on an appropriate outfit before you headed back down and got inside a car with a man that you’d known for less than fifteen minutes.
As soon as you were on the road, you reminded yourself that you had no idea what was happening and where you were going, and asked, “Where are we going?”
Renjun replied, “Somewhere safe.”
Vague. You didn’t like that. “Are you a cop?”
“No.”
“Do you work with Mark?”
“Not in the way that you think,” Renjun responded, patiently quickly evaporating into thin air.
You pressed, “Then, in what way?”
Gosh, you were aggravating. In his mind, Renjun was likening you to a child that persistently asked their parents, ‘Are we there yet?’ during long road trips. “Jesus, woman! Would you stop badgering me?”
You narrowed your eyes and faced the window so that you wouldn’t lunge at him. “I just want to know what’s going on. You mention Lex Lee - the man that’s been indirectly making my life hell for the last years of my life - and expect me to not have questions?”
You had him there. Alexander was the devil himself and anyone that had known him for five minutes could most likely back you up. His goons were lightly compensated and offered little leeway, and the worst part was the hierarchy system.
Everyone was inferior to someone save for Lex, and the designated high-ranks were equally crooked. They schemed to get away with stepping out of line directly under his nose, often pinning the blame on low-ranking members to avoid lethal retribution.
That was why you were scared shitless to return that day. Lex and your ex-boyfriend were like brothers. It didn’t matter what you told him happened to you - you’d be lucky if he cared. Let alone believed you.
Renjun heaved a breath. You had a very fair argument. “Lex is looking for you. He’s attacked Bloodlust’s headquarters. That’s why Mark wants me to keep you safe.”
“What?” you shrieked in terror. “I have to go back there!”
Renjun turned onto another street and shook his head, eyeing the roads for Lex’s hounds. “It’s not safe. Do you hear me? It’s not safe. You were scared shitless of anything involving Lex three seconds ago.”
“I don’t care,” you hissed. “This is my battle. I’ll be damned if I let anyone else fight it for me. Yuta saved my life - now it’s my turn.”
Renjun balked, “No, it’s not. I know about Bloodlust. They protect you as long as you do their bidding. So let them do their goddamn job.”
Gritting your teeth, you crossed your arms and stared out the window, watching buildings and signs whirl by in a blur. It was clear that Renjun would not be wooed by you, but you refused to sit and do nothing. Especially when his connection - or Mark’s - to Lex was unknown. There had to be another way.
Recognizing the road you turned onto, you had an idea. It was reckless and extremely dangerous, but you wouldn’t let that deter you. Not when the better half of your life consisted of making life-threatening choices. There was the option to take the hard way or the easy way out.
And you’d be damned if you took the easy way.
Calculating, you counted down the seconds in your head until you could make your move. The moment you were down to one, you moved at the speed of light and swung the car door open, launching yourself out and rolling into an area of enclosed grass.
You grabbed your gun from your purse and aimed squarely at Renjun’s tires, sending him swerving somewhere. He screamed in the distance, “You sick psychopathic bitch!”
I’ve heard that before, too, you thought to yourself with levity. And then, like your life depended on it, you bolted.
Dusting away dirt and twigs, you sprinted and sprinted and sprinted. The street was close to the garages. Obviously, your car wasn’t there, but there were plenty that were.
You bust through the garage and scanned each of the open slots for your unlucky victim. There were several people, most polishing up their cars before tonight’s race. And you swiftly made your pick, not having time to linger.
You snatched one of the racer’s keys and asked breathlessly, “Can I borrow these? Thanks, you’re the best!”
Screams of protest were your less than pleased response, but you had already made a distance on the garage by the time anyone thought to react. The moment you were on a road, you let out a thick, heavy breath.
Forget crazy. You were out of your goddamn mind.
You sped as fast as you could without going over the limit, given you had already committed two crimes in broad daylight. The last thing you needed was a high-speed police chase.
The east side of the headquarters was the closest and you drove like the devil. The closer you neared, the faster your heart echoed in your chest. You hoped Mark wasn’t there, but with his knowledge of Lex, you had aching questions numb you to your love. And you prayed your boss decided to take an off day.
Alas, the building was - metaphorically speaking - ablaze when you arrived there. A grating dissonance of screams and gunshots filled the distant air. Lex had called war on Bloodlust via this ambush, but not knowing who was winning completely unnerved you. 
You got out of the car and approached the building through the rear side. Conveniently, there were emergency exits installed in scatters around the headquarters designed for similar occasions. Discreetly, you entered through one, and steered clear of the noise as you stealthily made your way upstairs. It was in your best interest to remain undetected. For all they knew, you weren’t here. 
Creeping around corners, you held your breath. As if the slightest sound would have you killed on the spot. The loud halls that echoed with gunshots terrified you, but the eerily silent ones were too quiet to be relieving. 
Whirling around the corner, you parted your lips to scream when you bumped into someone, and they clamped their palm over your mouth. “Shut the fuck up,” Jisung growled, looking both ways like a civilian crossing the street. When he deemed the close clear, he released you. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Heaving, you asked, “Have you seen Yuta or Mark?” 
Jisung answered you with complete disinterest and disdain, and said, “Yuta’s been unresponsive. As for loverboy, he’s the reason you’re in this mess.” 
You realized that you’d blown your cover the second you mentioned Mark, but you didn’t care. For the sake of your heart and mind, you needed to trust and believe that he was safe. You wouldn’t know how to go on without him. How to unlearn everything you’d gotten so accustomed to in his presence. 
“What do you mean, unresponsive?” you repeated, lost for words. “And the reason? What the hell are you talking about?” 
Jisung pinched his nose and shook his head. “Forget it. Figure that shit out yourself.” 
He turned around and walked away, Part of you was tempted to scream after him, though the sight of a man emerging from the shadows behind Jisung  - armed with murder on his mind - silenced you. For some reason, everything in your body told you to pick up your gun and shoot. You complied, and shot fire. 
Jisung whirled back around in time to watch the man hit the ground, gone without knowing what hit him. He rooted to the spot, gaze rising to your figure and noticing the gun in your grasp. “Did you just…”
“Save your life?” you finished. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
Jisung blew out a sigh. He was many things, including your mortal enemy, but he had a moral compass and in that moment he owed you his life. He glanced around once more, then told you, “Mark is a member of The Basilisks.”
You wanted to laugh. “What?”
Jisung made his tone as menacing as possible and added, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. But your loverboy isn’t who you think he is. Jaemin followed up on him today. Mark’s cousin is Alexander Lee and he’s been in that gang since a little after you started working for Yuta.”
Your heart sank. You wanted to deny it with everything you had, but it made sense. How else would Mark know Lex? He even mentioned that his cousin made a gang. Stupid, you told yourself. You’re so fucking stupid. 
God, you wished the ground would swallow you whole. You wanted to isolate yourself from the rest of the world and rot to bones. Mark had gotten under your skin, reduced you to your true, bare self. He had seen all of the good and bad; the beautiful and ugly. You felt comfortable enough to be more vulnerable with him than you ever had anyone else. Was all of that in vain?  
The Basilisk Biker’s. It hurt so goddamn much. You felt so used and betrayed. And empty. Like you had poured your mind, body, heart and soul into loving Mark and had nothing left to spare. 
Maybe you did. 
Jisung saw the sadness in your eyes and felt a pang of something he had never felt for you before. It didn’t feel right. Your eyes always gleamed with fire, but your flame was demolished. He wanted to hug you, but it wasn’t his embrace that you needed at the moment. He doubted you would want it in the first place. 
Instead, he said, “You have to get out of here.”
“I have to find Yuta,” you argued, gritting your teeth. 
“What if he’s safe?”
Without missing a beat, you shot, “What if he’s not?” 
Jisung had argued with you enough in his lifetime to know that you were headstrong and demanded your way. If you wanted something enough, there was absolutely nothing on this earth that could stop you from chasing it. But he also knew that the moment something happened to you once he left you alone, your blood would be on his hands. “I’m going with you.”
You shrugged and replied,  “Suit yourself.” Then, began to make your way up the stairs. The elevators were too risky. 
You fought tears and focused yourself on your boss. You’d be damned if you cried while anyone was watching. You had taken a bullet tougher than this. Toughen up, you hissed inwardly. 
The long staircase had made you realize just how large the headquarters was. In your head, you had always thought of it as a second home. Now, it was being destroyed by your first one. 
When you reached the floor of Yuta’s office, you stepped onto the ground, peeking around and spotting Basilisks. Jisung whispered, “I’ll distract them. You go check his office.” 
You nodded. Jisung did exactly what he said that he would, and you set out for Yuta’s office. Just from standing outside the door, you could tell that it was empty. But you needed to see for yourself. You counted down from three, attempting to soothe your rapidly moving mind, and barged inside. 
The sight unnerved you. Yuta was nowhere to be found, but the room was completely wrecked. Like he was blitzed and fought like hell against his attacker. 
There was little trace of him. No sign of where he was or where he’d gone. Not even traces of blood. Just his belongings toppled over in a heap and his window completely open, curtains blustering. 
“Find something interesting here?”
Fear riveted you in place. You took your time to turn around, met face to face with a man straight out of a nightmare. 
“Lex,” you exhaled thickly, the wind knocked out of you.
Lex smiled wickedly. There was a gun in his hand. “Long time no see, old friend.”
You shook your head viciously and screamed, “Where the hell is my boss?” 
Lex inched closer, closing in on you as if he was going to make you walk off of a plank. You took steps backwards, colliding with Yuta’s desk. “Well, I could tell you, but where’s the fun in that?”
“You son of a bitch,” you hissed.
As if he didn’t hear you, Lex continued, “It wounded me real bad when you left, y’know. Word on the street is that this Yuta fool had you sold in less than a day. Then, I find out you killed Riley,” Lex laughed. “Whew, I was livid!”
“You were going to kill me,” you said, moving around the desk as swiftly as possible. You never wanted to leave. There were people in that gang that you considered family and you missed them everyday of your life. You never wanted to leave them behind. 
“Damn right, I was!” Lex shouted. He didn’t sound angry - he sounded insane. That was arguably worse. “With my bare goddamn hands!”
You shook your head, fighting to remain calm. Lex’s weakness was his anger, but so was yours. If you stayed rational, you had a fighting chance at survival. “I didn’t want to kill Riley. You have to trust me on that, Lex. He was trying to push me into things I wasn’t ready for. I didn’t have a choice.” 
Pretending to care, Lex crooned, “You have a choice now. Come back home. Let’s be a family again. The girls missed you the worst.” 
Or else what? You knew your other unspoken choice was gruesome as they always had been, but you also knew that Lex was full of shit. There was no way in hell that he would let you off that easily. 
Or alive, for that matter. 
You knew what your options were, because you knew Alexander Lee better than anyone else alive. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A narcissist if you knew one, blind to his flaws. He was manipulative and deceptive, but worst of all, he had not a shred of mercy. 
If anyone was going to take your life from you, it wouldn’t be Lex. You refused to grant him that pleasure. And you knew very well that the only reason you were still alive and breathing was because he wanted to kill you with his own bare hands. Nobody would be given the satisfaction of taking your life if not you.
You shook your head and swore, “Over my dead body.” 
Then, you leapt out of the window.
And crash landed onto the balcony on the floor below you. You struck the deep trenches of your memory, reminding yourself that Yuta once mentioned that he refused to get a balcony like the rest of the members. He claimed that in times of crisis, he wouldn’t regret his decision. And you chose to believe that that was how he escaped. It was a graceless fall. It hurt like a bitch, but what mattered was that you were still alive. Somehow. 
You raced through the floor in case Lex was crazy enough to follow you. 
You ran and you ran and you ran for your life. Your legs ached from all of the reckless stunts you’d pulled today, but you never stopped running. The thoughts seeped into your mind, going miles per minute, trying to outmatch the speed of your feet. You thought of your family and felt pain. You thought of Lex and felt fear. You thought of your old friends and felt regret. You thought of Yuta and felt dread. You thought of Mark and felt stone-cold betrayal.
But you also felt love. Your heart hammered like it was trying to wreck its way through your chest. You wanted some kind of explanation for this, one that would make all of the pain fade, but you knew that there was none. 
How could Mark tell you that he loved you but work aside the same man that made your life a living hell? Your heart was crying blood. It bled and beat for him all at once. 
Adrenaline made you numb to the pain of everything except for your wounded heart. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe there was someone else that would be granted the satisfaction of taking your life. Giving Mark the key to your heart was like handing him a gun and telling him to shoot. Your heart begged for the one person that you were forbidden to have. 
Speak of the devil, they say. And he shall appear. 
Somewhere in the run for your life, you bumped directly into Mark. He looked relieved and displeased to see you all at once. 
Mark grabbed you and whispered, “Baby…”
You swatted his hands away and cried, “Don’t call me that!” 
Mark reached for your hand, squeezing tightly. There was no levity in his tone when he said, “I’m not doing any of this to hurt you. I swear on my life. You just need to trust me.”
“No,” you shouted, fighting like hell to keep your tears at bay. They stung your eyes, but he didn’t deserve to see them fall. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time and expect me to trust you? That’s not how that works, Mark.” 
“I know,” Mark agreed. “And you have every right to be pissed at me for what I’m about to do.” 
Before you had the chance to ask questions, Mark pulled you to his chest and clamped his palm over your mouth, then shouted, “Over here - I’ve got her!” 
Basilisks began to fill your vision. They circled you like a shark to its prey, guns aimed. You noticed familiar faces around you, and you couldn’t blame them for any vengeful feelings they felt for you. Mark shoved you in the middle by yourself, like he was presenting his artwork to them, proud of his product. 
Lex spoke to Mark, but you tuned in and out, their words being reduced to white noise. You felt so much pain and fear that your body began to numb your senses in self-preservation. It was too much to bear. 
This is it, you thought somberly. This is my end. Part of you was satisfied with that. You were so tired. You had worked your whole life and experienced loss to loss with no breaks in between. No breathing room. If you weren’t a sinner, you would have believed that you would finally meet your mother. 
Then again, depending on who you asked, she was a sinner too. 
“Thought you could run from me,” Lex taunted, clearly amused. “I thought you would have learned by now. No one escapes me. No one escapes their fate.” 
He was right. After all, you had nowhere to run this time. Not with over a dozen guns pointed squarely at your head.
All you wanted was for him to make this quick. To put you out of your misery already. Add one more scar to your body in completion. 
Lex tilted his head. “Any last words?”
Without hesitation, you spat, “Fuck you.” 
Lex burst into laughter. Then, much to your surprise, said, “Mark, finish her.”
You stayed still and held your breath, knowing this was the inevitable end. But you couldn’t look at Mark. It would hurt you too much.
Then, The Basilisks switched on a dime and aimed their guns at Lex - including Mark. Stupidly, you stood there blinking. Lisa - one of your old friends - had to pull you out of harm’s way. She whispered, “You’re safe. Everything’s gonna be okay now.” 
Too stunned to speak, you stood gawking. 
Lex blurted, “What the hell do you all think you’re doing?” 
“This has to end, Alexander. And it ends with you,” Mark began, casting his cousin an unsympathetic glance. “For the past decade, you’ve been making everyone here's life a living hell. How much longer did you think we were going to put up with that bullshit?” 
Lex began to stumble backwards, reaching for escape, but one of the Basilisks named Yangyang pushed him back into the circle, then said,  “Woah, woah, woah - where do you think you’re going, big guy?” 
Realizing he was cornered, Lex turned to stare at his cousin in disbelief. “Really? Your own flesh and blood, Mark?” 
Mark let out a remorseless chuckle. “Don’t pretend to have a moral compass now. Here’s the thing, Lex. Everyone here considers each other family and you’ve fucked every last one of us over. You don’t give a flying fuck about blood and flesh; all you care about is power. You like that you can kill whoever - whenever - and our fate lies in your hands.”
“It used to,” Yangyang corrected from the sidelines. “Now, the tables have turned. You get to feel what’s like to be on the other side of torture.” 
Another Basilisk - Seulgi - spoke up from the crowd, voice dripping with the bite of venom, “You pay us less than we’re worth to do your bidding and you let those sons of bitches get away with framing us - but impose the death rule so that we can’t leave. We’re fed the hell up, Lex.”
The death rule was simply that. Nobody was allowed to leave. Your only escape was the dark void of death. It was more or less a pre-prison for gangsters. 
Unless, you ran away. In Basilisk history, you were the only successful runaway. 
You simply watched in amusement, feeling a wound in you healed. Never in a million years would you have imagined a dream like this come true. It was better than anything you’d ever hoped for. It’s over. 
“I don’t do last words,” Mark mocked, cocking his gun. “Goodbye, cousin.” 
The sound of a gunshot resonated throughout the hall, and Alexander dropped to the floor in vanquish. 
“It really is over,” Lisa repeated. Until then, you hadn’t realized that you’d said those words aloud. You were out of your body. 
You grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of here?”
Lisa cocked a brow. “What about lover boy?” 
You gaped. “You know?”
“Oh, please. Mark tells us a lot about you. He acts like we’ve never met you before. It’s hard to get him to shut up sometimes,” Lisa scoffed. 
Mark talks about me. That made your heart swell with emotion, but you pushed them aside. “I’m still mad at him. Let’s go before he makes me change my mind.” 
Giggling, Lisa told you, “Lead the way.” 
You did as told, leading her outside. For now, you pushed your worries away. They would return, but you were simply glad to connect with an old friend for the meantime. A very special one at that. 
Hand in hand, you brought Lisa to one of the balconies. The wind whipped through her hair as you both faced the city. The memories were a mixture of pained and blissful. They stung your heart, yet filled you with impalpable joy. 
After a moment of silence, Lisa whispered, “You never said goodbye.” 
“I know.” 
She whirled around to face you, a pained expression on her face. “That hurt.” 
“I know,” you said, frowning. “And I’m sorry.” 
Lisa faced the early morning city again. Like looking at you would be her breaking point. “You did what you had to do. I can’t hold that against you. I was just scared that you’d forget me.” 
You called her name austerely and slightly rolled up your shirt, then spoke like you were delivering a speech, “I carry a piece of you with me everyday. Every time I look in the mirror, I think of you. Pain is temporary, but this scar is forever. It is a constant reminder of you and what our friendship means to me. I can’t forget that.” 
Lisa gazed at your scar fondly. She remembered how you got it like it was yesterday. You jumped in front of a bullet to save her life. You were so goddamn stupid, but damn did she love you for it. 
She pulled you into a hug. And you smiled.
“I moved on,” Lisa mentioned once she pulled away. “I found someone.”
Your eyes widened, your smile broadened. “Who is she?”
Lisa smiled involuntarily at the thought of her mystery woman. Once upon a time, she smiled at you like that. “Jennie.”
“No way,” you said, jaw dropping. 
“Yes, way,” Lisa smirked. “Love always finds a way. Sometimes the one meant for you is the person you’d least expect. It’s ironic, isn't it?”
You groaned, “You’re telling me.”
Lisa studied you. Never in a million years would she have imagined that the two of you would be having a conversation like this, but she was content to hear your voice again. At one point, she thought she’d lost you forever. “You love him.” 
It was clear who ‘him’ was. You sighed out, “I do. So much. I don’t know what to do with myself.”
Lisa snickered, but suddenly became stern and said, “Mark didn’t do any of this to hurt you. He would never. He was scared half to death when Renjun called and said you’d jumped out of a car to come here. As crazy as that sounds, I’m not surprised. You’re full of crazy.” 
You laughed lightheartedly. “I’ve done worse.”
“I know. Like, jumped in front of a bullet,” Lisa retorted, then continued. “Listen, that boy is head over heels in love with you. I would know. What he did back there wasn’t a part of the initial plan, but he’s in control of this whole scheme and we urged him to do what he thought was best. He knew you would hate him for this, but he wanted to protect you from Lex for good.” 
The tears were coming back and you blinked them away. “Really?”
“It was hard to keep him from socking Lex in the jaw for talking down on you sometimes. He was ready to risk it all for you. That’s how much he loves you. Don’t punish him for that,” Lisa said, smiling ruefully. Then, she presented you with some levity. “Not for too long.”
You laughed like the two old friends you were. You never forgot what those days were like. To be together with people you considered family, you were happy. And now you were no longer forbidden to see each other.
Lisa patted your back. “Go get him.”
“Right now?” you asked, gaping in disbelief. 
“Right now,” she repeated, memories of a morose Mark returning. “Any longer and I think he’ll fling himself off one of these balconies.”
“Oh, brother,” you sighed. “Will you be okay?”
“As long as you don’t leave me for another six years.” 
You smiled and held out your pinky finger for her to intertwine with hers. “I won’t. I promise.” 
Lisa locked pinkies with you. Then, she let you go for the second time and set you free. 
You found Mark somberly glancing into the distance. His mood seemed to instantly lighten when the sound of you slumping beside him steered him from his reverie.
“Hi.”
Mark rubbed his neck. “Hey.” 
“I’m sorry,” you told him apologetically. “I should have trusted you.”
Mark blurted, “What? No. I’m the one that should be sorry. I’ve been keeping secrets from you this whole time. I should have told you.” 
“You’re right,” you replied. You switched on a dime, beginning to knock at his chest fiercely. “What were you thinking?”
He was hardly thinking. It was difficult - he couldn’t function knowing that your life was on the line. You being there meant he had to change his plans entirely because he refused to let anything happen to you. His heart was screaming when Renjun told him about the stunt you’d pulled. Above all else, all he wanted was for you to let him protect you. “I’m sorry, doll. Will a kiss make it better?” 
You paused. Then, sang, “Not sure. Kiss me and find out.”
Mark shook his head in delight. “With pleasure.”
Mark enveloped your lips in a kiss. He kissed you like he’d never get the chance again. As if this was his last day to love and hold you, but also as if he hadn’t felt your touch in years. It was so indescribably passionate. The only way you could explain was that it felt like love. Until you met Mark, you thought that you’d been cursed with the inability to fall for someone else again.
When you’d both had your fill, you pulled away for good and asked, “But I am curious - you’re a cop and a gang member at the same time?”
Mark had been waiting for that one. He cradled you in his arms and replied smoothly, “My job in the gang is to be their eyes in law enforcement. Alongside the biking, we became heavily involved in drug trafficking. It’s my job to steer the police off course and ensure they don’t go looking into The Basilisks.” 
“And that’s how you got here,” you added, the pieces coming together to form one big picture.
“Yup. I was assigned to look into Bloodlust. It’s no secret that this is where you hid and Lex wanted me to use this case to lure you out. At first, I intended to follow orders. But then I fell for you, baby. And I knew that only over my dead body would I let anything happen to you.”
“Romantic,” you purred. Then, you remembered something and your eyes filled with worry. “Have you seen Yuta?”
“He’s fine,” Mark assured. “They all are. They know this building well. That’s their advantage.”
You blew out a sigh of semi-relief. ”We have to come clean.”
Mark blinked. “Now?” 
“Now or never.” 
Mark slipped his fingers through yours and brought you to your feet. “Okay. Let’s tell them.”
You smiled. You didn’t want to hide Mark anymore. You wanted to profess your love for him from the rooftops. And you knew in your heart that he wanted to do the very same. 
That was how you found yourself in Taeyong’s much larger office. Yet again, he stood alongside Yuta and Ten. It was a little frightening, but you wouldn’t let them unnerve you. You were bold in your love.
Lightheartedly, Yuta tried to lighten the mood with levity, “This is the infamous Markie.”
Mark shook his hand. “Dom Toretto.”
You cleared your throat. “Don’t mind him - he watches a lot of movies.” 
Taeyong cut to the chase. “You disobeyed direct orders.” 
You stiffened, knowing he was talking directly to you. You met his gaze and didn’t falter. “Yes.”
“And you were aware that you were disobeying direct orders - and of the punishment that shall follow.”
“That is correct.”
Taeyong arched his brow, amused by your boldness. It took guts to disobey the king of the empire. He sat and reclined in his seat and told you sternly, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill both of you right now.” 
The gun resting patiently on his desk did not go unnoticed by you, but you dug into your heels and held Mark’s arm firmly. You were honest. “I have none. I’ve disobeyed and deceived you while aware of the consequences. I apologize for that, but I won’t apologize for loving him and I won’t let you kill him without killing me first.” 
Ten heaved a breath and took off his glasses, massaging his temple. Then, Yuta leapt up and shouted, “Yes! Run me my money!”
You blinked, only able to watch as Taeyong and Ten exasperatedly drew money from their pockets. Then, it hit you and you shrieked, “You bet money on me?”
“Damn right I did,” Yuta replied, not sparing you a glance as he counted his money. 
Noticing the ridiculously perplexed looks on you and Mark’s faces, Ten explained, “Yuta’s had a sneaking suspicion that you were lying about the severity of your relationship with Mark. Jisung tried to tell us, but Taeyong and I thought he was biased because of how much you argue. Clearly not.” 
Taeyong deadpanned, “Remind me not to make any more deals with either of you where money is concerned.” 
Mark pulled you to his chest, smiling. Some things you just couldn’t hide. His love for you was one of them. “So, we’re off the hook?” 
“I usually don't hesitate to punish people for defiance, but I’ll make an exception just this once,” Taeyong replied, smiling wryly. “I take it that your cousin’s gang is in your hands now. Don’t cause any trouble and you’re fine in my book.”
Mark nodded. He glanced down at you and knew that that wouldn’t be a problem. “Deal.” 
That night, you and Mark danced in each other's arms, refusing to let go. It was like nothing could come in between you. You knew now that your love was worth the battle and the war. Love always finds a way, a dear friend had told you. 
You asked over the music, “Wanna do something really crazy?” 
Mark looked at you, eye’s screaming, “Yes!” He would do anything for you - give you the world if you wanted it. Instead of borderline professing his love for you and telling you things that you already knew, he asked, “Like what?” 
“Let’s go to Vegas.”
Mark chortled. “That is kinda crazy.”
You argued, “Think about it - no one knows us there. It’ll just be me and you in a city full of people. Doesn’t that sound romantic?” 
Mark hushed you and said, “Baby, please. I was already buying the plane tickets.”
You snickered. You knew you had Mark right where you wanted him. And it felt so goddamn good. 
You and Mark stumbled out of the tattoo parlor. Given the long flight, you were utterly spent when you arrived, but the second you recharged you knew exactly what you wanted to do.
Get matching tattoos. 
Initially, you thought it would have been difficult to convince Mark to get a tattoo with you. After all, they were permanent. But he was surprisingly willing and pleased with the results. 
“To a lifetime and a half with you,” Mark told you, mounting the bike you’d left at the curbside of the parlor. You wanted to see how well he could drive one. 
Grabbing the pink helmet he handed you, you beamed. Happiness made your heart beat and your blood circulate. “To a lifetime and a half with my Markie pooh,” you teased. 
Mark rolled his eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Hold on tight.” 
You yelped when the motorbike jerked to life beneath you, and then you were soaring down the roads of Las Vegas, carefree and in love. Nobody could tell you anything when you were with the love of your life.
Love was the greatest weapon of all. 
768 notes · View notes
novistarplanet · 2 years ago
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Baby Daddy Eren headcannons!
who always late dropping your daughter off to you it would be like 2 in the morning and you see Eren pulling up with your daughter 😭
WILL TAKE HIS DAUGHTER TO SEE THE NEW BARBIE MOVIE!!
who randomly popped up at your house for food especially when he knows your cook some cornbread
who gives your daughter wads of cash each time he sees her not like 20$ I’m talking 300 and your like “Eren where in the hell did you get this??”
who loves rough housing with your daughter you walk in one day tired from work to see the living room messed up and your daughter on top of eren tickling him
sometimes when you cooking he’s hugging you from the back
loves calling he’s daughters princess, mama, baby, bubba
heavy footed you can hear this mf from a mile away
he will NEVER lie to you! when he overhears your problem with your friends he will most def give his two cents in and have no problem letting you know your wrong
i lowkey feel like he would either be a drug dealer or a rapper
your saved as “wifey❤️” in hes phone
yall watch Zeus together especially baddies😭 hes so messy
this man will randomly text you things in the middle of the night😭
like i cant imagine you waking up to see a reel eren sent you bc he thought it was funny😭
eren teaching your baby small german words here and there
he’s fluent in german bc i said so >:(
he actually takes time to go watch yt videos on 4c hair so he can do your daughters hair
DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON WASH DAY😭!
time for some drama
i feel like he would most defo get historia prego
and yall dont like each other
BABYMAMA DRAMA🤣
like its gotten to the point where its you or her
Eren will be front row and center when any event your daughter have Dance recital? he’s there. school plays? Oh yea he’s front row reading over the script recording on his iPhone 13 mouthing the words
Eren is honestly the best father he wants to give his daughters the life he never had
we goin pretend mama carla is still alive!! but i can see her spoiling the HELL outa your daughter
i mean look how eren turned out
388 notes · View notes
nctangelz · 7 months ago
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( 💌 ) LOADING . . . MONIQUE WITH NCT 127!
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TAEYONG
MOM AND DAD!!! everyone always jokes that they are the parents / stressed mom and dad / co-leaders of NCT. taeyong said he offered the leader role to monique pre-debut, but she declined because she insisted that taeyong was the one who earned it 🥺. moni and taeyong are always seen watching in the corner as chaos begins…waiting together until they have to intervene.
tae + moni are probably the closest out of everyone in NCT, they grew up eachother living as neighbors, so they go WAY back. they love sharing stories from school to nctzens! moni always jokes that taeyong will be the one to walk her down the aisle when she marries (since yk, her dad left to get milk and never came back 💀), and taeyong doesn’t believe it…but she really does mean it! their relationship is just so precious, we love to see it!
JOHNNY
BESTIESSSSS, johnny & monique just clicked when they met as trainees, and instantly hit it off!! they bonded over the fact they were away from home, and they both taught each other things about their country! moni even successfully taught johnny how to speak in french somewhat! she accidentally switches from english to french when she’s have conversations w/ johnny, and johnny just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ i have no idea what your saying.
johnny loves to take moni on little adventures and they are always going sight seeing or going to other cities to explore whenever they have downtime! she is often a guest on JCC … even if she isn’t tagging along for the activity she finds a way to be in it, even if she’s unwilling. they always have a blast together! it’s so easy for moni & johnny to talk to each other and moni loves that she gets to relax around johnny and know she’s going to have a good time!
YUTA
THE BADDIES of NCT. lemme tell you, yuta & moni? baddest besties alive, they look like the could kill you, but actually are the sweetest duo known to earth. they are always hyping each other up and whenever they go out, they are DRESSSSEDD. they love to express themselves in anyway, and they are each other’s biggest supporters.
the two of them are always stirring the pot whenever they are eachother, they love to make stuff up and convince everyone it’s true and just mess with everyone…it’s typically doyoung or taeyong that realize their antics and in moni’s words “ruin the fun” they are also always just doing crazy things and the members are lowkey scared of them, esp moni. yuta brings out the chaotic side of her members never thought could ever exist 😭😭
DOYOUNG
doyoung just wants to worry and care for moni like a gentlemen, but moni makes it SO HARD. she’s always harassing him and making fun of him, and doyoung is just like 💀 girl be so for real rn. he would be in the middle of doing something for her like opening a chip bag and moni just starts screaming “YAH, DOYOUNG, DO YOU THINK IM INCAPABLE JUST BECAUSE IM A WOMEN? YOU DONT THINK I HAVE MUSCLES? HOW RUDE.” and doyoung is like WTF. he just looks at her with his crazy eyes and gives up 😭😭
but dw, doyoung will harass her right back and moni will giggle and say sorry. he always worries about her and makes sure she’s eating and drinking and will always try and prevent her from making self-sabotaging decisions…but does she listen? 9 times out of 10 she doesn’t but yk, he tried!!
JAEHYUN
moni is sooo affectionate around jaehyun, he just looks so cozy and comfy! whenever she sees him she loves to tackle him in a hug and lay her entire body weight on him. jae is dying while moni is in her own world, happy as could be. jae & moni are inseparable once together though, once they hang out and spend time together; there’s no going back. they will spend time together until moni passes out and takes a cat nap…and jaehyun just goes back to playing games.
moni & jaehyun are such a great team when playing games, because moni is really good at creating strategy and working out puzzles, while jaehyun has the muscle to actually execute the mission. moni always takes his strength to her advantage, for example having him carry her bags or even her when she’s super tired…not that jae minds though. he likes that moni allows him to protect her!!! if someone were to mess w/ moni…you better hide from jaehyun, he is moni’s #1 defender.
JUNGWOO
jungwoo LOVES to listen to moni. whenever moni needs someone to talk to to either vent or just talk about built up ideas in her head, she goes to jungwoo. he loves listening to his older sister talk…even if he’s worried for her mental health. he will always be moni’s shoulder to rest on! he will listen and let her talk, and then the two of them will work it out together…or just do something to cheer themselves up!
moni adores jungwoo with all her heart, she will spoil him always. if he briefly mentions wanting something one day, she’ll buy it and hide it until his bday/christmas. she would do anything for woo, and it’s so precious! all the members complain that jungwoo is her favorite because she always is doing stuff for him, and she will swear up and down she doesn’t have a favorite….but jungwoo knows he’s the favorite <3
MARK
mark is moni’s child - she’s always worried…she’s worried about his health but also worried about just how he acts. mark will say some weird stuff and moni is just standing there like 😀 should i be concerned? but besides her worries, mark makes her laugh SO MUCH. she will try and hold in her giggles..but mark makes it impossible 😭
make probably visits moni’s apartment the most out of 127, he likes to come visit after a long day when he needs to just power down and be in silence for awhile. moni always lets him crash in her bed and let him relax….she will usually just sleep on her couch or spend time in her studio. she will always make him breakfast before he leaves too! moni will always understand and let him come over when he needs to be alone…but he also comes and visits and watches movies with her! he tolerates her movies as long as she makes him food 🥺
HAECHAN
haechan will harass moni just like he will the other members, but moni just smiles and pats his head in response. moni will always have a soft spot for her younger members, and they can’t help but crumble under her love <3. moni will always be there to gently pat his head and tell him it’s okay…which causes him to be even more chaotic 💀, haechan just sticks his tongue out at moni and carries on
but haechan loves loves loves moni, he will always hug her and cling on to her, and moni just smiles and wraps him up in her arms. she took care of him and the dreamies a lot during training days because they were so young…so moni is lowkey haechan’s 2nd mom. haechan always knows he can rely on moni to save him whenever he is loosing or getting picked on too!!! moni will defend haechan until the day she dies <3
tags :: @yjjnfied
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theprinceandthewitch · 3 months ago
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I'm definitely kicking the hornets nest with this one but I always thought it was weird how Marcelines "fallen hero" characterization wasn't really utilized... like at all throughout the show.
Marceline is mostly defined by these characters: Simon, her father, The Vampire King and Princess Bubblegum, with PB and Simon taking the forefront.
Which I thought was weird since PB isn't defined by her relationship with Marceline or any other character. PB gets to exist outside of bubbline and other characters while Marceline doesn't.
And... I honestly dont know why that is, other than the writers just don't like Marceline as much as Princess Bubblegum. I don't think they hate her, but they would rather write PB episodes than Marceline episodes. PB is a more interesting and fun character to write for them. They also need to keep up the illusion she's just as bad as Princess Bubblegum by... not actually making Marceline as bad as Princess Bubblegum. Or really doing anything with Marceline other than using her to develop Simon, making her a depressed goth baddie, or creating Bubbline ship fuel.
Yes, I still will not forgive the show for straight up saying Bubblegums shirt [the one Marceline gave her] held more sentimental value than Hambo. Ah yes... the shirt Bubblegums ex gave her holds sooo much more sentimental value compared to the doll Marcelines beloved father figure gave her when she was literally a defenseless child in a post apocalyptic wasteland.
Can ya tell which character they like more?
Anyways...
People usually reference "It Came from The Nightosphere" as evidence of Marceline being as bad as PB but: She didn't summon her father to Ooo - Finn did. Therefore, that was FINN'S mess to clean up and not Marcelines.
The only time she really goes out of her way to mess with people is when she's being an asshole to Finn and Jake in earlier seasons.
Oh right, and using Finn to get back at PB that one time. But other than that - Marcy hasn't done anything thats puts her on par with a dictator.
Unlike PB who will literally gaslight a lemon child into cleaning up a mess she created... or how she would rather kill an entire squad of sentient robot guards for being too violent rather than like... idk... train them to become less violent... Or how literally anything that comes from PB's DNA turns out to be straight up evil... Or how she will perform child friendly lobotomies on her people while having the audacity to say how some people are just built different...
The point is Marcy is definitely not a "good" person, but she's not on that "literal fascist with a god complex" type of shit like PB is.
Another way they maintain this illusion is by separating Marceline and Finn, because if they got more episodes together then you'd have to address Marcelines "fallen hero" characterization. They're not going to address this part of Marcelines character because they were having a grand time making PB into a fascist. So they can't make Marceline anymore sympathetic than she already is. Remember, Marceline is supposed to be as monstrous as PB is.
This is why Marcy doesn't have any episodes with Finn post "Into the Nightosphere" and why we don't get any Finn and Marcy episodes until... [checks notes] Stakes... and even then those arent Finn and Marcy episodes. Like they only time we see them hang out together is when they make a cameo in Dark Purple.
I'm not counting Bad Little Boy as a Finn and Marcy episode because it's more of a Marceline introspection episode focusing on her feelings for Finn.
But yeah i think this show is funny for completely neglecting to make Marcy just as bad as PB is. Ah yes, she is just as PB because Marcy... [checks notes] has depression. Being depressed makes ya just as bad as a dictator dont cha know...
It's also funny how they want me to think Bubblegum isn't as bad as Ashe even though theyre literally the same character - they're both ancient beings with god complexes LMAO.
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sillylittlelemon · 8 months ago
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hehe hi im the anon from the first saiki kusuo matchup and i would love it if i could hear your in-depth thoughts on how it would be like for me and saiki 😭 ilysm btw u made my day <3333
Nuh-uh Anon, YOU made MY day
So there. lmao
But yes ofc! This one will probably take me longer because i want to do it super good, but i promise i'lldo my best to finish it promptly! <333
Omg anon im so sorry this took so long i love you i swear
Saiki headcanons
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Like i said (or did i say? I think i said) Kusuo doesnt do bugs. You know this, i know this, everyone KNOWS this, so like- man up and get that spider the fuck away from him what the fuck are youdoing? Whyare you so slow? What do you mean youre scared?! Hurry up- OHMYGODITSMOVINGKEBCDZKCBSS
An actual conversation youve had. He didnt talk to you for roughly 29 hours after (he only relented when you showed him the fancy coffee jelly you got him)
We know he has an aversion to physical touch, but i feel like a while he sort of just does it on autopilot. Like- a hand on your lower back to redirect you in a crowd so you dont bump into that man thats about to run past, a hand slipping into yours when he can hear you starting to get overwhelmed by the crowd (or juzt Teruhashi bc that girl is a whole mess). Maybe an absent minded side hug when he gets distracted by something stupid his (totally not) friends are doing. Just fleeting, light touches for a while, then he slowly relents and lets you cuddle him. (Cue him stiff as a board as you hug him from behind as you guys lay and watch his show)
He never forgets ANYTHING. At all. Anniversaries, birthdays, firsts, nothing slips past him. His mind is a steel trap for dates. He remembers the exact SHADE of your favorite color as you point to it in a fleeting moment while you two walk. He remembers the way you smile as you pass your favorite flowers in a shop window, he just knows. And he acts all 'oh i dont care', he cares. That hobby you mentioned that you wanted to try in passing like 2 months ago? He has the basic supplies wrapped and in a box, ready for your birthday in a week.
I feel like jealousy can go either way with him- a) totally chill because he can literally read your mind and he KNOWS you arent interested in that dufus or b) completely irrational
So- lets say scenario a.
Some guy or girl is flirting with you (bc you a baddie no matter your preference) and he's watching, tempted to be amused as he watches them fumble at your outright bored look, stuttering over their words, face flushing and you just standing there like '🤨 spit it out? I have better things to do? Dont you see me clinging to my scrumptious boyfriend? Shoo fly, dont bother me.' And he can hear your inner complaints and he actually mearly cracks a smile at it, turning his face away to hide the subtle smirk
However- scenario b is a different story. Imagine this person is pushier, maybe they got a little.... handsy.
Oh no. No way in HELL is that sliding, okay? Youre clearly uncomfortable and youve told this guy/girl no more than once. My man is seething. Okay? Furious. Who do they think they are? Who gave them the right to lay a single one of their twisted, grimy, heathen fingers on you-. It literally takes the feel of your hand on his to realize he had shattered the phone in his hand. Said person is now scrambling to leave, a totel mess as they eye your downright terrifying twink looking boyfriend with enough hidden strength to shatter a phone. (After this was the forst time you... yknow)
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shadowtoons · 7 months ago
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the art ureveryday posted was nox and xavier right? I started just imagining them arguing while fighting baddies because the other will sacrifice for the other but i dont think one of them wants the other to do so if xavier is to die for nox, i think nox would stop him at all cost while Xavier is still trying to protect nox from sacrificing himself instead for xavier, that would be very interesting
Also, the relationship nox has with xavier is cute and romantic im ganna scream my lungs out!!
Only to imagine a villain fighting another villain suwdbd
Nox is a Villain, so a low chance anyone wanna mess with him, Xavier is one of his precious ones of them all. All be damned someone does hurt him, Nox serial killer side will be unleashed matter of seconds with no mercy.
Also did had a discussion already like this before, but difference. Nox would have sacrificed himself, Xavier has a gem keeps him alive, while Nox doesn’t need to worry about that. That is the problem there.
Yeah, these two are very adorable, no matter how bad Nox is, a villain that murders anyone he seeks and such. Xavier is his pretty much his moonlight, the flower shines at night brightly.
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lovediives · 2 months ago
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anything for you oomfie
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but yeah, my demon s/i, radican was turned by muuzan and he had been running around mindlessly. he doesn't really.. kill humans or eat them per se? but he does mess with them and roughs them up a little. he eventually gets assigned to work with the clones. (aka h4ntengu) and at first hes like "holy shit my boss aint shit." and then with tengu gets his head shopped off and he becomes two baddies hes like "holy shit my boss IS shit." and is like haha i totally wasnt making fun of you or anything behind you back with d0ma. please. dont hurt me.
but eventually. he ends up meeting all four of them. he gets a long with the more "positive" emotions but the negative ones. sheesh. hes always getting into trouble. but he manages to make it work.. aka he realized that as long as hes on k5raku and ur0gi's good side... he can get away with a lot of shit. (HES SUCH A DOOFUS) radican loves causing problems on purpose with his boss(bosses? hes not sure either) and each clone has a different way they view him. ur6gi: thinks hes funny. purposely tries to get him to do dumb shit that will mess with the other clones. he knows radican gets scared easily sometimes so he will scare him. strangely enough, probably the one who doesnt have the "strongest" romantic feelings for him because hes mostly there for fun than anything. k4r4ku: insert nsfw comment here. but yeah, he finds radican rather hilarious as well and tries to get him to loosen up a bit because he notices radican is tense around him. tries to get him to get his confidence up and likes to run his fingers through his hair (thats gay) kara really likes to cup radicans face in his heads. def the most affectionate. s3kido: oh boy. has so little patience for him. but its so tsundere of him <3. im talking that hes like "you are the WORST subordinate." and radican is like "but you were thinking about me, right?" and hes twirling his hair and s3ki grabs him by the hair or something and he can see that stupid smile on his face. and then they kiss or smth YAY! s3ki struggles so badly with his feelings for him because they make him SO MAD but he wants radican so much so its okay. aiz3tsu: well. radicans biggest target for no reason. like aiz would probably kill him if he could. but he doesnt. the two of them cuddle like a lot. and aiz will drag radican to be alone just so he can order him to shut up and hold him close or smth. probably manhandles him the most because hes so done with his bullshit. but the two of them go on "dates" the most. funny
long ass text. lemme pause here thank you <3
edit: here is radican's ref again for people who havent seen it yet...
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starfxkrinc · 2 days ago
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napped on it but id like to say none of my girls are baddies fr <3 theyre all hot messes <3 just bc they dont cry often doesnt mean they dont have angst or emotions they are not bad bitches they are suffering <3
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rise-my-angel · 11 days ago
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Stannis needs to sit his judgemental ass down and focus more on his receding hairline than his baddie daughter who managed to scrape and salvage the best parts of his defective dna to be the gorgeous angel she is…PLEASE someone humble this man because lowkey why is he bitter Jon is already a better father to this unborn baby than he’s ever been in his damn life???
Stannis is going to have to answer for his bad parenting crimes. And Ned will be the one to face him. Just imagine Stannis shows up at the Stark house to speak to you and Ned opens the door, just standing there arms crossed that pointed Stark glare with you somewhat visible in the background like O_O
While Ned argues he hasnt earned the right to see you. But you dont want a confrontation so you agree to talk, but Ned delegates to happen right there with the door open so that he can out a stop to any judgement going on if he hears voices raise.
But you and Stannis dont yell at each other you've never done that, but when you come in it's clear your trying to hide the fact that you might have started to cry a little and Ned just goes into angry Wolf dad mode where Catelyn had to convince the man not to start a fight in their drive way.
Stannis only sees Jon in the distantce when Ned answers the door and ofc Jon's tenderly got his hands on your hip and waist keeping you close and Stannis instantly gets sour at seeing your baby daddy, because that's the low born bastard who knocked you up but he promised Davos he wouldn't start anything with the boy, he was just there to see you.
It is a mess and no one understands why Stannis has judged Jon so hard when hes never even spoken to him before.
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bazzleman · 3 months ago
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shitty poem for my struggling adhd baddies <3
i am sitting
in an armchair
untangling yarn.
hours have passed.
i am still here
sitting in an armchair
attempting to untangle yarn.
i am twisting
pulling
weaving
winding
i have been here for hours.
there is a painting on my desk
a girl in a glowingly beautiful dress
that i started this morning.
it actually looks quite good.
the prospect of it excites me.
i wish i could stand up.
i wish i could finish it.
i am still here.
the painting still sits.
the yarn is still tangled.
i suspect my face is stained with green
from the makeup i was once wearing
before the tears began to fall.
although i cannot tell
i have not seen my reflection in hours
the mirror is far from my armchair
and my tangled, tangled yarn.
a messages lights up my ipad screen
from the base of my feet.
it would be so easy to lean forward and read it
but i don’t.
i don’t think i could.
the sun begins to set.
my mother comes in.
she marvels at my persistence.
“if i were you i would have cut the yarn already.”
but she’s not.
shes not me.
and she cannot tell
how much i desperately wish i could.
they cant tell how much i wish i could stand up
to grab a tissue
and wipe the mucus from my nose.
they cant tell how deeply i long to be enjoying the beautiful weather
that has passed me by
as i sit in the armchair by the window
untangling yarn
willing myself to stand up.
but i am still here.
they dont understand
that my brain is as tangled as the yarn
knotted in the mess of turquoise string.
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cousticks · 1 year ago
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ummmmmm
okay okay uhhhh
I'm going to guess based of off this blog TT
but..maybe Chuuya? (my mind is so simple help. that came to my mind because of ur pfp) but like TT
I'm guessing your the type to
listen to rock music
have fun with your friends
you're also very chill i think and you have your own references in your tags <33 (which is kind of a kunikida thing to do hehe but you dont strike me as overly responsible)
but also maybe a bit of verlaine (idk just a guess)
you have a lot of thoughts on things and enjoy answering (even encouraging) people to ask you things 🤭<33
(hmmm which character does that trait fall under? idk TT TT uhh maybe kinda like poe/ranpo in the sense that you get excited about things and write a lot)
'aesthetic/persona-speaking' -- i imagine you (based on your personality) as something like maybe Q or yosano or chuuya TT --- whatever. basically anyone who gives off cool-chill-baddie vibes.
like someone in a band, maybe. (the fact that you prob play guitar [i think] is not helping lol 🤭😅)
im so sorry for this. my thoughts are kinda a mess rn TT im being rushed to go down sshhs
uhh short one answer if ur looking for one TT uhhhh
1, 2, 3
Chuuya
(im risking it) TT
Hello Wakanai!! This analysis of my personality is so delightful.
I sure do listen to rock music and have fun with friends! I have plenty of stories of stupid things I've done with friends, and hope to add more as time goes on, ranging from impulse trips to other states to skateboarding on chairs in basements.
I'm glad you think I'm chill, I certainly try.
I do play guitar! Its my favorite instruments I play, and I am actually in a band with my cool boyfriend @pmreaper, though we haven't really released anything yet, eheh. (I play like three instruments respectably well, but if we count all the ones I'm teaching myself when I have time, I can kind-of play, or used to play ~10!)
Your vibe reading on me is exactly the kind of person a 13 year old me wanted to be, which is pretty cool.
To summarize all your guesses, we have:
Chuuya Kunikida (Sort Of) Verlaine Poe Ranpo Q Yosano Chuuya Again
With Chuuya being your main/final guess.
I will say one of these is correct! I kinda want to see if anyone else takes a swing before I confirm or deny anything. Thank you for your guesses & reasoning, this ask made my day!
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djxiao · 2 years ago
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i was just happening to read your ayyo concept analysis and was reminded, did u know snsd tiffanys solo (ijwd <3) was also partially shot at the same pink motel?? i just found it a bit funny that sm returned later for another release
I think the repack was not well planned, but they still made one bcs they could tell ppl wanted it, so it was pushed out half hearted. Lets now set the bar reaaal low they thought. If ppl had given up and we skipped this release, waited until a real new concept (maybe a mini?) i wonder if we might have dodged this mess
idk.. i also think 127 needs another career evolution? like im not sure how or how to put it, but something...preferably outside the nct bubble. socially? with more of the ent industry or? hm i could keep going i just realized haha
i cant believe i didnt recognize the motel but i havent seen that mv in yearsss. ok just went back and watched it and i guess the only part i should have recognized from the ay-yo teasers is the empty pool but otherwise i dont think i would have realized without you telling me bc they mostly used different areas of the motel.
my memory is a bit fuzzy with the details of the repackage timeline but im pretty sure we were told a while ago that there would be a repackage so thats why everyone was expecting one (or maybe not, maybe we just assumed there would be one). i really dont know what kind of strategy they were going for with this awful repackage. but sm are no strangers to delays so i dont get why they couldnt have just delayed it a few more months if they needed more time.
the 127s DO need a career refresh. wayv and especially dream both feel fresh and interesting at the moment even with dream currently promoting a 90s cover song. their concepts feel distinctive and characteristic of their respective subunits and both have progressively evolved over time in a way that makes sense. 127's concept just feels stale :/ i think the 2 baddies concept photos were ALMOST THERE with the jack henry inspired photography especiallyyy his rosalía pics and rob pat pics for gq. i think they could have really pushed the visuals. i would LOVE to see 127 with a bit more edge to them. and instead of worrying about staying as pretty as possible. theyre already pretty they dont need to worry about that. i want to see them be INTERESTING and PUSH THE BOUNDARIES for whats the norm in kpop ok i have a vision. dpr ian is a wonderful example of what im talking about, though i would like to see 127 go with a bit more editorial/futuristic/luxury branding.
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also look at some of the other pics from those shoots im obsessed
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there are also some really great korean photographers too who have done really interesting work that i think would fit 127 like:
cho gi-seok, an icon. everyone knows cgs! and for a reason! i especially love their matrix inspired series it would be sooo good for 127 but their other futuristic/tech shoots are perfect for 127 too
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pakbae is also great and while they focus more on fashion photography, they do occasionally work with idols for magazines. i love that they always throws a few interesting and unexpected images
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go won tae has done plentyy of idol photoshoots that you would probably recognize.
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less, aka kim taekyun, my tried and true. has also worked with a bunch of idols and with sm for superm and solo taemin and baekhyun concept photos in the past. i also love his editorial shoots but i'll just show some of the work he's done with sm. i think he could do something REALLY interesting if only sm would allow it
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camerawhoisalsocam · 1 year ago
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I just finished the crossover. Spoilers. This is a half baked rant filled review from both a RWBY critic and a life long DC fan.
This animation was wonky even for rwby, there wasnt any fights choreography that stuck out to me and I just finished watching this like an hour ago. Like it was so boring my mind was just not intaking anything that could stand out. Even V5 and V9 had some good fights, and both of those volumes got huge budgets cuts because of some other project being released at the time (genlock and this crossover)
The dialogue was just such a mess. And the voice acting oy vey this was rough. Rwby usually has great VA work from the main's at RT, the funimation crew, and a boat load of others. This just felt so off, like the cast was just asleep. Did the voice director just give up like a minute in?
This story was such a mess too! I know combining 2 seperate universes is always tough I wont lie, but converting DC characters with too many varying powers, Supermans multiple powers, wonder womans godly gear, Batmans Bat-everything, Flash' speed force, Cyborgs various tech, Jess' rings many capabilities, and Vixen's animal powered necklace, its all too much to convert to 4 set abilities. Semblance, Dust, Faunus additions, and Rwbys "its also a gun" weaponry isn't enough to fit what I listed off above. Just send the rwby characters to the DC universe.
And side note, just use the teen titans. No power scaling argument needed, their strong but not stronger than the league and are still stronger than the RWBY verse. Imagine Ren and any Robin understanding one another about being orphans, or any Robin and Weiss getting some development about their rich dads. Blake and Damian can get along over their troubled past, or even Starfire and Blake since their the minorities (Tamaranian and faunus) of their teams, or Raven and Blake being goth baddies! Superboy and Yang, anger issues, Yang and Cyborg, learning to live with disabilities. Imagine the chaos of Nora and Wally west and Beastboy. Hell you could even substitute the Jessica plot with Raven struggling with her powers. Theres so much more potential here!
And jesus they did not handle the rwby characters any better. They were all so full of themselves and acting high and mighty comared to the experienced hero's. I'd argue that its cuz the league isnt all there and cant remember everything. But RWBYJNR dont remember anything either! Their all in the same boat so why are rwby treating like the league hasnt fought worse threats, as mentioned Brainiac(an alien with 12th level intellect) and Vandall Savage (an immortal from the caveman times) and while im at it why is a guy thats running a breaking and very obvious simulation a such a big deal anyway?
Shipping, oh damn right im going here. I dont wanna see it, No Superman x Ruby, no Batman x Weiss, no Wonder Woman x Blake x Yang, no Jessica x Jaune, no Cyborg x Nora x Ren. NO! NONONONO we arent doing this. Did we not learn how problematic Starco was? Did RT not learn from Ryan Haywood that grown adults and teenagers shouldn't go together? Seriously im starting to think RT has a problem, I know thats an understatement but at this point im calling it a prediction.
Alright time to speed run these individual character issues
•Batman's arc on staying on Remnant was dumb. Gotham is his soul purpose, and he doesn't need powers. He has never needed them, he's always been able to overcome and keep up with these gods with his wit, skill, and tech.
•Yeah Weiss was just Batman's sidekick. She felt so disconnected from the plot I thought I was looking at V4-5 Blake. Plus why was she so persistent on keeping Batman in Remnant? Was her daddy kink that bad, is she just into older men who are trapped as teenagers? Gross.
•Superman and Ruby's arcs were weak. Ruby leader arc was just so lame, like her significant leader moment was just "sneak jessica and jaune away for a sneak attack" jesus that was lame. And Superman didn't have an arc really, his semblance unlocking, leadership, and blame for getting trapped was all super undercooked.
•The Wonderwoman, Yang, and Blake dynamic was so forgettable. Like I genuinely couldn't remember that arc, was it like a warrior thing right? And were they like... flirting? Really? NEXT!
•Oh god go back to the other one! Not the Ren x Nora x Cyborg love corner, couldnt they have done something else with these guys? This is just sad. Shame on you RT
•Oh yay, Jaune mourns over Pyrrha again. This is after V6 right, so did we have to focus on Pyrrha being desd again? Like come on let her rest, even DBZ doesn't bring up Krillin death as much. I do admit, Jaune helping Jess out was nice, their interactions were sweet.
•I did like Jess' anxiety arc, I think it was handled very tastefully and was a great way to write her character. She's too fucking adorable, her VA was one of the good one's. This actually gave her some great spotlight that we dont see much of besides DC superhero girls
•And I actually liked Vixen, design was fine and the voice was good, even if her power was heavily underutilized. But she was cool
•Barry what did they do to you? Oh Barry no! Why did they flash and make him so... nothing!? He looks like Bart and Wally mixed together. And he's the twist villian? Why didn't the technology based supervillian yake over the technology based hero!? Barry was so boring, I knew he was gonna be a side character but bro why make him the boring twist villian?
•Killg%re. Oh fuck if im not using the percentage thing im not censoring it this crossover makes me too angry to follow the rules. So boring. He calls himself so brilliant and smarter than Brainiac and Vandall savage yet his simulation was so easy to pick apart cuz the grimm, their freinds and family, their timezones, and even their own memories are so muddled anybody can pick apart this is a dream! His plan was so bad, stick the league in another dimension? Good so far. In a simulation, okay it can work. Turn them into teens so their hormones kick in? No, moronic, i hate it, I hate this! And look, out of every villian, why Killgore? The idea of a crossover is to grab your big guns and use their names to gather up your audience. If you wanted a lesser known villian who can alter reality go with BatMite, Mister Mxyzptlk, reverse flash, the Legion of Doom, or jesus anybody? Not somebody so forgettable that even KGBeast is more recognized than him.
Well atleast it's over... wait, part one?
NnnnoooOOOOOO-
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