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artficlly · 5 months ago

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a dish served cold (mini series - part four)

Wild West Marvel AU

outlaw!bucky x reader after the murder of your pa, you go on a journey to find justice. fate brings you to crimson junction for a reason, and that reason is bucky barnes.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, guns, violence, kidnapping, murder/death, attempted sa, head injuries, choking, vomiting, creepy men, period typical attitudes, outlaw bucky, protective bucky, alcohol, betrayal, bounty hunters, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: part four!! things are starting to get moving now. let me know your thoughts sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

If you had expected peace and quiet once the sun set, you were sorely wrong. After being cramped up in a saddle for hours on end, you’d hoped exhaustion would take you the moment you were returned to solid ground. But aside from Barnes, it seemed like you were the only one who was fatigued.

Your captors hooted and hollered between themselves, gathered around their small fire as they greedily swallowed down whiskey. You had never thought bounty hunters to be so lax. They did not seem to fear the security of their catch, simply relying on the strength of their knots. There was no fear of an attack from a roaming gang or that you or Bucky might slip from your binds.

You lean against a fallen log a few paces away from them and wonder if they knew how you schemed. In every moment of travel, you pictured increasingly violent ways to escape. You were just waiting for a moment of vulnerability—a moment where you could strike and end this ordeal once and for all. Your thoughts had always been conflicted previously, a silent, crawling worry of judgement. It was a sin to kill; yes, the Bible and preachers always said so. But what of self-defence? What of the rising dread you felt, the knowing in your bones? Deep down, you knew. You knew that if you did not act, you might become yet another corpse that littered the deserts. Or you might be subjected to a range of much worse fates—the ones women truly feared.

It is the crunch of boots against the rocks and sand that alerts you to one of them drawing closer. Not the ringleader, but another. Rumlow. The man pauses in front of you, crouching down to your height. You swallow hard, your posture straightening. He has a drunken grin, one rather close to a sneer. He brushes a strand of tangled hair from your face.

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t ya?” Rumlow muses, his eyes scanning across your dirty face. “I do wonder if we keep ya around after this bounty business is done. Could be nice to have some… female company around.”

You shift away as far as you can, but despite your efforts, you feel his hand reach under your skirts. You lift your leg, intending to kick the man, but his spare hand grips your shin, pinning it down. Filthy hands graze across your skin, up past your knee. Bile burns in your throat, your hips squirming as you try to put further distance between the two of you. Rumlow chuckles, fingers ghosting across your thighs.

You grit your teeth, squeezing your thighs together to trap his hand in place, hoping and praying that he would not try to reach any further. “I would sooner put the barrel of a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger than be your whore.” You hiss.

The man goes to laugh but stops abruptly. The phlegmy wheeze caught short as you spit in his face. He froze, as if in disbelief. He releases your shins, his hand rising to his cheek, wiping the glob of saliva with one swipe. You watch in disgust as he brings the finger to his lips, sucking the fluid off with a twisted grin.

You are revolted to find that Rumlow appeared… delighted by your sudden will to fight.

He raises his free hand, swinging it down and cracking it firmly across your cheek. Your neck cranks as your head is struck to the side. The shock of it jolted you; your thoughts somewhat momentarily dazed as pain quickly radiates across your skin. You gasp, staring at the ground beneath you. Hesitantly, you run your tongue over your split lip, wincing as you taste blood.

You feel heat flare across your cheeks, the steady hum of rage flooding your veins. He had released your shin. With a grunt, you raise your knee in a sharp, abrupt motion. Rumlow groans as it connects with his gut, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thigh. “You’re gonna regret that, you stupid bitch.”

Before you could react, he rose to his feet. One hand seizes a fistful of your hair, and you let out a yelp as he tugs. Rocks dig sharply into your skin as he jerks you onto your stomach, grunting as he drags you across the clearing. You twist in his grip, letting out a gasp as he finally releases you. Your shoulders ache as you desperately tug at the binds keeping your arms tied behind your back, a blind panic setting in.

You feel him tower over you, his hands digging into your sides. He flips you from your belly onto your back, and you let out a winded squeak, wriggling as you try to break free.

“Get away from me.” You manage to gasp as the man huffs out a laugh, gripping you by your ankles as he tugs you towards him. You struggle in his grip, managing to free one of your feet, and kick him solidly in the nose.

Rumlow pauses his movements, the crunching sound of bone reverberating across the campsite.

He lets out a pained wheeze, his hands rushing upwards as blood streams from his nose. You watch mesmerised for a second as the crimson liquid spills over his hands, dripping down his forearms.

With a grunt, you flip onto your stomach once more. You wriggle forward, hoping some distance might change your situation for the better. Your victory was short-lived, as you are left frozen as a pair of leather boots stand in your line of sight.

“Ya know, I’m gettin’ a bit sick of you, little lady.” Pierce snarls, leaning over as he grips one of your arms. Without so much of another word, he hauls you across the ground. You wince and yelp as the rocks and twigs dig into your skin, tearing at your skirts.

But, to your relief, the ring leader sits you upright once more. Gasping for breath, you are leaning up against a pole. Pierce pauses to stare at you, rubbing the stubble along his jaw.

“You best stay put now, or I’ll set my boys on ya.” He warns, his eyes moving to look at something behind you. “You’ll keep an eye on her, now won’t ya Barnes?” He sneers teasingly.

You turn your head to look behind you. In your struggle, you haven’t realised the outlaw was tied up directly behind you. Barnes doesn’t respond, and you watch the profile of his face as he stares broodingly into the night. Pierce walks away to return to the fire, and you notice how the outlaw's fist and jaw are clenched.

Quietly, you catch your breath, your head leaning against the post as you close your eyes. Your heart is beating wildly, and your chest is rising and falling as you try not to focus on the sting of your wounds and the pounding in your skull.

“You alright?” The low, gravelly voice of Bucky spoke up into the silence. You crack your eyes open, sighing heavily through your nose. You were surprised—very surprised, actually—that the outlaw was even interested in speaking to you.

You run your tongue over your teeth, then your bottom lip, as you contemplate. The behaviour of your captors was elevating at a dangerous rate. If you remained with these men any longer, you weren’t sure you’d be lucky to escape as you had tonight. There was no way for you to untie your binds yourself, not without help. Mere days ago, you would’ve sworn Barnes was your enemy. You’d have to bite the bullet and consider a temporary allyship.

You could not say you knew the man; you only knew the small acts of kindness he had shown you. You could offer a truce and hope that, in the end, he didn’t turn on you out of revenge for this whole messy situation.

“Can I ask you a favour?” You hesitantly breach the silence that has fallen, ignoring his previous question. You might’ve answered yes, just to ease his mind that you were, in fact, okay. But you were too shaken to lie. It was hard to forget Rumlow’s dirty fingers had ghosted up your thigh. It was easy to picture what he might’ve done if you had not fought back.

“A favour?” Barnes asks. You could feel him shift behind you, adjusting his seat and trying to lean closer.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, but I have a feelin’ the only way we can get out of here is to work together.” Your words were met with a contemplative silence. You swivel your head back again, your neck straining as you try to get a peek at his face to see if any emotion crosses his chiselled face.

“And what were you proposin’?”

“My knife, it’s still in my boot; they missed it. I can’t grab it with my hands tied, but maybe you’ll be able to grab it.” You huff, snapping your head forward once more. Sliding your legs carefully underneath yourself so your feet were closer to where his hands were tied. Then, you shuffled backwards until your back was pressed against his shoulder.

The outlaw bends closer to you in return, his hands blindly feeling around your calf, shin, and ankle, searching for an angle to stick his fingers into your boot. You keep your jaw clamped shut, ignoring the goosebumps that rise across your skin. You were thankful for your stockings, which prevent Barnes from feeling how your body reacts to his touch. It perplexes you how his unintentional caress felt so different from the type of touch Rumlow had subjected you to.

“I get the knife, and then what?” Barnes puffs as he strains against the rope. His fingers press into your boot, searching for the thin blade tucked snuggly between the leather and your stockings. With your back arched, you tilt closer, trying to give the outlaw a fighting chance to retrieve the knife. The whalebone edge of your corset cut into your skin, and your breathing grew strained as your ribs were squeezed at the awkward angle.

“You hold it for me, and I can cut myself loose, then I’ll cut you free.”

His fingers pause, as if he were suddenly second-guessing your proposal. “And what’s to say you don’t bolt the second I cut you free.”

You sigh, squeezing your eyes together in frustration. Your back and hips ached from the position in which you were bent, and your legs were cramped and quivering as you tried to stay upright.

“I promise, okay? I know it ain’t worth much. I just know I can’t get out of here without your help.” You say, near begging. Your breath comes out in short pants, the tight lacing of your corset showing no mercy. His fingers are still frozen in place, and you can imagine the frown that has fallen across his face. “I am scared. Is that what you want to hear? Those men… those men are only get worse each night, and I ain’t gonna be able to fight them off much longer.”

You wait for his response, expecting him to ask how it would benefit him—other than the obvious possibility of him escaping his fate of swinging once the party reached civilisation. To your surprise, he doesn’t appear to question you. The outlaw grunts, as if not even able to find the word to reply, and to your relief, he begins digging for the knife once more. You release a sharp breath, clenching your jaw as you strain to stay twisted in place.

When he finally manages to grip the blade after a few more minutes of fumbling around, you nearly sob out of joy. The outlaw succeeds in plucking the knife from your boot, and you moan in relief, flopping against him as you flex your legs back into place. Barnes is tense at your touch; his body is stiff as if it had turned to stone.

“Hold still.” He mutters. The coarse fibres of your binds rubbed at your wrists, the pull of the knife tugging them back and forth. The two of you are dead silent as he works, eyes locked on your captors, who were still huddled around the fire, drinking and oblivious. They don’t notice anything amiss.

With one final tug, the strands of the rope come apart. You gratefully pull your wrists apart, rolling your shoulders subtly with a relieved sigh. Your moment of bliss is short-lived, as you do not want to draw attention to yourself before you are able to free Barnes. You make quick work of his rope, your fingers gripping the blade expertly as you quickly cut. Your head snaps rapidly between the rope that disintegrates between your fingers and the group of captors.

Only when the outlaws binds are removed do you shift back into your original position, so as to not rouse suspicion if they glanced over. Your pulse sounds like a drum in your ears as you lean back onto the wooden post. Half of you had expected the outlaw to leap to his feet, materialise a gun from thin air, and take them out expertly like a gunslinger of legend. Another half expected he might turn on you, that vengeance for your actions might outweigh his common sense.

Barnes did neither. Instead, to your surprise, he presses your small knife into your palm and mutters to you in a low voice, “We should wait until they fall asleep. Easier to shoot without ‘em shootin’ back.”

“You want to kill them?” You say, horrified.

Even if you had pictured your captors deaths repeatedly, you did not actually intend to kill them. There was rage, frustartion, and fear inside of you, yes, but you did not want to become a murderess. Maybe there would be some satisfaction in causing them to be arrested and watching them swing, but were you truly capable of killing? Having a violent thought was no sin, but only if you did not act upon it.

“As far as I’m concerned, they deserve it, darlin’.” Barnes replies gruffly.

You think back to how the outlaw has watched as these men beat and torment you. How he had grit his teeth and clenched his fist. Your captors had found enjoyment in his suffering as equally as yours, laughing when he stumbled and dragging him by his neck. Thinking back, you recognised there was a growing darkness in his gaze, a hateful, vicious thing growing within him.

“I think it’s up to the law to decide who deserves what.” You say, but deep down, you are unsure of your own words. Even if you escaped without killing your captors, what was to say they would give up the chase? How far would they travel through this godforsaken desert just to get to Barnes? And you could not simply let Barnes slip away; you still needed him.

“Those men hurt you, hell, they were gonna do a lot worse. You’re tellin’ me that you’re not the least bit upset about that?” He asks, irritated.

You cannot find the heart to reply.

—

It didn’t take long for your captors to fall asleep—a mixture of the exhaustion of the day and the indulgent pours of whiskey they allowed themselves. You were surprised; you’d never expected bounty hunters to be so sloppy. Maybe they could afford it due to their numbers, more firepower, and strength. You wondered why your captors didn’t have the foresight to leave one of their own awake to stand watch or why they didn’t sleep in shifts. Maybe they had too much faith in their knots or even their ears to wake them at the slightest noise.

You had decided you would not kill. No. You would have Barnes do the dirty work if necessary. Whatever watched over you would have to forgive you for that sin, but at least you would not have blood on your hands.

The camp grew silent until only the crackle of the fire, the nickering of the horses, and Barnes slow, deep breathing joined you. It was only when you heard the soft snores that Barnes nudged you with his elbow. The outlaw glances over his shoulder at you, his face dusty and eyebrows knit together in a look of determination.

The two of you slowly rise to your feet, careful and purposeful with each step as you navigate your way through the small camp. One of the captors had fallen asleep next to the fire, while the other two had miraculously made it to their beds.

You clutch your small knife in your hand. You had decided it would be suspicious if you left yourself unarmed—you didn’t want Barnes to suspect your plan to use him. Based on what you had heard from stories and personal experience, you did not think the man was particularly remorseful about using violence and taking lives. However, you did not want to give him any more reason to distrust you than he already likely did.

Trust would be key, as much as it disgusts you.

You watch on like a hawk as Barnes hesitantly leans down, retrieving a pistol from the belt of one of the men. You hold your breath, momentarily captivated, as the light from the fire illuminates his side profile, strands of messy hair sweeping over his forehead. There is a strange feeling in your gut that was unfamiliar to you, one that made you feel weak in the knees. Without disturbing its owner, he withdraws the gun from its holster with deft, cautious, and slow fingerwork.

You release a long, slow breath, and Barnes rises to his full height once more. He does not even glance in your direction, instead assessing the gun and checking the number of bullets left. You creep towards him, a small, anxious voice within thinking he might turn the gun on you. Those thoughts are quickly dismissed, the knot in your chest loosening as Barnes gestures his head towards one of the men, and you nod in response.

You go to creep backward a few paces to allow the outlaw the space he needs to commit whatever crime he envisions, but find yourself frozen in your tracks as warm flesh wraps around your ankle. You glance down, your mouth opening in horror, as you realise the man next to the fire has awoken. With one hand clutched around your ankle in a vice-like grip, the other reaches for his second pistol, raising it to point it directly at you. You yank your leg backward sharply as his finger comes to rest over the trigger. Your whole body jolts as a loud gunshot rings through the camp, the scent of smoke filling your nostrils.

Your hand flies to your stomach as you gasp, fear prickling across your skin. You quickly realise that, despite the sudden shock, you are unharmed. Wide-eyed, your head snaps upwards, and you see Barnes standing with his gun aimed squarely at the now deceased man. Blood splatters, bone, and brain matter paint your boots, skirts, and the soil. You could’ve sworn you heard the sizzle as droplets of blood sprinkle the open fire. You gape at the scene, fixed in place from the shock. Your joints feel frozen—a chill that not even the campfire could melt. The shock hits you in a rush that leaves your chest pounding as you gasp for breath. Only when you jerk your head upward to look at Barnes do you find the will to move. You pull your ankle free, your legs wobbling as you try to step over the body.

There is a look of worry that haunts the outlaws features.

He thrusts out his hand to assist you, his fingers brushing your hands. You gratefully grasp at him, your knees nearly buckling as he supports your weight. There is a strange comfort in feeling his arms wrap around your waist, hoisting you away. You look up, hoping to thank him, but your gaze moves past his concerned expression as you notice a dark, looming figure standing behind him.

“Bucky!” You shriek and dive to the ground as his grip on you slips. Your palms meet the earth first, with rocks digging into your flesh. A choked gasp leaves your throat as you realise your hands were slippery, thick, crimson liquid painting your skin. For a moment, you think it is Bucky, and a sob rises in your chest. You look upward, but by some miracle, the outlaw is unharmed. He has gained his bearings and jumped forward to tackle Pierce. Bucky’s sculpted arms wrap around his middle as they begin to tussle on the ground.

Your eyes flick back down to your palms, realising the blood you knelt in was from the body next to you. Mistakenly, you look at the corpse, then make a small gagging noise as you gain your footing. Bucky and Pierce are still brawling like a set of wild dogs, all teeth and claws, as they both struggle to reach a misplaced gun. You contemplate reaching for the pistol to assist the outlaw, but before you can do anything heroic, a large mass slams into your side. You let out a yelp as your shoulder smacked hard into the ground below, biting pain radiating up your arm. The heat of the fire is scalding, and your head has nearly fallen into the pit.

The man above you is Rumlow, still as loathsome as you remembered him. There was a thin layer of sweat across his forehead, his nose was bruised, and his yellowing teeth revealed an angry grimace. With one of his hands raised and his palm flat against your face, he attempts to shove your head into the fire. You grit your teeth, struggling to find your knife, which fell from your hand during the tackle. The heat from the fire continues to sear your flesh, and the flames are inching closer as your captor pushes your cheek closer and closer to the flames. The light blinds you, and in a moment of desperation, you bite down hard on one of his fingers, spitting blood as he yowls in pain. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, slam your knee into his stomach and roll out from under him.

Your knife is discarded nearby, the glint of metal calls to you. You scramble towards it on your hands and knees, crying out as Rumlow grips you by the back of your head. Your scalp wails in agony as he takes a fistful of your tangled hair, yanking and tossing you to the ground. Your head cracks against the hard earth, a ringing in your ears as you roll onto your back coughing.

Rumlow chuckled, lowering himself onto you. He straddles your waist, pinning you in place. You kick out wildly, trying your best to squirm your way out, but are unsuccessful. Wrapping his hands around your neck, he squeezes hard. Panic begins to rise as you fight for air, clawing at his hands desperately. Your vision zones in on his face, his crooked teeth, wrinkles, and slicked back hair. You turn your head, searching desperately for Bucky. Deep down, you knew he had no reason to help you, not while he thought you were some kind of bounty hunter. The edges of your vision begin to fade, the world growing grey as your lungs burn, your chest heaving in agony.

Just moments before you consider closing your eyes and accepting this cruel and violent end, you notice a small light. A glint, not apart of the fire. A piece of metal, sharp and well-cared for. You knew this, as you had sharpened it yourself. Made in your Pa’s forge. It called to you once more.

You reach out desperately, your palms dragging across the rough soil, until you can finally grasp between your fingers. With one last push, you clench your fist, driving the blade into the throat of your captor.

His mouth opens, eyes wide in shock, as he grabs at his neck. You gasp in air. Your throat burns, and your body suddenly grows possessed as you cough and heave. Blood spurts across your chest, neck, and face as Rumlow slumps over you. Still choking for air, you grunt loudly as you push the man off. Taking in large gulps of air, you roll onto your belly, close your eyes, and allow yourself a moment to breathe. The earth below you was warm from the fire, and you pres your forehead against it, not caring as you breathe in sand and dust. Beside you, Rumlow splutters, chokes, and gags before finally falling silent.

These people had corrupted you. You were only a few weeks away from home, and you had become one of the characters in a cautionary tale your church would preach. There was blood on your hands; there was blood all over you. You were dripping in it, as if you had submerged yourself in a bath filled with it. It coated everything—your very being, your very soul. What would your Ma say? Her daughter, her only child, a sinner? You would surely go to hell for this, self defense or not. You could’ve stabbed him anywhere—the arm, the shoulder—but you chose the throat? It was never supposed to go this far, this… this idotic fantasy. You were a killer, a murderer. Had you completely abandoned your morals? All for what? Vengeance?

Your arms shook as you rose up on all fours, gagging and heaving as you vomited up bile. You could not remember the last time you had a proper meal. Your stomach aches, and your throat stings from the acid. Eyes watering, you sniffle as you wipe at your face, pushing yourself to a kneeling position.

Bucky stood over you, his hand extended. The outlaw looked as though he had been thoroughly tussled, his hair messy, and the beginnings of a bruise across his cheek. You take his hand, feeling like a ragdoll as he pulls you to your feet. His hand raises, coming to gently and hesitantly touch your shoulder.

“You alright?” He asks, his voice laced with concern and hesitation. He seemed to regard you like a spooked horse, making slow and purposeful movements so as not to scare you away. You held his gaze, knowing there was a likeness of death within them.

“Yes.” You lie through your teeth, your voice hoarse. As if he can sense your lie, he shrinks back and grunts in response.

Any expressive or lively emotions from the outlaw moments previous were lost. Now, you were met by a brick wall. His visage was darkened and stoic. A void of a man. He took a seat in front of the fire, slumping as his back turned to you. Rage bubbles within you, the boil large enough that you consider biting your own fist as not to scream. This man had already taken everything from you, and now you were caught up in this mess. Innocent, you were no more. You look around at the destruction around you—blood and bullets littering the ground.

He had caused this. He had caused this destruction in your life and led you astray into the desert. You stare at the back of his head, your skin crawling as you imagine how you would crack it open. Allies, you were no more, now that your captors had been dealt with.

Hands shaking, you let out a sharp breath and turn around.

You needed a drink. Something, anything to stop the pounding in your skull.

You worked your way through camp slowly, checking the dead bodies, the tents, and then the saddlebags. There was no more whiskey to be found, and more alarmingly, there were little to no supplies. You had wondered if the lack of food and water given to you and Barnes while in captivity was purposeful, but now it seemed rather like a lack of provisions. No wonder they had been living off whiskey the entire journey. That, and it appeared that your captors had been dead broke, other than a few measly coins tucked into a saddlebag. They didn’t even have any damn cigarettes left.

Unfortunately, it left you in a similar predicament. They had brought along your saddlebag, but it was as bare as their own savings. There was little to no money—just a couple cans and half a waterskin full of warm water. Thankfully, they had tucked your rifle into one of the saddles, which you gratefully retrieve. Crimson Junction had certainly bled you dry, having to pay for a room, food, and stabling your horse while you waited for the roads to open.

It seemed ridiculous now, thinking back to when you thought this would be easy. Hindsight was a cruel maiden.

Stroking a hand down the wooden grain of your rifle, you wondered where the valuables Bucky and his companions had collected had gone. All the fancy jewellery that was stolen during the robbery... had it vanished into thin air? Was that their victims’ legacies? Maybe he had spent it all while on the run, or maybe the group of them had hidden it somewhere in the wilds. Either way, it didn’t seem like your captors had had the foresight to bring his saddlebag, which was presumably with his horse still loose in the canyons.

Your hands tremble, and you grip the rifle in your hands harder. Taking deep breaths, you stalk over to Barnes, who obliviously stares into the shrinking flames. You gaze upon him and still feel grief squeeze your heart. The outlaw had been kind to you and even saved your life. But what of justice? What of your foolish mission that led you to this desert?

What of the retribution you deserved?

You had tried to be the girl you were raised to be. You had tried to be innocent, true, and kind. You had tried so hard to be what was expected of you—to marry well and be a good wife or even a mother. But there was so much anger within you—a rage you did not know how to smother. The flames burned higher and higher until they spewed from your mouth and engulfed you whole.

You were no longer gentle. No longer that girl you left behind in Aramiah.

“What were you diggin’ around for?” The outlaw asks, but he doesn't bother to turn his head. Probably for the better. Had he really regained faith in you that quickly? So blind to the different sides of you? He did not even know you, or maybe he thought he did?

In that moment, you were unsure if you even knew yourself.

You raise the rifle and swing it over your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You croak out.

Bucky turns, but it is too late. You bring your arms down and strike him hard across the head. His head snaps back, a gash splitting across his temple.

He is out cold before he can hit the ground.

PART FIVE

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kenny-the-ken · 2 years ago

Note

hello! if your requests are open i’d like to req mysterion x fem!villain!reader (aka shes on Prof. Chaos’ side :D) and she’s like a little harley quinn with mysterion? like even tho she’s on the enemies side she’s so clingy and flirty with mysterion :) !! even when their in battle she’s always missing on purpose, and if her teammates call her out for it or anyone else she’ll jus be like “i could never 🤗! i hate the freedom pals!🥺”

headcanons would be nice if you wanna do them but if you wanna do a full fic im not stopping you! :3 (if you wanna make this nsfw age him up pleas 🙏❤️)

Superhuman Lovers Pt 2

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!! I age up in every fanfic/headcannons I write! So, I wrote something like this a few days ago, and it blew the fuck up!! So... this request is very similar, so why not have a part two,,, this one's just as steamy as last time, if you can believe that!! Warnings!! Angst, strong language, derogatory remarks/phrases, choking, no protection, intercourse. You can read Part 1 HERE!

Here you both stood, as Shakespeare once said, two star crossed lovers. You and Mysterion had been secretly dating for the past few months, and luckily for you both, the streets at South Park seemed a little safer, that was till a little chaos was caused.

You'd warned Kenny of the brutal attack, so Freedom Pals were well prepared, and as both teams stood face to face atop a high rise just outside South Park, the pale moonlight the only thing lighting the battleground. And you watched closely, your eyes fixing on your partner's.

You smirked, sending him a wink, and he had to act completely disgusted. People knew you were both very similar in personalities, so being flirty was nothing they found strange. "Freedom Pals! Time to meet your untimely demise!" Professor Chaos announced, as you all raised your weapons, flared up your powers and readied to enter battle.

"Let's go!" Toolshed shouted, both sides sprinting towards one another, and you were gunning for Mysterion, a smirk never breaking from your face, your body spinning before kicking your leg towards him, as he caught your foot in mid air, a smirk on his own face.

"Careful, baby. You could've hit me." Mysterion let a deep chuckle from his mouth, lifting you with your foot alone, to throw you over his shoulder onto your feet, and you landed, hands on the ground to stop yourself from falling.

"Oh so that's how we're gonna play it then, okay, have it your way." You spoke, lunging towards Mysterion, landing on his back, a smirk on your face, before whispering into his ear.

"Bet you can't wait to bend me over later, hm?" You knew this would make him weak at the knees. Mysterion was a man of many talents, and not much would budge him, he didn't have a kyptonite like all other hero's, that was until he met you, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't let the comment slide, a low chuckle escaping his parted lips.

Mysterion turned his head to smirk at you, gripping you by the waist from behind and flipping you over his head, as you landed on your feet.

"Don't try and fuck with me, Princess. Just cause you're horny doesn't mean I am. This is war." Kenny spat, and you knew he didn't mean a word of it, as the battle continued, you felt a presence grip you from behind, throwing you backwards onto your back, your body grimacing at the pain that began to spread, before you raised your head to see your attacker, you glanced to your side, seeing Mysterion laying in the same position as yourself, both your eyes meeting each other as you looked towards both groups, who stood united, with Eric and Butters at the front.

"So, what's this we're hearing about you both? That you're co-conspiring against us?" Eric began, a smirk upon his face.

"You both betrayed your cause!" Professor Chaos spat, the anger prominent on his enraged face. Both gangs glared daggers into you both, Kenny the first to stand to his feet, as you quickly followed, moving to his side. You had already spoken with Mysterion about what was to happen if your relationship was discovered, so neither of you were overly startled, it was bound to happen eventually.

"I can confirm that we are a couple. And if that simply isn't allowed, then I guess we're going to have to part ways with both groups." Mysterion spoke, moving to your side, wrapping a protective arm around you, a smirk on his face.

"No I'm afraid it simply isn't allowed, Mysterion. You must do the right thing and give her to us. You will be free from her dark seduction and able to meet your full superhero potential once more, without that succubus draining the life from you!" Eric shouted, and Kenny's grip on your waist tightened. Your blood boiled, humming in response to what was said.

"And are you sure you just don't want to for yourselves, Freedom Pals? I've seen the looks, I've heard the remarks about me you've all made. This is nothing to do with Mysterion and I dating and everything to do with pure green eyed jealously!" You spat, and Mysterion nodded in agreement.

"We're forming our own alliance. We're the best fighters from each group, you all know you don't stand a chance against us. So let us go freely, and no one gets hurt." Mysterion spoke, his hand behind his back, clutching to the fire crackers that hung from his belt, getting ready for you both to make a quick getaway.

And before anyone could speak he lit them, throwing him towards the group of fighters, as both of you sprinted, sliding down the drainpipe attached to the high up building, and making a getaway through the skinny allies, taking the backstreets all the way to Kenny's house.

And once you were in the safety of his bedroom, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist once more, a smirk firmly planted on his face.

"So, since I'm obviously the leader of our new group, I guess I'll have to get you to submit to me, hm?" He hummed, his hand coming up to trace along your jaw, and you leaned into his touch, his arm round your waist reaching to squeeze your ass cheek firmly.

"And who said I'm going to submit to you, Mysterion? You're good, and I'm bad, you gonna fuck the bad out of me then?" You spoke, and he hummed once more, a low chuckle escaping his chapped lips, eyes darkening.

"I'll fuck you till the only thing you can remember is my name, slut. And that's a promise." Kenny growled, pushing you backwards so you fell onto his bed, your arms pinned down above your head by your cocky boyfriend.

"You're obsessed with me~" You grinned, and Kenny knew you were right. He was drawn to everything about you, how pretty your face is, how soft your lips are, how your breasts fit perfectly in his hand,

"How could I not be! I mean, just look at you." Kenny swooned, before his lips met your neck, marking you up right down to your breasts, before he pulled away, a smirk on his face.

"Strip." Was all he said, and you knew to do as you were told. Kenny let go of your arms, pulling you up as you swapped places with him. He sat on the edge of the bed, and you slowly started undressing, as Kenny's eyes scanned your body the entire time, until you were stood completely exposed to him, the coldness of his bedroom giving you goosebumps.

And when you looked to Kenny, you saw him taking his mask off and pulling his hood from his head. That's when you moved, straddling his lap, a cheeky smirk on your own face, as you ground your hips down against him, earning a low groan from your partner, his eyes lidded.

"What a slut. So hungry for me aren't you?" Kenny grinned, his teeth catching his bottom lip, his hand coming up to massage your breast, while his mouth attached to your other, his tongue circling your nipple, earning a gasp from you, spurring him on further.

You could feel his hard cock pressing against you through his trousers, and god how you wanted him so badly, you knew you were bound to leave a wet patch on his clothes.

As if he'd read your mind Kenny pushed you off him, making quick work of the rest of his costume, flinging it to the floor, before cornering you against his bedroom wall, his hand reaching round your neck to pin you against it.

"I've been waiting for this feeling all day." Kenny whispered, lining himself up before pushing himself inside you, his free hand holding your thigh up to wrap your leg round his waist.

And he wasn't waiting for anyone, he was needy, and so were you, and he knew that. His thrusts were at a reasonable pace, his hand loosening its grip round your neck, letting the moans you'd been keeping in out of your now parted, swollen lips.

"Kenny! Fuck, I need more!" You moaned out, and Kenny knew you needed more, you liked it rough, animalistic, but only as your villain form, when you and Kenny had lazy morning sex it was slow and sensual and loving, but this, this was two enemies giving in to their sexual desires, and Kenny knew your body was his to do what he wanted to.

"How about this, slut?" Kenny hissed, his other hand lifting your other leg up, both legs now wrapped around his waist, his hands on your ass, holding you up against the wall, his pace quickening as he continued to fuck into you, your back arching and a symphony of moans leaving your mouth.

"So tight. Fuck." Kenny moaned, his hips snapping back and forth, driving himself into you faster and deeper each time, your head spinning and your moans becoming louder.

And when he felt your walls begin to tighten round him more and more, Kenny knew you were close. "P-Please, Mysterion, please. Can I come?" You just about managed, Kenny's thrusts keeping up their brutal pace, a smirk on his face as he moaned himself, you pussy tightening round him in all the right ways.

"Come for me, slut, scream my name." Kenny groaned, his grip on your ass tightening as he felt your walls tightening round him, your orgasm crashing over you, your back arched against the cold brick wall of his room, and your moans filling the bedroom, as you called out his name, your pussy pulsating round Kenny's throbbing cock.

"K-Kenny!" You practically shouted, and he knew he was going to come there and then, his thrusts becoming sloppy, pushing himself in to the hilt one final time, before spilling his load deep within you, your name spilling from his mouth over and over, calling out for you as you did for him.

Kenny pulled out of you, lowering your legs gently to put you down, both of you panting desperately for breath. And he threw you a towel he had brought into his bedroom earlier, because he knew this would happen, better to be prepared right?

Once you were both cleaned up and had finally caught your breaths, Kenny pulled you into bed beside him, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his head between your breasts, a sigh of content leaving his mouth.

You ran your hands through his messy hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, making him gaze up at you fondly.

"I love you, Y/N. How did I ever manage to pull a girl like you?" Kenny cooed, his eyes wide, and you swore you were lost in them, a small smile on your face, pressing your lips to Kenny's for a quick peck.

"I love you too, Kenny. And I'm the one that's lucky here, not only did I pull Kenny McCormick, but I pulled Mysterion too!" You said, making you both laugh.

"You certainly did, baby. You you'll have us both forever."

#kenny mccormick #kenny south park #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick smut #eric cartman #kyle brovlofski #stan marsh #stan south park #south park #kyle south park #south park kenny #kenny sp #kenny x reader #south park x reader #south park smut #south park fandom #south park x y/n

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venuscnjunctpluto · 2 years ago

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Megan thee stallion and astrology ⭐️

Credit: @insertlanasong

(Im in no way blaming dv on where the stars were in the sky. the gremlin and all these other male bullies are accountable for their OWN actions)

*Lilith in 1st: I’m not gonna stfu about this placement. When I say men are intimidated by us and we don’t even have to speak. Megan constantly gets told she’s acting like a man and trying to play a man’s game for being openly sexual. These same people lust after her all day long. It should be noted how many men online and in the industry seemed to gang up on her for someone nobody gaf about all like that and who had a history of violence. With Lilith in 1st people are waiting for your downfall and you have to be mindful of who is around and why they’re there.

*her aqua sun she’s definitely been very giving and she’s been promoting charities for cancer, I think she’s trying to open some hospitals, organized a clean the beach event, and advocated for victims of abuse esp black women.

* Megan has a Leo mars and people have compared her performance energy to Beyoncé who also has a Leo mars. I do enjoy this placements ability to put on a show

*Shes a good representative of Taurus rising women as she can go into multiple spaces. She’s recently visiting the White House and her classy Venusian energy fit in well.

* megan stated in a live that she can’t stay away from Virgos and her ex friend Kelsey was one also Moneybaggyo. She has Virgo in her 5th which could explain her gravitating towards them because of the fun and excitement that house brings.

*Megans bf Pardison has Venus square Lilith (which represents his relationships w women and she’s Lilith prominent) his mars in her 7th/8th house cusp and hella 10th house synastry. She’s known as the hot girl coach and was introduced to the public as looking for a fun time and not taking men seriously. But of course 10th house synastry makes you wanna go to show that person off esp Venus.

*I love Nickis music so barbs pls don’t come for me (idgaf) but nicki has been arguing w herself. She’s a sag sun and Venus so these placements are likely In Megan’s 8th house. People like to debate what the planet person feels but it’s alot of mutual energy. Megan seemed to be a fan of nicki and they seemed to get along. Then something clearly happened and nicki started throwing shot after shot at Megan since 2021. And to this day *in my tiktok voice* nicki is arguing w herself in the public eye coming after Megan HARD. I’ve had an 8th house stellium with this guy and it’s gone very similar it’s a love-hate until it’s straight up hate after a certain point. It’s been weird to see this considering nicki has never so overtly came after somebody this much esp somebody she co-signed and collabed w. And nicki is a sag Venus (aka a bisexual which Megan is as well) so I wouldnt be suprised if this could be a scorned lover situation.

Torey Lanez’s pluto squared Megan’s sun, moon, and mars. His Lilith conjuncts her sun plus his mars in her 1st house. That man was obsessed w her and he already had a clear anger problem that he admitted to during an interview. My cousin has sun square pluto w her bf and he’s very controlling and insecure when it comes to her.

7th house synastry though very comfortable Can also be be open enemies. For ex: Megan thee stallion after that gremlin shot her you had numerous MEN coming to attack her (Of course with Lilith in 1st) . I would like to name three of them. Drake, Joe Budden, and Dababy all Scorpio placements. Megan is a Taurus rising w unconfirmed degrees but I bet she has 7th house synastry w all of them. Drake has Venus, sun, and mercury in Scorpio. Joe Budden has a Scorpio mars and Dababy has a Scorpio Venus. They all came for her at one the most difficult times of her career just to drag her down even more. Drake and Dababy publically lusted after her and Joe budden was drooling in his seat interviewing her prior to his comments about her. Im a late Aries rising and I’ve had issues w many Scorpio placements because they had some underlying issue w me for no reason. Scorpio In the 7th is very difficult because if our enemies don’t know if they wanna harm us or literally f*ck us it’s insane. She even said something similar in a freestyle.

I hope she keeps glowing cause her vulnerability and strength is inspiring🫶🏾🫶🏾

#astrology #taurus rising #megan thee stallion #astro notes #Scorpio in 7th #10th house #8th house synastry #beyonce #leo mars #lilith in 1st

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klausysworld · 2 years ago

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hiii maybe you could do like a head cannon about enemies to lovers with klaus and they both love each other from the start just can’t really admit it and eventually when they’re alone somewhere klaus finally kisses her

Enemies to Lovers- Klaus HCs:

You and Klaus have been on opposite teams since the start. He brought nothing but havoc to mystic falls and you just wanted to keep it in one piece.

Him killing Elena didn’t overly bother you seeing as she came back, but then he turned stefans humanity off, nearly killed Jeremy and had Tyler bite Caroline in the space of a few weeks.

He was making it impossible to ever like him.

When Damon and Katherine had summoned his ‘father’ Mikael, you had sympathised with him.

When you found him crying silently on the steps of the Lockwood mansion, you quietly sat next to him just so he wasn’t alone. Without a word he leaned his head to your shoulder and you held his hand in comfort.

Since that day you both felt something for each other.

Klaus was certain that his feelings were one sided. The look you had on your face when you had seem the things he had done. He knew that you saw him as a monster and he decided it wasn’t worth trying to prove you wrong.

You noticed the change in demeanour quickly. He would always give you a look as though he were challenging you after he had done something awful.

The threatening glint in his eye as he approached you covered in blood, it was unknown whose it was but it wasn’t something you wanted to question.

That side of him you didn’t understand. The darkness swarmed around him like moths to a flame. And yet he didn’t ever look particularly fulfilled like he said he was. “Killing is what satisfies me, it’s what makes me happy, perhaps it’s just because I’m sick in the head, a thousand years can do that you know”

But he was a liar. For guilt and shame still floated within his heart whether he was ready to admit it or not. Unfortunately for him, you were still able to see some of it.

And at times you found yourself liking him more and more. Like when you had rushed to Carolines to her aid her, only to find a nervous original leant against his car

“Klaus?” You called confused and he looked to you instantly “i healed her” he muttered as he opened his car door and got in, quickly shutting the door and starting the car only for you to run and get in the passenger side. “You what?” “Get out” he demanded, his cold demeanour immediately back as he almost threw you out the car a drove off

He was a confusing character. He made it easy to dislike him.

He became ruder and snippier. Pushing and prodding and your insecurities to get a rise out of you. And what made it worse was that he always succeeded. You always bit back, yelling at him, one time he shoved too hard and you threw a book at his face, it was unexpected and hit him hard. But he didn’t do anything back, the shock was running through him as he stared at you in shock. The same surprise on your face as you hurriedly rushed out the room and back home.

He teased you relentlessly about your little outburst, always pretending to flinch when you would move your arms. He made you feel worse and you began avoiding him.

Klaus realised your distance and began making further effort to get in your way. ‘To ruin her day’ he told himself but deep down he knew that it was because he just wanted to be around you.

You became accustomed to his insistent behaviour and built a tolerance to him.

Slowly he grew a little softer when with you, even if he didn’t notice it much.

His personality was naturally flirty, it only seemed to amplify around you. But his affection also came with touchiness, and that became almost normalised for the two of you, to joke about and have a hand on one another.

When the mystic falls gang noticed they confronted you and shamed you. So once again you tried to pull away from Klaus, stand by the people you had grown up with instead of the man who had harmed them.

But he always came back, he was far too persistent and knew which buttons to press to tick you off, to have you sticking around longer

He found he didn’t care if the majority of your conversations consisted of yelling and screaming if it meant you spent time with him.

And you almost craved those moments where you would let out and all pent up emotions without judgement because who was he to judge you?

It was when he had called you in a case emergency, urging you to come to his house, did you realise how deep your feelings had grown over the months of messing about.

He was practically crawling across the floor, yelling in agony as he tried to explain the white oak embedded in his back.

The only way to finally bring him out of his delusion was to kiss him. To take his mind completely off the situation. He was mid rant about how he should never had called you, you were useless and never cared for him, he didn’t know why he even thought of you.

You swiftly reminded him why as he melted to your touch, not missing his chance to show you just how talented he could be, his hands knowing where go touch to have you moan in his mouth and cling to him by his shoulders.

When you pulled away, you both panted heavily, staring at each other with shock and…a little something else.

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riaarivic · 2 years ago

Text

HATE 9: DANGER (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 Warnings For this chapter: mentions of death, drugs and vioence, foul language, mentions of organized crime. Smut (yes, finally) explicit sex scene.

🌙 A/N At no time do I (the author) encourage this activity in life, it is important that you know that the criminal acts in this book are that, a crime, as well as harmful to health and should not be romanticized. This is all a work of fiction for entertainment.

Love, Ria

🌙 Chapter wordcount 5k (the longest one yet)

🌙 Series Index

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

HATE 9: DANGER (M) I MYG x F!reader

You don't have me, but I'm so full of you I'm going crazy So why are you doing this to me? Why are you making a fool out of me?

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

The more you fuck around…

The more you’ll find out.

Your grandmother used to tell you that everytime you got in trouble and in the Seven Moons’s case: They’ve been fucking around for too long.

The Seven Moons’s history went way back to the first kkangpae during the Japanese occupation and the fights against the yakuza. They smuggled guns to the country during the military run in the 80’s. And of course were the Drug Kings during the clan wars 20 years ago. Every time a new leader rose, the clan had a new name and the member deleted every piece of evidence that linked them to their previous organization.

A clean page to start over.

And in the end if there’s no body, there’s no crime.

That is why they were yet to find out.

The Seven Moons under Kim DoHan’s rule, were untouchable. Every crime committed by his orders was untraceable to him and his sons; they always made sure that someone else got their hands dirty and in the case they did finish a job they had enough people in power to make sure no one would ask questions.

All of the seven young leaders' criminal records were so squeaky clean they could run for office. You were surprised you didn't see any pictures of Kim Namjoon or Kim Seokjin kissing babies on their files.

You could do a lot of fucking around if you were sure you’ll never get caught.

That was the reason you were sent to Seoul in the first place.

And for the past 3 days you learned one thing.

Kim Dohan and his seven moons were very fucking good at fucking around and not finding out.

But pride was the cardinal sin of the powerful and more often than not, the reason for their demise. All you needed was to find an opening on The Seven Moon’s arrogance.

And the best one you found.

Was finding your way to Suga's bed.

You weren’t really proud of it. But you have to do what you’ve got to do.

“By any means necessary” were the exact words of the Lieutenant and sitting on the Shadow’s face on your second night in Seoul fell into that category.

Not that you had other motives for it.

The sun was about to rise in the sky when you finally reached your bedroom in the mansion and you knew you could not sleep tonight, not after what you saw at Jhope’s warehouse.

You’ve witnessed violence, you served in the military, you’ve been in a war.

But you’ve never seen something so cruel…

It was pure evil, the way those bodies piled up.

And the message.

“This is how the devil pays for your loyalty”

Written with their own clansmen blood.

Releasing a tired sigh you sat on your bed and took out a small digital recorder in your pocket.

You had placed the device inside the meeting room earlier that day during the office tour. Hoping to catch some valuable information from the clan leaders. Now, as you got your laptop on your lap, you plugged in your earbuds and listened to the recording, your heart pounding with anticipation.

At first, the voices were barely audible, as if the speakers were deliberately trying to keep their conversation from being overheard. But your trained ears picked up snippets of words and phrases.

It was a conversation between Kim Dohan and Mr. Lee “your father”

"...the heir is a liability..." said Kim Dohan in a tone that made your blood run cold.

"...we must eliminate… before they gain too much power..." responded Mr. Lee and you made a mental note to find out who they were. You suspected they were talking about the Jade Dragon.

"...make it look like an accident..." Your hand shook as you rewound the recording and played back the crucial part.

This wasn’t exactly what you had been waiting for, a piece of evidence that would help you bring down the entire clan.

But it was a death sentence for the clan’s heir, who was unaware of the plot against him.

It had to be Kim Namjoon.

You wondered what drove Kim Dohan to decide to get rid of his only biological son. You had to act fast. You couldn't let them carry out their plan. But how could you warn Namjoon without blowing your cover?

If they killed him and then wiped out the clan’s record there was no chance for you to find any evidence.

And without any evidence, you were done.

Mission Failed.

Fuck.

You needed to rest.

You closed your laptop and stared at the ceiling, your time was running out. And this piece of information was a drop of water compared to the sea of lies that existed around the Seven Moons clan.

You needed something more, something bigger.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

The next morning on the Seven Moon's diningroom.

Awkward was not a good enough word to describe how everyone at that table was feeling.

Namjoon had a black eye.

Suga had a split lip.

No one knew how Jungkook had ended up with a hickey on his neck.

Jimin was still furious with everyone for making such a fuss in his club.

Jhope looked like his cereal was made of rusty nails and he had to swalow them whole.

Taehyung was looking at you as if he wanted to kill you…

Although that was nothing new.

You looked exactly how you felt.. like shit.

Jin was the only one who seemed to be calm.

And as if the tension at that table didn't feel like it could be cut with a chainsaw. The clan’s Leader joined you for the first time at breakfast.

“Miss Nari, you have been in my house for a few days now and we have not had the opportunity to talk” Kim Dohan's deep voice crossed the dining table and his tone of authority made everyone present stop what they were doing “I hope you are adapting well to life here in Seoul, if there is anything you need, do not hesitate to let me know”

“Thank you very much, sir” You answered him looking at him from afar feeling like his gaze could pierce through any lie, even for you, a trained agent looking at Kim Dohan was like looking straight in the devil’s eyes “I have everything I need, you are very kind” finished your phrase with the most convincing smile you could give.

“Everyone can tell you have more than you need” Taehyung muttered quietly, just enough for you to hear him and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. You weren't quite sure if it was anger or embarrassment you felt.

“If you want to say something at my table, Kim Taehyung, I hope you'll say it loud enough for all of us to hear” The Leader pounded his fist on the table making everyone jump a little out of their seats.

“Oh, Father, I was saying that Miss Nari seems to feel very comfortable at home. That is so great, because by the end of next month this will be your house too. When she marries one of us” The young gangster replied with a shit eating grin.

You little shit.

Oh, how you wanted to wipe the smile off his face!

After the awkward breakfast was over, you felt like you were about to poke Taehyung with a toothpick right in the eye. When one of Kim Dohan’s bodyguards approached you quietly “The Leader wants to speak to you privately”

Your blood froze on your veins, if there was something you did not want to do was to be in the same room as Kim Dohan… alone. You looked at Suga who was on the other side of the room and he gave you an understanding smile.

If the leader wanted to speak to you alone, he will have it his way.

You took a deep breath before opening the doors to The Leader’s office. The devil sat behind his massive desk, his piercing gaze fixed on you as you approached him. "Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the chair opposite him. You sat down, your heart pounding in your chest.

"You know that you are playing with fire, don't you?" Kim Dohan said in a low voice. "You may have fooled my men and my sons, but you can't fool me."

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your mind was racing. Have you been discovered? Did Kim DoHan know that you were an undercover agent?

"I know about you and my son," Kim DoHan continued, his eyes narrowing. "Don't think that anything happens in my house without me knowing. You're lucky that I respect your father so much."

You felt your heart sink.

Out of all the things you thought he could have discovered. That was the less awfull.

But you could not be at ease. Now that you knew he was onto you.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammered, trying to stay calm.

"Oh, pretty lily. That was your first and last mistake. Do not lie to me," Kim DoHan said, his voice rising and his gaze darkened. "I have eyes and ears everywhere. This is my home and my kingdom to rule. You think you can deceive me, but you can't. You're playing a dangerous game, flower. And if you're not careful, you're going to get burned."

You noticed Kim Dohan kept calling you flower.

Just like Suga did.

And that made you wonder if he was involved in this.

You felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. Kim Dohan's words were a clear warning, and you knew that you had to be more careful than ever. You nodded, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor.

"I understand," you said softly. "I won't let it happen again."

Kim Dohan leaned back in his chair, his expression inscrutable. "See that you don't. I won’t say I don't understand young love, but I really do not appreciate two of my sons fighting in a dark alley like hormonal teenagers over a girl. " he said, dismissing you with a wave of his hand.

You rose to your feet, your legs feeling weak. You knew that you had narrowly escaped a dangerous situation, and that you had to tread carefully from now on. As you left Kim DoHan's office, you knew that the stakes had just been raised, and that the game had become even more deadly.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Later that day...

You were lying on your bed trying to process all the information you had gathered over the past days.

The realization dawned on you, it became clear that the Jade Dragon, the Chinese triad with a dark history, had resurfaced and were seeking retribution. The ability to send a message to the clan's secret hideout suggested that they had a mole within the organization.

And not just anyone had access to that place, it had to be someone with power.

You had enough reasons to suspect that Kim Namjoon was into some shady business, and you were determined to uncover the truth. Your gut suggested that it may have something to do with his father's plans to eliminate the heir.

With everything that happened so far, you were aware that time was running out, and you had until the end of the following month to compile all the evidence you could.

This was your only opportunity to bring the clan to justice.

The moment the new heir was appointed, the clan would be rebranded under a fresh name, and all traces of their previous identity would vanish.

To make everything fucking worse, you had a hint that Kim DoHan was aware of your true intentions.

And early today he wasn’t just talking about you fucking his son.

Tap, Tap, Tap

Someone was tapping quickly on the balcony window in your room.

Ah, yes...

You weren't thinking about your main problem.

And said problem just hauled himself over the balcony railing with ease, his lean muscles rippling under his black shirt. He stood before you, an inscrutable expression on his chiseled face. In the moonlight light filtering through the curtains, his features seemed even more striking - the sharp jawline, the piercing obsidian eyes, the faint scar on his left eye that only added to his rugged appeal.

“Good evening Little flower. Can you let me in?” he said in his low, melodic voice. He took a step closer. You could smell the heady, sandalwood scent of his cologne, feel the warmth radiating from his body. Your heart thudded in her chest.

“What are you doing here Suga?” you asked as you opened the window, the cold night breeze made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"I've been trying to figure something out,besides, I thought it was funny that we both used each other's window as an entrance,” he winked at you “your room smells like Lilies Is that on purpose?”

“Suga, what are you doing here, are you on drugs?” you let out an inpatient sigh and the black-haired man stopped in front of you and took a lock of your hair still smiling at you “I'm clean as a Russian athlete before the Olympics. Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name, when we were alone, did you forget it?”

“No, I didn't”

Of course you hadn't.

You had imagined calling him by his name when you kissed him again.

But that couldn't happen again. A flash of your conversation earlier with Kim DoHan passed through your mind.

It won’t happen again.

“What are you trying to figure out in the middle of the night in my room, Yoongi?” If you thought that man was close to you before, now Suga was almost completely attached to her body.

"I need your help."

You swallowed hard. "I don't know how I can help you."

He smiled, a slow, dangerous smile that made your knees weak. "I think you do. I see the way you look at me. The way your breath catches when I'm near you," He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers trailing along her skin and igniting sparks beneath her flesh.

“But this is not about that. Although, we could talk about it later” he said.

Your heart raced. You knew after that conversation with Kim DoHan that you were flying too close to the sun, seeing Suga behind his father's back. But you couldn't deny the attraction you felt for him, the way his eyes seemed to look right through you right now.

"What do you need my help with?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It's about what you saw last night at Jhope's warehouse," Suga said, pacing back and forth across the room. "Can you tell me everything?."

You felt a surge of adrenaline. This was exactly the kind of opening you were looking for. If Suga trusted you enough to ask, you’ll make him trust you enough to speak.

"It was awful," you said. “I’ve never seen something like that before.”

"I know, pretty flower, but I really need you to tell me what you saw," Suga said, turning to face you. "I need you to find out what is happening, before it's too late."

You sighed as you began to recall everything you could remember while Suga listened carefully. That man's gaze was the only thing that could terrify her and make her want to run straight towards him at the same time.

"Thank you" he says, taking a step closer to her. "I can’t tell you right now how much you’ve helped me today. But I promise you, it's important."

You feel your heart skip a beat as he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from your face.

"I don't know if I can trust you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He takes another step closer and looks deep into her eyes. "You can trust me," he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

For a moment, you stand there in silence, the tension between you palpable. Then, he leans in, taking the lollipop out of his mouth and presses his lips to yours, and you felt yourself melting into his arms.

As you break apart, you realize that you’re in too deep.

Suga made you feel as if you were running directly towards a cliff.

Ready to jump to the abyss.

Fuck the consequences.

“I actually came to figure out something else. You see, last night you were high and I’ve been told not to trust drunken truths. Bu you said you like me-”

“I don't like you.” You interrupted him trying to sound as convincing as you could, but Suga could see right through you. He smirked and took the lollipop between his fingers and tapped it to your lips. You understood what he was asking immediately.

You licked the lollipop looking right into his eyes.

Sweet.

He took it again and put it in his mouth, rolling it around his tongue.

“Good girl. But you taste like lies.” The man ran his thumb delicately over her lips and brought his mouth close to your ear. “If you don't want me to kiss you again, tell me and I won't touch you again” his voice sounded almost like a growl “But if you'll give me your permission, I want to check a second thing”

Flying too close to the sun.

That was exactly what it felt like to kiss Suga.

“What thing?”

“If I really like you enough, that I don't give a fuck about all the trouble you're going to get me into” Now you the one who kissed him this time.

Oh, you were going to burn.

Suga bit your lower lip so that you would open your mouth a little and his tongue could roam freely over yours. His hands moved down from your face and over your neck, shoulders, breasts and hips.

Tonight, it felt different than the first night in his bedroom.

Tonight Suga was a man on a mission.

His plan was to leave no corner of your body unknown.

Between the haze of desire that you were feeling, your mind came to its senses.

As an undercover agent, you knew the risks of getting involved with the son of one of Seoul's most powerful mafia leaders.

Kim DoHan had fucking warned you less than four hours ago.

But when he dropped you onto the luxurious bed of your bedroom in the Mansion, you couldn't deny the attraction between you. As his intense gaze swept over your body, you felt a rush of excitement mixed with fear.

As he leaned in to kiss you, you couldn't help but wonder if this was all part of his plan. Was he using you or did he genuinely want you? You pushed those thoughts aside and surrendered to the pleasure, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

“Yoongi.” you sighed between kisses, and to him his name sounded like the best melody he had ever heard in his life.

“Oh, little flower you're going to be the fucking death of me.” he growled lowering his lips to her neck to bite her and she let out a moan.

That was the last remaining thread of control for both of you.

Yoongi drank your body like a man finding water in the middle of the desert, and when he undressed in front of you, you thought you forgot how to breathe.

The first night, he didn’t take his clothes off. He focused on you, and your pleasure.

But tonight it was different.

His muscles flexed under his smooth white skin that glistened every time the moonlight landed right on the beads of sweat that ran down his body. Yoongi was covered in small and large scars that danced among the black ink that adorned his body. He had the clan tattoo right on his chest and you wanted to run your fingertips over all his markings and then, then you would kiss them.

As you took him in, your eyes rested for a second on a path of dark hair trailing down his belly inviting you to look just a little lower. You held your breath when you saw him in all his manhood.

He smiled at you, like someone who is about to commit a crime and has absolutely no regrets

“Everything you see is yours. All you have to do is ask nicely” he said, voice deep and musky.

“I don't beg, ever” you said. He sat on the bed between your legs; both hands caressing the skin behind your knees.

“There's always a first time, flower” he said, not breaking eye contact, and you felt that all the heat of your body traveled to your center. Your skin vibrating with the low purr of Suga’s voice. You realize now the size of him and you wonder if he could fit inside.

Just like the last time he savored every second, and you realize something about Suga:

He’s a tease.

He wants to bring you close to the edge, just enough you can graze the delicious feeling of the fall; to take you away from it.

He’s like a cat you think. He is playing with his prey before he finally eats it.

“Fuck, Yoongi” you whimper when he cups your panties with his hand, applying enough pressure to make you roll your head back and close your eyes.

“You don't like me. You say. But look how wet this pussy is, and I haven’t even touched you” He’s right, you are arguably the most excited you’ve ever been in your life, and you’re embarrassingly soaked.

“I never thought Miss Lee NaRi would be a liar” you wanted to pretend that sentence didn’t stroke a nerve in your heart.

If only he knew.

You can only stare as he lowers himself to lift your shirt inch by agonizing inch. Slowly, he revealed your soft skin. And you had to bite your lip to prevent you from begging him to touch you.

Luckily he wasn’t in the mood to make you wait any longer as he roamed his hands through your body. “Fuck, flower. You are beautiful,” he said more to himself than to you. But you can’t help but feel happy as you realize that you have the same effect on him as he has on you.

“Can I?” you realize he’s looking at your breasts, and when you nod, he dives down to take one in his mouth, sucking a nipple through the lacy fabric of your bra. You moan, threading your fingers in his dark hair, and you hear the little moan that escapes his mouth encouraging you to pull harder. And without thinking you do.

Another husky moan leaves his chest as he languidly rolls his tongue over your skin. Reaching behind your back you unclasp your bra and he pulls it off your body to toss it somewhere around the room.

He looks back at you and the sight that meets his eyes is sinful. Your hair sprawled between the satin pillows and your pupils blown with desire.

This time you don’t have the effects of the drugs to blame.

This is all Suga’s work.

And He knows it.

“How do you want to come, flower? My tongue? My fingers? or…” His gaze trailed down to his member that stood proudly between you two “Or do you want me to fuck you and ruin you for everyone else?”

Your entire body clenches at the last question, and for some reason you agree that fucking Yoongi will, in fact, ruin you.

“Fuck me” you said half a whisper half a moan.

“What did you say, pretty flower?” you rolled your eyes at him and before you could bark any answer he slid his fingers between the lace of your panties. Playing with your opening and finding the exact destination with a long stroke. Head snapping back you mean loudly “Do you want me to fuck you? Hm?” his middle finger caressed your clit in circular motions dragging you closer and closer to the climax of your own pleasure.

“I need your words.” he growled

“Please fuck me, Yoongi” you moaned his name and he smiled wider.

“Good girl. Everything you ask for, I’ll give it to you” He hooks his fingers to the elastic band of your underwear and takes it off your body. You assume it fell somewhere close to where your bra landed. “I’ll fuck you. I’ll ruin you for everybody else. But first, I’ll have to stretch you.” he pants as he enters two of his fingers on your cunt “You’re so fucking tight, flower. So fucking perfect for me.”

You gasp as you feel the delicious stretch of a third finger entering you slowly, his other hand holds you tight by the waist. He leans over your body to kiss you once again and this time you feel like you’ve lost your sense of reality.

You can still taste the sweet taste of the lollipop on his tongue as you suck on it. Kissing him like you want to take all you can until everything is inevitably taken away from you.

“I- I fucking hate you” you shudder feeling flustered under his gaze as he moves back to look at you.

“Don’t start lying to me again” He steps back just enough to lift one of your legs and rest it on his shoulder. You feel your body tremble in anticipation. He slowly rubs his full girth on your swollen clit, that’s when you realize he’s teasing you again.

He starts moving at a maddening pace. Slowly rubbing himself in wet circles, without breaking eye contact “Lie to me again and see what happens”

You swallow hard and you can’t help but think you have done nothing but lie to this man.

From the very first day.

You planted a mic in his bedroom.

You are using him to get information so you can bring his clan…

His family to ruin.

If only he knew, this morning you sent a message to the base with the exact day the clan is planning to announce the heir.

You just gave the Seven Moons away to INTERPOL.

But as he slowly enters you inch by inch and you scream his name you also realize one thing

You are also lying to yourself.

And you don't want to discover how.

“There.” You plead as he pushes his final inch inside you. You whimper and shiver at the delicious feeling of having him fill you to your limits. “Oh my God Yoongi”

“I think I heard a pretty girl say she didn’t beg”

“Shut up, and fuck me”

In one swift motion he pulls out only leaving his tip, just to slam himself back so hard you hear the bed bang against the wall. He starts thrusting hard and you start seeing stars as you forget your own name.

The slow torturing pace which he touched you is long forgotten as he enters you fast and hard. He’s unforgiving. Raising your hips so he can hit the right spots at the right angle. A moan chokes in your throat as he leans down again to kiss you.

This time you can feel the cold feeling of his chains against your bare skin.

“Yoongi” you cry, feeling hot tears run down your cheeks.

“It's okay, flower. I’ve got you. Let go” he grunts as he starts picking an even faster and harder pace. His hands move from your legs to caress your clit moving in rapid circular motion. And the devilish spark that lights on Suga’s eyes tells you he’s onto something. You don’t have to wait too long when he presses his hand down your lower belly to feel himself inside you.

You think you’ve lost your mind, whimpering, moaning and crying of pleasure.

Suga was right, he just ruined you.

Your body shocks as a white hot wave of pleasure runs through it. Your orgasm hits you hard and he continues to fuck you through it as he gets closer to his not long after. You hear him gasp as he comes feeling the hot ropes of his cum land on your skin.

“Let me clean you up. Pretty flower, stay here” he pants still not able to regain his breath. As if you could really move.

He brought a wet towel from the ensuite bathroom to clean you up, and he didn’t leave it until he made sure you were thoroughly cleaned.

That night Yoongi took you again.

Several times.

You knew you were playing with fire.

And if you weren’t careful enough.

You will get burned.

But even if you knew you were both risking your lives.

Suga visited your balcony every night for the rest of that week.

And fuck the consequences.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

One week later.

You were in one of the clan's armored vans on your way to meet Anya. You had talked earlier that day on the phone and agreed to meet at her apartment. You managed to convince Namjoon to send you with only one bodyguard.

Now, that was a mistake.

As you exited the freeway and slowed down to cross to the narrower streets the car you were in was rammed by a black SUV.

You felt yourself spinning around in the air.

Shards of glass flew everywhere.

You could only hear the screeching sound of metal hitting the ground.

Ten armed men got out of the cars that surrounded you.

You heard a shot.

Blood.

You were not sure if it was yours or the driver's.

Someone forcibly pulled you off the roof of the car that was now on the ground.

Your head hurt too much.

You wished you had listened to Namjoon about taking more bodyguards.

You closed your eyes and could see Suga's smile the night before, when you were talking in his room.

Yoongi.

Come and save me.

The more you fuck around,

the more you’ll find out.

And now, you were about to.

“Make it look like an accident”

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Well, ahem..... Hello?

You guys know there's always a chapter you would never read out loud I think this is mine. This is actually the first time that I write full on smut... and it was something.

Anyway, how are you guys? I hope we're all doing well, satying healthy and surviving this tour because... Min Yongi is a fucking menace. LIKE!? The rapping? The HAIR??? The whiskey drinking? The "You guys listent too well" UMMMM EXCUSE ME SIR BUT THAT IS ILLEGAL!

And HAEGUM, when i watched the video i giggled and kicked my feet because that is Hate! Yoongi. What a beautiful time to be writing a ganster au.

Ps. Thank you SO MUCH for liking and I have to thank each an every one of you for reblogging Hate! I really, really appreciate it.

From the bottom of my chicken heart,

Thank you.

Love,

Ria 🌙

Tag List @drunkzseok @allamericanuniverse

If you want to join the tag list. You can coment this post or send me an ask!

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts suga #bts mafia au #yoongi #yoongi smut #bts au #bts #run bts #bts jin #bts namjoon

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mercymaker · 9 months ago

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so we had a fake wedding episode in the grand bloodstorm adventure, but get ready the new season's about to start and we're opening with some drama

astarion and mal are trying to track down a relic that's rumored to have the power of protecting a vampire from the sun. neat. they find out that its last known location is at some ancient noble house's castle, so they go there but they get caught sneaking around.

fully expecting to have to fight their way out of there, both of them are surprised when the lord of the house instead offers a warm welcome to his house, taking particular interest in mal, showering her with attention and gifts.

he also reveals that the relic has been lost to the surrounding woods after their house was attacked by outsiders, but both astarion and mal are quite suspicious of that version, so they stick around to find out more. while mal focuses on charming her way into the lord's heart so he'd tell her the truth, astarion goes out into the surrounding town to gather information.

turns out, the local legend tells that the relic is, in fact, still somewhere in the woods, as when the invading forces attacked, the lady of the house took all of their most important belongings, shoved them into a bag, strapped that to a horse that she then tried to flee the castle with, but was shot down by archers and fell to the enemy as the horse galloped deep into the woods. it's said that the horse was eaten by a giant demonic bear, but the treasure still remains somewhere. and that leads various parties to venture out into the forest to seek it.

astarion decides to join one such party, if not to find the treasure, then at the very least to get more information. he leaves maleane alone with the lord, who seems to be quite infatuated with her. mal reassures her lover that she can handle herself in case something happens. she's a sorcerer, after all.

the vampire spawn & the gang set a small camp out in the woods after traveling for most of the evening. they drink and tell stories over the fire and astarion starts sneakily peppering in questions to get the information he needs. one of the drunk men decides to go on a bit of a spooky retelling of the most horrific event he had witnessed. the great attack on their town by the most brutal monsters. it happened over three decades ago, when he was just a little boy.

they came in the night, with their intricate armors, their swords and their arrows and their daggers in the dark. some of the commoners fell to poison before any blades could lick their throats. those that didn't flee in time were either massacred or put in chains and dragged back to the underdark to be used and sold as slaves. both the lord and the lady of the house were brutally slaughtered in the ritual known as the blooding, leaving their only son an orphan.

oh, so the guy's entire family was killed by drow? and who is he currently hosting in his massive castle? hmm, yes, another drow.

but not to worry! he dressed mal in the finest of silks and set up the most elaborate dinner for just the two of them. an array of intricate pastries, wild salmon and spit-roasted steak, and, of course, a flagon of his favorite wine to wash it all down.

they talk over the dinner, maleane slowly trying to poke and prod for more information about the relic and what happened to it. the lord, eventually unravels the same story that astarion heard over the campfire, and as the puzzle pieces slowly slide into their places, mal suddenly feels lightheaded. her breathing starts to become erratic as she struggles to catch her breath. and when she rises from the table, in a frantic attempt to flee, her legs feel like they're full of lead. the same petrifying feelings spreads throughout the rest of her body, pulling her to the ground in an instant.

as she gasps for air to fill her failing lungs, the lord walks right to her, watching the paralyzed drow fight the effects of the poison, and tells her how much he hates her kind. how long he's been dreaming of this moment, to get his hands on one of the monsters that took everything from him. how they all are the same. how he's going to peel the skin off her flesh, bit by bit. he chuckles at her panic, at soft wheezing coming from her throat. he wasn't sure how much of the poison to pour in her glass. after all, drow are known to be resistant to most of them. perhaps he gave her a bit too much. but it doesn't matter. by the time it wears off she won't be able to escape.

he then drags her to his personal quarters, a little dark room with chains and cages, a large wooden table stacked with books and scrolls and sketches. everything you need to know about drow and more. he takes the beautiful soft gown off her body and shackles her wrists and ankles to a rack.

a beautiful monster, he calls her, dragging his fingers from her cheek, down to her breast. yet, soon his hand is replaced with a dagger. this is more than just revenge. it's something darker and deeper. the obsession with drow, all that hatred and rage latched on something else entirely. the want to have her, to own her, to break and hurt her again and again and again, for years and years. because that's how long he's been carrying all that venom inside. it's not going to be over soon, maleane realizes.

it's almost a relief when it's his hand touching her again instead of a blade. but she knows that the intent behind the gesture is just as sharp as the bite of a dagger. she can't utter an incantation. she can't move her body to channel her magic. it's been so long that she felt this helpless.

then she feels her mind start to slip, drifting away somewhere. the lord's unhinged ramblings turn into echoes from a distant room. the throbbing pain softens into an almost-numbness. for just a brief moment, maleane is not there.

it's the odd shift in the surroundings that drags her right back into the dark cell. a sudden, violent gurgling sound. when she looks up, all mal sees is red. the blood pouring out of the lord's mouth and throat. the shock still frozen in his eyes before his body collapses just as hers did before. and then, two red irises, framed by a set of worried brows, staring at her. astarion.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion romance #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #oc: maleane #maleane/astarion #mal adventures #assault cw #sa cw #torture cw #idk this started off as a little thing and i just kept going #and i feel like i could keep going but it's time to stop somewhere alright #let me know if anything else needs tagging btw #reuploading because tumblr told me to eat a bag of dicks and i cried like a baby

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pink-heart-jam · 5 months ago

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Enemies to lovers, anyone? 👀

Enemies to lovers is always peak mlm material! This has always been one of my favourite tropes in fic and it couldn’t be any different when it comes to BL. School/office rivalry, fuck buddies, revenge, toxic obsession, unhinged mythological wars… this list has a little bit of everything and I’m sure you’ll find something especially crafted for your tastes. Get ready for that delicious angst + hate intense sex combo and enjoy!

Checkmate by Tan (E)

Soohyun doesn’t have a “first love,” but he definitely has a “first hate” - his high school classmate Eunsung. A smooth-mannered all-star, Eunsung snaps up first place in everything, leaving Soohyun always trailing behind in second place.

Ennead by Mojito (E)

The once peaceful land of Egypt has been stained with blood under the tyrannical rule of Seth, the god of war. Horus, son of the god Isis but not yet one himself, rises to challenge the throne and put an end to the chaos and destruction.

Glasses Cloth and Playlist by Gwak jongpil (E)

Two people in the catalogue department fall in love, get quickly married, and emigrate to another country, leaving their positions to be filled by new recruits Bada Lee and Seomin Hyun.

Out of Control by Bboong (M)

The story depicts the school life of 2 different guys: Yuri, considered as the school's most handsome guy who hates ugly people, always followed by crowds of girls but always extremely cold and distant towards them, and Jaerim, the school's ugliest guy.

Park Hanhoo's Manager by Kim Tac (M)

Chansol never experienced friendship before he met Park Hanhoo, a troubled boy who terrifies school gangs and hides his face with an unruly haircut. But when a horrific event turns Chansol's world upside down, he is forced into hiding and reneges on his promise to stay by Hanhoo's side.

Part-time Partner by Cherrymanju, Ilyoil (E)

Kyuho has become smitten with the new club member, Yoongun. Not only is his face gorgeous but there’s something about the way he stands his ground confidently. When, out of the blue, Yoongun says “you’re not my type”, the two start a love-hate relationship for the ages.

Semantic Error by J. soori, Angy (E)

Sangwoo Choo is a stickler for rules. So when his classmates free-ride on a group project, he doesn't credit them. But this prevents one senior, Jaeyoung Jang, from graduating. And like oil and water, Sangwoo and Jaeyoung don't mix. Can Sangwoo debug Jaeyoung – a semantic error in his perfect life?

Steel Under Silk by Snob (E)

Yeonjo used to have it all: a highly respected family, a kind brother, and a comfortable life. Now, with his father executed for high treason, his last kin dead, and damned to a lifetime of slavery, Yeonjo has nothing to lose. All that is left is vengeance, and his chance comes when the new governor assigned to the region is none other than Kwon Hee-ryang, the man who destroyed everything Yeonjo loved.

The Foul by Chepali, Joo (E)

Ever since inheriting his father’s debt as a teenager, Joo Hawon has been doing whatever it takes to buy his freedom back, whether that means working as a VIP dealer in the casinos of Macau, or taking other riskier jobs. But when a mysterious casino guest offers to pay off his debt if he successfully finishes a job on a cruise ship, it’s too good an offer to turn down–despite his instincts warning him of obvious danger.

You Get Me Going by Moscateto, Oh doyeon (E)

Not even if he were the last man left on Earth! Youngwon yearns for true love, but his overbearing nature always leads to failed relationships. Lately, he finds himself clashing with his polar opposite, Hyunwoo, at work. However, things heat up when they go on a business trip together. Will these sparks of enmity turn to love?

#bl manhwa recs #boys love #enemies to lovers

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the-bar-sinister · 3 months ago

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Crimson Sunset, Azure Dawn (6259 words) by thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 2/? Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: shuggy, mishanks, cross guild polycule

Additional Tags: Polyamory, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Enemies to Lovers, The Cross Guild (One Piece), Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Getting Together, Drama, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Smoking, why is shanks like that, Background Relationships, Rating May Change, POV Third Person Limited, POV Alternating Summary: Red Haired Shanks had wrapped himself in mystery and glory and vanished from the lives of everyone who cared about him, leaving a trail of old flames lost and confused in his wake. Years later, Mihawk would have been content to finally give the duel long owed him. Buggy swore he simply wanted to give him a piece of his mind. Crocodile just wanted the pair to have some measure of closure, difficult as it might be.

No one expected the rising star of the scarlet emperor to crash so suddenly and violently to earth. No one expected to fish a lost and broken Shanks out of the wreckage of his ship.

But maybe it takes disaster for old flames to flicker back to life, and for Cross Guild to bring in its most surprising member.

Prologue & Chapter 1

Note: the prologue of this fic and one scene from the first chapter originally appeared in Deicide: Onigashima Afterparty and can be skipped if you have already read that.

Prologue

The Cross Guild ship sat anchored a few miles off the coast of Wano with the former marine vessel locked in tow for when they departed. It had been a hell of a few days.Crocodile and Mihawk had practically gang pressed him— and the crew— into what he had called a 'recruitment mission', chasing Smoker and his marine boys to the closed island after getting intel that they were there.

It was a crazy move. And crazier still, it had worked. Cross Guild now had a couple of famous marines (and an undercover marine pirate!) and their crew on the roster, a fact which seemed to please Crocodile to no end, and admittedly, probably would further demoralize the navy.

But that wasn't what was on Buggy's mind.

Buggy had gotten a few drinks into himself by the time he’d worked up the nerve to confront Crocodile. He and Drake had celebrated his switching sides the best way they could— by getting drunk and flirting back and forth for a few hours— before Buggy had finally had to excuse himself.

He rolled up his baggy sleeves and took a deep breath before he slammed open the door to the little lounge he knew Croc was skulking around in with as imperious a face as the new Emperor could muster. “Crocodile! I gotta talk to you!”

Crocodile, of course, didn't even lower his cigar. He didn't even answer. He just waved him over. He was sitting in his tall armchair, feet on the table, with a bottle of rye and the morning's newspaper.

Buggy sauntered over with his hands floating off his wrists (and rested against his hips) and a big frown on his face.

“I gotta talk to you, I said!” He leaned in. “About my crew!”

Now Crocodile took the cigar out of his mouth, and breathed smoke in his face. "Alright, clown. I'm listening. What about your crew?"

Buggy breathed it in with a little shiver, before he huffed.

“...you gotta treat my men with a little more respect. Cabaji’s tellin’ me that you’re going around barking orders at him and the rest of my guys.”

Crocodile stared at him for a long moment, and then he patted his lap. "Sit down, Buggy."

Buggy huffed, flushing brightly as he stomped over and dropped neatly into his lap. “I mean it, Croc. They’re my men…they respect me. You can’t just push ‘em around like they were yours.”

Croc's arm slithered around him and his hook dropped across his legs. "Buggy. Sweetheart. I bark orders at everybody. You know this."

Buggy pursed his lips in a frown, looking him in the eyes as he looped an arm around his shoulders. “...I mean, yeah. It’s onna the charming things about you, Croccy. But Cabaji’s gettin’ annoyed.”

Crocodile puffed on his cigar, for a moment, and then pressed it into Buggy's mouth, still damp with his saliva. "That's your swordsman, right? Long dark hair? Bunch of knives?"

Buggy took a puff off it, hanging around his shoulders as he relished the taste. “Yeah, that’s the one. My number one acrobat. A real standout guy. He thinks you’re disrespecting us.”

"Does he now?" Croc snorted, and stroked the curve of his hook over Buggy's thigh. "Alright, Bug. There are two solutions to this. Either one– you stick to me like glue so I can tell you the orders and you bark 'em…"

He left the suggestion hanging for a moment.

Buggy’s leg rubbed against his hook as his torso disconnected to lean into his body. He blushed, huffing softly. “You ain’t the worst company. But go on.”

"Funny you should mention that," Croc chuckled. "Option two is you bring your 'number one acrobat' to bed with us and we sort out questions of respect that way."

WIth that, Buggy went bright red, and his head popped off to turn around and look at Croc with wide and flustered eyes.

Cabaji would be into it, of course.

It’d probably sort it out, one way or another, if he was invited there. It wasn’t as if they weren’t already intimate.

“I’ll think about it,” he said stiffly. “...on that note! I got something I gotta bring up about him.”

Crocodile cackled, and grabbed Buggy's floating head by the pigtail. "Don't fly away on me, clown. What about him? Planning a spring wedding?"

Buggy yelped, and his head fell down against his shoulder again.

“N-no!” he huffed sharply. “I wanna get him a devil fruit! He’s worrying about keeping up with all the freaks in the New World.”

Crocodile twirled his fingers through Buggy's hair for a moment. "Huh, smart man. He doesn't already have one, then? Is he a haki guy, or what?"

“He’s an acrobat. And a damn good one too.” Buggy poked his chest with his floating hand, though…he did nuzzle Crocodile’s hand. “And he’s not a haki master like Mihawk or nothin’.”

Crocodile stared at him, even as he stroked his thumb over Buggy's jaw. "So what, he's just a guy? And he hasn't fucking died yet?"

Everybody from Crocodile's 'crew'-- Baroque Works, what was left of them– had a Devil Fruit. Everybody he associated with had some trick up their sleeve.

Buggy brushed the scruff of his jawline against his fingers with a nod. Cabaji was amazing for having come this far with him— even against all the shit they faced, he was still alive and kickin’.

That had to count for something.

“He’s just that good, Croc. But he wants to be better.”

"You know what? It sounds like he's fucking earned it," Crocodile grumbled. He patted Buggy's face not unfondly, and grinned. "I'll put in a request with Doffy and get him a fruit lined up. And I'm thinking you should bring him to bed whatever else we figure."

Buggy grinned widely at him, his body floating in pieces against the other man.

“Damn right he has! I’ll let him know, Croccy!” He winked. “...about the invitation, too.”

"Good man," Crocodile leered. "I–"

They were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door, at which Crocodile barked, "enter!"

Buggy’s head jerked up, and his body parts rapidly snapped back together as he wriggled on Crocodile’s lap with a grumpy murmur of ‘my respect as a co-leader!’

Crocodile didn't let Buggy up, his hook still firmly over his lap– but it didn't end up mattering anyway, it was just Galdino.

"Sir. Buggy."

"Mr. 3," Crocodile drawled out with the air of an almost affectionate nickname. "What's with the knock?"

"Some uh, interesting news, actually." He glanced back and forth between Buggy and Crocodile in a rather nervous way– despite that, Buggy thought whatever the glance was about, it didn't have anything to do with the compromising position.

“Hey Galdy.” Buggy murmured as he fell back against Crocodile with a sigh. “What’s up?”

"Well…"

"Out with it," Crocodile barked. He grinned wickedly. "Promise I won't shoot the messenger this time."

Galdino gave them a look somewhere between sour and wry. Crocodile's attempt at murder had become a joke somewhere along the way between them.

"It's Red Haired Shanks," Galdino said. "Doflamingo's faction reported in by transponder snail that his ship's been sighted around the other side of Wano."

Buggy’s face blanched underneath his makeup, and his eyes went wide over his smile as his lips closed.

“.....” He gripped Crocodile tighter. “.......Shanks… is in Wano…as we speak???”

Crocodile grimaced and raised his hook. "Is every damned Emperor on the sea in the same hundred mile radius?"

Galdino held his hands up. "Don't ask me, I just took the message. But… it sounds like it's close, anyway. Even with the recent shake up."

"Wonderful." Crocodile grumbled. He squeezed Buggy's arm. "Alright, Galdino. Thank you for the information. Were there any other details?"

"They said it seemed like he was making ready to leave."

Buggy grabbed Crocodile by the lapels, looking at him with wild eyes. “We should intercept him, before the bastard slips away again!”

He knew, distantly, he was being irrational. Something about Shanks always set it off in him. The entire reason he’d gone off at Luffy to begin with was because of that damned straw hat of Shanks’.

Crocodile's hook pierced through Buggy's leg, as his grip tightened on his shoulder. "Are you crazy, clown?"

"I'll just… leave you to it then," Galdino murmured, slipping out the door.

Buggy leaned his face nose to nose with Crocodile.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to give that red haired bastard a piece of my mind? He…he…” his hands shook, “he broke my heart, Croccy!”

Crocodile stared at him with incredulous annoyance that slowly melted away into exhaustion, and maybe a trace of sympathy. He let go of Buggy's shoulder and grabbed the bottle of rye from beside his chair, taking a long pull before putting it to Buggy's lips.

"Yeah. You've mentioned," he grumbled. ".... we're gonna have to go find Mihawk."

Buggy grabbed the bottle, and tilted it back in several long swigs.

“Yeahhh….oh he’s not gonna be happy either, is he?”

"Yeah, he sure fucking ain't." Croc shook his head. "How the hell did I end up with both of Shank's fucking exes?"

Buggy took another long swig of rye before he leaned in to kiss Crocodile’s lips. “I think that says a LOT about you and your taste in men, Croccy.”

Crocodile kissed him back, before grumbling. "Well, I fucking hate that. Alright, let's go find Hawkie and give him the bad news."

Buggy laughed, leaning back enough to look him in the eyes. Despite the big smile on his face, he was reeling.

Shanks. Fucking Shanks. Red Haired Shanks the Emperor…the dopey cabin boy from when he was a wide-eyed idealistic brat himself. A boyfriend, a confidant…at least before he changed.

His fingers tightened on the bottle. He was going to need a lot more to drink if he was going to deal with him today.

On the Rocks

With the aid of his spyglass combined with his observation haki he could keep watch on someone from quite a distance away. Could watch them far before they knew he was there.

Red Haired Shanks stood perched on the rail of his ship, glass in hand, watching the crew of the Thousand Sunny make ready to depart Wano.

Now was the time. After what he'd seen the kid do in the fight against Kaidou— the white haired deity that had flickered to life from his devil fruit's power— now was the time to tell him the truth about the fruit. About his destiny. About what Roger had said.

Now was the time to challenge him, and see what he could really do.

Shanks tried to smile, but something gnawed in the pit of his stomach.

He should be happy.

Everything had been leading to this moment. Everything since those whispered words from his captain long ago. Ever since seven years ago when Luffy had claimed what should have been—

Since Luffy had claimed his destiny.

Shanks should be happy.

Shanks shouted the order to make ready to sail. They'd follow the Sunny at a distance until they were a day out from Wano and then make themselves known.

It was good enough that Luffy would be happy. That so many other people would be happy. He was sure that Roger was smiling somewhere, still.

He had to be sure of it.

Mihawk sat on the deck of the ship, carefully cleaning Yoru with a reverent and practiced hand. Under the broad parasol he’d insisted they install, he watched the sea beyond them as his fingers and his cloth trailed over Yoru’s shining black blade.

“Daz. Do you think the tea is steeped?”

The blood of the marines who hadn’t yielded was still fresh in his mind, the thrill of the short but interesting battle and its resolution of a whole cadre of new crew and executives for their little organization still buzzing distantly behind his sharp and canny eyes.

Cross Guild had devoured two of the Navy’s finest. Welcomed them, and their powerful underlings, into the fold. It was a victory; and now they moved on to the next step in their plan to whittle the Marine’s strength to nothing.

"Should be," Daz nodded as he eyeballed the teacup steeping on the tray.

“Thank you,” he glanced back at him with a subtle smile as he held his blade up to the light. Bergamot tea, steeped strong— he trusted Daz to make it correctly. “What do you think of our new friends, the former Marines.”

Daz was the man that Crocodile had brought from his adventures in Alabasta. Mihawk's own man, Wallace, was with Perona, currently.

"As long as they don't stick a knife in our backs, I think they'll be great." Daz handed him the cup of tea. From the smell of it, he'd gotten it just right.

MIhawk took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance before taking a long sip. Yes, it was perfect. “They seem to have impressed Crocodile…and he is not a man who trusts easy.”

"Sure isn't," Daz agreed. Mihawk knew that he was well aware. Apparently, Daz had been working officially for Sir Crocodile and Rain Dinners for quite some time, while working unofficially for "Mr. Zero" and Baroque Works without knowing that the two were one and the same. And yet, he'd followed him even afterward. Through the depths even of Impel Down.

“He seems to have put quite a bit into that crew— I’m not a trusting man, myself… but if he trusts them I will endeavor to do the same.”

Daz nodded. "Spent some time with a couple of 'em last night. They seem alright. I hope it won't kick the captain in the teeth."

Mihawk looked up at him with a thin smile. “If it does, I’ll simply have to hang their heads from the prow. But let us hope it’s as good as it seems.

He liked Daz. It was a comfort and a relief to know that Crocodile had had someone looking out for him in the years when they couldn’t meet under the watchful eye of the World Government.

Once, and once again in a way, he had been Crocodile’s right hand. His first mate and swordsman. He and Daz were still settling out exactly what that meant for the two of them– Daz having occupied the spot that he had vacated for so long– but it didn't seem to be a real problem.

"If you need a hand with that, let me know."

MIhawk chuckled as he sipped his tea again. “I might need a hand with it, should push come to shove. I–”

"Hawkie!" Crocodile snapped sharply as he stomped up from below deck. He was dragging Buggy with him, a bottle of alcohol in the clown's hands. Mihawk could already tell something was up. He leaned over the back of his chair, teacup by his side and Yoru over his lap. His keen eyes scanned the bottle of alcohol as his lips drew into a tense frown.

“Crocodile. Bad news? Have the marine recruits betrayed us?”

"Nothing as simple as that," Crocodile growled around his cigar. "Got a report, didn't we, Bug?"

Daz shot an apprehensive glance toward Mihawk, clearly picking up on the same 'bad news' feeling that he was.

Buggy slid over grinning a smile that wasn’t at all reassuring as he wiggled the booze bottle his way.

“How about we have a drink, huh? The boys said they saw uh… they saw a ship off the coast of Wano.”

Mihawk raised his eyebrow at him with a low hum. “And…?”

Crocodile put his arm around Mihawk's shoulders. "And it's Shank's ship, Hawkie."

Mihawk’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Red Haired Shanks. The two of them had a long and storied history. Meeting during a grand adventure, becoming rivals— the clash of wills and sword that reverberated around the world— and Shank’s injury bringing with it distance and the World Government’s interference as Mihawk became a proper Warlord of the Sea.

“What brings him to Wano, I wonder.” He stood smoothly up from under Crocodile's arm, and lifted Yoru to place upon his shoulder, glowering at the island in the distance. “...bring us around to him. I’d like a duel.”

"You're kidding me," Crocodile growled. "Now you wanna duel him? Hawk, I brought Buggy over for you to talk some fucking sense into. We can't roll up to Shanks with one god damn ship and a handful of hungover marines!"

“You think he’ll simply kill us then?” Mihawk glanced over his shoulder at Crocodile as Buggy laughed nervously and popped open the bottle to take a long sip.

"Hell if I know! Man was always a wildcard, and look what he did to the two of you! All I hear about is him decimating crews all over the grand line; do you two think he wants to have a fucking nice little duel and a chat?"

Daz quietly walked over and put a hand on Croc's shoulder. "Easy there, captain."

“What if he wants to say he’s sorry to me?” Buggy asked with a sniff as he hugged the bottle to his chest. “He’s got a lot to make up for, that bastard!”

Mihawk huffed sharply, his arms crossed over his chest. “His legend has been growing, but it isn’t as if I have stopped my rise either. If you don’t want to face him, Crocodile…I can go on one of the lifeboats.”

"Like hell you will!" Crocodile barked. "Like hell I'm letting you go off alone."

Daz raised his hand. "If I may?"

Buggy flopped against Crocodile again, his hand detaching and bringing the bottle to Mihawk.

He took it with a nod and had a long swig. “...I’m listening.”

"Why don't we send a messenger and see if he wants to talk and or duel," Daz offered, scratching the back of his head. "It's not like that would be hard to do."

Crocodile grudgingly slipped his arm around Buggy, and did the same once more to Mihawk. He gave each of them a speculative look. "Well? Daz has a point."

Mihawk leaned against him with an affection most never picked up on, huffing a long sigh. “...it’s a good point, Daz. I suppose it would come across as less of an act of war that way.”

Buggy poked his fingers together. “...can I write the letter?”

"Not without a second pair of eyes on it, Bug," Crocodile grumbled. "But with approval– yes."

Buggy looped an arm around him with a wide grin. “I promise Croccy. You’re not gonna regret this!”

Mihawk wasn’t so sure, but as he stared out at Wano with narrowing eyes he knew something for certain.

He rested his shoulder against Crocodile’s, jaw set as he reckoned it.

It was long past due to face the ghosts of the past.

Buggy’s feet were pacing the floor. Back and forth and back and forth as the rest of his body hovered around the cabin while chewing on the ends of his gloves.

They’d done it. The heavily edited letter had been sent to Shanks’ ship— the deed was done and the offer to meet was sent.

He was terrified. He hadn’t spoken to Shanks in years and years; he’d only seen him rarely too, like the time he’d spotted him in Marineford during that massive war.

But Shanks— like he’d always been ever since he left— was far too important to notice Buggy back.

Buggy's brooding thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Captain?"

The voice, and mode of address were immediately familiar.

“Gah!!” Buggy whipped around with a big grin. “Cabaji! My main man! Come in, come in!”

When Cabaji slipped into the room, shutting the door quickly behind him, Buggy could already tell he knew something was up. There would certainly be rumors around the ship already about Shanks being sighted, and Cabaji was one of the few people who'd know that that held a significance for Buggy— even if he didn't know exactly what it was.

Cabaji nodded to him. "I heard a little rumor going around."

“Is it about fucking Red Haired Shanks?” Buggy’s lips twitched. “...because we just sent a letter to him. Mihawk wants to challenge him to a duel, I guess.”

He whistled, giving Buggy a dubious look. "Mihawk's going to duel him? What about you?"

Buggy grimaced. “...I’m gonna give him a damn piece of my mind. Probably from the ship, and through an amplification snail.”

"That's it?" Cabaji looked confused. Maybe it was because of the way Buggy had always talked about Shanks— when he talked about him at all, when he was drunk— like Buggy had been dead set on murdering him to death. "You're sure you don't want to get to him before Mihawk does?"

Buggy grit his teeth, one of his feet kicking a ball off to the side where it ricocheted off the wall.

"It's complicated, Cabaji! I REALLY wanna get down there and show him just how much I’ve grown. I wanna show him the FULL power of Buggy the Clown! But Mihawk’s got his mind set.”

Cabaji put his hands on his hips. "So Hawk and Croc are running roughshod over you again, Captain? What makes Mihawk's grievance more important than yours? Anyway, if Shanks is such a bigshot— shouldn't the two of you put him down together?"

He was losing Cabaji’s faith, he knew it. He half dropped into the sofa of his cabin as his feet ran to catch up, his brow knit.

How the hell was he supposed to explain the complicated bullshit that seemed to inundate his relationship with Shanks? Mihawk was pissed off at Shanks for, admittedly similar reasons, it seemed.

Heartbreak. Heartbreak when someone they were close to started drifting away because of some grand responsibility or power trip. The worst part was Buggy didn’t even know WHAT bug Shanks had gotten up his ass. One day, one conversation with Roger and he was suddenly not the man he’d grown up with.

“It’s not ...they ain’t running roughshod on me, Cabaji! They’re…it’s complicated, dammit! I don’t wanna kill the guy YET. I wanna talk to him first. He’s got some things to answer for and he ain’t answering from the bottom of a grave!”

That seemed to cut through Cabaji's dubious look-– but it was replaced by another, even more conflicted expression. The acrobat leaned in closer to him, until they were shoulder to shoulder. He put his hand on his back. Usually; not always, but usually, Cabaji waited for Buggy to touch him first, like he was waiting for permission.

"Captain, can I— can I ask you a personal question? I've kinda wondered for a long time now…"

Buggy sighed low, under his breath, and looped his arm around Cabaji with a shake of his head. “I think I know what’s comin’...I’m listening.”

Cabaji rubbed his jaw, leaning heavily on his captain. After a moment of silence he finally asked. "Were you and Shanks like… together? Is he an ex?"

“Ghhhhhhhhh.” Buggy’s shoulders sagged under his arms. “Yeah, he’s an ex. He and I …we were real close on Roger’s ship. For a long fuckin’ time too.”

Cabaji wrapped his arm more tightly around him and pulled him closer. "Well shit. No wonder its so fucking complicated. Okay that's… I can see why you maybe wouldn't jump right to killing him. Is Mihawk going to kill him? Do we need to rein that in?"

Buggy groaned. “I’m pretty sure they’re exes too… I think he just wants to beat him to prove he’s stronger or some shit. You know Mihawk…a hell of a guy, but he tends to conflate mortal peril and romance.”

"That… tracks. I mean, he's not wrong about that, " Cabaji murmured. Then he got indignant on Buggy's behalf again. "But hey! Hey, my question stands! Why does he get the first crack at him if he's an ex, too?"

“I mean, probably because he’s got a big fuckoff sword and jumps to use it at a moment's notice!” Buggy threw his hands up. “But you know what? You’re right! I’m gonna take the first crack. Damn the consequences!”

"Hell yes, captain!" Cabaji grinned widely. "You know I'll back you up no matter what."

It was a big offer, when you thought about it. There were worlds of power level between Cabaji and Shanks or Mihawk. But he was still ready to jump into the frey.

“Cabaji…” Buggy grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a half hug. “Dunno what I did to get a guy half as loyal as you. I’m gettin’ you that devil fruit…gonna have Doflamingo hunt for it right away…you really are my best man. ...when we face down Shanks…I know you’re gonna have my back.”

Cabaji squeezed him back, the conflicted and dubious look that had plagued his features since he'd entered gone completely now. "Damn right, Captain. You'll always have me."

Buggy was damn lucky. Damn lucky that the crazy fucking acrobat from the East Blue had followed him all the way into hell.

He wouldn’t have it any other way

It had been almost a full day since their messenger had gone to Shanks, and had yet to return. Mihawk had been practicing with Yoru. His blade sang with each swing, decapitating dummies with ease as he danced around the ship’s deck with his intense and glowering stare.

If Shanks answered— if Shanks wanted that duel he’d long denied the man— then Mihawk was going to ensure he walked away victorious. He almost didn’t notice as Crocodile came out from below deck, his eyes narrowed in on a dummy in a hat.

Crocodile stood and watched for a moment, before he cleared his throat. "We got an answer, Hawk."

Yoru stabbed through the heart of the dummy as Mihawk turned his gaze to Crocodile with a sharp grin across his face. "Has he accepted?"

"You're gonna want to see for yourself." Crocodile smiled back at him, but it was a more careful smile than Mihawk usually saw written on him, as if he was still judging the situation. He held a folded scrap of paper out to him.

Mihawk reached out and grabbed the paper with a thankful nod, before looking it over with his mouth set in a frown.

It’d been so long. The world government and Shanks’ own piratical rise had caused the rift between them— the strange shift in his personality after the loss of his arm had sealed it. He’d forsaken the man as his rival during his spiral into depression and isolation. Part of him hadn't expected anything back at all.

But there was the message, plain as day.

Shanks had accepted the duel.

With a caveat.

"See what I mean?" Crocodile said, puffing on his cigar.

According to Shanks' note he was in the middle of some kind of 'important engagement' and would meet for the duel at Queen Ellery Island after that business was concluded.

"Queen Ellery Island…" Mihawk’s eyes narrowed. "...I know that island. So he wants to duel there in three days, does he? Where might he be heading now?"

Queen Ellery was an autumn isle— like his own home for so long— in the nearby cluster. A dark little metropolis constantly covered in twilit clouds. A haven for crime and vice.

"Good question," Crocodile grumbled. He blew out a long puff of smoke and offered his cigar to Mihawk. "According to our intel, it looks like he might be toward Ellery already. Off in that direction, at least."

MIhawk took his cigar, and took a long intake of smoke to calm himself. Despite the placid expression, some well of emotion was bubbling inside him. Tension…desire…excitement, even distress over the wasted time.

"He used to be my rival."

Crocodile closed the distance between them, looping his good arm around his shoulders, and squeezing him.

"Wasn't even all that long ago, all things considered. I remember you two used to duke it out every time we crossed paths."

Mihawk nodded. "I used to think his blade would remain ever sharp, keen enough to help my rise to even greater heights." He leaned against Crocodile with a frown. "...and then he started to change. I changed too."

Crocodile leaned his cheek on the top of Mihawk's hat. "We all changed, Hawk. Time does that. The shit we all went through does that."

Crocodile had been cut down, his dreams dashed to pieces on the floor against Whitebeard… Mihawk had reeled from the splash damage, his own faith in everything so shaken that he began to turn in on himself.

The World Government had erected walls with their offer of ‘Warlord’--- lines of invisible transgression that pushed him from even his former captain.

It was no surprise those walls drove Shanks further away.

"Life changed, that much is true."

"Derailed all our lives for a long time," Crocodile murmured. "But, me and you, we're getting back at it, right? Maybe the ol' ginger's rethinking things, too."

Mihawk tilted his head. "Do you think so?"

Shanks… Mihawk had seen the road he was headed down ever since their last parting. Ever more the Emperor, ever more closed into himself and his crew as they worked on who knew what strange purpose.

Ever further from them, on some quest only the scion to the Pirate King could understand.

"Who knows?" Crocodile shook his head, and ran his thumb over the edge of Mihawk's jaw. "Maybe we'll find out when you duel him, eh? Get the two of you drunk after, and figure out just what the hell has been going on."

Mihawk nuzzled his hand with a flush. "I’ve been wondering… I’ve been wanting to learn just what mission’s seized him so strongly to the exclusion of all else. It all happened when he returned without his arm."

"I've been wondering that too," Crocodile grumbled. He tugged Mihawk over to the bench in the corner of the room-– away from the destroyed dummies-– and sat them down. "He was always distant, and weird. But kinda fun, yeah? After that he seemed to lose his sense of fun."

MIhawk slid over with him with a low sigh, nodding his head before he sat against Crocodile with a nod.

"Yes. After that, he’d lost his sense of fun, and it seemed….something inside him. His freedom perhaps? His drive?"

"Can't say I'm any better," Crocodile grumbled. "Wonder what it was that finally threw Shanks over the edge though. You ever find out how he lost the arm?"

Mihawk shook his head. "Only that he went back to some island he’d been spending time around, and came back a different man."

"Must be a hell of a story." He shook his head. "I assume you want me to lay a course for Ellery? Or have you decided you'd rather blow him off."

Mihawk smiled grimly. "....Turnabout may be fair play, but I won’t forgive myself for letting this chance slip by. Set the course, darling. He has much to answer for."

"Hey, Bug, guess what?" Crocodile asked, putting his arm around Buggy's shoulders as he snuck up on him from behind. How the hell did a man that big walk so silently?

Buggy jolted, falling against him as his skin prickled in surprise. "Maybe wear a bell, Croccy! You’re gonna give me a heart attack!"

He spun around to look at him. He’d been busy. Very busy.

Very busy pacing around the ship like he was trying to set it on fire with the friction of his feet.

Just like normal. He was fine.

Super fine.

Of course Crocodile just laughed at him, as usual.

"We're meeting Shanks on Queen Ellery. Should be about five days from now."

Buggy’s eyes bugged from his head. "He’s goin’ to Queen Ellery? We’re really gonna go see him??"

"Yep." Crocodile nodded, thumping his hook against the back of Buggy's shoulder. "He agreed to duel Hawk."

Buggy vibrated against him, his eyes going wide. He’d agreed to duel Mihawk…Shanks. Mr. ‘I can’t even bother to notice my ex-boyfriends at Marineford, I’m too big and important and better than you’ Shanks…

Was going to duel Mihawk. In five days. On fucking Queen Ellery.

"Did he say anythin’ about me…?" he asked in a quieter voice than he intended.

"He said he's 'looking forward to a chat', yeah," Crocodile nodded.

"Wait…he really said he was lookin’ forward to it?" Buggy grabbed his shoulders with a wide grin, even as his main body half turned under Crocodile’s arms. "HAH…figured that after years and years of being Buggy-less he’d..he’d miss me!"

Sure. Buggy had been the one who left. He’d been the one who never reached out…

But Shanks had changed.

There was something about him that had shifted after that conversation with Roger. Like all the plans they’d made as kids didn’t matter anymore, and all the dreams they’d bonded over were nothing but something to grow up from.

"You need a drink about it?" Crocodile asked, staring him down as Buggy gripped his shoulders..

"Yeah… I kinda hate how fired and …" (desperate) "--worked up I get about this. You’d think I’d…I dunno…forget. After a while."

"But it still feels like a fresh wound, eh?" Crocodile shook his head. "C'mon, Bug. Let's head back to quarters, I'll get you good and wasted and you can tell me for the 10th time how he broke your heart."

Buggy huffed as he looped his arm around Crocodile.

"sounds like a date, Croccy…" He paused for a moment before he whispered. "You think he’s gonna be happy to see me?"

"Bug, if he makes you and Hawky any more miserable, I'm gonna fucking end him myself," Crocodile growled boldly. "Emperor or fucking not."

Buggy felt himself flush hotly, before he clambered onto Crocodile, arms looped around his shoulders and his body pressed against his back.

"Awww, Croccy you’re too good to us!" He kissed the top of his head. "You’re the best warlord a guy can ask for."

Three days from the message. Three days of increasing restlessness as they ticked down the moments towards their meeting with Red Haired Shanks on Queen Ellery Island. Buggy was practically chewing through his gloves as he watched the distant horizon where the sun was slowly vanishing.

He’d distracted himself. He’d worked out some last minute shit with the boys, worked on routines, calls, everything he had to do for Cross Guild with the fervor of a man trying not to think about something fast approaching.

There was very little to distract him right at the moment. Alone with the sea, the warm ruby glow of the sunset, and his thoughts.

He brushed his long blue hair over his ear with a quiet sigh and an attempt at a smile. He’d lay into him. He’d really tell him how he felt the last handful of years. And then maybe things would work out.

Maybe he’d even say sorry for whatever the hell had changed between them.

He was contemplating all the possibilities when something started to nag at him. The clear water reflecting the ruby sky suddenly wasn't clear, but littered with large chunks of debris.

"Uhhhh…" He half leaned over the bannister of the ship, staring down at the water with a frown. "Guys!? Croc? Mihawk? Cabaji? Anyone?? Looks…looks like there’s some trouble around here. Shanks mighta gone to town on someone."

"Huh? What's up, ca–" Cabaji came running over from across the deck, looking over to see the wreckage too. He whistled. "Damn, that's definitely a whole ship."

As Buggy followed his gaze westward toward the sun on the horizon, he saw the trail of debris become thicker, and a dark plume of smoke cloud the sky. A particularly large piece of hull nagged at the back of his mind.

Did he recognize that ship?

It took a longer moment of squinting at it to realize exactly how he did recognize it

"You’re kiddin’ me…there’s no fuckin’ way." He was breathless. "...that’s Red Haired Shanks’ ship. That bow, that flag…"

"What?" Cabaji sounded completely incredulous. "No way, you're kidding?"

That was when Buggy spotted it.

Some poor soul collapsed crossways over a piece of flotsam hull barely the size of a door.

Buggy hissed through his teeth

"Cabaji! Get the boys who don’t got devil fruits and fish that poor bastard outta the drink!" He leapt up on the bannister, grabbing some rigging to peer down at him. "It might be onna Shanks’ boys. We can hear about what the hell went down from him!"

Cabaji had already started moving before Buggy had finished, grabbing rigging from the deck, and holding onto it as he hurled himself straight into the water, and headed for the unlucky man who'd wound up in the drink.

As his gaze followed the acrobat the man on the wreckage drifted in the tide, bringing him around to a better angle for Buggy to see his bright, red hair.

It was Shanks.

Buggy hissed through his teeth, his eyes wide and panicked as he could only wait for Cabaji to arrive back on deck. He was no use in the sea.

"Shanks…what the hell happened to ya…what did you even need to DO?"

#shuggy #mishanks #cross guild polycule #crocbug #crocobug #crochawk #wanitaka #bughawk #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #buggy the clown #red haired shanks #one piece #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: one piece deicide

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a-998h · 7 months ago

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Hello, can you please do Bucci gang hcs with a reader who freestyle raps while they fight/in their free time? Their stand is literally a giant boom box (like how Aerosmith is a tiny plane)

Stand Name: Music Factory

Bruno Bucciarati

He is a little confused

when you both first met anyway

You two met when he saw a performer on the street, you, who was barley getting money fro tourists and stuff

He took you in and how you're a member of team Bucciarati

He learns you Stand's power When a street creep tried to touch you

You basically rattled the creep's brain and the surrounding area with Music Factory when you turned up the volume

Like, there were cracked windows, walls, and street

He now understands how your Stand works

During off time, he's happy to let you rap all you want

During fights, he hates it cause it puts a target on your back

Swears Music Factory can hear him and plays his favorite songs on an off day

Is happy your rapping bonds you, Narancia, and Mista together

Is sometimes annoyed when you play the same song over and over again

Will listen to your rapping if you want him to

Proud of your rapping and fighting spirit

Leone Abbachio

Unlike Bruno, he hates it so damn much

He likes peace and quiet... you're everything but that

He listens to his own music and yells at you to turn your's down

Doesn't understand why you rap

Thought Music Factory was a normal boom box, so he tried to change the volume

Suddenly the restaurant felt windows shake

Once he realizes Music Factory is a Stand.. he is more annoyed

Tries to ignore Music Factory and your rapping

When he sees you rap during a fight... he debates if he should leave you behind

Then he sees Music Factory shake the area... he now tolerates you both

Sometimes when he has a hard day, he hears Music Factory play his favorite song

Might request his former partners favorite song

Giorno Giovanna

At first thought it was a normal boom box

Then he tried to push the play button

Yeah... he now doesnt push any buttons on Music Factory

When he sees you rap during a fight... he just looks at Bruno, very concerned for your safety

Then he sees you use Music Factory to basically rattle the enemy...

He hears Music Factory playing people's favorite songs when they're having bad days and smiles

When you rap during your off time he will support you

Smiles that you and Narancia can bond

Also a little more of a peace and quiet lover

Part 5 Spoilers

After the death of his friends and Fugo leaving

The songs Music Factory plays, make him a bit sad

Has those songs going for hours

He uses some of his new found money to help your career in music

Pannacotta Fugo

Fucking hates it too

Is like Abbachio, so loves peace and quiet

When you rap, Narancia gets distracted and it drives him nuts

He really doesn't like it

Swears Music Factory plays songs he hates, very loud on purpose

Your rapping during a fight annoys him because you become a target

Whenever he tries to turn Music Factory off... his ears end up ringing for a bit

When he sees Music Factory in action, he just sighs

Now, ge just asks you to turn down the music and asks you to not bother Narancia during study time

Now, he will hear his favorite song when he's not busy

Will ask Music Factory to play Mozart or something when he is teaching Narancia math

Still finds your rapping during fights annoying

Part 5 Spoilers

Hums your raps are he leaves the team

Keeps an ear to news of a rising rap star

He might use his family's money to fund you

Guido Mista

Absolutely loves it

Will throw out song requests for him and Sex Pistols

Loves whenever you rap

Tries to rap along with you... he's not that good at it

When he first met you, he thought you were just entertainment

When Music Factory rocked the pavement and enemy, he gained massive respect for you both

Sex Pistols try to befriend Music Factory so it'll play their favorite songs

Has tried to put real CDs in Music Factory, then he learned his lesson

Thanks Music Factory for playing his favorite song

The only one, other than you, who can change volume of Music Factory without difficulty

Laughs whenever you rap during a fight

Part 5 Spoilers

He tries not to cry when Music Factory plays his dead friends favorite songs

Hopes to hear you made it big in music some day

Turns Music Factory off on bad days

Trish Una

She is so confused

She doesn't get how you're meant to protect her

Finds your rapping a little comforting at times

During a fight, she watches as you rap... which makes her worry

Then she sees Music Factory rattle Greatful Dead and Pesci

Now she just hums along when she's bored

When you rap, she gets into it slowly

When Music Factory plays her requests, it freaks her out a bit

She might write songs with you

Is still uneasy when you rap during a fight

Has to be reassured she's not crazy when Music Factory plays her favorite song

Overall, she loves Music Factory and your rapping, she just doesn't say it to your face

Narancia Ghirga

Also loves it

He will try and fail at putting real CDs in Music Factory when he thinks it's a real book box

Will listen to your rapping in favor of doing math, which passes off Fugo

Whats Aerosmith and Music Factory to get along

When you rap during off time, he'll rap along with you

Begs you to teach him how to rap

Has had a few mishaps with using the buttons on Music Factory

Will blast the volume when his favorite song is playing

Gives Music Factory song lists

Has tried to use headphones with Music Factory

Finds it cool Music Factory can shatter glass

Defends you when the others scold you for rapping during fights

Is the only one of the group to figure out that Music Factory will play song requests if you ask nicely

#team bucciarati #jojo bizarre adventure #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo part 5 #jojo fanfic #jjba narancia #narancia ghirga #guido mista #giorno giovanna #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #golden wind #trish una #jjba vento auero #pannacotta fugo

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ao3feed-zukka · 8 months ago

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a constellation of lovers

Read now on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/EtNWLlY by zelzebee The gang has grown up and gone their own ways; when they have a reunion at an important international political summit, what old feelings will rise to the surface? Will Sokka and Zuko finally fulfill their longing for one another? Will Katara explore these new feelings for an old enemy? Will anyone ever find out why Toph has so many apartments? Words: 8163, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), Katara (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Toph Beifong, Aang (Avatar), Suki (Avatar), Ty Lee (Avatar), Mai (Avatar), Original Characters Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Azula/Katara (Avatar), Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar) Additional Tags: Polyamory, Everyone Is Gay Read it on Ao3 at https://ift.tt/EtNWLlY

#IFTTT #zukka #sokka #zuko #avatar: the last airbender #atla #ao3 feed

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captain-joongz · 5 months ago

Text

Abraxas; Act 1, Chapter 2 Part 2

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

Genre: enemies to lovers, humour, angst, investigation themes, dark themes, eventual smut, slowburn, some fluff

Chapter summary: As spring time comes, the police station finds itself intensely focused on several cold murder cases linked to the gangs. Amidst this chaos, it's hard to find time for anything else except for grappling with the position in the team and the burning ambition to be accepted, but something lovely might just be awaiting right behind the corner. The complicated relationship with the Min gang continues to get even more muddled.

Chapter word count: 18.3k

Warnings: discussion of crimes and murders, mentions of violence and gore (nothing too graphic, they're vaguely describing a murder scene), general anxiety? (our girl is NERVOUS in this one), Yoongi almost isn't in this chapter, start of reader x OC, gets suggestive at the end (it's not with Yoongi but he IS endgame, dw), also this chapter might be a bit slower and investigation and exposition heavy

Previous part | Series masterlist | Next part

A/N: unexpected sleepover kept me busy most of the weekend but here finally comes the second part of the chapter, i'm so excited for you to read the ending hehehe! let me know in the comments or through asks what you think, i'm curious to know your opinions! <3

The early summer heat was already hitting halfway through May, and as I sat in the station that was barely AC-ed, I suffered like a dog through the sudden and surprising rises of temperatures in between of bouts of rains.

Truthfully, looking out of the window, I wasn’t sure whether I’d rather be sitting here in a half empty dead office with barely anyone present (6 o’clock on a Friday afternoon usually not pulling much traffic around these parts) or sitting in full leather on my bike by some seedy club peeping at what Jungkook was doing this particular evening like a creep.

I wasn’t able to put much time into any extracurricular activities, the current task I’ve been made responsible of forced me to spend most of my time behind a desk, scrolling through endless police reports, paparazzi photos and news articles, taking names of cases and trying to find out what kind of people they were and who they were associated with. And after the hours and hours I’ve spent on this I was truly starting to get sick of it, almost missing the few days I spent watching a warehouse in the middle of the winter only to get trolled by Yoongi. Obviously, I wasn’t made for an office job.

With a sigh I finally gave up after trying to focus on the currently opened case on my table and dragged myself to a bistro on the corner. I’ve been drinking so much coffee these past few weeks I was on the verge of throwing up anytime I just saw a brown paper cup, but I soldiered through for the fresh batch of caffeine that would allow me to die a little slower and more painfully. And as I waited in the line, I dreaded returning to the station and continuing in what’s been my sole purpose in life for days upon days.

Still not being able to move anywhere with Jungkook kind of haunted me, it stayed at the back of my mind practically every day, just calling me to go out there and do something. But I couldn’t exactly spend the whole night chasing shadows when I had to show up to work at 7 am. Sometimes I would wonder what Yoongi thought about my sudden absence, whether he was trying to uncover some mastermind psychological warfare plan while I was really just too busy to do anything other than sit in that damn building and sleep, but admittedly it did always put a little smile on my face imagining him being silly over why I’m not following his every step like before.

Occasionally I would tag along with the team for additional interviews and questionings, stand behind Minjoon and listen and absorb their strategies. Unfortunately, all the people we talked to, all the witnesses who were mostly workers from around the warehouse, they knew very well to keep their mouth shut about anything illegal. In the end we couldn’t get more out of them than them hearing shots and calling the police. Nobody saw anything and heard nothing beyond that, as it seemed.

But we knew we were going to hit the wall here, no one in their right mind would snitch like this, especially if this truly was the Min gang. For all the neutral demeanour and suave charismatic energy, people were still terrified of Yoongi. No matter the image he had right now, no matter how much he tried to situate himself as a businessman unconcerned with the underworld, everybody still remembered how he came up, how much violence it took for him to take his place, how much blood was spilt and continued to be spilt any time someone went against him. You didn’t act up against a man like that.

And given the fact the Kims were somehow involved as well, it was double the risk. A single word could cost you your life, no matter which side the hit came from.

That only left us with carefully dissecting the lives of the victims, trying to find out how they got there and who they messed with to end up massacred on a floor of a run-down warehouse in Incheon, which was a feat in and of itself, but Minjoon and Seungcheol worked on that diligently. I sometimes met him just as he was about to leave to presumably go question someone about them, but I haven’t heard much from them yet. So lately we were all mostly stuck behind our computers.

I shook my head at nothing in particular and with one last sigh I picked myself up and went back to the station coffee in hand, resigning myself to another few hours of ruining my eyesight and back at that stupid little cramped desk. These past two weeks really made me realise just how on each other we were in that little space, and how Park sat comfortably in his office doing god knows what.

When I arrived back, I was shocked to see Minjoon suddenly back sitting by his own desk submerged deep into whatever it was he was looking at. He barely even registered my entrance, and I deliberated on going up to him or going back to my own desk to not disrupt him, but in the end decided to procrastinate just a while longer.

Minjoon looked up as soon as he heard footsteps approaching and we exchanged friendly but tired smiles while he pulled out a chair next to him for me to sit at.

“Doing overtime too, I see,” he greeted me with, eyes once again glued to the monitor. I looked over his shoulder to see him reading up on a report of a crime from two years ago. The name was very familiar to me after all these days. It was one of the guys from the warehouse.

“You going over what Park Doyun was involved in again?” I jumped straight into reading the report alongside with him. It was an armed robbery from two years ago, but due to a mess up in the prosecution they were acquitted on some obscure technicality. It was honestly a huge embarrassment, because there was some good evidence, but it all went down the drain. It was the first thing that really smacked us in the face once we put the guys through the police database, because everyone was talking about it around the precinct and Minjoon immediately made the connection.

“Yeah, supposedly there was a third accomplice, but I can’t find any mention of anyone else being involved,” Minjoon muttered somewhat dejectedly, the exhaustion showing through his expression and posture. I patted him on the shoulder, trying to bring his spirits up while I was just as sick of this as he was. He only shot me a grateful smile over his shoulder and went back into the report.

The Police Academy truly doesn’t prepare you for the hours and hours of just pure research and paperwork, what a lie.

“Is that what one of the people in the neighbourhood told you?” I queried some more, desperate to distract myself from my own tasks long enough to gain some strength to go back to it. Minjoon hummed absentmindedly, but in the end gave up as well and turned to me.

“Yeah, it was the most I could get from this one old lady sitting by a convenience store on his corner,” the detective said around a yawn, decompressing into the chair and letting the day just wash over him. It was obvious that whatever he was doing today was catching up to him, and it didn’t surprise me much given that he was gone for most of the afternoon.

“What do you got so far?” I leaned back on my chair as well and turned so that we were face to face, and we just lounged there for a moment smiling at each other cheekily, “About the whole thing.”

That got Minjoon sighing again, wiping his hand over his face. “Most is the usual stuff,” the man started, launching into another long monologue brought up by my questions, “out of the six victims, two grew up in the same neighbourhood down in Gojan-dong. You know, the same old – not the greatest families, poor backgrounds, started messing around the block and got into a lot of trouble. That’s where the reports start flying in. The other four are from around there as well, but not as close by.”

I sat on the information for a moment, as this was the first time I outright asked about the details. “So they’re all from Incheon anyway?” I ended up saying, and Minjoon only nodded.

“Two of them lived pretty close to each other, went to the same school, and they have that one record together,” he continued talking, “but you know how it gets. The people living around there only talk about how pitiful it is they fell off the good path, and if there is something more organised going on beneath, they either don’t know about it, don’t want to know about it or will never talk to a cop about it.”

“But we can be pretty sure they were already tight back then,” I hummed. Minjoon moved a little on his chair to get more comfortable. I saw his eyes jump to the time showcasing on his computer before he turned back to me and the conversation, and I was suddenly hit with the realisation that he most likely wanted to go home and I was keeping him here.

“Yeah, according to the teachers they were troublemakers and there was some violence happening on other students,” Minjoon expanded on that, “and one also mentioned a kid from a school on another block that they used to hang out with a lot that was also known for trouble, but she couldn’t remember his name. She wasn’t very surprised that they died in a gang affiliated murder though, according to her they were most probably dealing already back then between the peers.”

“That’s tough, that’s real tough. Surviving on the streets like that just gets you involved in all kinds of trouble” the empathetic words spilled from my mouth before I could really think twice about it and I panicked a little. I wasn’t sure how much the people around the unit knew about my childhood, but it definitely wasn’t something I wanted to discuss with any of them, even Minjoon. Some things were just better left in the past, especially since it’d probably make my colleagues dislike me more.

“Yeah, but the worst thing is that I just can’t get the name of that third kid,” Minjoon carried on completely submerged into his own world, “I showed her pictures of the other guys, but she didn’t recognise them. Then I was trying to choke some info from an old lady sitting by one of their addresses, but she only mentioned that there were three boys involved in that robbery but couldn’t remember the third one because he was from a nearby neighbourhood, just that these three were always together and didn’t do anything good.”

“And it’s not any of the other four guys?” I asked once more, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Minjoon shook his head and leaned back onto his chair, just watching me with tired but smiling eyes.

“But I think it’s a safe bet that these three must have stood at the beginning of everything, I just can’t get the name of the last kid,” Minjoon finished with a sigh, fingers subconsciously playing with the hem of his shirt, “I don’t know how they got into the big game or where the other dude is though.”

“Do you think there’s a possibility he escaped? That he’s alive somewhere but skipped cities or something to get away from the trouble?” I pondered out loud, as we both exchanged conspiratory glances, but Minjoon just shrugged.

“I mean, anything is possible in this game really,” the detective closed the conversation with a definitive nod of his head. I thought that was my cue to go back to my desk and let him leave, but he surprised me with turning the conversation around on me.

“What about the files? How are you doing?” he asked suddenly just as I was preparing to stand up and go. For a split second I looked at him surprised, and then relaxed into the chair again with a smile.

“Honestly, it’s such an annoying work,” I complained a little whinily, allowing myself to be a little more open with Minjoon, “I have to go through every little article, report and a picture on the internet concerning the victim. Some of them are normal working class people who worked around the docks or clubs, but some are wealthy bastards.” Minjoon chuckled at me, fingers drumming a calming beat into the table.

“Some have no ties to Yoongi at all apart from like eating at his restaurant once or staying at his hotel, but some I think are worth investigating into,” I went on, giving Minjoon the opportunity to just listen to me babble for once and not the other way around, “like some businessmen that have done deals with some of Yoongi’s shadow companies or were frequent visitors of his clubs, there was this one dude that was really closely related to some charity events Yoongi put on. I think it’s worth looking into those.”

Minjoon smiled at me brightly, his whole persona suddenly lighting up at hearing me talk about the case. He straightened up and leaned towards me, hand grabbing my shoulder in a gesture that has become very familiar to me coming from him to a point when I had to fight an embarrassed blush and a smile at the warmth and pride it filled me with.

“Good job, Y/N, good job,” he said earnestly, eyes looking straight into mine until the direct contact got a little too intense and I dodged it, “I knew I could count on you with this.” This time I really did blush, an intense feeling of vindication filling me at finally having someone recognise the work I was putting into this case. I mumbled my thanks to him, too overwhelmed to even look up, but I felt his hand squeeze my shoulder in answer before he retracted it back.

“I put them into different groups,” I jumped back into the explanation to escape the atmosphere change, “the ones that are inconclusive when it comes to gang involvement, the ones that are mostly low-tier workers around the gang affiliated hotspots and the big wigs that died under strange circumstances and most likely were closely related to Yoongi’s business in one way or the other.”

I didn’t even realise I had naturally switched into calling him Yoongi even in front of Minjoon, but thankfully he either didn’t notice or didn’t think it strange. Once I clocked it though, I promised myself to make sure to never make the same mistake in front of Hwang or Park, who I didn’t want to risk questioning me about it. Was I paranoid? Maybe, but I had a good reason for it with my track record.

“Have you looked through all of them?” came Minjoon’s question after a few moments of silence and I startled minutely before shaking my head in response.

“Not yet, I’ve got like a case and a half left,” I answered him truthfully, the distaste over having to go back to my desk and keep researching this file still rotting on my table resurfacing and souring my mood. I had managed to forget I’d still need to return to it once Minjoon left and it had me slumping into my chair.

The man must have noticed my change in mood, since he gave me a small encouraging smile and then leaned towards me somewhat conspiratorially before lightly enquiring “you wanna get out of here and grab something for dinner?”. I visibly relaxed at the offered out and nodded enthusiastically basically before he even finished speaking, making him laugh heartily.

In one swift movement he was standing on his feet offering me his hand. I took it gingerly and let him haul me up, the feelings of guilt that have been eating me away for not dedicating more of my time to the task soothed by Minjoon’s approval of ditching work.

It didn’t take us long to turn off computers and collect our belongings before we both headed out into the still incredibly hot air of the parking lot in front of the station. He must have been just as excited to leave as me, with how gingerly he led us out and towards his car, only stopping when I lightly grabbed his arm. The officer turned his whole body to me, surprise and confusion written over his face at my sheepish expression. I gestured towards the other side of the parking lot where a solitary dark car stood parked.

“I’m here by car as well, we could go to the restaurant down the street so we can both leave by car?” I suggested and Minjoon as quickly brightened up and agreed.

Thus we found ourselves sitting over our respective bowls of kimchi jjigae just a few minutes later. This was a known spot for us, as they fed most of the police force from our station with the homely family run restaurant located only three minutes by foot away from our office. When we walk in, the kind middle-aged lady running it already greets us by our names and knows our tastes by heart. It was such a nice feeling to have a place like that, I had to admit that.

We both must have been pretty hungry, because for the first half none of us even spoke, too focused on our bowls and stuffing our faces like a pair of vultures. Once the dust settled and we were handing the empty dishes back to the smiling woman, we found ourselves once again just looking at each other not knowing how to start up a conversation. After few moments of awkward silence, Minjoon decided to break the ice.

“You mentioned you sorted the cases into three groups, right?” he started off the subject of our work again, waiting for me to nod and then continuing, “Once you get through them all, you should pull out the other cases we have connected to Yoongi and look through them again with the new ones in mind. There might have been things lost or not noticed.”

The feeling of disappointment that hit me was almost palpable in the air, and I felt my expression freezing into an awkward smile trying to not let it show outwardly. I didn’t want to anger Minjoon or make him feel bad about this, and I did realise I was a total newbie to the unit and a newbie to this particular investigation, but I would lie if I said it didn’t hurt that I seemed to be eternally stuck behind the computer while the others actually did all the investigating.

Minjoon still must have felt my lack of enthusiasm, even though I tried to show my agreement as happily as I could muster, and he hit me with another sheepish apologetic smile.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the man begun, hands on instinct raising as if trying to console me, “but this could be your own thing, you know? It would be your call and your own investigation. We could also ask the violent crime team to help you out with questionings.” Now, that did sound marginally better, and I found myself swaying. I mean, I really didn’t have much choice, I would still agree even if I was truly just a glorified secretary to them, otherwise I’d be booted of the team quicker than I could say ‘fuck you’. But like this, it at least didn’t feel like a complete lost.

“So, once I went through the cases, I’d have free range and I could try to investigate and close some of them?” I made sure before I truly consented to anything, and when Minjoon nodded and agreed, I relaxed a little bit.

“Okay then,” finally I accepted, “I’ll look through the old cases too.” That seemed to make him very happy, and he made sure to smile at me brightly and shower me in gratitude and praises, but I couldn’t really help the sinking feeling at imagining myself going through more cold cases. At least there was a clear end to that in sight with these.

After that the conversation shifted slightly to lighter topics and Minjoon ended up telling me some funny stories about our colleagues’ mishaps at work. I laughed at them heartily while feeling this strange rift between us deepen even more, realising more than ever that I was truly a stranger in this unit full of people who actually somewhat liked each other.

I promised myself that this time next year, I will be sitting here with the whole unit and be a part of those fun stories as well.

Later in the evening, as we walked leisurely back to our cars after finishing up at the food joint, Minjoon suddenly seemed a little more hesitant and withdrawn. At first I saw it as a reluctance to part after a nicely spent evening, but soon I came to realise that there was something he wasn’t sure how to tell me. I could see it written all over his guilty unsure face, mouth opening for a moment without words coming out and then shutting again. I waited patiently for him to gather his courage, until the man finally broke the suddenly awkward silence.

“So, we were making some plans with the team,” Minjoon opened hesitantly and immediately I felt a shot to my heart knowing I wasn’t a part of whatever discussion they were having as a team, but I kept my mouth shut. I only hummed in response, encouraging him to go on.

“Well, next Friday we’re going to speak to Ms. Kim,” he finally got out, and I froze a little, “I just felt that a heads up was needed for that particular encounter." And I wasn’t going to lie, there was a little bit of panic that seized me at the mention of her name.

Miss Kim, alias Kim Jiyu, alias the sister of the man currently in charge of Kim Enterprises and any other business the Kim family was running legal or not, was notoriously known in both the underworld and the law enforcement sphere as a very unpleasant and harsh woman that people only ever can have the displeasure of meeting. There was a lot of stories floating around about her, and most were extremely unflattering to her character. All kinds of adjectives were attached to her, from spoiled or mean all the way to downright cruel and heartless.

The meeting with her could mean only one thing – they were trying to get the meeting with the Mr. Kim himself, but as most people, couldn’t get through his sister first, as she acted as a wall between him and the rest of the world. Unless you came with a warrant, the chances of speaking to him alone or at all were very slim, most visitors got handled by Ms. Kim before they even made it through the receptionist.

I shuddered a little bit at the thought of meeting her and doing a questioning against her and the crimes her family was involved in. Allegedly. After this thing was over, I had to go to good old Jungkook and troll him a little over parking tickets to decompress from this whole ordeal.

I turned to Minjoon, taking in his worried face, and I put on my bravest expression, nodding with a gentle smile. We didn’t really speak after that again, both of us just processing the information that was traded throughout the whole evening.

When I got home, I was so exhausted I just wanted to crash into the bed and sleep for twelve hours but sleep just wouldn’t find me until the early hours of the morning, and I found myself lying there with closed eyes, brain overheating with everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours.

I nervously shimmied around, earning another judging stare from one of the maids and a warning shake of head from Minjoon, as we waited in the entrance hall to be accepted by the lady of the house.

When Minjoon mentioned going to interview Ms. Kim, I truly didn’t even begin to imagine we would go into her house. That morning pulling up in front of a huge modern mansion and getting greeted by a chauffeur and a gardener before I even made it halfway through the gate was truly a shock. I don’t know why I was expecting maybe an office or something, given the fact it was one of the richest residential parts of Seoul, but still.

As usual, my nervousness made it that I was there first, way before Sunmi or Minjoon got there, who were the two people assigned to this task, Hwang and Seungcheol trying their luck loitering around the office building where Mr. Kim must have been. It was a tactic that was already well known to me in our unit, fighting on two fronts and then exchanging found out info. In my mind I was transported months back, to the first time I was brought along, the “first time” I officially met Yoongi in the VIP lounge in Pied Piper and how I nervously sat in front of him while he laughed at me like my presence was the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him.

The feelings of unease and queasiness that thinking of Yoongi often brought along manifested themselves and I started sweating even harder, slowly gaining Minjoon’s worry as he looked me up and down. I shook my head to him very slightly, hoping it was seen as a comforting gesture and it wouldn’t make him hover over me in an attempt to shelter me or comfort me.

The silence in the hall stretched for several additional minutes and the three of us stood there awkwardly, scrutinised by every member of staff currently on standby. I felt the scolding gazes doubly, as I didn’t make much effort on the visual front, rocking up to one of the most expensive houses in the most expensive neighbourhood in my worn washed out jeans, a simple black tee and a breezy short-sleeved shirt with an aggressive flower print, hair styled in a way that was the most practical and needed the least amount of time to achieve and a face red and sweating both from the hot temperatures and the nerves, the look finished with a pair of old sneakers basically crying for help.

I couldn’t look more out of place in the pristine light green hall with sleek furniture and floors made from massive marble tiles and I felt properly as an outsider, both from the perspective of a kid growing up in an impoverished block and as a colleague that wasn’t properly informed about the details of the visit. Even Minjoon wore a nicer pair of jeans and a shirt, which he never did, and Sunmi looked as elegant as ever in her dress pants, light blouse and beautiful wavy hair let hanging loose around her shoulders. I swallowed my bitterness and regret at not checking up on the area first and not getting the chance to also dress accordingly. And avoiding looking like a beggar accidentally let in from the streets.

My train of thought was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, the distinctive clacking of high heel shoes on the marble floors carrying to us all the way from deep inside the house, and I found myself almost letting out a breath of relief, as I would finally be able to escape this oppressive atmosphere and disappear somewhere into a corner of a room and just quietly make notes.

With each clack getting closer to us the tension in the air grew lightly, the forms of my colleagues also straightening out, hands last minute fidgeting around their clothes to gather courage and look as composed as we could. From what I understood, from the people present here only Sunmi had the pleasure of meeting our host before, and it was only twice. Not nearly enough for the initial instinctual apprehension to wear off. Therefore we were all probably experiencing similar levels of unease. Most probably. Hard to say, I was pretty strung up.

Finally, the form of a woman rounded the corner and materialised at the other end of a very long corridor, slowly inching towards us with the elegance and prowess of a hungry lion, her form slightly shimmering. At first I thought my eyes were watering or I was straight up hallucinating, but as she came closer I realised it was because she wore a silvery dress that reflected every light and surface around her.

She was taller than me, quite a bit (not a big feat honestly, I barely grew out of looking like an 8th grader) with a small, graceful face, each inch perfect and carefully maintained. Both her make-up and dress looked very sophisticated, showing clearly that she was a member of the higher class, with her beautiful dark hair pulled into a tight intricate bun at the back of her head. She was absolutely stunning and, to be honest, for a moment I got a little starstruck. It felt like meeting a movie star or a celebrity, she had that aura around her, and for a few seconds I completely forgot why we were there and almost started asking for an autograph and a detailed explanation of her beauty routine.

That all shattered the moment she finally reached us though, as her impassive face suddenly broke into a cruel smirk, venom taking over her dark eyes and she scoffed, looking us over like we were pests about to be exterminated. Before even giving us a chance to introduce ourselves, or really say anything, her focus shifted to Sunmi, gaze burning her down intensely.

“I thought we were over this, detective,” she said in a strong voice, sounding just as annoyed as mean, “There’s no need for you to come over and ask your silly little questions. I told you everything you need to know.” I saw the moment Sunmi steeled herself, eyes hardening, readying to play her part of an unshakable detective. And damn, did she do a great job.

“Please Ms. Kim,” she retorted, her body relaxing a little as she adopted a posture to counter the other woman’s stiff elegant figure, “You know I’ll never have enough of asking you silly questions. Just let us bother you for fifteen minutes and then we don’t have to see each other again for a few months.” There was a little impish grin tugging on her lips and I could notice our hostess was starting to get a little bothered by that, her annoyance slowly running through the roof. I watched on with bated breath, both me and Minjoon just hanging back quietly, taken aback by the sudden change in the air.

Ms. Kim’s face turned into a bitter grimace, the disgust obvious in the downturn of her mouth as she stepped aside and gestured down the long hallway she herself came from.

“Fine, you got fifteen minutes, after that I’m not entertaining any other visits unless you have an arrest warrant,” she bit out almost in a bark, before she turned around without waiting and stomped her way back inside the house. We all scrambled to follow her, suddenly thrust into action after just weirdly hanging about for such a long time. Sunmi took the lead, confidently striding after her, but as she passed me I could hear her releasing a huge puff of air as she steadied herself to carry on.

I gazed after her, taking in her stoney face and confident posture, my respect towards the female detective immediately skyrocketing. If Minjoon told me I was looking at her with hearts in my eyes, I would totally believe him. I liked to pretend I looked similar while dealing with Yoongi, but Sunmi clearly perfected the pest bratty power play that just drove these types up the wall, and I hoped I would be able to learn from her before we all had to go our separate ways again. I’m sure the Min gang would infinitely appreciate it. Especially the maknae.

Miss Kim led us only halfway through the corridor before she disappeared into a room on the right, and like ducklings we all followed inside. Minjoon came through last, but immediately went for the chairs, so I took it upon myself to close the door. When I turned, I was the last one to take the room in. It was quite a standard home office space, with a dark desk dominating the space, some shelves with books and decorations, and of course, the two chairs waiting for visitors to be scrutinised from the high table.

Not wanting to pull much attention to myself, I quickly hurried into the left corner where a lone small armchair stood, sitting myself there. I was already pretty much invisible to them as they sized each other up.

Just as before, Miss Kim didn’t seem overly interested in getting our names, getting straight to business without any preamble.

“I cannot imagine what else you’d like to hear from me, Miss Lee,” her piercing voice sounded through the room, taking on a slight whining voice. I jerked slightly in my chair, head immediately flying up to look at the woman before I realised that me and Sunmi shared a surname and she was talking to her, not me. The relief that flooded me at not having to face her yet was quite mortifying, so I just focused on fiddling with my notepad and pen, waiting for something worthy of being written down.

“A multiple homicide took place on your front lawn, of course we’d be interested in getting your perspective as much as we can,” Sunmi replied to her matter-of-factly, holding her own in the intense power battle that was currently taking place between their gazes.

“On my front lawn? That’s news to me,” Miss Kim leaned back into her chair, throwing her arms into the air, “That’s not our warehouse. The Kim Enterprises don’t own it.”

“Cut the shit, that’s your turf. You want to tell me that someone was murdered on your turf, and you don’t have even the slightest idea? Not even if Mins were involved?” Sunmi snapped back immediately and even I was surprised for a split second before I schooled my expression and watched the two of them attentively.

Miss Kim seemed hardly surprised, she didn’t even blink at Sunmi’s approach, just sat there and stared at her blankly with not even a single hair out of place. Then she smirked lightly, fingers drumming a quick rhythm into the desk.

“I have no idea what Mr. Min is doing, but I can assure you he’s doing it far away from me,” she said diplomatically, “We’re not exactly the bestest of friends.” There was a tense venomous smile on her face and I fought back the scoff. That was some understatement. But she was really good at acting as if her whole clan didn’t almost lose their lives to Yoongi’s six after actively trying to sabotage him several times.

But guess they must have gotten a little mercy from him since most of the conflicts happened while the old Kim, her father, was still in power. Since he has died and his son took over, the relationship between the two powerhouses was still considerably strained, but also much calmer.

There was a moment of silence, Minjoon quietly looing to Sunmi whether she wanted to keep going and when she didn’t stop him, he cleared his throat and turned his full attention to the woman behind the desk.

“It might not be your warehouse, but we know the area is pretty much under your rule,” he said seemingly amicably, a stark difference to Sunmi’s irate approach, “We don’t care about any other stuff that’s happening there. We don’t care about drugs or smuggling right now, this is a murder case.”

To that the woman smirked and rolled her eyes. “So what? If I give you information, you’ll overlook anything else that might be going on? You want me to be a snitch?” she drawled out, clearly mocking us all, then threw her hands out into the air, “Not my warehouse, not my problem. Why would I know what’s going on in a house that doesn’t belong to me?” The answer was pretty clear, to be honest. Even as someone from a rival gang, if she knew something she wouldn’t cooperate with the police. The retaliation would be merciless if Yoongi found out. And he always did.

“Anything you say will be recorded as an anonymous tip, it will only push us in the right direction,” Minjoon told her, in what was supposed to be a comforting manner, but his voice was too hard and matter-of-fact to be friendly. The elegantly dressed woman’s eyes jumped from the two with a slyness that left a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. In that moment she looked more like a viper about to strike than an heiress to a huge successful family. An ugly smirk curled around her lips and her face took on a certain savageness, suddenly she looked nothing like the graceful lady that greeted us in the foyer.

“Well, detective,” she started in another drawl, now her voice pitching more towards an almost playful hostility, like she was trying to make herself seem less lethal than she truly was, “all I can say is that they were drug dealers. Which is something you already know. So you probably have to ask… why did they lose their lives because of it? Hmmmm, I wonder… wonder who and where does drug deals that has the reputation of killing anyone that just looks at him bad…” She ended that whole spiel with a sharp grin, and promptly stood up and in a grand gesture flicked her wrist towards the door.

“I didn’t really expect that I would have to do the police’s job for them, should have fucking gone to the academy,” she hissed out in a snarl, “Now get the fuck out of my house and don’t bother me again about bullshit that doesn’t concern me.”

The two detectives didn’t seem to be bothered by her words or sudden turn in mood at all, instead they both stood up almost coordinated and without a single word or a glance back turned to leave the room. I scrambled to follow them, the whole thing replaying in my mind as I absent mindedly smacked about the door to catch the handle. The split second I turned to see where it was, I caught Miss Kim’s eye for the first time that evening. Hers were sharp, face a hard grimace of uncaringness and cruelty. She smirked at me in a mocking way, like she would at an insect right before she crushed in under her heel, her pride and ego clearly displayed like trophies in her arrogant stance and upturned head. I shuddered lightly and decided to leave the door be, breaking into a light jog to catch up to my colleagues much to judging looks of the servants. I didn’t care much, I just wanted to be out of there.

Once back on the street, a weighted silence stretched between us as we marinated on what we were told. Really, these interviews always felt so short and so little information would come from them, and then you’d look at the clock and find out it’s been thirty or forty minutes spend just turning in circles. This was one of them.

“Of course we know the drug deal is an important aspect of the case,” Minjoon suddenly bit out, peeved as the last comment clearly got him, “A group of drug dealers doesn’t just get murdered by accident. But Yoongi is self-sufficient, he has ties across the sea to Japan, he doesn’t do deals with small in-Seoul gangs.” We both looked at him, trying to ignore his petulant outburst, trying to be empathising because all of our emotions ran a little wild at the moment. I looked to Sunmi, studying her calm face that was in contrast to her hand tapping her thigh in a quick rhythm, her mind working fast to slot everything together and re-evaluate what we found out till now.

“Well, then the reason must be there,” I voiced out unsurely, getting nervous when their gazes turned to me, “If what she’s insinuating is that they were doing a deal with Yoongi and got killed, then we gotta find out why. If he normally doesn’t do that, then why now?” Sunmi nodded at my words, eyes squinted both against the sun and in thought, mulling over it.

“Yeah, that’s really the only way I see here too,” she stated finally, voice carrying strong, “We were working with theories that they maybe provoked him or split from him and stole some of his cargo, maybe tried to push his turf somewhere, the usual reasons for this brutal of a punishment, but maybe we should explore the option that they were actually partners. Maybe they scammed him with goods, that could get you murdered in this business.”

I pursed my lips tightly, keeping a neutral face to reign in my surprise, as most of those things she said were total news to me. I had known they were looking into their past and that they were drug dealers, that they missed one guy and maybe he got away. Nothing of what she said actually made it to me, and I had to stand there and pretend like I knew what she was talking about. I mean, I wasn’t dumb, these were the usual reasons for murder between gangs, but it would have been nice if someone actually told me we were looking into these options.

I swallowed my bitterness down and kept my eyes trained on Sunmi, nodding along. I didn’t want my negative experience with my team and unit to tamper down the respect that was quickly growing in me towards her, the detective has in the short period of time I’ve known her become something of a model for me, and I knew that it wasn’t her responsibility to keep me updated since she was from a different unit. No, this transgression was on the side of my own colleagues, so I stubbornly kept my eyes from straying towards the officer in question, who was nervously shuffling next to her.

I let out a tired sigh, the disappointment was so constant with them that I barely even found it in me to be properly annoyed, just felt resignation bleed into me slowly. I knew that I would most likely just keep getting fucked over like this, but still, I stubbornly and selfishly wasn’t prepared to give up just yet, and it hurt. But really, what other option did I have.

“We should get back to the station,” I piped in, cutting short the conversation that started up between them while I was spacing out, and I felt Minjoon’s guilty gaze on me, “Get the info to the others and re-evaluate.” Sunmi once again nodded, patting my shoulder and giving me a friendly smile.

“You’re here by car, right? We could definitely squeeze you in if you need a ride,” she offered easily, and I found myself genuinely smiling back. I thanked her and pointed towards my own vehicle, and she patted my shoulder some more, a little more awkwardly, and made her way to her own. Minjoon lingered behind a little, but whatever he wanted to tell me, we didn’t have time for it anyway, so I shot him a polite smile and went my way too.

The day went by surprisingly fast, considering I didn’t speak much for the rest of it, the earlier realisation weighing heavy on me. The briefing was pretty short, with mostly Sunmi making sure the other two detectives were caught up. They split their duties quickly too. Minjoon and Seungcheol were supposed to keep looking into the mysterious third accomplice while Sunmi and Hwang would start looking more sharply into their mob ties, hoping to somehow trace them to Yoongi if they scrutinised them hard enough. I sat there and watched them awkwardly, until Minjoon turned to me and somewhat sheepishly asked whether I wanted to share my findings. So I did.

I recapped to them everything I said to Minjoon a few days earlier before he stepped in and informed the others I agreed to go through the older cases as well and would try to build a new bigger case. I gulped down my own simmering anger, that was admittedly dwindling down with every hit I took from them, and smiled, nodded, agreed. Minjoon kept glancing towards me as if he wanted to say something more, but I ignored it for the moment. Now was not the time. He asked the other team if they would volunteer to have someone tag along with me. Seungcheol agreed. I shook his hand and thanked him. In my head I clung to the promise Minjoon made me, that this would be my own big case, and kept myself in check.

By the evening, I was finally wrapping up with the original task, a huge boulder falling off of my shoulders and then promptly building back up when I curiously checked how many files I would have to pull up come Monday. It was a lot. I did catch myself just sitting at my tiny desk kneading my face in my hands, smushing my features all together and then pulling them again, as my eyes focused and unfocused on the computer screen.

And that’s how Minjoon found me too. He walked up to me quietly, and at first I didn’t even notice him through the existential crisis I was going through, but soon his hip moved into my field of vision and I jerked back, embarrassed at my antics. Minjoon still looked just as apologetic as that morning, and I couldn’t even be annoyed with him after the day I had.

“Dinner?” he asked quietly, unsure of whether I would want to go with him or not. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but instead I just nodded tiredly, pushing the files under the desk and turning off the computer. I was done, done for the day and done with working on this, so I just wordlessly stood up and glanced around. Just like last week we were the last ones around, even Park already long gone from his office where he basically camped out.

Minjoon waited for me patiently, as I gathered my belongings and then just walked out without looking back. We ended up at the same restaurant, ordering the same thing, the lady behind the counter giving us winks and mischievous smiles while I tried my hardest to push the flustered part of myself as deep as possible. That was the last thing I needed, really.

Minjoon launched into his apology as soon as we sat down, stating how tired and overworked he was and pleaded for me to forgive him just this once for forgetting to forward the information to me. How it just slipped his mind and how Hwang just plainly refused to have to keep running to me with every new little thing and always left it to him and he was just so busy. I sat there staring blankly, not even really in the mood to pretend it was fine like I usually would for the man, and he stewed under my intense gaze, stuttering to find a way to make it up to me.

I wanted to be spiteful, wanted to tell him just how tired I was as well, how if they even invited me to these meetings in the first place, we wouldn’t have this problem, but failed to find the reason why I should bother.

“Then how about this? I have an offer to make,” Minjoon said suddenly after a few minutes of awkward small talk, a mischievous smile slowly stretching on his face. I perked up at the sudden change in mood and curiously nodded at him to continue. “I always have the time to tell you everything when we eat here and I can relax at the same time, so it’s pretty obvious you should keep coming to these dinners with me. Just for the work’s sake of course,” the man suggested slyly, eyes colouring with mirth and something else, something a little darker and sweeter. That insufferable flirt.

That time I did blush full force as soon as the meaning of those words hit me, ducking my head shyly as the negative emotions dissolved confusedly into something a little more excited and jittery deep inside my chest, the anger forgotten under the sudden attention. I found myself nodding and Minjoon rewarded me with such a blinding smile it made everything worth it, all the work and the bitterness long pushed from my mind.

That evening, there was plenty more conversation, none of it about murders or crime which was a refreshing change for both of us, and we both seized the opportunity to actually mention anything that didn’t have any tie to Yoongi, who seemed to have become a constant in my life. For a first time in a really long time I laughed freely with another person, nothing holding me back from the amusement and nothing weighing heavy on my mind.

When I made my way home that evening, the hopeful joy making itself known in my heart seemingly erased all the negativity of the day, of the week, of the month. The only thought that fought its way through was the flash of Yoongi in my mind as I passed the street that would eventually lead me to Pied Piper.

I turned my head straight and drove on.

The days quickly bled into weeks, into a month, until I was sweating my ass off in the office towards the end of May, the sudden heatwave hitting right after a week of storms and rains. The heat always seemed to get even more exaggerated inside the building, something about it just had to be cursed. And with how old and rundown the station really was, hoping for a working AC soon turned into a fruitless endeavour.

I spent the month the same way I spent the month before that, buried neck deep in old cold cases that never saw enough evidence or attention, cross-referencing every little thing down to wearing the same-coloured socks. Similarities started quickly adding up, and by the time I opened the 20th case I could confidently say whether it was truly a Min murder or not. I even had bets going on which one were Jungkook’s and which ones were Hoseok’s. There were even few that I suspected belonged to the Kims, but it wasn’t a theory I felt was strong enough to actually present to others. I had become something of an expert on violence.

Truly, throughout the cases, there were few names that kept repeating – names of companies that could be traced back to Yoongi’s umbrella corporation, names of middlemen that were known to hang about him, names from other cases. They all tied together a nice picture of shady business and in the middle of it all sat Yoongi, like the devil himself.

I was able to painstakingly trace some of the new cases to the older ones, fully incorporating them into the agenda after confirming truly that they were most likely victims of bad deals and finicky power dynamics. Then came the gut punch – the man that was linked to most of those cases, Moon Jiwoo, the middleman whose sole occupation seemed to be to link up wealthy influential men with Yoongi, has gone and turned into a cold case himself. This time a missing person.

Damn you, Jung Hoseok, ruining all my fun.

But obviously this was something worth looking into, given the fact that he was “taken care of” as well. So I started rearranging the files into different groups and sub-groups once again, making a pile that was directly connected to Moon Jiwoo, then a pile of cases that was linked to the victims in the first pile and then seemingly unconnected cases that were still most probably carried out by the Min gang. Thus I ended up with thirteen cases – seven that were connected to the middleman, the middleman case itself and five that had a link to the main seven. Ten more cases sat on the side, for now looking rather random, but maybe I would come to find out that they fell into the intricate web of murders I was currently looking at.

These lucky thirteen mostly had quite peculiar history of travelling between units until they ended up here. Some started off as missing persons cases until a body was found, death undetermined or suspicious enough to have the violent crimes look it over, some were first classified as an accident until someone from ours found it and pulled it over to organised crime. There were two cases that made it straight to us as soon as they were reported – the missing Moon Jiwoo, a known associate, and a dock worker that was employed by an affiliated company. Unfortunately, it was much easier to make a poor man working in the docks disappear than a filthy rich magnate, so those few cases that made it to us were mostly thin and under-investigated.

Stepping into this task, I have to admit that at first I was quite surprised that someone as infamously known for being a dangerous silent killer that almost never leaves any evidence as Hoseok had left this many cases for us to look into, but once I started properly going through them I realised that there was a stone wall at every turn and most of these cases went completely cold only a few weeks after happening. And considering it was a pure stroke of luck that even brought them to us, the chance that they would have been eventually completely forgotten was extremely high. I had to give it to him, he was extremely efficient, enough to make me progressively more annoyed every time I hit a dead end, cursing him in my mind four times a day. And I shuddered to think about the number of cases that never made it to us or that didn’t even get reported.

But now at least I had a firm idea of what would have to be investigated more thoroughly and which avenues I would look into. You bet that I was gathering those thirteen files to bring them home and put them on the map wall, silently sighing at the image of the macabre décor in my own bedroom. It was truly unfortunate it was the best room for it in my tiny tiny apartment, but sadly I was getting used to it by now. So much for calming relaxing mornings.

A cup of coffee landed on my desk and I jumped in fright, realising I had been just emptily staring at my computer screen as I went over everything I would have to do at home during the weekend and my plan starting Monday. I looked up with cheeks coloured by embarrassment, catching Cheol’s amused expression before he tipped an imaginary hat in my direction.

“Howdy, partner,” he drawled out and took a sip of his own coffee, leaning back onto a neighbouring desk and making himself as comfortable as he possibly could with the sharp edge digging into him. I chuckled at him and tipped my head in return.

“Howdy,” slipped out of my mouth easily, “thanks for the coffee.” He only smiled as a response and then nodded towards the computer and the mess of files everywhere.

“How’s it looking?” the detective asked. I sent him a faux annoyed looked, but there was a smile tugging on my lips. In the past few weeks Cheol made it his mission to check up on me regularly. He’d usually come with a cup of either coffee or tea and start asking about my progress. Since he had volunteered to be my partner in this, I understood his reasoning, but the first few times I found myself quite annoyed by his incessant questioning. Until I realised he was doing it on purpose and was just pulling my leg. After that I was able to relax and see the interaction for what it really was – an attempt to build some comradery, not an effort to press and humiliate me.

I found out he was actually pretty easy-going, he had a sense of stability and strength around him and yet still managed to be an absolute goofball, which helped me feel less nervous and I even started catching onto some of his jokes. I liked hanging out with him and I already trusted him as a teammate despite the fact that we hadn’t even gone out to the field together.

“Same as yesterday,” I told him finally, pretending to be annoyed with him, “Monday big briefing, then we can kick off.” My voice turned serious in the second half, conveying that it truly was an information he needed to keep in mind.

“Okay, I’ll be there,” he responded to just as seriously, only a small smile on his face as I nodded at him and then gestured to the mountains of files. “In the meantime I’ll have fun organising this for you, so you better not be ungrateful,” I joked right back at him, “I am not above abusing my power.” That got an amused chuckle out of him.

“Sure thing, rookie,” his voice turned slightly jokingly exaggerated, but I heard the genuineness in it, which pulled an honest grin out of me, “we’ll see about that on Monday.” With that he pushed himself off the table and started walking off somewhere, only waving around the cup in lieu of a goodbye.

On his way out, presumably back to his own unit, he passed Minjoon’s table, and I caught the man’s eye as I watched Cheol dramatically take his leave. Immediately I felt a blush spreading and I ducked my head back between the files quickly. There was a slight grin on his face witnessing my reaction, and I chastised myself to behave while at work. We weren’t highschoolers anymore and I could get in serious trouble sending puppy eyes to my colleague. If somebody caught wind of that, they’d disrespect me even more, it would become absolute hell here and I couldn’t afford to make the atmosphere even more hostile when I was barely making it now.

True to his word, Minjoon took me to the little restaurant by the office once or twice a week to eat and gave me the whole rundown of the other team’s plans and findings to keep me updated on everything going on. He would relay everything to me with care, making sure I wasn’t left out and that he wouldn’t have to awkwardly fill me in under Hwang’s hateful eyes. But we would always end up talking about everything and anything, and soon I started anticipating our dinners not because of the information, but because as soon as that was told, we would start chatting and laughing.

One moment I’d be asking about the next step against Yoongi and the next we were trading stories about the most embarrassing things we’ve done in high school or our favourite childhood spots to play in. Minjoon talked a lot about his family, about his older brothers and parents, and while I tried to avoid that topic as much as possible, I ended up also sharing some childhood stories without many details.

Honestly, those evenings became my favourite moments. The weeks and the work were both so hectic lately and I found myself swamped with cases, searching for the tiniest details, and more often than not I was going home totally exhausted with red raw eyes and a migraine that just wouldn’t leave no matter what I did. I almost perfected sleeping in a way that didn’t aggravate my headache to a point I almost threw up (I did throw up once, after I came home and almost passed out not realising I didn’t really eat anything the whole day).

The moments I spent with Minjoon were a beautiful escape, a few hours a week I forgot completely about my responsibilities and didn’t care about murders and gang activity, and only sat back and traded jokes and bashful flirts. We both have long since stopped pretending we weren’t interested in each other, and it made those encounters even more exhilarating as we danced around the attraction with careful teasing smiles and soft flirting. I was still very much nervous about the unit catching on and realising what’s going on, but Minjoon’s warm presence in my life slowly erased those fears and made me more open to the possibility. The last few meetings toed the line of propriety with more ways than one, flirtation straying further than before and Minjoon’s insistence he drives me home leaving us in a few tense charged moments by my door.

It was exciting and terrifying, but I liked the officer. He’d been the only one that went out of his way to actually accept me and treat me as a human, he helped me and pushed me through to give me opportunities to prove myself to others and he continuously cared about my well-being. I liked spending my evenings with him, he was charming and kind and we both seemed very compatible.

The only problem that stood between us and made us both hesitant to cross a line further than friendly dinners was the fact that we were not only coworkers, but team members. That left us awkwardly trying to navigate the sudden tension that arose between us without giving away how close we were getting. Honestly, every day I was nervous that Sunmi or Seungcheol would look at us and see, like it was written all over my face that I was starting to like Minjoon from a wholly unprofessional standpoint.

It was like there was a huge ticking clock hanging over my head just waiting for a disaster to happen, but it didn’t stop me from looking forward to the Friday evening every week. And Minjoon seemed to be in the same boat. But as long as we didn’t cross over to uncharted territory, we were fine.

Thus, we both just sat there in the office and exchanged timid grins, making sure no one saw us making eye contact, like we were two criminals fleeing from the law.

I tried to focus back onto my monitor, but I was absolutely fried. It was still noon, but the whole weight of the last two months just hit me and I was fighting to stay awake, knowing I was done with one of the most annoying boring tasks I’ve ever had to deal with and that from Monday I’ll be even more busy.

There was both panic and excitement coursing through me at what was waiting for me, all the possibilities from actually doing some real investigating and solving cold cases to finally having the chance to put my energy into something productive and not only sneak around Seoul at the ass crack of dawn hoping to catch a sight of a serial killer working for the most annoying man in the existence.

Finally I’d have a chance. And that was just as scary. It felt like I had twice as much to lose, given the fact I was barely tolerated now. I had everything to gain, but everything to lose. If I failed this, if I messed up or got us into trouble, it’d be the end of me on this precinct. Not successfully closing at least one of these cases wasn’t an option, I had to yield results.

For the nth time that day I tried blinking away the tiredness from my eyes and the early onset of another migraine, but as soon as it started being hard to focus through the pain, I decided it was time to give up on trying to achieve anything today.

Already having great experience with gathering my things to leave as fast as possible, I was ready to leave within five minutes of deciding to go home, the relief coursing through my veins like ice cream on a hot day. And it was a very hot today.

Still, I stopped by Minjoon’s desk, surprising him for a moment before he gave a confused smile, the question marks reflected in his eyes without him even having to ask anything. I grinned at him wildly, no doubt looking slightly insane from this angle of him looking up at me.

“You said that you haven’t questioned Yoongi yet, right?” I enquired out of nowhere, confusing him even more as he fully turned to me, and I could see him trying to figure me out. Then he slowly nodded.

“Yeah,” he drawled out, “we decided to go into offensive and start pushing him, so we’ll start questionings in the following weeks.” I nodded quickly, shooting him a rushed smile before I made my way out into the hot noon air and blasting sun, leaving supremely more confused Minjoon behind, not even giving him a chance to really say goodbye.

There’s been a thought playing around in my mind for a few days now. Was it finally time to go see Yoongi again? Now seemed to be the best time to make my grand return, remind them of my existence and cut the suspense. The team was already planning to go talk to him anyway, come June they’ll be hot on his tail, back to their strategy of annoying him. It would be kind of a sweet little treat to find out how much he knows, whether it already made it back to him and he was onto us or whether he was still blissfully unaware of what we were investigating. I was slightly embarrassed by the amount of excitement that flowed through me at the prospect of teasing the man again, of hearing his remarks, now that I fully had a leg up (though the last time I thought that it went spectacularly wrong).

I wanted to try to throw him off his high horse. To unnerve him, in the same way he always did to me. To return the favour of always finding a way to get under my skin and make me mad. I wanted that. I wanted him to know that I would be getting him behind those bars, just as I promised two months ago in The Rose.

Waiting until the evening seemed almost impossible, not even my own exhaustion that tried to lure me into hours long nap could distract me from the slowly ticking clock, and I was restless the whole day. Sitting around, staring off into space, always wanting to pick something up, some chore or an easy task, but unable to focus on anything except for whether it would be better to catch him still in the office or make a grand entrance to the Pied Piper, where he should be today.

And pulling up to said club twenty minutes after 7pm, I did pray that he was there, as I immediately recognised those same bouncers and desperately wished there wouldn’t be a repeat of that whole situation. Though, if I did manage to cockblock Yoongi twice, that would definitely put a smile on my face, that’s how petty we were getting here.

But that hardly mattered, not when I walked up to them and before I could even get a single word out of me, a mean glint present in my eyes to let them know I remembered them and I wasn’t amused by whatever bullshit they would try to pull, they were already opening the doors to me and gesturing for me to enter with smug smirks. My whole actor bit got thrown off and I stared at them shocked for a moment, before I hurried to scramble inside much to the distaste and grumbling of people waiting in the line right behind me. There was some disgruntled shouting, a warning growl and then the door fell shut and I was left in the dark hallway leading deeper into the heart of the club. That was entirely too easy.

From here, I could only sense the loud drums pulsing through the walls, their faint echo thrumming through my very bones, as I mechanically forced a foot in front of the other, pushing myself back into my carefree smug attitude. Stop being stupid, I thought to myself, something like this can’t throw you off. But it did mean that Yoongi was already no doubt alerted to my presence, sitting like a king in that red balcony waiting for me to get there.

Well, I couldn’t let him wait for long, could I? We had a game to play.

Somewhat nervously I shuffled with my clothes, choosing to show up in a little bit more club appropriate attire so I could sell my arrogance and triumph, and flaunt it properly in their face. I had to appear strong, this was a crucial moment between us and I couldn’t fumble here. Though, deep down I felt like this evening, just like all of my other encounters with the man, would inevitably end in disaster. Still, I made sure my skirt and crop top were in place, short heels properly strapped and hair and earrings where I wanted them to be, hoping my makeup still looked as okay as it did when I left my apartment.

This afternoon, as I desperately tried to come up with some sort of a plan, I had realised everyone around Yoongi always walked around in pristine high-end clothes, while I ended up running after them dressed in rags, basically. The encounter with Miss Kim only strengthened this idea within me. I had to step up my game. I had to learn how to play by their rules just enough to get away with it. So, I made sure to dress up a little. Only a tiny bit.

With a deep stabilising inhale and exhale, I set out down the hallway and down the stairs into the main room. I ignored the bar that opened up to my right and went straight for the VIP section entrance. I was anticipating to run into a little more trouble here, as I made my way towards the two unsmiling bouncers all jittery and trying to look more confident than I’ve ever been in my entire life; but upon seeing me, they just stepped to the side, unhooked the red rope and waited for me to walk through.

I did, though my nerves grew with every step I took up those stairs, knees and hands slightly shaking, and I clutched my little handbag until I risked damaging it. The upper floor, the VIP section, was just as intimate and infinitely more pleasant than the downstairs as the last time I was here, and my eyes quickly scanned through the seated guests, trying to make out whether there was someone I recognised, but it was too dark. I caught the barman’s eye and he winked at me cheekily, gesturing at an alcohol bottle he was just fiddling with, attempting to lure me in to buy a drink. My returning smile was apologetic, but it did stop me, and I found myself just awkwardly standing there looking towards the wall where I knew the balcony entrance was.

Trying out the same strategy as before, I loudly inhaled and exhaled, forced my body back into working order, and started moving slowly towards them. With every step I shoved a little more false confidence and condescending attitude to prepare myself, steadily growing surer in those heels and schooling my expression.

Just like downstairs, the bouncer moved out of my way and allowed me to enter the private zone, but as I caught a glimpse of his face, I did a hasty double take. A wry grin made it onto my face, watching the man up and down.

“Good evening, Mr. Choi,” I greeted the bodyguard with a sense of mocking in my tone, a sentiment he gladly returned in his patronising little bow he did towards me, eyes fighting to not roll to the back of his head. I chuckled and moved on, finally climbing those last few stairs.

Coming face to face with the men after such a long time was truly terrifying, especially as I stood there in my ditzy little outfit in front of several of the most dangerous criminals in the city and noted the shock and interest in their eyes as they fully took me in. Several different instincts warred through me – to hide away, to run, to flounder under their attention, to throw my attitude into their face, but all I could really manage was stand there in a manner I hoped that screamed carefully constructed indifference.

Yoongi was spread out on the central sofa, just like last time, comfortably seated in a way that almost made him seem half melted into the soft furnishing, but his eyes were sharp just like his smirk, thoroughly studying me. I could already see the cogs in his head turning, realising this was a beginning of a new game, even more exciting than the last one. I fought the shudder that tried to overtake me under his heavy gaze and instead turned my attention to the sofa next to him.

There was no Jungkook today, his dark sulking mass would be hard to miss, but Taehyung was here, elegantly sitting near the corner of his settee with one arm curling around the top of it and the other gently laid on his crossed legs. Everything about him screamed how comfortable and confident he felt, all the way to the playful smirk and studious eyes. I would have to be more careful around him, he was kind of a whole lot to deal with and I had no idea whether I could take that tonight.

But I couldn’t stop the surprise from displaying clearly on my face as I clocked in the last figure in the room, sitting close next to Taehyung, full body turned to me with a wide smile that had a dangerous edge to it and strangely deep dark eyes that had my fingers trembling in a tinge of fear. It was Hoseok, dressed in a nice suit and comfortably sitting there with a glass of alcohol loosely held in his hand, swirling over his expensive shoes. He was grinning at me like we were old friends, but somehow that made me even more wary of him, an unease setting into my insides that had me reconsidering whether tonight was a good idea.

But I was already here, so. No way but forward.

Gathering my wits back I plastered a smile on my face and regarded the three men with a cheery “Gentlemen” while I made my way towards the little chair sitting straight across from Yoongi. It was my place anyway, we all knew it, he clearly had all the unwelcome guests sitting on it to make them uncomfortable and unsure of themselves, so I had to own it as effortlessly as possible.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise, officer,” Yoongi started with his smooth voice that he only used when he was being intentionally an ass, “Come here to club and destress on a tough Friday night?” His eyes flicked down to my attire and then back to me, the amusement shining through alongside another strange glint to his eyes. He was interested in what my strategy was here, inviting me to set my starting pieces.

I ignored him and turned straight to Hoseok, finding his dark unsettling eyes already on me, but I forced myself to smirk lightly. “Shocked to see you here,” I said with my full voice, a cheeky undertone to my words, “Aren’t there enemies to be murdered? Bones to be buried?” His eyes narrowed slightly, smile turning a bit sharper. I’d never really spoken to him before, and our first exchanged words were a taunt from me? It was as brilliant as it was stupid, but it did throw the man off for a few seconds, his face immediately becoming a little more closed off, the happy smile still dutifully in place.

“Everybody deserves a day off here or there,” he retorted back, drawing an amused smirk to Taehyung’s face. Yoongi was watching us closely, studying the interaction before taking the control back.

“Could I interest you in a drink?” he asked, testing the waters, sharp eyes observing me. I nodded. He smirked. “Perfect,” he hummed, “Finally truly came here on a day off?” I only chuckled in response, watching him wave to someone behind me, presumably to Soobin. I squirmed a little on the tiny seat that simply must have been designed to torture the people sitting on it, always playing a balancing game on the little square with nothing to really lean on. The dark-haired man’s eyes still followed my every movement and he suddenly gestured to the space next to him.

“Of course, if it would be more comfortable for you, you’re welcome to join us on the settee,” Yoongi drawled out with a smirk, Taehyung hungrily watching our interaction with some sort of dark amusement glinting in his eyes. It made me shudder, nerves threatening to swallow me whole under their intense scrutiny, especially since Hoseok was also present. I would have never guessed I’d meet him here, casually drinking with Yoongi. Somehow I gained the idea that he just always crawled around in the dark like some kind of a mythical creature.

I pushed all of the uncomfortableness to the edges of my consciousness and quickly straightened, moving to the sofa in a few confident strides. This suddenly put me much closer to the man than I’ve ever been before, my stomach revolting and filling with lead. I quickly clasped my hands together nonchalantly to hide the slight tremor that started up again in them.

If Yoongi was surprised by my decision, he didn’t let it show and only continued to regard me with rampant curiousness and interest. I felt like a puzzle game that he desperately tried to solve just for fun, and it was increasingly more difficult to not start tensely shifting around; my eyes flitting around the room and lungs seizing until it was hard to consistently breathe.

I figured since I sat like this with Jimin in The Rose when I went there I’d be fine now, but I should have known that Yoongi himself was a completely different ballpark. He shifted around in his seated until he was half turned to me, leisurely lounging on the red velvet with one arm rested on the top and the other playing with a glass of what I assumed was whiskey. He was a picture of aloofness and power, all painted in black and red, and his aura was slowly crushing me like I had found myself at the bottom of the ocean. All I could do was try not to flounder too much and stand firmly.

I had come here to play their little game, to shock them and throw them off, to show them that I can keep up, that I’m not just a stupid little girl that’s in over her head. I needed to be bold, to play with them the same way they play with me. So, I took a few steadying breaths and ignored the way my whole body was screaming at me to leave, instead grinning self-assuredly at the man.

The silence stretched on, the other two men present sat back and watched Yoongi with amusement and something akin to respect in their eyes as he stared me down. For few long moments no one said anything, and Yoongi’s eyes just bored straight deep into my soul, picking me apart and making me squirm uncomfortably in my seat. Unlike the first time he did this to me, I fought to keep myself defiantly staring back but I couldn’t hold the eye contact, every few seconds flitting to something else before I looked at him again, shame creeping into my features. His smile grew larger and more entertained until I couldn’t take it anymore.

Just as I started considering just turning away from him in humiliation the moment was broken by a waiter coming in to serve me a cocktail and I exhaled deeply in relief just as Yoongi chuckled and nodded at the boy. I took the drink eagerly, absolutely ecstatic that I had something to put my attention to instead of those fuckers smiling smugly right next to me. The drink was something very fruity and it tasted sweet, my features immediately perking up in delight as the taste hit my tongue.

Next to me Yoongi chuckled again, and I pointedly ignored him until he spoke. “Your eyes are so genuine,” he muttered, something warmer than just plain amusement creeping into his voice, “Everything’s so clearly written all over your face.” I froze at the tone, my mind transported back into The Rose to the respect he so clearly showed towards me, and I almost fled the club in absolute panic at the reminder of why I distanced myself in the first place.

I wasn’t the only one thrown off though, Hoseok sitting right at the corner of my vision visibly tensed at Yoongi’s words and looked at him in a way that could only be described as a warning glare. Not that the man himself paid him any mind, though I was sure he certainly knew of what Hoseok was doing right to his side.

But even when all of my alarms were going off in my mind and I was so undeniably shown just how much I was losing control of the whole situation (if I even had any from the beginning) and how I got myself into real trouble fraternising with Yoongi and going along with his stupid little whims, trying to outwit him and always managing to play right into his hands, I still stubbornly refused to stop. I still stubbornly refused to back down and admit to myself this was slowly crossing lines I couldn’t afford to cross, I still tried to force myself to believe that it would mean my defeat, my surrender. And I couldn’t surrender, that’s what he wanted. It was pedal to the metal all the way, baby.

I pulled myself back together and shot him a carefully crafted smirk in return. “Don’t try to butter me up with your words, you’re not taking me home tonight,” it took everything in me not to flush at the insinuation, and I cocked my head to the side with a cheekiness I’ve seen from him many times before to sell it properly, giving him back what he always gave me (especially in The Rose with Jimin, those bastards). But the answering grin that immediately spread over Yoongi’s face had me nervous again. He looked like he won the lottery, like I just perfectly played into his cards. The man just leisurely brought his drink to his lips, before a look crossed his eyes.

“Of course I’m not, that police officer is,” he retorted nonchalantly, one eye cheekily looking to me to gauge my reaction over the rim of his whiskey glass. I froze, some spectacular mix of emotions passing through my face, and I had no idea what kind of expression was set there, but it greatly entertained my whole audience, all three of them grinning like wolfs that just stumbled upon a little girl in the middle of the woods. My heart gave a few painful jerks, and I buried my face in the glass again, hoping to regain some composure.

“Been following me too, huh?” I shot back weakly, head still spinning from this particular information coming out his lips. God damn him, god damn them all. The man laughed at that like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course, my favourite police officer just suddenly disappeared,” he said in a mock worried voice, “I had to make sure that you were alright. What if you needed help, officer?” Now my whole body trembled as I went over my whereabouts in the past two months. How much did he know? What did he see me do? Does he know what we’re investigating? Is he aware of what we’re trying to spin him into? Did I doom this operation right from the start without even realising it?

Yoongi was blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil and happily continued yapping. “Though I must say you have a rather boring life, somehow I expected a detective’s life to be more interesting,” he mocked some more, but really I didn’t care about what he thought about my life. I needed to know how much he knew about my work.

“Must have been at least a little interesting,” I tried to spin him to talk more, forcing my hands to calmly pick at my skirt to play up my aloofness, “had you interested in why the sudden absence, did I not?” He chuckled lightly, eyes dissecting me carefully with a cheeky look.

“I’m always up to indulging you and your little games, officer,” Yoongi half whispered back to me, leaning lightly forward, “Keeps my life more interesting. At least I have something to do over my lunch break.” I regarded him, spread there on the sofa leisurely like he owned the whole city, smirking himself half to death, and I decided to take a gamble.

“Oh, I have the most interesting game prepared for you,” I whispered too, subconsciously leaning in as well to make sure he heard me, “Trust me, you’re going to love it.” From this distance and under this lighting his eyes looked absolutely consumed in darkness and even as they crinkled in amusement, there was something predatory in them, especially as his lips curled up delightedly. I couldn’t help myself but think he looked almost like a tiger spirit that just managed to catch another poor soul unawares.

But when I searched the black irises for any signs of mockery or knowing, I only found pure interest and eagerness to see how this unfolds. With careful hope I allowed myself to believe that he somehow managed to miss me going to the crime scene or to Miss Kim’s house, for a short moment thanking the unit for not taking me with them as often as it clearly prevented from spoiling Yoongi his surprise.

He probably wasn’t expecting me to push an actual investigation against him at all, and probably also wasn’t warned by the Kims that we were asking around about those warehouse murders. That’s when a true smirk unfurled on my face, all the despicable joy I felt about paying him back surfacing freely onto my face.

There was a new kind of calculation reflected in his gaze, eyes never suspicious but always storing away every little detail about our interaction.

The atmosphere between us grew tense, I almost felt the air crackling, almost tasted the electricity on my tongue. I finally leaned back away from him, mirroring his relaxed posture and took a long sip of my drink.

My eyes flitted to the two other men that have just been silently sitting to the side watching the whole interaction, and suddenly I flushed realising they witnessed my shameless taunting of their boss. Hoping the light would hide any unusual colour on my face, I rather focused on deciphering their expressions.

Taehyung was watching me like a new toy that he couldn’t wait to figure out, like a game that he’s been dying to play and find out how the story ends. It made me shift uncomfortably under such raw curiosity, though I’ve been slowly getting used to the fact that he was just someone that would inevitably always throw me off. The man was basically 85 % deception and 15 % flirting, I’d rather keep myself amused by other means than striking up any kind of conversation with him.

Hoseok on the other hand had during our discussion leaned back into the sofa and he watched me with his face closed off and clean off any smile, only apprehension shining through in his gaze. He watched me with distrust and like I was a problem he wouldn’t hesitate to solve. That sent a wave of shivers and goosebumps down my back, finally giving me the opportunity to see the man behind the mask. This was the man people feared, this was the man the petty criminals respected, or they’d find themselves solved. This was the man that walked amongst the docks, and everybody listened. I fully believed that had Yoongi given the order, he’d be happy to get rid of me right here in the club.

Sitting here, drinking leisurely while these three men grinned at me like hungry wolves, I fully realised just how far deep into shit I shovelled myself with this personal justice route I had taken. Yoongi kept me around only because it amused him to watch me struggle and both Jungkook and Hoseok were firmly against indulging me.

As much as I enjoyed annoying Jungkook cause he was one of the members that always let his anger show, and that was very therapeutic for me, I was aware the reason why I was such a sore in his existence was because he hated how close Yoongi let me. Given the chance he’d prolly kill me even without Yoongi’s orders.

Other than that, Jimin and Namjoon were dangerous to be around and speak with, and Seokjin I haven’t even met, but Jimin insinuated he was also getting a little trigger happy when it came to my meddling. Now gloves were off and I was truly treading thin ice. One misstep and I would turn into a warning, just like any cop that got too close. Up until now it was all fun and games, what’s a little tailing and tracking between friends, but once I put this investigation to life, I’d truly be in danger of retribution.

I once again glanced at the satisfied grin on Yoongi’s face, at his hands gently clasped around a whiskey glass, at his relaxed shoulders and designer suit and shoes, pretty hair curling around a pretty face, and I saw the violence hiding underneath. He was good at masking his, and that made him so dangerous. It was so easy to forget what kind of man you were talking to. And from now on I would risk standing in the direct line of Hoseok’s ire as well.

I threw back the rest of the cocktail I had in my glass, my stomach protesting as I hadn’t eaten much the whole day, and I stood up to leave. I felt their stares on me, all three of them burning through me with those fiery eyes, each of them showing a different kind of craze. The gaze of a puppeteer, the gaze of a honeytrap and the gaze of a killer.

I shuddered and moved away from them, closer to the edge overlooking the rest of the club. Everyone was enjoying just a normal Friday night, having absolutely no idea what was going on just a few metres above them. I envied them a little bit, I envied how carefree they seemed.

“Feel free to enjoy yourself tonight,” Yoongi spoke suddenly into the silent tension, “The drinks are on me.” With his arm he gestured over the railing of the balcony, down to the pit of bodies moving together to the rhythm as one. Suddenly the spell was broken and I once again started to percieve the loud club music blaring throughout the whole space as it reverberated through my bones.

Without me noticing, Yoongi had stood up as well and moved to me, his presence and the warmth radiating off of his body abruptly crowding me in against the railing. I froze in a moment, just sensing him right behind, close enough to make me feel he was there but not enough to touch, as he leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

“You do deserve to let loose and relax once in a while,” he spoke to me in a hypnotising drawl, his voice turning into almost a purr, “So don’t be shy… indulge.” A full body shiver wracked through me, making me jerk in place with the force of it, and for a brief moment I wondered whether this is what it felt like to be sung by sirens into a sure death. Yoongi chuckled again, a low rumbly sound that made me twitch, and then he stepped away from me.

The cool air rushing in broke the spell and I collected my bearings again, throwing a disgruntled stare at him over my shoulder while my knees fought to work again, hands clenching the railing like it was the only thing currently keeping me alive. I just managed to catch a glimpse of the man’s sardonic grin before he turned completely and left.

The two other men stood up as well, both of their faces once again amused by my plight as I was very obviously flustered by Yoongi’s behaviour, before they stepped out right after their boss, leaving me completely alone in the luxurious balcony bathed in red velvet and sin.

Defeatedly I sat down onto the nearest sofa with an ‘oompf’, all bones turned into soup as I decompressed now that the oppressive atmosphere left with them, and blankly stared at a wall for a moment before I was able to process things normally again. My phone started wildly buzzing in my little handbag and I decided that ignoring whatever just happened and taking the distraction it offered me was a better choice than to dwell on it.

Fishing the phone out, I checked the neglected notifications, not much really coming in except for a text from Cheol confirming he read my email about the files and that he’d be ready Monday to go over it once more and some social media pings. And then, a very noticeable slew of messages from Minjoon. The first one was from 19:22, which was around the time I arrived here, asking whether I’d still be up for a dinner. It was currently over 8pm, but there was a few more asking minor questions with the newest one only from a few minutes ago.

I quickly opened the chat and answered an affirmative, my brain just begging for me to distract myself from tonight’s happenings. Minjoon was happy to hear from me and I finally took him up on the offer to drive me, as I couldn’t exactly sit behind a wheel right now.

On my way out I pointedly ignored the bartender’s small smirk, or the bouncer’s curiously raised eyebrows, I ignored Yoongi sitting at the downstairs bar chatting amicably with the guy manning it and sending me very unsubtle mirthful glances, I ignored Taehyung’s flirty wave as I passed him in the hall and most of all I ignored Hoseok leaning against a sleek black car outside of the club with a cigarette between his fingers, icy eyes following my figure for as long as he could.

The second I disappeared behind a corner I half expected him to run after me and grab me, the feeling of being watched slithering along my back in a way that made me shudder in disgust and fear. I hurried towards a bigger road, the Friday evening rush swallowing me and hiding me amidst drunken college kids, foreigners and working folk trying to forget their responsibilities for at least one night. I could relate to that, but no matter how much these meetings took away from me, they always gave me some sick satisfaction in return. And I couldn’t wait for the day I truly bested him.

I waited around for a few minutes, just enough to have the evening chill start setting into me, before a familiar car came into view, slowing down until I could hop in quickly. Minjoon smiled at me warmly, his eyes getting caught on my outfit and he fought for a few moments to keep his eyes on the road. I blushed deeply under his gaze and felt the relief of not having to police my reactions like I did with Yoongi, finally getting the chance to freely feel without fearing his mocking eyes.

“Where were you?” he asked incredulously, voice a little shaky as his glances kept getting caught on my short skirt and exposed legs. There was an electric current going through me at his obvious interest, a fire slowly waking to life right under my skin, and I found myself subconsciously trying to fold my legs in a way that make them look even prettier.

“Just out with some friends,” the lie slipped out of my lips so easily I didn’t even stop to think about feeling guilty about it, too preoccupied with feeling the tension between us slowly cracking, clutching the handbag like a lifeline and revelling in my rising heartbeat. I felt so free, so opposite of how nervous and jittery Yoongi made me. And I wanted.

“I see, I thought you were going home to rest, so I didn’t want to bother you at first,” Minjoon said, lips turning into another warm smile, which I returned tenfold, my whole face lighting up.

“I’m glad you did, I was getting hungry,” I told him teasingly, “It’s always nice with a personal chauffeur, you know?” He went along with my teasing happily, hands attractively flexing on the steering wheel as he shot me a look with one eyebrow raised, lips playing with as subtle smirk. The whole atmosphere shifted; the tension close to overflowing. Suddenly it became very clear to us that we’ve been dancing around the line for too long.

“So where to, your highness?” Minjoon asked, even though he was obviously already driving with some goal in his mind. I only grinned at him and responded: “Wherever you want, sir.”

The place turned out to be a cute little restaurant, the kind that is open at all times of the day and a girl in full club attire in the evening wasn’t a strange sight there. I had to laugh at Minjoon’s choice, as he clearly improvised upon seeing how I was dressed. But the man was watching me with something I could call fondness in eyes and that was all that mattered to me as he placed his hand on the small of my back and led me inside.

Once seated, I found that there wasn’t really even a need for talking about the team, and frankly I wasn’t even in the mood to be discussing Yoongi when I had just met with him and was doing my best to distract myself from that. Minjoon was still watching me with some sort of fascination, his gaze flickering between intrigued and sensual, and I was sure he also wasn’t particularly interested in work related topics.

We exchanged some more flirty grins while we ordered, but politely waited to be alone before starting up any kind of conversation.

“So… outing with friends?” Minjoon started, gaze once again slipping to my attire before jumping back to my face slightly flushed. I only nodded, too spent to come up with something and spend my evening lying. “I wasn’t really feeling it,” I added after slight deliberation. Minjoon grinned.

“Was feeling up to meeting me though,” the man retorted, flirty expression taking over his face, “Gonna make me feel special. Be careful or it might go to my head.” I chuckled at him, leaning over the table to graze our fingers lightly together. Minjoon’s eyes immediately jumped down and zeroed in on the place of contact before he looked back to me, eyes hooded.

Suddenly feeling parched, I licked my lips, rolling my tongue along them slowly and curled them into a sly smirk. “Everybody deserves to feel a little special,” it came out almost on a whisper, the tense atmosphere setting between us and freezing us into our spots with dark eyes and hungry stares.

I still felt jittery from my encounter earlier in the night and it mixed together with the anticipation of what was to come from this, throwing me into a whirlwind of emotions that made my body tremble slightly. My stomach was all knotted up, but it didn’t feel unpleasant, instead there was excitement brewing and slowly spreading through my bloodstream.

Even after the food arrived, the air kept getting tenser, even as we attempted to have regular conversation, it crackled between us like an onsetting storm. Every word, every sentence inlaid with telling mischievous smiles and expressive eyes. Sometimes during the dinner it started dawning on me that this was inevitable, we both were already too far. With all the flirting we’ve been doing this was really only a matter of time, and it just so happened that tonight the tension was going to explode into something that we probably shouldn’t be doing.

I looked over at Minjoon again, properly eyeing him and his expression, and when his gaze met mine and darkened as he sat there with his cheeks dusted with pink, hunched over like he was ready to launch himself over the table, sitting there like he would rather be anywhere else and preferably somewhere where there were no barriers between us, that’s when I realised he also wasn’t as opposed to this as he should have been.

The small talk flew all stilted between us and we mostly just stewed in our own cocktails of emotions and sensations, trying to chew through our food as fast as possible so we could leave; and even though it was already a little chilly outside, there was a heat coming from within that was enough for a thin line of sweat to bead along my hairline. I couldn’t imagine what picture I painted at that moment, if with one look it was obvious how the arousal was steadily rising in my veins with every another second spent just shyly exchanging heated stares.

Every so often my eyes slipped a little lower, eyeing the young man’s collarbones just peeking out from his dark green tee, sliding up and down his arms as he leaned on the table and ate, and I could see from the delighted sparkles glinting in Minjoon’s eyes that he was aware, and very much returned the favour.

God, this was definitely going to end in disaster. There was no way we could avoid this any longer.

And I was right.

Once done with the food, we sat around for a moment just looking at each other silently, before Minjoon finally gestured towards the door. “You wanna go? I’ll drive you home,” he offered immediately, the kind words that I was already used to by now tinged by something a little more tonight. I nodded and after some flirty arguing over who’s going to pay, I finally surrendered and went outside to wait for Minjoon to settle the bill.

The cold air rushed over me and cooled my burning skin a little and I took a few big breaths to ground myself. The night Seoul was loud and lively, I found myself surrounded by joyful groups and couples dressed in their best sitting in restaurants and eating or walking around the sidewalk laughing, clearly aiming for one of the establishments in the area. It was quite refreshing to see, and I lost myself in the rush and buzz, watching others enjoy themselves.

And that’s how Minjoon found me when he came out, sitting on a little wall by the sidewalk dreamily staring off into the distance. He came over, hand going straight to my face, gently catching a strand of my hair and slowly pushing it behind my ear. He lingered there for a moment, fingertips brushing the reddening tip as all the blood rushed to my face in a mighty blush. On instinct I ducked my head being too flustered and broke the contact, but the man just smoothly moved to my shoulder, pushing me up to stand.

He was very natural in his movements, pulling me to his side and wrapping his arm around my shoulders very lightly, and I just went with it, too shy to express it but too happy to go against it. I fought against the instinct to giggle like a schoolgirl and set out to his car, which was quite a short walk, and unfortunately to my apartment it was a quite short drive as well, even in the restless silence that stretched between us.

Our arrival at my doorstep seemed to have come sooner than I was anticipating, sooner than I was ready to end this little outing. I turned to the brown-haired man and studied his face for a moment. We steadily exchanged eye contact, the tension between us back with vengeance, my throat drying up under his dark gaze. I was fluttering on the edge of propriety, in my head still repeating all the reasons why this was such a bad idea, but it didn’t seem to matter when Minjoon watched me with the same longing and desperation. I felt my skin heating up, my insides stirring with something I haven’t properly felt in such a long time it hit me with a ferocity I wasn’t prepared for.

“Aren’t you going to go home?” he whispered so lightly I almost didn’t hear him. He sounded slightly breathless, tone curious and probing.

“Can you walk me to the door?” I shot back immediately, almost unthinking. He licked his lips, his kind face getting twisted with something akin to intense desire before he quickly nodded, and we both scrambled to get out of his car.

The walk was brief, of course it was. I lived on a second floor and my door was accessible from an outside walkway, so all we had to do was clear two stories of stairs and we suddenly found ourselves by my tiny apartment.

I turned to Minjoon, something expectant in the air between us, and each second ticking by felt like a countdown to the inevitable. I wasn’t ready to end this night here. I knew I wasn’t. And judging by Minjoon’s bottomless eyes, I could confidently gamble on his interest and hit jackpot every time.

As the tense silence stretched out a little, neither of really sure how to tackle this situation as we were caught in the ‘will we won’t we’ and ‘should we shouldn’t we’, until I decided to break the curse. Stepping a little closer and looking up at him through my lashes, my hand latching onto the sleeve of his jean jacket that he put on in the car and tugging lightly, I steeled myself and jumped over the line head first.

“Do you want a cup of coffee before you go?” the whispered question escaped my lips and hung for a few moments between us. I watched as if in slow motion as Minjoon took it in and nodded once, then twice, and then his hand caught mine.

I turned hastily towards the door, jabbing the key in and pushing inside without a single thought in my mind. It turned out, there wasn’t even a need for an awkward pretending of drinking anything, because the second the door closed behind us, we were on each other.

It was like dam broke between us and we suddenly couldn’t stop, couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Minjoon kissed me quickly and desperately and I fought to keep up, hands going around his neck immediately while his snaked around my waist. Taking off shoes long forgotten, we stumbled inside and towards the sofa.

In that moment, I didn’t have the mental capacity to think about the huge maps in my bedroom. I didn’t realise how lucky I was we didn’t make it any further, too lost in the way Minjoon’s tongue was finally sliding against mine and how his calloused hands caressing my sides felt a lot like heaven.

And when he inevitably got his hands on my skirt and I inevitably thought of Yoongi’s eyes taking me in when I arrived at the balcony, and when Minjoon pulled me closer and I thought of Yoongi’s presence caging me in with his warmth against the railing, of his lips turning into a smug smirk as Minjoon kissed me, then I just pressed my eyes closed harder and tangled my hands into his short brown hair, banishing all thoughts of curly black locks far away into the deepest corner of my mind.

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