#special thanks to the peeps who helped me brainstorm

[bluevaractyl]

It's finished! Thank you, my lovely readers, for all your kind comments, kudos, and notes! It has been so much fun hearing from you as I write. This story has been a constant source of joy this past month. You guys are the best <3

Complete darkness surrounded Link. He took a step and heard a faint splash, felt a faint resistance to the movement. The silence pressed in on all sides, heavy and foreboding.

With nothing else to do, he started walking. He heard a faint rumbling, like thunder in the distance. It made his heart race. He couldn’t remember why.

The shadows shifted around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a mane of fiery red hair, the glint of tusks. The rumbling at the edge of his hearing grew to a roar. The sense of dread crested, and with a wordless cry Sky jerked awake.

The smell of ozone lingered from his nightmare. He opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of fiery red.

Panic jolted through him. He scrambled to his feet, but his legs immediately gave out. He collapsed to his hands and knees. Fireflies blinked in and out of his vision, and his hearing cut out. Sky struggled not to faint, gulping in air desperately. He clawed at his throat, feeling the phantom pressure of the rope there. His heart was pounding uncontrollably. The thudding in his chest drowned out all other sensations.

He must have fainted after all, because the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to the world tilted sideways. Sound and sensation gradually filtered back in.

“—ky? It’s okay, you’re okay, Sky. Can you hear me?” That was Wild’s voice, which meant the tan and blue blur knelt in front of him must be the Champion.

Sky groaned and tried to sit up. Wild did his best to help. Mostly upright again, Sky took a moment to look around and get his bearings.

High stone walls, dim sconces, wide open room—No, I can’t be back there, I thought I escaped, I thought they came for me—then he recognized the Captain’s blue scarf, Wind’s fluffy blond hair, Time’s golden armor. The orange glow came from two of Wild’s fire weapons. The Master Sword rested by Sky’s own bedroll. His sailcloth and bag were there too. When he raised his shaking hands to his neck, they met bruised skin instead of coarse rope. He was free. He was safe.

Overwhelming relief swept through Sky. A ragged sob tore from him. Without any warning at all, he found himself shaking with tears, desperately trying to stifle the sound. It felt like all the emotions of the last day were seeping out of him at once, a torrent of pain and fear and rage and sorrow fighting to be expressed by his fragile mortal frame. It hurt, but it felt good too.

Gentle arms wrapped him in a warm embrace. He crumpled, burying his face in Wild’s shoulder. Wild tentatively rubbed circles on his back. For a long moment, Sky just sat there, crying as quietly as he could, probably getting tears and snot all over the Champion’s tunic.

Finally, the tears slowed, and his hiccupping breaths evened out. He let out a long, quiet sigh. Wild didn’t let go until Sky pulled back. He wiped at his face. Shame burned in his stomach, but the relief was still stronger.

“Thanks,” Sky mumbled. His throat hurt, and he could feel a headache building. He avoided Wild’s searching gaze as he grabbed his bag to fetch his water bottle. He took measured sips, hoping to avoid a repeat of the last few times. The last thing he needed was to start coughing again.

“Hey, Sky?” said Wild, keeping his voice low. Sky doubted anyone was actually still asleep after all the noise he had made, but he appreciated the illusion of privacy anyway. “Sky, I…” He trailed off.

Sky looked up. Wild was glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him. He clenched his hands into fists. Unease stirred in Sky.

“I…I’m sorry. This was all my fault.” Wild forced the words out and turned his head away, letting his bangs hide his eyes from Sky’s view. Before Sky could protest the ridiculousness of that statement, he was plowing ahead.

“I should have noticed you were struggling back there. I should have realized the Yiga were targeting you. If I had been just a little faster, I could have helped—” He broke off, started again. “I don’t even know how they got here, but they wouldn’t have gone after you if they hadn’t been trying to get to me. It’s my fault you got hurt. I’m so sorry, Sky.” Wild glanced up at Sky, looking as if he expected rejection.

Sky couldn’t let that stand. He opened his mouth, closed it, and raised his hands. “Not your fault,” he signed, the motions rusty and stilted. His wrists still ached, but this was important.

“Y-I-G-A worked with the Shadow. The Shadow wanted me. To kill me,” he clarified. “Not because of you. I should have kept up, should have said something.” He looked Wild in the eye and deliberately signed, “Not your fault. I forgive you.”

Now it was Wild’s turn to cry. Sky hesitantly hugged him, letting the Champion cling to his shirt as he wept. He jumped a little when someone else touched him, but it was only Four, putting his arms around both of them.

The rest of the heroes gave up on pretending to sleep and joined the cuddle pile. Sky was soon surrounded by his brothers, each of them anxious to show him he was loved and wanted.

Sky whispered hoarsely, “Thanks for coming for me.”

Time answered, “Always. We’ll always come for you, Sky.” His voice was tight with emotion. Wild nodded in voiceless agreement.

Sky’s heart was full. I’m so blessed to have met you all, he thought, and sank back into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

~~~

Sky woke slowly. He lay with his eyes closed, listening to the soft hum of conversation. He could smell something cooking. He savored the familiarity of the moment.

Reluctantly, Sky opened his eyes and sat up. He stretched, feeling the pull in his stiff shoulders. All of his joints ached dully from spending most of the day before sitting on cold stone. That hardly mattered, though, when he turned and saw warm sunlight spilling in through the open doorway.

Sky’s breath caught at the sight. Moving without thought, he stood and walked to the doorway.

Wild had started a cooking fire outside and was stirring a pot, teasing Twilight as he cooked. Wind was sitting nearby, giving his two rupees with a dirt-eating grin. Four was polishing one of the Champion’s knives with practiced motions, head tilted to listen in.

Time and Warriors were standing together further away, probably discussing their next move since the Shadow had fled. And past them…

The sky was alight with color. Clouds on the horizon hinted at coming rain. The sun peeked through them, golden fire spreading across shades of lilac and amethyst on a backdrop of soft blue. It was the prettiest thing Sky had seen in a while.

Sky tipped his head back and smiled. He breathed in deeply. It was good to be alive.

Wild tapped him on the elbow. “Breakfast is ready,” he said, offering a bowl of porridge sweetened with wildberries and honey.

Sky accepted it and followed him back to the fire. He sat between Hyrule, who looked bleary-eyed but cheerful, and Warriors, who was ribbing Twilight about something he had said.

He took a small bite of porridge. Though he had been apprehensive about swallowing, it only hurt a little. The thick, smooth texture didn’t irritate his sore throat much.

“Feeling better this morning?” asked Warriors.

Sky nodded carefully. He put down his bowl and spoon and felt his neck. Before, the softest touch had been agony. Now, there was only light bruising, and some deep scratches he must have left when he panicked earlier. His head only hurt when he turned too fast. His vision was clearer, too.

“Here, let me help with those,” said Hyrule. He waited for Sky to nod before resting his fingertips on the scratches and murmuring his spell. The now-familiar tingling of magic spread through Sky’s neck. Hyrule pulled away and inspected his work. “I haven’t gotten enough magic back yet to heal the rest, but I will soon. Sleep helped a lot,” he explained.

He looked a little disappointed he hadn’t been able to do more, so Sky raised a hand to his chin and mouthed, “Thank you.” Hyrule smiled and gently bumped shoulders with him.

Wind piped up from the other side of the cooking pot. “I still don’t get it. What was the Shadow doing there? Was this his plan all along?” Legend shot him a quelling look, but Wind didn’t seem to notice, too busy reaching for seconds.

They have a right to know. Sky waved a hand for attention and signed, “The Yiga wanted to kill Wild. The Shadow wanted to kill me, to stop my legacy.” He swallowed and made a sweeping motion to encompass them all. “All of you.”

They were quiet as they absorbed that. The idea was still new to Sky. It felt right, though. He’d known for a while that his Zelda was the ancestor of the others’ princesses, and that the town they were building together on the Surface would one day become the kingdom of Hyrule. He had never really considered the importance of his own role, though. He was the princesses’ ancestor too, and all the heroes had followed in his footsteps to protect what he had started. They were his legacy.

Wind broke the silence. “I’m glad we found you, Sky. Even if you weren’t kind of important to our history, our group wouldn’t be the same without you,” he said earnestly.

The simple declaration made warmth well up in Sky’s heart. For the first time since meeting them all, Sky found he could believe it. He belonged with them. They wanted him there. This was where he was meant to be.

Sky leaned on his brothers and let himself breathe.

[far-side-skies]

And here we go! Naius Casaury, my character for this month's challenge, based off the cassowary!

Thanks to all the peeps in the Discord server who helped me brainstorm this guy together.

Name: Naius Casaury Age: 25 Occupation: Explosives specialist, Special Ops member of the Nightcrawler fleet Species: Nightcrawler/elf-Merb Hybrid Home Terra: Merbia

Naius Casaury was born to a merb mother on Terra Merbia. Due to his hybrid status and the general paranoia of merbs, he grew up socially isolated and struggling to make friends.

He did, however, find a friend in a younger cousin of his named Stork (yes, that Stork), who was more interested in his ability to fly and learning how to make traps than figuring out where his loyalties lay.

At least until Cyclonia invaded. During the chaos, he was separated from his cousin and got caught up in a fire that took his wings. Afterwards, no doctors on the Terra were willing to treat him, leaving him desperate and afraid for his family. When he heard Cyclonia was recruiting though, he enlisted immediately in the hopes of reuniting his family and getting medical help. He was assigned to the nightcrawler ranks and started the search for his cousin.

Years later, he's elated and surprised to find that Stork found salvation on the Condor and is now a Storm Hawk. Unfortunately, his cousin is... less excited to meet him again.

More stuff under the cut because I went in deep with this one. Including a lot of lore headcanons.

I turned elves into bugs and nightcrawlers into elves. They're actually related to the strato elves in my headcanon

All night elves have wings, but if they lose their wings, they're known as nightcrawlers. Cyclonia often employs nightcrawlers in exchange for giving them flight aids.

Night elves often live in hives run like beehives, lead by a singular queen who lays all the eggs.

Albino night elves are the subject of numerous superstitions.

Naius-specific:

Due to being the product of two highly social species, Naius is incredibly sociable and is prone to overstepping boundaries in his attempts to make friends with everyone around him. He's working on it.

While his traps did occasionally have explosive elements to them, he didn't gain prowess with proper demolition equipment until he joined Cyclonia.

This boy looooooves Halloween (or the Atmos equivalent of it) and can be found preparing for it months in advance. His Halloween parties are a favourite among Talons.

He can 'purr' by vibrating the hair-like structures on his neck at high speeds.

[erin-bo-berin]

Sweet Cheeks

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request for a smut where Spencer and the reader have a Garcia and Morgan like relationship and boy was this fun to write. I think I got to around 3,000 words before I even got to the smut part so I might’ve gotten a little carried away. Happy reading!

Also, HUGE thanks to @multifandommandy​ for inspiration and help with Morgan quips in this. You’re the best. :)

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 5,056

“Last night around 2 am in Alexandria, Virginia, Desiree Armstrong was brutally murdered in her bed.”

Your finger pressed the button on the remote to bring up more images of the grizzly murder on the screen. You grimaced, looking away.

“Yeah, this is why I never look, kid,” your mentor Penelope Garcia said from the round table, her back turned towards the screen.

“It was definitely brutal alright,” Emily Prentiss commented.

“There’s so much blood, you can hardly tell what happened,” Derek Morgan piped in.

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned, “The poor woman.”

“Has the autopsy report come back yet?” Jennifer Jareau—JJ for short—questioned.

“Yeah. She was stabbed 24 times with a-”

“Kitchen knife. It looks a lot like a Santoku knife. They’re similar to a chef’s knife, but they’re shorter and thinner with a flat blade instead of a curved one. Mostly, they’re used for mincing, slicing and dicing. You can tell because the stab wounds are slightly longer than a normal knife wound would leave,” Dr. Spencer Reid cut in.

You gave him an exasperated look.

“Okay hot stuff, would you like to come up here and finish my presentation for me?”

He grinned, looking back down at the file.

“Anyway, as I was saying. Her 18 month old Willow was missing from her crib when the neighbor found Desiree.”

“That means she’s been missing for at least six hours already,” David Rossi noted.

“Which is why we need to get a move on,” Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner said, “Let’s go.”

Everyone gathered their things, heading for the door.

“See ya later, Dite,” Spencer called over his shoulder as he headed to the door.

You grinned at his special nickname for you, remembering how the nicknames had all started between you two.

“You know how to reach me if you need me big boy,” you called back.

“You two sound like Derek and I,” Penelope chuckled from behind you.

“Well I did learn from the best.”

•

When you’d started at the FBI, you were placed in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Working under Penelope Garcia, their tech analyst as her assistant/protégée, you were anxious to learn as much as you could.

You were endlessly amused at the playful banter and nicknames Derek Morgan and Garcia had for each other. Although it appeared to be flirty, it was none other than just platonic teasing and banter. They just had the personalities for that.

To not be a profiler, Garcia sure could pick up on things as well as the actual profilers.

Like your almost immediate crush on Dr. Spencer Reid.

Maybe it had to do with the fact that it took you a few months to finally be comfortable around him. 

You could do your job well, but not without awkward fumbling or the nervous voice cracking.

One time he actually thought you were losing your voice and suggested you drink some warm ginger tea with honey for it. He couldn’t see you through the phone, but your cheeks flamed from embarrassment.

Garcia had laughed for almost ten minutes when you told her.

“Loosen up Y/N,” she said, “He doesn’t bite.”

“I know,” you grumbled, “But he makes me nervous.”

“Well it never hurt anyone to be a little flirty,” she pointed out, “Try it sometime. Even if it’s not reciprocated it can go a long way for your confidence and helping you be more comfortable around him.”

You had to admit she had a point.

Thus, your nicknames for him began.

-

“Ready to help sir,” you’d walked into the briefing room where the team was sitting around the table, working a case.

“Okay, Y/N we need you to look up every male in a 100 mile perimeter of D.C. that owns a Lamborghini,” Hotch said.

“Well that’s gonna be like looking for a piece of hay in a haystack,” you mumbled.

As good as Garcia was, you knew broad searches were still tedious to comb through without other search parameters.

“Narrow it down to owners that are between the ages of 25 and 35,” JJ said.

“Are married or have just recently been married,” Morgan added.

“Okay, keep it coming,” you scribbled your notes on your notepad.

“Look for owners that have no children. Also, check their financial records. They might’ve come into a large amount of money recently,” Spencer said.

“Got it, sweet cheeks. I’m off to search.”

You left to head back to yours and Garcia’s lair, missing Spencer’s raised brows and slightly flustered and confused expression.

Morgan smirked at Spencer, holding back a laugh.

“Which cheeks?” he teased.

Spencer blinked slowly, looking quite dumbfounded.

“She means the ones on my face...right?”

Morgan laughed out loud at this as he stood to grab more coffee. He patted Spencer’s shoulder on the way out.

Pretty boy had a lot to learn.

-

Sure, the first nickname had kinda just slipped out. But Penelope was right. It kind of was enlightening to tease Spencer. It was amusing and adorable when he would get flustered.

What you didn’t expect was Spencer’s nicknames for you.

The phone rang and you hit the answer button.

“Y/N’s the name, researching is my game.”

“Wow, you sound just like Garcia,” came Spencer’s voice.

“She learned from the best!” Garcia called from across the room.

“I need your undivided attention, bright eyes.”

The pet name slipped from his lips so easily that you actually stared at the phone, making sure you were actually on a call.

“Y/N?”

“Bright eyes, huh?”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one with Garcia rubbing off on you,” he chuckled.

“Okay. I’m all ears,” you positioned your hands above the keyboard, ready to work, “Fire away, stud muffin.”

•

It’d been five years since you first joined the team. You and Spencer were now incredibly close and flirty nicknames were now an everyday occurance. 

Even Garcia and Morgan were no match for your banter and here you’d thought theirs was crazy enough.

Maybe it was because you had feelings for Spencer, maybe not, but it didn’t faze the team much at all. They were used to Derek and Penelope, so it was just another day at work.

That didn’t stop their passing comments on the matter.

“Jeez, the sexual tension in here is so thick I can cut it with a knife,” Garcia once commented.

“Will you two ever just suck it up and date?” Rossi shook his head after listening to another every day banter.

“Can these two just fuck already or something?” Was a comment you’d accidentally overheard Morgan say when neither of you were around.

You weren’t exactly sure what to call you and Spencer, but he was a friend and that seemed to be how it would remain, regardless of your crush.

“Any luck in finding Willow’s father?” you asked Penelope as you scanned Desiree Armstrong’s documents.

“Nope,” Garcia huffed.

The two of you nor the team had any clue who would have done this to Desiree. They decided to start looking for a father, to see if he could be a suspect. So far, a search for him turned up nothing. He seemed to be a ghost.

Your phone rang and you answered it with a click of a key.

“Hey Aphrodite, I need your brains.”

Aphrodite or Dite was what Spencer had taken to calling you pretty early on. It was quite flattering considering what she was the goddess of.

“Well if it isn’t Hunky Brewster,” you commented, “And to think the genius needs my brains, I’ve never felt more special.”

“That you are,” he chuckled, “I need you to look into a neighbor: Evan Kelly. The victim’s sister said he had been bothering her for a while.”

“Gotcha,” you typed out the name, waiting for search results, “I’ll hit ya back when I got something.”

You hung up, beginning your research.

•

Spencer was in front of the murder board, studying it. So far, they only had Evan Kelly and the missing father. 

He was currently on the phone with Y/N, going over the findings on Evan Kelly.

“Basically there wasn’t a window this guy hadn’t peeped in,” your voice came from the speaker.

“Any arrests?”

“Nope. Seems like this guy was just a creep.”

He sighed, rubbing his jaw, thinking.

“Any luck finding a father of Willow?” he asked.

“Garcia is still looking, but he’s just not there,” you said.

“Like not in the picture?”

“Like doesn’t seem to exist. We can’t find a record anywhere.”

“Look into adoption records, see if you can find out if she was adopted. She might not biologically be Desiree’s,” he said.

“Good point,” you said, “Now I know why you’re the genius.”

“I aim to please, pretty lady,” he smirked.

“I’ll get back to you in an instant, sugar lips.”

When he hung up, he turned to see Emily staring at him, jaw dropped.

“What?” he asked.

She shook her head in exasperation before she spoke.

“What did you do to her?”

•

The team was back at headquarters, working hard to find the precious little girl.

You sat at the round table, working on the new lead the team had just discovered.

“So let me get this straight,” JJ said, “Willow Armstrong was adopted by Desiree Armstrong, although not through a legal company. As in, the company wasn’t legit?”

“More like it wasn’t done through any company at all. There was no paperwork, no legality, nothing,” Garcia answered, “It’s basically like the birth mother just handed over Willow and disappeared.”

“Maybe that was part of their verbal contract?” Rossi brainstormed.

“If so, then there might be an angry birth father out there,” Spencer thought out loud.

“And nearly impossible to find,” Derek sighed.

“Um, hello? Have you met me and my protégée here?” Garcia asked, motioning between you and herself, “We can find almost anything.”

“Any luck on finding an adoptive father of Willow?” Hotch questioned.

“No, there wasn’t a father,” you said, “Desiree was a single mother but her ex-boyfriend Scott Griffin knew she wanted to adopt apparently. I’ve contacted him and he’s willing to talk to you guys.”

“You never disappoint, angel face,” Spencer mumbled, still studying the murder board.

“Okay, Morgan, Reid you go speak to Griffin. We’ll stay here and see if we can track down the birth mother,” Hotch said.

“Got it. Thanks baby girl and protégée,” Morgan teased.

A moment later they were out the door.

•

“I hadn’t spoken to her in some time until just a few weeks before her death,” a bereaved Scott Griffin said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Morgan said sympathetically.

“Mr. Griffin, did Desiree ever mention the name of the birth mother?” Spencer asked.

Scott sat, thinking for a moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, she did. It was a unique name. Lorina something. Lorina Cano I believe. She wasn’t from here, but she lived around here she said.”

“What about the birth father?” Morgan asked.

“I never got a name, but Desiree said she claimed the birth father didn’t even know about the baby.”

Morgan and Spencer shared a look before turning back to Scott.

“Thank you for your-”

“Wait, there’s something else. I don’t know if it’s relevant, but the last time I talked to Desiree she said she thought there was a man following her. She caught him on her surveillance once.”

Morgan nodded while Spencer pulled out his phone.

“Thank you. We’ll see ourselves out.” Morgan said.

With a knowing look at Derek, Spencer hit your number, putting the phone to his ear.

You answered the call, putting it on speakerphone so Penelope could hear as well.

“Hola papito, how may I help you?”

You heard Spencer’s easy chuckle.

“Dare I ask what that means?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Garcia answered for you, not even looking up from her computer.

“Hot daddy,” she called.

If you could see him, you were sure he was blushing a bright red.

“I forgot to mention you’re on speaker, so keep it clean, both of you,” you chuckled.

“We need you to pull the surveillance from Desiree’s house. Scott Griffin said there was a man stalking her,” Morgan said.

“Okay will do. It’ll be ready for your viewing pleasure by the time you get back,” you said.

“Thanks Dite, you’re the best.”

“You know it, dreamboat.”

•

Half of the team were following other leads while you, Morgan, Rossi, Spencer and Garcia attempted to view the surveillance footage. It was slow going since it was pretty grainy.

Spencer stood in front of the big screen in the briefing room, studying it closely, his chin resting in his palm as he watched. He glanced over his shoulder at you.

“Honey, can you come here for a second?” he asked.

“Sure, sweet cheeks,” Morgan smirked, walking over to him.

Spencer looked at him, exasperated.

“Not you. Y/N.”

“Oh I see how it is. That hurts, kid,” Derek said, a hand over his chest mocking hurt.

You noticed Rossi’s lips quirked as you walked past him towards Spencer.

“Not. A. Word,” you mumbled to him.

“Do you see this car here?” Spencer pointed to the screen, “I think our suspect just got into it. Can you zoom in and see if we can make it out?”

This, he said to Garcia.

“On it, boo.”

He turned to you.

“I need you to see if you can find anything on Lorina Cano. If we can find her, maybe we can find the birth father.”

“Yup. My fingers are ready.” 

You were back in your chair working on your task, Spencer watching from behind you.

“Okay, got it.”

You pulled up the page for him. He read it, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Do you mind?”

“Not one bit,” he mumbled, still reading.

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the screen. Your heart sunk when you saw the same thing he just had.

“Dammit,” he groaned.

“She’s been dead since last year,” you mumbled, feeling defeated.

“Well I guess we have to track down the mystery father another way,” Rossi mused.

“I’m sorry,” you frowned, feeling like you’d failed.

“It’s not your fault Y/N, don’t worry,” Spencer said, pecking your cheek, “I have an idea though, I’ll be back.”

You were still stunned from the kiss that seemed to come out of the blue. It took you a second to notice the other three staring at you, raised brows and amusement all over their faces.

Your gaze went back to the screen quickly, your cheeks flaming hot. 

Derek’s amusing response made you blush even further.

“Reid never kisses me like that.”

•

“Guys, I think I got it!” Garcia said, rushing in with her laptop.

You had been lounging at the round table eating your dinner. She’d been sympathetic to your frustration and ordered you to take a break from your research to have some dinner.

“Got what?” you asked, slapping Spencer’s hand away from stealing more of your fries.

“Ow!” he pouted.

“Fine,” you groaned, putting one in his mouth.

You turned back to see, once again, the entire team staring at you two. Garcia especially.

“What’d you find, Garcia?” Hotch prompted.

“Right. Yes. Okay, so from the partial license plate I found who I believe is our unsub. His name is Noah Elliot and he works for a trucking company. I just spoke to his boss. Well, get this. We know the father didn’t know about the baby, right? Somehow he got clued in—whether by a friend, a family member, who knows—about little baby Willow and he was furious. So, he finds Lorina I’m assuming and finds out that she gave Willow up for adoption. Somehow he found Desiree and killed her, kidnapping Willow. If you think I’m done yet, I’m not, I have so much more! According to the boss, a truck recently went missing from the company, they haven’t been able to trace it. Noah hasn’t showed up for work in a week and the boss was cleaning out his locker since he was gonna fire him when he finally showed up again. In the locker he found this.”

Garcia turned her computer around. Pictures of Willow and Desiree had been hidden in his work locker, assuming no one would ever find them.

“He was stalking her,” Emily said.

“Yeah and hardcore,” Garcia said.

“Garcia is there a way for them to track that missing truck?” Hotch inquired.

“Yes, they’re working on it now and before you ask the address is being sent to your phones right now.”

“Let’s go,” he ordered, the team following behind them.

“Be safe!” you and Penelope called after them.

•

“I’m exhausted,” you sighed, plopping down in your chair.

In total, it had taken a little over 24 hours to find little Willow Armstrong, safe and sound. After managing to activate the tracking of the missing truck, Noah Elliot was located and caught trying to cross the Virginian border into North Carolina. He would be going away for a minimum of 25 years.

Willow would be placed in the care of Desiree’s sister. It was a bittersweet ending. Even though the child had been saved, it still upset you knowing that the poor little girl had lost her mother at such a young age. But, it was a win. Not all cases ended happily and you were glad this one had.

“Same,” Garcia mumbled. 

You were waiting for the team to come back. Garcia had ordered pizza and everyone was going to relax and rewind before heading home. It was well deserved. They had been on the move almost constantly throughout this entire case.

“Good work today, bright eyes,” she smirked.

“Stop it,” you groaned.

“Aphrodite, Dite, Angel Face, Honey,” she replied, heavy emphasis on each nickname.

“Okay, so? You call Derek nicknames all the time. Spencer too and the others.”

“That’s different. I do it out of love and you know Derek and I just have that type of close, comfortable relationship,” Garcia pointed out

“That’s the same with me and Spencer. I don’t see your point.”

“Yeah because you don’t see all the flirting that happens around this office like we do,” Garcia gave you a look, “You were feeding him fries earlier for God’s sake! I wish you two would just do something.”

“Well that’s going to be hard to do considering it’s a one way street, Penelope.”

“You clearly don’t know the boy genius like I do,” she smirked, “He doesn’t...what’s the word for it? Flirt. Not like he does with you because he’s comfortable around you and likes you.”

“I love you Garcia, but you’re delusional,” you heard a noise in the hallway, “Say is that the delivery guy?”

You hopped up to go check.

“I swear Y/N, I will lock you two in a room if I have to,” she mumbled.

You turned around, an eyebrow raised.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she grinned innocently.

You walked out into the hall, Garcia at your heels and found Spencer carrying three boxes of pizza, a big smile on his face.

“Someone order pizza?” 

•

You were the last to leave, so it seemed. You wanted to tidy up your desk and get some work done so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later. 

You stood in the deserted hallway, waiting for the elevator.

“Late night for you too?”

You startled and turned to see Spencer exiting the BAU, walking towards the elevator.

“I didn’t know anyone else was here.”

“Sorry for scaring you, by the way,” he chuckled and you waved it off.

“Tough case, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, walking into the now opened elevator.

“You did some great work, Y/N,” he said, walking in behind you, hitting the button for the lobby.

“Hey, you’re the real hero here,” you smiled, “I just do computers.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t know what to do without you,” he said then quickly clearing his throat, realizing his mistake, “I mean we wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“Well, thank you. That’s sweet.”

You rode in silence until a loud crash rang throughout the elevator, followed by a shuddering sensation. Suddenly, the elevator came to a complete stop.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” you gasped.

“Uh, well. This isn’t good.”

Spencer hit several different buttons with no luck. The elevator still hung between floors and you were stuck in here.

You were literally stuck in an elevator with Spencer. 

With your feelings bubbling to the surface even more lately, especially during this case, this was your worst case scenario.

This was not good.

•

“So,” Spencer said, pocketing his cell phone, “Hotch said it would be at least an hour or so before he and the building engineers can get down here.”

“Wonderful,” you mumbled, pacing the very small space of the elevator.

You were sort of freaking out. Not because of the actual being stuck part, but because you were afraid of what you might do or might say. This was dangerous territory.

Of course, there was no way Spencer knew that and he obviously interpreted your anxiety as a reaction to being stuck.

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay.”

He grabbed your elbow, stilling your steps in front of the metal doors. You slumped back against it, but at least you stayed still.

“You okay?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Studies find that the best distractions in stressful situations are meditation, helping others and-” he paused.

With a quick purse of his lips, his eyes glanced upwards nonchalantly and his brows raised just the slightest.

“Orgasms.”

Your eyes widened, sure you’d misheard him somehow.

“I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m not an idiot, Y/N.”

Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“What exactly are you saying?” you asked hesitantly.

“I think you know good and well what I’m saying.”

You were astonished and exasperated.

“Dammit Spencer, if you’re just messing with me, I swear.”

He was closing in on you now, a slight grin on his lips, tongue flicking over them in a quick movement, moistening them.

“I’m not,” he whispered.

Then his lips were on yours. It took a moment for you to get over the initial shock, but when you did, you were kissing him back. 

His hand that rested gently on your cheek, slid into your hair, pulling your head closer to him. After a minute of pure heaven for you, he pulled away much to your dismay.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he murmured, lips hovering over yours.

“Yeah?” you whispered, eyes still on his lips.

You were on cloud nine and you just wanted his lips back on yours.

He hummed his response, pressing his lips towards yours again. His hand slid along your waist, pulling you into him. Your lips moved feverishly with his, your first initial soft kisses quickly gaining intensity.

“Hold on,” he said after parting from you again.

He shedded his suit jacket and your eyebrows rose. He moved to the opposite side of the elevator, tossing the jacket over the camera that hung in the top corner.

You bit your lip, trying to hide your giggle.

“Just in case,” he smirked.

It took about only two steps for him to be in front of you again, his mouth busy against yours once again. 

You still hadn’t quite wrapped your mind around the fact that you were currently trapped in an elevator, your back pressed against the metal doors, making out with Spencer. But then again, you didn’t want to focus on anything but him at the moment.

A small moan escaped you when he tugged your lower lip gently, teasingly. His hands had somehow made it under your dress, sliding up your bare thighs.

You broke away with a gasp when his touch ghosted over your nether region through your underwear. He pressed his lips together, pulling them inward, his dimple showing up because of the expression.

“Is this okay?” he asked, hand hovering near your pulsating core.

“Y-Yes,” you managed to croak.

You don’t know just how long you’d been lost to his kisses, but he had gotten you worked up and you could feel yourself throbbing with the want. All the sexual tension the both of you had shared was coming to the surface and you were craving every bit of it ten times more now.

His fingers traced a line upwards along the outer portion of the undergarment, his lips on your jaw, making a slow descent to your neck. He was taking his time with you and it was driving you crazy. His hands slid up, pushing your dress up with them.

You reached out for his pants, unbuttoning them and pulling the zipper down. Other than your heavy breathing, the only sound was the slow grinding of the zipper as you pulled it down slowly. Your anticipation and arousal were making you short of breath and Spencer pulled back, eyes searching your face.

“I’m sure,” you answered his questioning expression, firmly.

That was Spencer. Always making sure to think of the other person first. You knew he wouldn’t have continued if you weren’t comfortable with it. 

His own arousal had grown to match yours, though his was obviously more apparent. You pushed his suit pants down, his underwear following.

Before you realized it, he’d hoisted you up and your high heeled feet were crossed behind him. His hand reached down, pushing your underwear to the side with a determined roughness as he kissed you. Then he was inside you.

Your hand tangled in his hair as he thrust gently to begin with, his eyes locked on yours. You felt a funny sensation in the pit of your stomach that wasn’t caused by your desire. 

The way he was looking at you was giving you extreme butterflies. It was as if you were the most beautiful woman in the world to him. 

Your hips moved in time with his and you bit your lip, whimpering from the pleasure. Your arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. 

“Fuuuck,” he groaned lowly, sending your body aflame even more so than it already was.

Never would you have thought that Spencer moaning in your ear would be so hot, but it was.

The more he thrust into you, the more your moans became less restricted, flowing freely from your lips.

“Spencer,” you moaned, gritting your teeth, “Harder.”

If he wanted to fuck you as hard as he wanted against these elevator doors you’d be totally okay with it. 

He obeyed your wishes, his body rocking into yours, one hand behind your head to keep you from hitting it. You briefly register the thought that even during a situation like this he was caring enough to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. 

“Y/N, shit,” he grunted, the sound sending shock waves down to your core.

As much as you loved his nicknames for you, you couldn’t help but love hearing your name fall from his lips in such extreme pleasure.

You grinned slightly, his nose pressing lightly against your cheek as he pulled you closer to him, his thrusts becoming uneven. He was on the brink of losing it, you knew it.

“Come on Spence.” 

Your hand gripped his hair and he lost all control his groan rippling through you. You had trouble realizing that you were the one having this affect on him.

But he wasn’t done with you, yet.

If he’d told you once, he’d told you a thousand times that he knew how to be a gentleman.

You reached down to finish yourself off but his hand moved yours out of the way, thumb landing on the bundle of nerves that sent an electrified feeling through your veins when his touch reached it.

“If you don’t know me by now, Y/N,” he grunted, his thrusts coming hard and fast.

“G-Gentleman. I know,” you moaned, your head lolling back against the metal doors.

His lips ravished your throat, his combined efforts releasing the fire in the pit of your stomach. You completely let go, your breathy moans filling the elevator, your back arching away from the doors.

When the intense feeling had subsided, your eyes opened to find him watching you. Your cheeks heated as you realized how out of control you must’ve been the entire time. But instead of being horrified or regretful, Spencer was smiling at you.

He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you gently, igniting the butterflies once again. It was this that truly confirmed that you’d fallen and fallen hard for Spencer.

After parting, you readjusted your clothing in silence, not exactly sure what to say.

“So, uh, wow,” he laughed a bit as he pulled his suit jacket back on.

He’d retrieved it from over the camera shortly after you’d disconnected from one another.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

Your legs were definitely feeling like jelly at this point and you were pretty sure he could tell. It had been pretty amazing sex. 

“I know this is kinda backwards from how it’s usually done,” he chuckled, suddenly timid, “But could I take you to dinner sometime?”

Your hand found his and his fingers automatically threaded through yours. You kissed his cheek before answering.

“I’d love nothing more.”

The whirring of the elevator startled the two of you. Ironic how it was just in time, it seemed.

The elevator arrived back to the floor of the BAU and you were surprised to see Garcia and Morgan in the hallway.

“What are you guys doing here?” Spencer asked, stepping off the elevator, you at his side.

“Hotch had a thing he wanted us to do,” Garcia explained lamely.

“Like getting us out of the elevator?” you asked, suspicious.

“Yes! That’s it.” Garcia said, eyes flickering to yours and Spencer’s joined hands.

She was heading back to her lair when you heard her call.

“See Morgan? I told you stopping the elevator would work!”

Spencer’s jaw dropped and you gaped after Penelope dumbfounded. 

Derek laughed heartily at your matching reactions before following after Garcia, calling over his shoulder to Spencer.

“Hope you had fun, sweet cheeks.”

Tag List: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @whatspunispun​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @thomasfoockinshelby​ @tinyminy88​ @theitcaramelchick​ @missprettyboy​  @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @theonlyone-meeeee​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @multifandommandy​

[lululawrence]

I'm interested in writing fic but it seems like everyone who writes on here, who I look up to, has some sort of formal writing training in the past and/or its part of their career. I'm worried that I'll make rookie mistakes that I see everyone here tear apart and no one will read any fic I manage to write. Any advice to overcome this insecurity? Or advice about resources for writing so I can learn about how to write properly? Thanks so much, I love ur writing so much

awwww i wanna hug you.

okay first off....anyone can write. and the “rookie mistakes” that people tear apart are choices that some people deliberately make. there will always be masterposts about some pet peeve that someone thinks is a legitimate writing tip and it’s...not. lolllll you won’t see me reblogging a lot of them just because i feel like SO MUCH of writing has to do with personal style. (unless it has to do with the use of orbs because that is my personal pet peeve like PLEASE DON’T USE THE WORD ORBS FOR EYES. i will still keep reading if i see it, but i just...it pulls me out entirely for a minute before i can bring myself to keep going lol) hell, a lot of my personal style in my fics was torn apart by my english professors in college and don’t even get me started on how much my history professors hated my writing (it was a LOT). so like...don’t care about that. throw all those misconceptions away. just cause someone doesn’t like the overuse of adjectives or adverbs or whatever doesn’t mean you can’t use them.

now to the real meat of this. as i said, anyone can write. i encourage everyone to write. there have been so many studies about how writing and journaling and all of that helps your memory and your brain and all sorts of incredible things, but it also has been proven to help with mental health. i’m a huge advocate of it. even if nothing gets published, writing is amazing. 

assuming you do want it to get published though, here are a few tips i have.

1. build a community around you. find friends who are supportive and can be amazing cheerleaders and maybe help you brainstorm when you’re stuck, etc. i would never have finished my first fic much less continued writing if i hadn’t had such amazing people around me. cheerleaders, brainstorming peeps, and friends make all the difference.

2. you know who else makes a difference? betas and brit pickers. you know why? not only can they help you sift through your fic and figure out where you need to streamline, where you need to flesh it out more, and your grammatical errors, but they can also help preread and boost confidence. “hey, you need to fix these things, but this is amazing!” can be so uplifting and helpful, and betas and brit pickers can help you with that. they can also help boost that confidence that your fic is ready to go out into the world. i have several friends who are too scared to have anyone read or help edit their fics before they post them, but i get too scared when i DON’T have them. my first several fics i had at least three or four betas and then a brit pick on top of all of them because i figured the more eyes i had on the fics, the better quality they would be. i relied on that until i felt stronger and found a few betas who best suited my style (and were as nit picky as i want them to be hah). they do hard and heavy work and are amazing. i thoroughly support you getting them. 

because you know what else they do? they help you avoid those “rookie mistakes” that you really do want to avoid. like orbs. (jk. kinda.)

3. keep trying. @briannamarguerite once told me writing is a muscle (and she probably regrets telling me this since i constantly tell other people this too hahaha) but it really is. you’re only going to strengthen that muscle by continuing to use it. the more you use it the more powerful it becomes. you learn so much and you grow and become better and stronger and more confident. the first several are SCARY. hell, even years later i still get scared to post my fics sometimes when it’s something new. but as time goes on, you really do grow in confidence and it feels amazing to see the growth in yourself as well.

4. we always need more fics, so don’t let the fear of mistakes hold you back. every voice gifts us something brand new and previously undiscovered, even if it feels like it’s just another university coffee shop fic or whatever you’re writing at the moment. i promise, it’s not the same as any other fic out there, and you’ll give your own special take on it, and we need it. we want it. we crave it.

5. have fun. we’re all disasters doing the best we can out here in this fucked up world and finding joy as we are able. if writing brings you joy, if you feel like creating a story from start to finish and sharing it with people gets you excited and makes you happy and productive, then DO IT. fuck the haters. you’re brave and strong and doing incredible things.

so there ya go. that’s my advice. haha 

oh! i just reread the ask to make sure i didn’t miss anything, as for writing resources, honestly i’m not sure where to point you. i know some people who are incredibly serious about their writing and they read all sorts of books about it and follow blogs and stuff, but literally all i do is write stories i would like to read. i’ve been an avid reader since i was in first or second grade and never really stopped, so i kinda ignore any formal training people offer and do my own thing. that said, i’m assuming if you’re asking you actually want references and not just me telling you to free ball it hahaha SO i’m gonna tag some people i feel like will have knowledge and advice of such things, but if i haven’t tagged you, please feel free to still reblog and add your thoughts on the end as well as links to places for this sweet person to check out!

hope this helps, nonnie!

@juliusschmidt @briannamarguerite @becomeawendybird @londonfoginacup @sadaveniren @allwaswell16 @fullonlarrie @disgruntledkittenface @helloamhere @greenfeelings @100percentsassy @gloriaandrews @laynefaire and literally every other writing blog out there hahaha help please?

[itskimtaehyung]

Alibi (M)

Detective Jungkook keeps getting himself into trouble… But he can’t stop. Not until he’s caught.

Member/Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, Jungkook x Jimin, Jungkook x Yoongi, Jungkook x @jeonjiah, Jungkook x OC Genre: Detective!Jungkook, SerialKiller!Jungkook, drama, mystery, horror, smut.  Word Count: 20.1k Content/Warnings: Very graphic depictions of death/mutilation/gore, LOTS OF SMUT, necrophilia, strong language, BTS member deaths A/N: This is my first time writing mxm smut so forgive me if it’s not... idk accurate? and I know all the medical stuff isnt 300% accurate please forgive me.

Also special thanks to jeonjiah for letting me use her as a character, @hipsterminseok and @pasteljeonggukk for helping me brainstorm ideas, @taendencies for encouraging me to keep going even when I really did not want to, and @4oclockvmin for being my beta 💕

Where the fuck am I?

Jungkook pried his eyelids open to find himself lying on a bed, the room completely silent aside from the soft whirring of the ceiling fan above him.

I don't have a fan in my room.

It was dark, but the room was just faintly illuminated by the street lamp shining through the window.

He reached a hand out and swept it across the sheets next to him, only to be met by a warm, sedentary lump.

Jungkook sat up, a bit too abruptly, and was met with an intense pounding in his head. He pressed a palm to his forehead, trying to still the room that was spinning around him.

Oh god, how much did I drink?

He always drank too much. It was a habit he picked up during his college days and he could never seem to shake it. However recently, he'd been blacking out more than usual, and it was starting to affect his work.

Jungkook looked over at the naked woman passed out next to him.

Please be alive.

He reached out two fingers and pressed them against her neck, searching for a pulse. To his relief, she stirred when his fingers made contact with her skin. He breathed out a sigh and silently put on his clothes, tiptoeing around the stranger and walking out of the room, careful not to wake her.

He exited the house to find his car in the driveway. Well, kind of in the driveway. It was half in the driveway and half on the neighbor’s lawn, having torn hideous tire marks through the grass.

Now where the fuck are my keys?

He patted down his jeans and jacket until he felt them in one of his pants pockets. He pushed the button, unlocking his car with a chirp chirp! and climbed inside.

His head was killing him, but at least he wasn't drunk anymore. It was stupid of him to drive drunk the night before. Who knows who he could have accidentally killed because of his stupid mistake. Even more stupid considering what he was. But what's done is done, and he can't undo it.

He pulled his phone out of the glove compartment and unlocked it.

12% battery. Shit.

Jungkook opened up the GPS application and searched for directions to his house.

Sunrise District. What the fuck am I doing in this neighborhood?

It was clear on the other side of the City from where he lived. He had no reason to be here, especially not at this hour. But whatever, he'd gone home with a lot of strange people before, so he decided not to question it further.

God, I really can't remember anything. Jungkook, you really need to stop with all this drinking.

But he's told himself this many times before, almost every weekend as a matter of fact. And it was to no avail. Every weekend he still drank until his liver screamed and he went home with questionable men and women, forgetting nearly all of it the next day.

One day you're going to do something really stupid and you won't be able to fix it.

He started the engine and tore down the quiet suburban street, making his way toward his house on the other side of the City.

Jungkook walked into the precinct the next day, fully caffeinated and with his dark circles prominent beneath his eyes.

“Good morning, Detective Jeon.” You approached him, handing him one of the cups of coffee in your hands.

He greeted you and accepted the beverage.

I guess another cup wouldn't hurt.

It was his fourth cup that morning. It took two just to stop him from feeling like a zombie after the night he had, and another to give him enough energy to sit through rush hour traffic to the police station.

“Hey, Jeon, you look like shit.” Detective Kim Seokjin came over and clapped him on the back.

“Thanks, Jin.”

“Rough night?” You asked him.

“Yeah. A bit. But nothing I can't handle.” He tried to laugh it off, but he knew it sounded forced.

You gave him a smirk, an expression that made him immensely uneasy.

“I hate to get right into it,” Jin said, directing Jungkook’s attention away from you, “but there's been another murder this weekend.”

Shit.

“Again?” Jungkook tried to sound surprised. In a way, he was surprised, since the person he woke up next to was still alive when he left. “Where this time?”

“Sunrise,” Jin informed him.

Fuck.

“Where in Sunrise?”

“Over on Smeraldo and Bloom Street.”

That was just a few blocks away from where he woke up. But it couldn't have been him. How would he have killed someone and then gone home with someone else? Without any blood on his hands?

Usually when he woke up he was still at the scene of the crime, more often than not lying in a pool of blood. Not his blood.

Other times he would wake up in bed with a random person he met at the bar, but those times, there was no murder.

Never had he done both.

Maybe it was just a coincidence? Maybe this had nothing to do with him?

Maybe… Hopefully…

Jungkook pulled up at the house, with you in the passenger seat and Jin in the back. It was a small, unassuming, split-level home, painted a faded retro pink. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the neighbors peeping through their curtains, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on next door.

When the detectives set foot into the home, the sharp tang of blood filled their nostrils. There was a trail of it, leading down the cream carpeted staircase, through the living room, and disappearing at the door.

“So the blood just stops…?” Jungkook asked, to no one in particular.

One of the medical examiners walked over to where the three detectives stood, confused by the odd and abrupt end to the blood.

“Yeah,” the medical examiner answered. “There’s no trace of it past the threshold of the building. But…” He hesitated. “That’s not even the most bizarre part.”

“What do you mean, Hoseok?” You asked.

Hoseok let out an exasperated sigh. “Just… It’d be best if you just came to see for yourselves.” He led the detectives up the blood soaked stairs,ensuring they put on shoe covers beforehand so that they wouldn’t get any precious evidence on themselves.

There was a lot of blood. Seemingly more than a human body could possibly contain, appearing to be an endless trail that led down the hall toward the master bedroom.

“I hope you had a light breakfast,” he told them, voice devoid of any humor, before pushing the door open, letting out an even stronger whiff of metallic iron. “Men, prepare yourselves. I’m sure this will be far worse for you than for Y/N.”

The three detectives nodded and entered.

“Oh god!” Jin gagged the moment he saw what was in that room.

“Holy fuck!” As gruesome as it was, you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.

Yet Jungkook just stood there, dumbstruck.

Shit.

However, it was not the horrors before him that had him so aghast, but rather the fact that this was definitely his work.

The man lay on the bed, surrounded by his own blood. Much of it was dried, however some pools were so deep and thick that they remained wet and sticky, even hours later. It appeared that his eyes had been removed, with X’s carved into his eyelids. There was a long, deep gash down the middle of his chest, sliced with the utmost precision.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

“Oh god. Is that his dick?!” Jin exclaimed.

“Detective Jin,” you scolded, “we are in a professional environment. Please, watch your language.”

“Sorry. Is that his penis?” He revised.

Everyone in the room looked over to the window. Laying on it’s sill was indeed the man’s penis, surrounded by even more blood, soft and flaccid, with testicles still attached.

You and Jungkook approached the window while Jin stayed behind, trying his hardest not to vomit and taint the crime scene. Upon closer inspection, the two of you saw that the shaft was cut down the middle lengthwise, held together only by its base.

“What do you think, Jungkook?” You asked.

“I– uh– God, who knows. I’m at a loss for this one.”

You nodded and turned toward Hoseok. “Do you think it was a woman? I mean, who else could hate a man this much?”

Hoseok shook his head. “I don’t know. The M.O. seems to be consistent with a couple other murders that have been happening lately.”

“So you think this was a serial killer?” You pursed your lips.

Hoseok crossed his arms and nodded.

Jungkook’s mouth went dry. If they noticed a pattern between all of his victims, that just meant they were one step, even if it were a miniscule step, closer to catching him.

“But the thing is,” Hoseok continued, “most serial killers leave a signature, like some carve messages into their victims, or decorate them with flowers, so that the cops know that it’s them. However, this one…” He walked over the the victim, using his hand to gesture toward the slash down his chest. “The only way I could tell they were the same person is the way they made the cuts, quick and precise, with a sharp… I would like to say knife but really it could be any sort of sharp object, but they were done with the same weapon.” He stood back and looked at the man, particularly at the bright red void in between his legs. “They also like to mutilate their victims, in this case sex organs, which is actually quite common among serial killers, often because they feel like they’re ‘ridding the world of sin’ by doing so, so I couldn’t use that reasoning in drawing my conclusion that this, the Ambrosia murder, and the Skyline murder were all committed by the same person.”

“But they are committed by the same person, right?” You asked.

Hoseok nodded. “I believe so, yes.”

Jungkook fixed his gaze on the body and clenched his fists at his sides. “And do we know anything about this person?”

Hoseok sighed. “No, nothing. We don’t know gender, height, weight, age. Nothing. Although since all his victims are in their twenties and all the murders seemed to have occurred during sexual intercourse, I would assume the murderer is also around that age. Each victim seems to have experienced some sort of penetration before being murdered, but that could have been with a penis, strap on, or anything else long and rod shaped. Again, these are just guesses. We don’t know anything.”

Good.

Jungkook continued to stare pensively at the victim.

The thing was, whenever he killed someone, he never remembered it afterward. Not until he saw the bodies again, and then his memories came rushing back.

He was at a new nightclub in the Seaside district. It was one of those trendy ones, with a light up dance floor, white leather chairs and booths, and touch screen table tops so you could order drinks without having to leave the comfort of your seat. Whenever Jungkook went to places like these, he avoided the VIP area, and he avoided anyone who went up to dance on the shiny gold stripper poles. Not because he had anything against those people, but because those are the ones that people will recognize. If one of them went missing, or had their face shown on the news as a murder victim, there was a higher probability that someone recognized them from the club or bar or even remembered that they left with Jungkook.

He hovered by the bar, downing enough shots to get himself in the mood, and scanning the premises, searching for his next victim. It had been a while since his last kill, and he was feeling anxious to get some blood on his hands. Jungkook could feel the alcohol starting to seep into his veins. His mind grew fuzzy as he ran his thumb over the small knife in his jacket pocket.

That’s when he spotted him. He sat at a table alone, watching as the people around him swayed their hips sensually to the music, and drinking away his sorrows.

He had a sad look in his eyes, something that told Jungkook he wouldn’t mind hooking up with a random stranger to take his mind off things.

Jungkook downed another shot and strode over to the man.

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted him. “Mind if I join you?” He asked, yelling over the loud thumping of the fast paced song that just came on, flashing the man a flirty smile.

The man, with his mouth slightly open and seemingly taken aback at the fact that someone was approaching him, paused before replying with, “Sure, go for it.”

Jungkook sat down in the seat next to him. "You doing okay? I noticed you earlier and you look kinda down."

The man took a sip from his cocktail and shrugged. "I've been better."

"Care to elaborate?"

The man raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "I just met you."

"Good point. Why don't we introduce ourselves. You are...?"

The man stared back out into the crowd. "Jimin," he answered curtly.

Jungkook extended his hand out. "Nice to meet you, Jimin. I'm James."

He gave Jungkook a questioning look, ignoring his extended hand. "James..." Jimin repeated slowly. The name was foreign on his tongue, in a language he wasn't used to speaking.

Jungkook reached over and placed his hand on top of Jimin's, which held onto his cocktail glass that rested on the table. "Say, Jimin... You up for some fun tonight?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"What kind of fun?"

"Oh, I think you know what kind."

Jimin chuckled. "So my place or yours?"

"Yours."

Jimin nodded and finished his drink before standing up. Jungkook followed him out the door, pushing through the crowd and into a cab.

By the time the two of them stumbled into Jimin’s house, groping and covering each other with sloppy wet kisses, the alcohol had plenty of time to set into Jungkook’s veins. He felt bold and energized. So much so that, when Jimin was tripping over his own feet trying to get up the stairs, Jungkook brazenly picked him up and carried him. He didn’t want to waste any time. He needed this and he needed it now.

Jungkook threw Jimin on the bed and began undressing.

“I take it you’re a top,” Jimin said, propping himself up on his elbows to watch Jungkook, who stood at the foot of the bed. “What if I am too?”

Jungkook ignored his question and continued vigorously yanking his clothes off his body.

“I guess I don’t really have a say in this, do I?” Jimin raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

“Why are you still dressed?” Jungkook was now fully naked and pulling a condom out of his pocket.

“Do you really have to use a condom? I swear I don’t have anything,” Jimin said as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.

“I don’t fuck anyone without a condom. Especially not a stranger.”

“Tsk tsk. Is that all I am to you?” Jimin smiled playfully.

“Precisely.” Jungkook rolled the condom over his hard length and gave it a couple of strokes to make sure it was secure. He then, deciding that Jimin was not getting undressed nearly as fast as he liked, leaned over the bed and helped Jimin yank off his jeans.

Jungkook saw how hard Jimin was through his underwear. His cock strained against the fabric, trying to break free. Jungkook’s mouth watered at the dark stain of precum pooling at its tip.

This is going to be a fun one.

Jungkook lowered himself onto Jimin, grinding his thigh against Jimin’s dick, watching the precum spill out of it.

Jimin gasped as Jungkook rubbed against him. He grabbed onto Jungkook’s ass and pulled him closer, Jungkook’s latex clad cock grazing his hip.

“James, I–” Jimin gasped as Jungkook pressed his thigh harder onto Jimin’s length. “How long are you going to make me wait?”

Jungkook pushed himself off of him. “You got any lube?”

Instead of answering, Jimin reached over to his nightstand, pulling out a bottle of clear gel and tossing it to him.

Jungkook squeezed a glob onto his hand and ran it over his shaft, making sure the condom was nice a slick before leaning over and lining himself up at Jimin’s entrance. He pushed himself in slowly, watching Jimin’s eyes roll back as he took in every inch with ease. Jungkook placed a hand on either side of Jimin’s shoulders, trapping him with his body.

“Fuck,” Jimin breathed as Jungkook began moving his hips, guiding his cock in and out of him.

Jungkook bent down and latched his mouth onto Jimin’s neck, sucking hard, enough to get him to moan, but not hard enough to leave marks. He quickened his pace, thrusting vigorous enough and fast enough to cause the bedframe to creak beneath them.

Jungkook took one of his hands and placed his thumb on Jimin’s nipple, massaging it, pressing hard circles into it as Jimin squeezed his eyes shut, breathing erratically and getting lost in the pleasure. Soon, Jungkook looked down to see Jimin’s abs twitch as milky white streaks of cum shot out of the tip of his cock, onto his stomach, his abs, some making its way even to his chest. Jimin cried out as he came, and Jungkook was grateful that they were in a house and not an apartment, otherwise the neighbors would have definitely heard him.

Watching Jimin cum made Jungkook’s cock throb, but it wasn’t enough to push him over the edge. He needed more. So, as Jimin was coming down from his high, Jungkook pulled out, and pumped his dick in his hand. Jimin was so far gone, that he didn’t even notice Jungkook rummaging around in his clothing, cock in one hand, digging in his pockets with the other, and finally pulling out a small knife from his jacket pocket. Jungkook grabbed it by the hilt and placed the blade between his teeth, ripping it out of its sheath with his mouth.

Jungkook returned to kissing Jimin’s neck, the knife hidden behind his back. “Did you enjoy that, Jimin?” Jungkook asked with his lips pressed against Jimin’s skin.

“Couldn’t you tell?” His eyes were still closed, and his softening cock still twitched from his orgasm. He opened one eye and looked at Jungkook. “What about you, though? Aren’t you going to cum?”

Jungkook hummed and placed a kiss on Jimin’s collarbone. “Oh yes. Very soon.”

With that, he pulled back and plunged the knife into Jimin’s chest, dragging a clean slice down his torso.

Jimin’s scream was cut short as Jungkook punctured his trachea and severed one of his lungs. Blood oozed out of his chest, along with the last remnant of his life, which only served to turn Jungkook on even more.

But Jungkook didn’t want to stop there. He placed a hand over Jimin’s now soft member, picking it up and squeezing it, playing with it in his hands. He brought the knife to its base, carefully slicing it off.

Beautiful.

That was what he thought when he brought the severed penis up to his face to get a closer look at it. Blood dripped down his wrist and forearm as he held it. He licked a stripe up the shaft and swirled his tongue around the head, letting the remainder of the cum drip into his mouth. He used his hand to stroke himself while he did this, feeling the muscles in his abdomen tensing and the heat rising in his core.

“Mmmm,” Jungkook moaned at the salty taste that coated his tongue.

He continued to stroke himself as he walked over to the window, placing the cock on its sill.

I wonder if there’s any cum left inside.

To get his answer, Jungkook ran the knife swiftly from the testicles up to the head, slicing it clean in half, held together only by the base in a V shape. To his disappointment – or maybe his enjoyment – there was only blood. More blood than he expected.

“Fuck,” Jungkook couldn’t help but say out loud. Jimin was so healthy, his blood so red, its scent so metallic, it made Jungkook’s head spin in the best way possible. Although, that might have also been due to all the shots he took at the bar.

Taking one last glance at the mutilated penis, Jungkook turned back to Jimin’s body, Jimin’s glorious, sexless body. He pushed Jimin’s legs together – which only forced more blood out of his gaping wound – and straddled him. He leaned over and rubbed his cock on the oozing slit that tore through Jimin’s torso. A slew of grunts and moans escaped his lips as he thrusted himself closer and closer toward his orgasm.

But there was something missing. He felt like there was something else he had to do. Then, he looked up at Jimin’s face. He saw that Jimin’s eyes were still open, frozen in the split second horror and realization that he was being murdered.

Jungkook tilted his head to the side, studying, contemplating. That’s when he decided.

He grabbed the knife that had since been resting beside Jimin’s thigh and brought up to Jimin’s face. Without hesitation, he jabbed the weapon into one of Jimin’s eyes, swirling it around and nearly pulverizing the eyeball. He did the same with the other eye, until both eyeballs were pools of blood and jelly. When he pulled the knife out, he closed the lids over their empty sockets, carving X’s on top of them.

Jungkook pulled back to get a better view. He chuckled at how comical it looked, like how cartoon characters were marked as dead with X’s for eyes.

He pushed himself off of Jimin and sat back on the bed, admiring his work. One hand held onto the knife while the other gripped around his cock, moving up and down until Jungkook was releasing into the condom, chest heaving and raspy breaths leaving his throat.

God. That was one of the best ones yet.

Jungkook continued to run his hand up and down his cock until his sensitivity became unbearable and he began to soften.

He lay back on the bed next to Jimin, waiting for himself to calm down. Intending to rest only briefly, he closed his eyes, but accidentally fell asleep.

He couldn’t seem to recall how he woke up in that woman’s bed, or who the woman was for that matter. All he knew was that he fell asleep at Jimin’s place and woke up somewhere else, with both him and his clothes completely clean of Jimin’s blood. And it obviously wasn’t a dream since he was standing here now, staring at his creation.

“Jungkook, are you still there?”

The sound of your voice pulled Jungkook out of his memory.

“Huh? Yeah.” He shook his head, trying to bring himself back to the present.

Noticing the uneasy look on his face, you placed a hand on his arm. “You don't look too great. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just. I don't know what to think," he lied. "This and the previous unsolved murders. I'm stumped.” He let out an exasperated sigh, which he hoped didn't sound too fake.

“Don't blame yourself. We’re all stumped," you reassured him, giving his arm a light squeeze.

“There's no DNA evidence at any of the crime scenes?” Jin called from where he was hunched over in the doorway, trying not to look at the body and still attempting to keep his morning coffee in his stomach.

“No,” Hoseok replied. “This person was very careful. No hair, no semen or vaginal fluid. Not from anyone but the victims. And there's not enough saliva to pull a viable sample.”

"Well if that's the case, can we pack up the body and get out of here already? Before I projectile vomit all over the place?"

Hoseok nodded and motioned for this assistants to pack up the body into a big black bag.

"What about the...?" You nodded toward the window sill.

"Ah, yes. Boys," Hoseok called to the men who packed up the body, "don't forget that too."

The men nodded and followed their orders.

Back at the precinct, Jungkook sipped on his fifth cup of coffee of the day as he looked over the case files for the Ambrosia and Skyline murders on his computer. He looked for any evidence that could point toward him. To his relief, there was none.

All three case files said the same thing.

Each victim suffered from some form of mutilation and it was most likely that the mutilation occurred during sexual intercourse, after the victim was deceased. However, there was never any DNA left at the scene, or any readable fingerprints. The weapon could be a number of things: a small knife, a switchblade, anything small and sharp, and most likely untraceable. Each one used the same kind of weapon. There was nothing that they could use to determine the height, weight, or gender of the killer.

"Whatcha doin?"

Jungkook jumped at the sound of your voice and turned to find you leaning over, your face right next to his, reading over his shoulder.

"I– I'm looking over the case files of the previous unsolved murders to see if there's anything I missed."

You raised an eyebrow. "Mhm."

"What?"

"Nothing. Don't overwork yourself." You smiled and patted his shoulder before returning to your desk.

That was fucking weird.

Jungkook looked back at his monitor, opening the Ambrosia murder file.

I remember this one.

June 13th, 2020.

That date marked the one year anniversary of Jungkook working at the precinct. In such a short time, he had already become well loved by his boss and fellow coworkers. He was considered one of the best detectives in the precinct, something that gave him a tremendous amount of pride.

To celebrate this anniversary, you, Jin, Hoseok, and the rest of the precinct took him out to a fancy bar downtown. Hoseok, quite the party animal outside of work hours, ordered an excessive amount of shots on Jin's credit card. Which meant Jungkook got utterly fucking drunk.

By around midnight, more than half his coworkers were passed out, leaving you, Jungkook, and a few other guys from forensics still standing. The lot of you helped haul your inebriated friends out of the bar and into cabs so that they got home safely. Soon, the forensics guys had also had enough, and went home, grumbling about the killer hangover they would have the next day.

"I should get going, too," you said to Jungkook once they've left.

"What? So soon?"

"Yes, I've had more alcohol tonight than in my entire time in college."

Jungkook pouted. “Fine, but I'm gonna stay. Maybe find a friend." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Alrighty, well I'm gonna call myself a cab." You threw on your jacket and patted Jungkook on the arm. "Don't stay up too late, Kookie."

He chuckled. "I'm not making any promises."

You smiled at him before walking out of the bar.

Now that his coworkers were gone, the real fun could begin.

Jungkook scanned the bar, looking to see if there was anyone worth flirting with. Not finding anyone to his liking, he stumbled out to a bar a couple of blocks down. The second he walked in, his eyes fell on a man, talking with a small group of friends and sipping on a beer. He had shiny blonde hair, golden like a halo around his head. Jungkook tilted his head to the side and watched him. He was intrigued by this man, and the glittering aura he gave off.

Jungkook decided to study him a bit longer, not quite ready to approach him.

Have I ever seen someone so beautiful?

He went up the the bar and ordered a few drinks, keeping his eyes on the man and his group of friends. He leaned back against the bar and took a couple swigs of the beer the bartender had set in front of him.

One of the man's friends said something funny, causing him to laugh, his smile taking up his entire face.

Wow.

Jungkook toyed with the small knife in his pocket. It was a gift from his grandfather, something he considered a good luck charm. He always took it to work with him, and now, he hoped it would give him the confidence he needed to talk to this man.

Luckily for Jungkook, soon the man's friends left him, probably to go home. Jungkook set his beer down and took a shot of liquid courage before making his way over to where he stood.

The man raised an eyebrow as Jungkook approached him.

"Hi," Jungkook greeted him with a confident smile.

"May I help you?"

"I just noticed you earlier and thought you were very attractive."

"Thought? Past tense?"

Jungkook laughed. "No. I still think you're very attractive."

"Mmmm," the man hummed. "Interesting..." He narrowed his eyes.

"You alone tonight?" Jungkook asked.

"I am now."

"You single...?"

"Maybe..." The man looked at him, wanting to know where he was going with this.

"You up for a little something tonight?"

"Hmmm." The man looked Jungkook up and down, taking in his loosely fitted white t-shirt, tight black jeans, and scuffed up sneakers. "You're a bit younger than I usually go for."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"But I think I'll make an exception. Because I think you're very attractive, too." The man flashed him a flirty grin.

"Then can I get your name?"

He smiled. "Yoongi."

Yoongi. That's why he seems to be glowing.

"I'm Joshua." He never gave his real name when it was just a one time hookup, in case they tried looking for him afterward. Too many times in the past have previous hookups added him on social media or searched for his contact information, wanting to hook up again, but to Jungkook, they were a one time, and one time only, type of fling.

"Nice to meet you, Joshua. So I guess that leaves the question of my place or yours?"

"Yours."

"You're the one approached me, and now you're imposing on me?" Yoongi teased.

"Believe me, you would not want to see my place." At this time Jungkook's roommate hadn't moved out yet, so he still shared a tiny studio apartment with one of his college buddies.

"Why? You're not a serial killer with some freaky dungeon or something, right?" Yoongi joked.

Jungkook let out an airy laugh. "No, I just have a roommate."

"Ahhh, Of course, it's a bit early for an audience. Maybe, one day, if you're up to try a little exhibitionism."

Jungkook chuckled. "Not in this lifetime, I don't think."

"Very, well." Yoongi finished his drink and led Jungkook out of the bar.

Turns out Yoongi's place was quite swanky. He lived in what appeared to be one of those old hotels that had been converted into apartments. It was the kind that was decorated in gold and velvet and looked more like an opera house or theatre than those modern condos that have been popping up everywhere.

"Whoa," Jungkook breathed as he entered the lobby.

"Nice, right?"

"Yeah, man. How old is this place?"

"It's a replica. It was actually built in the last ten years or so."

"Really? It looks so authentic."

"And how would you know what authentic looks like?"

"Movies."

Yoongi chuckled. "Of course." He and Jungkook entered the elevator and Yoongi pressed the button for the 8th floor. "Coolest part is, that, like the old hotels, each room has its own name and theme."

"Really? What's yours called?"

"Ambrosia."

The way that word rolled off Yoongi's tongue, the way it danced on his lips, the way it tickled Jungkook's eardrums, sent shivers up Jungkook's spine.

And sure enough, when they arrived at Yoongi's gold painted door, Jungkook saw on it a little placard that read "Ambrosia."

"I like that word," Jungkook told him.

"Hm? Ambrosia?"

There it was again. That beautiful sound, rolling exquisitely off Yoongi's tongue. Jungkook licked his bottom lip and then caught it with his teeth as Yoongi opened the door and let the two of them in.

Through the golden door was a one bedroom apartment. Everything was decorated in white and gold. It was somehow fitting, not at all excessive or gaudy or cheap looking, but rather pristine, like it belonged to the gods. It suited this glowing man and his golden aura.

"Wow," Jungkook gasped, taking in his new surroundings. "You really live here?" He walked around the moderately sized living room and adjoined kitchen. It was beautiful yet dizzying, and he wondered if it was because of the alcohol that was still ever so present in his bloodstream.

"Yeah, man." Yoongi replied as he shrugged off his coat and threw it on the white leather love seat. "The great part about this place is that it all come fully furnished and decorated. You only have to pay for the furniture if you damage it. Bad part is, the availability of these apartments is low, so if you're first on the waiting list and a room opens up, but you don't like the theme, you either have to live with it or give up the room and rejoin the waiting list. Thankfully I got a nice one."

"Shit. Yeah. I haven't seen the other rooms but I'm pretty sure you have the nicest one in the entire complex."

Yoongi chuckled. "I don't know about that. I heard there’s one decorated like a sex dungeon."

"Oh? I take that back. You have the second nicest one."

Yoongi laughed and stepped over to Jungkook, grabbing onto his waist. "Now, are we gonna do what we came here to do?"

Suddenly remembering, Jungkook leaned in, pressing his body against Yoongi's. "Oh, yes. Definitely."

Yoongi closed the distance between them, crashing his lips with Jungkook's, and placing his hands on the back of Jungkook's neck to pull him closer. Jungkook returned the kiss eagerly, feeling the excitement and electricity coursing through his veins. Yoongi's tongue snaked it's way into Jungkook's mouth and played with his. They stood there kissing for a few minutes before Yoongi pulled back.

Jungkook's eyes grew wide. "Shit, that's some tongue you got there."

"You wanna find out what else it can do?"

"Fuck yes."

With that, Yoongi pushed Jungkook into his bedroom and onto the bed.

Jungkook lay flat atop the puffy white comforter, his erection protruding prominently through his jeans. Yoongi crawled on top of him and began kissing him, stroking Jungkook's hard cock with his hand.

Jungkook groaned into the kiss, feeling Yoongi's erect member rubbing against his thigh.

"Fuck," Jungkook moaned. "Get undressed."

"You too, handsome."

The two of them discarded their clothes onto the floor and returned to their original positions.

"God, you're so fucking hot, Yoongi."

Yoongi chuckled and started kissing down Jungkook's jawline, neck, chest, abs, belly, until his face hovered over Jungkook's crotch.

"Are you ready to experience Min Yoongi's tongue technology?"

Jungkook nodded, unable to form any words. His breathing ceased in anticipation. He could feel Yoongi's warm breath against his cock, which quivered at the sensation.

"But first." Yoongi got up to grab a condom from his drawer.

"Do we really need one of those?" Jungkook asked impatiently.

"Hey, I don't know who you are or where you've been and I don't wanna catch anything you might have."

"I'm clean, but I get it if you don't trust me. Just hurry up."

Yoongi rolled the condom over Jungkook's length, giving it a couple pumps of his hand to make sure it was secure. Before he knew it, Yoongi's mouth was around him. Jungkook gasped at the sudden warmth that enveloped him, and couldn't contain his moans as Yoongi proceeded to give him the greatest blow job he'd ever experienced in his entire life.

In mere minutes he was already coming into the condom, filling it with his milky white goo. But Yoongi didn't stop there. He kept going, using his hands, fingers, his lips, his throat, and most importantly, his tongue, until Jungkook came yet again, overflowing the condom with his sticky cum.

He had never experienced pleasure as intense as that second orgasm. Yoongi was the first person to have ever left him completely speechless. His mind was completely blank, only thinking about how good it felt and how he couldn't move.

Yoongi still continued even after Jungkook came, until he was squirming and whining at the sensitivity.

"Yoongi!" He moaned. "Agh. Stop. That's enough."

Yoongi pulled back with a loud smack as Jungkook's cock left his mouth and flopped down into Jungkook's stomach.

"Did you like that?"

"Oh, fuck yeah," Jungkook answered, still trying to catch his breath. "I'm pretty sure that was the best blowjob I've ever gotten."

"Great, because that was the most fun one I've given." Yoongi smirked. "You came twice."

"I know. Shit. I didn't even know I could do that."

"That's the magic of the tongue technology."

"Oh my god, is that really what you call it?"

"Yep. Coined the term myself. I'm quite proud of it. 'Whether man or woman, I'll make you cum with my tongue technology'."

"Oh that's good. I like the sound of that."

Yoongi chortled. "Thanks."

Jungkook lay back and sighed while Yoongi reclined next to him.

"Let me know when you're ready again," Yoongi said. "I want you to fuck me hard in return for what I did for you."

"Oh, god. Give me a few minutes. I need to recover," Jungkook jested.

The two of them lay there for a while, staring at the white marble ceiling. All Jungkook could think about was how good Yoongi's tongue made him feel. Yoongi knew just how to use it, and it was no doubt he was experienced. He had a right to brag about his "tongue technology" because it was truly incredible.

Jungkook recalled the way Yoongi's tongue licked up and down his shaft, the way it expertly swirled around his tip. It was no surprise that soon he was hard again. He leaned over and ran his hand down Yoongi's chest until he reached his crotch. He grabbed Yoongi's still hard cock and stroked it, spreading the precum all over.

"I think I'm ready," Jungkook muttered.

Yoongi looked down at Jungkook's crotch. "Oh I definitely think you are."

Jungkook smirked and moved to straddle Yoongi. He ran his hand over the cum filled condom that hugged his cock. "I think I need a new one."

Yoongi pointed toward the nightstand. "That drawer over there. The lube is in there too."

Jungkook reached over, opening the drawer and pulling out a fresh new condom and a bottle of lube. He removed the old one, tied it, and tossed it aside to deal with later.

This cannot wait.

Jungkook put on the condom and slathered his length in lube, giving his cock a couple of pumps before lining himself up at Yoongi’s entrance.

“Ready?”

Yoongi nodded and Jungkook pushed himself in. Both of them moaned as Jungkook slowly slid in.

Jungkook fucked him fast and hard until Yoongi’s chest was coated with his glistening cum. Jungkook kept fucking him, trying to get himself off for the third time that night. He thrusted into Yoongi over and over, but it wasn’t enough. Jungkook leaned down and kissed Yoongi’s neck, sucking hard until purple patched began to form.

Maybe I could try…

Jungkook jutted his teeth out, biting into Yoongi’s skin softly, testing the waters. Yoongi moaned at the feeling, causing Jungkook to become more bold. He bit down harder this time, drawing the slightest bit of blood. He ran his tongue over the wound, and his mouth was coated with a salty, metallic taste, and Yoongi groaned loudly.

Jungkook pulled back. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, that feels good.”

Jungkook stopped thrusting and pulled out. “Wait here, I have an idea.” He leapt off the bed and over to the pile of his clothes on the floor, pulling out the knife from his pocket.

“Does this scare you?” Jungkook asked, holding out the knife and peering at Yoongi through his lashes.

“Not at all,” Yoongi smirked. “Josh, you seem to be into some kinky shit.”

Jungkook unsheathed the knife and returned to the bed. He re-entered Yoongi but stilled his hips. Yoongi gasped as Jungkook pressed the knife to his throat, feeling the cold metal against the delicate skin that housed all his most precious arteries.

“I won’t hurt you,” Jungkook reassured him. “Just tell me if you wanna stop, and I’ll stop.”

Yoongi nodded. “Go for it.”

The first slice was not very deep. Jungkook just barely breached the dermal layer, inciting the tiniest bit of blood to arise from Yoongi’s veins. He took two fingers and brushed them against the beads of crimson oozing from the cut. His lips curled as he inspected the blood smeared on his fingertips. Their eyes locked as Jungkook slowly brought the fingers up to his mouth, and sucked them clean.

His blood tasted pure and rich, like nectar of the gods. Like ambrosia.

That’s when something in him snapped. Jungkook stared at Yoongi, cocking his head to the side. Something about his expression darkened, and for a split second, Yoongi was scared. It was only for a split second because – he doesn’t know what came over him, but – Jungkook slashed the knife across Yoongi’s throat, cutting off his air supply, and allowing more of the divine nectar that Jungkook loved so much to spill from his veins.

Yoongi lay still as Jungkook began thrusting again, getting himself off to the sight of Yoongi’s blood spilling down his pale neck, onto the clean, white bedding.

Mmmmm.

Jungkook leaned over Yoongi’s lifeless body. He hovered right above his face, somewhat expecting to feel Yoongi’s breath against his nose, but there was nothing. Jungkook’s fingers parted Yoongi’s lips, and he leaned in for a kiss.

Still warm.

His tongue roamed Yoongi’s mouth, swirling the soft muscle around Yoongi’s, relishing his sweet taste. But there was something, some weird feeling, gnawing at the back of his brain. It was like a weird persistent buzzing that he couldn’t quite decipher. He thought that maybe it was just the alcohol messing with him.

Jungkook pulled back and focused on Yoongi’s open mouth.

Do it.

Without thinking, Jungkook brought the knife up to Yoongi’s lips. Jungkook’s fingers pried his jaw open wider, allowing him better access. Jungkook slowly placed the blade of the knife into his mouth and in one swift motion, sliced off Yoongi’s tongue.

The muscle fell to the back of Yoongi’s throat, and Jungkook fished it out with his long fingers. He held it up to his face, juggling it in his fingers.

Exquisite.

Jungkook played with Yoongi for a little while longer before finishing, completely overwhelmed with pleasure, coming so hard that it drained him of all his energy. He fell asleep next to Yoongi’s dead body and awoke the next morning covered in blood. He showered in Yoongi’s bathroom and put on his clothes. When he left, he took his used condoms with him. Of course he wasn’t stupid enough to leave them behind, he was a detective for god’s sake. He knew exactly how to avoid getting caught.

Jungkook placed his elbows on his desk, clasping his hands together in front of him, and sighed at the memory. His brows were furrowed and his lips pursed as he stared at the screen.

“What did I say, Jeon?” You called to him from your desk.

“Hm?” Jungkook peeked his head over the monitor so that he could see you.

“‘Don’t overwork yourself’,” you told him, quoting what you had said earlier.

Right then, Jin entered the precinct after trying to subdue his nausea in the bathroom. “Any updates from Hoseok and his crew?” He asked as he strode over to your desk. His skin had lost its usual color and glow, taking on a sick, slightly green tinge to it.

“Nope, nothing,” you answered him. “I don’t think there’s anything to report. There were no fingerprints, no DNA, nothing. He’s just as confused as we are.”

“Should we pay him a visit?”

“Would you be okay with that, Jin? You still look a bit pale.”

Jin straightened his posture and puffed out his chest. “I’m perfect! Totally fine! Let’s go!”

You and Jungkook stood from your desks. Before joining Jin, you waited for Jungkook to catch up to you so you could whisper, “Can you believe this guy is our boss?” You scoffed. “How is he head detective if he can’t even handle a crime scene.”

“You shouldn’t speak that way about our boss, Y/N. Especially at work,” Jungkook deadpanned.

Your eyes widened slightly. The coldness in his voice surprised you. His steely expression didn’t change as the two of you followed Jin to the morgue. You brushed it off as just being his stress talking, but something had been off about him all day.

Hoseok was running lint samples in the precinct’s materials database when the three detectives entered the morgue. On the cold metal table lay Jimin, completely exposed, causing a sour taste to creep up Jin’s throat.

You leaned over to him. “You alright there, detective?” You asked him.

He gave you a quick nod and nothing else.

“What do you got?” Jungkook asked Hoseok.

“I got nothing, man. The only fibers I found were cotton fibers from a white t-shirt, but that doesn’t help, because do you know how many white cotton t-shirts there are out there?!”

“Yeah, I have like 30 of them in my closet.”

“Exactly! And it could even be the victim’s for all we know! We took some samples from his clothes and he has at least three shirts that match this damn lint. ”

You raised an eyebrow. “So you can determine that this, the Ambrosia murder, and the Skyline murder were all done by the same person just from the way they made the cuts, but you can’t find any other evidence that could point us to an actual person?” You asked incredulously.

“I– uh, well. Yes,” Hoseok stammered nervously.

“Well, do we have a name? Anything to identify him?” Jin joined in.

“Mhm. That we do. His DNA matches that of a man named Park Jimin.”

You nodded. “Send us his identification number and we’ll do some digging.”

Jungkook stared at the body that lay before him, the sick, mutilated mess he’d created. Sober, he could barely stand the sight of it. It was revolting, horrifying, and utterly wrong. He found the psychology behind it quite intriguing, because the human brain just knows that that body part shouldn’t be missing, the flesh there shouldn’t be exposed, or there shouldn’t be so much blood outside of the body, and has the most extreme reaction to it. Some experience dizziness, nausea, or even fainting, because something in their brain is telling them this is not right.

But drunk, the pleasure he derives from this kind of mutilation outweighs it all. It outweighs the anxiety, uncertainty, disgust, and most importantly, the fear of getting caught. He can’t describe it. He’s never quite been able to replicate the intensity of this pleasure, this thrill, through anything else, especially not sober.

And that is precisely why Jeon Jungkook cannot stop. Not until he’s caught.

You and Jungkook were sitting at your desk, working on paperwork for a drug bust the three of you did last week, when Jin came around and plopped a manila folder stuffed with various papers in front of Jungkook.

“Park Jimin, born October 13th, 1995. Recently laid off from his job at an accounting firm,” Jin announced.

So that’s why he looked so down that night.

“A couple of months ago he broke up with his boyfriend, Kim Taehyung, but friends and family say it was a mutual decision and they split off amicably.”

“Did you check his alibi?” You asked him.

“No, I just took their word for it.” Jin rolled his eyes. “Of course I checked his alibi! What do you take me for?”

You gave Jungkook a knowing look and he snickered.

“Hey! What was that look, Y/N?” Jin waved his arm at you. “Are you forgetting I can fire you?”

“Sorry, sir,” you replied with a smile, not at all meaning it. You knew he was bluffing and would never actually do it.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Taehyung was at the vet with his dog last night after his dog got a bout of food poisoning. There’s no one else in his life that could be a potential enemy.”

“And you got all of that information in,” Jungkook looked at his watch, “just two hours?”

“There’s a reason I’m lead detective here, kids. Although some of you seem to forget sometimes.” He gave you a pointed look, to which you responded with a sarcastic smile.

“Okay,” you said, “but what do we do with this information? This doesn’t bring us any closer to catching the killer.”

Jin sighed. “That, Y/N, I don’t know. No one knows where he went last night. Taehyung said he asked but Jimin just told him he was going out.”

“What do we do?” Jungkook asked. “We can’t have three unsolved cases.”

I pray to God we have three unsolved cases. Please let these go cold.

The head detective frowned. “I don’t know, but we’re in deep shit if we don’t solve this soon. The public are going to think we’re incompetent if we can’t get any evidence that points to a culprit. Or even worse, they’re going to start panicking because there’s a serial killer on the loose.”

You spun your chair around to face Jin. “How can it be possible that we know absolutely nothing about this person?”

“I don’t know. They seem to be targeting random people in their early twenties. There’s no discrimination in gender it appears, so we can’t make inferences about the gender of the killer.”

You looked back at Jungkook. “It’s like they know exactly how not to get caught.”

The shift of your gaze and the tone of your remark made Jungkook squirm in his seat. He hoped it wasn’t noticeable, but lately it seemed that you were always able to see right through him. The longer you stared at him the more uneasy he felt.

Jin picked the folder back up and tucked it beneath his arm. “I’m gonna do some more digging and I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Sure, yeah,” you replied.

“Mhm,” Jungkook answered.

The rest of the week passed and there was little news from Hoseok. Jin was becoming frustrated because three unsolved murders made the precinct look bad. They were the only detective team in the City, and if they couldn’t solve crimes, then who could? You remained enigmatic as usual, but the uneasiness Jungkook felt around you came in waves, rarely even there, only sometimes flooding him when you looked at him a certain way or said something that made him think you suspected him. However, you never voiced your suspicions outright, which made him anxious. He felt it was only a matter of time before you connected the dots and accused him.

But there were no dots to connect. Hoseok said it himself. There’s no evidence to point toward a killer. Jungkook was safe. So why did he feel so restless?

Jungkook decided to give the drinking a break this weekend and instead spent Saturday night wandering around the shopping district in search of another way to satiate himself. He roamed the streets illuminated by the yellow tinge of the street lamps and neon signs that hung at the entrance of each of the shops. It was nearly midnight, but the streets were still bustling with students from the nearby university, out for a fun night on the town.

Dozens of carts lined the sidewalks, selling various street foods and pretty much every fried thing you could imagine. Jungkook made his way from cart to cart, ordering the most appealing item from each one, and eating it as he made his way to the next one.

After a while, he noticed someone following him. It was a woman, going from cart to cart just like he was, always a few steps behind. At first he thought it could have been you, making sure he didn’t get into any trouble, or making sure you caught him if he did. But once he got a better look at her face, he saw no familiarity in it. She was simply a stranger.

Feeling full of all this greasy and sugary food, Jungkook was feeling a little bold. When he finished his business at the fried shrimp cart, he stayed back, and waited for the stranger to catch up.

“Hi,” he greeted once she approached the cart.

“Hi,” she replied with a smile. “Whatcha got there?”

Jungkook held up his fried shrimp skewer. “Curry. They have a bunch of different seasoning choices, but I think I like curry the best.”

“You’ve tried all of them?”

“Mhm.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Just now?”

“What?” Jungkook shook his head. “No. No. I couldn’t possibly eat that much in one night.”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen you buy something from like seven other carts tonight, so what’s another load of fried shrimp to you?”

Jungkook chuckled. “I’m sure if I ate that much shrimp I’d explode.”

The woman let out a silvery laugh before turning to the cart owner to order. “I’ll have the curry one please.”

The two of them waited in silence until her order was ready. The woman took a bite, making a noise of approval and nodding her head. “You’re right, this is pretty good.”

Jungkook nodded and a silence followed. Wanting to break it, he asked, “So you’ve been following me, huh?”

The woman’s confidence suddenly disappeared as she shifted her gaze away from Jungkook and toward the crowd behind him. “Maybe... “ she replied meekly.

“Why?” He pressed further.

“I just thought you were attractive. And I wanted to look at you a little longer.”

Jungkook let out a sigh of relief, which he disguised with another laugh. “That’s it?”

“Yeah. What did you think? That I was stalking you to murder you or something?” she joked.

“That’s always a possibility.”

The woman giggled. “I’m Jiah, by the way,” she said, extending her hand for Jungkook to shake.

Jungkook took her hand into his firm grasp.

So small. So soft. So… Nice.

“I’m–” he paused, trying to come up with a name on the spot, “Jin.”

“You sure?” She asked, noticing his hesitation. “Just Jin?”

“Yeah. My full name is Seokjin, but I usually just go by Jin.” He grinned nervously.

“Well, Jin. What do you say we go to my place for some coffee to wash all this fried food down,” Jiah suggested.

Jungkook nodded. “Sure.”

Just regular sex, Jungkook. No drinking, no murder.

Jiah led him down the street and hailed a cab.

They skipped the coffee, and it turns out that Jungkook couldn’t keep his promise. About half an hour into a very heated makeout session in Jiah’s kitchen, Jungkook still couldn’t get into it.

“Are you nervous?” Jiah asked him. “This isn’t your first hookup is it?”

“No. To both of those questions,” Jungkook replied.

What’s wrong with me?

Jiah hopped off the counter and pulled a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the cupboard. “Here,” she offered him a glass filled with a golden brown liquid. “Why don’t you have a drink to relax yourself.”

“No,” Jungkook shook his head and pushed it away. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Come on, Jin, one little drink won’t hurt.”

But somehow that one little drink turned into a whole bottle finished between the two of them, and Jungkook was, without a doubt, drunk. Their kisses became sloppy, way too much tongue and completely driven by drunken lust. Jungkook’s hips were grinding into Jiah’s as she sat on the counter. He could feel himself getting hard as he rubbed himself against her. The alcohol incited his sexual urges, among others.

Quickly, the two of them shed their clothes, discarding them onto the floor. Jungkook pulled a condom out of his wallet – one that he kept there for emergencies, although it was quite old. He fumbled to put it on, with his vision distorted from all the alcohol.

After quite a bit of floundering, he finally got it on and was ready to go. He wrapped an arm around Jiah’s waist to pull himself closer and used his other hand to reach down and play with her folds. She moaned as Jungkook used his fingers to spread her arousal all over her labia and clit while he kissed her neck.

Jungkook slowly pushed a finger in and curled it, causing her to gasp. “Fuck, Jin.”

“You like that?”

Jiah nodded. “Yes! Fuck!”

He added another and began to pump his fingers slowly in and out, eliciting soft moans from Jiah’s lips. When he felt her tightening around him, he pulled them out, inspecting her juices that coated his fingers. He brought his fingers up to his face, about to put them in his mouth, before he stopped himself.

Instead, he held them up to Jiah. “Suck.”

She was surprised by his order and cautiously leaned forward to wrap her mouth around his glistening digits, using her tongue to lap up every last bit of herself on him.

“Taste good?”

Jiah nodded hesitantly.

“It’s too bad I won’t get to taste it for myself.”

“What do you–”

Her words were forcefully cut off by Jungkook plunging his cock into her entrance, sliding in easily, and causing her to cry out. He began thrusting quickly, in and out, chasing his own pleasure and not paying any mind to hers. He could feel the alcohol pumping through his veins, heating him up from the inside out. The kitchen was filled with the sounds of Jungkook’s slick cock moving in and out of Jiah’s dripping sex and the uncontrollable moans arising from both their throats. She held on to his shoulders as he roughly pushed his hips into her.

“Jin…” Jiah gasped. “Slow down. I’m gonna c–c–”

“Come?”

She let out another moan as she answered, “Yes.”

“Good.” Jungkook’s lips curled as he kissed her. “Come,” he whispered against her lips.

Soon he felt her walls convulsing around his length as she came.

He could hear her heart beating through her chest, and loud thumping that had only grown more intense as time progressed. It was like a siren call, enticing him, provoking him. He couldn’t control himself. Without realizing, pulled away from her, reaching over to the knife block and pulling out a knife.

“Jin, what are you–?”

He watched as his strong hands plunged it into her chest, piercing through her breastplate and puncturing her heart. Her face contorted in horror and she let out a strangled gasp before collapsing into Jungkook, his own chest becoming smothered in her blood.

He pushed he back and lay her against the counter, getting himself off as he leaned over her and twisted the knife around in her chest, carving into it the shape of a heart and then setting the knife down on the counter. He made a rather large hole, just big enough to pull her real heart out. He held the organ in his hand, no longer beating but still warm.

He juggled it in his fingers, squeezing it and watching the blood drip down his arms and onto the kitchen floor.

It’s soft… Nice… Just like her hand.

He set it down next to her on the counter and returned his focus to getting off, thrusting into her, using some of the blood to ease the friction. The sight of all her blood led to an orgasm so intense that he couldn't hold in his scream.

Shit. They just keep getting better and better.

After he came, he pulled out, his cock still slick with her juices and blood. A sticky string of her cum connected his tip to her entrance. Jungkook knelt down before her, his face mere inches away from her glistening slit. He pushed a finger in and then pulled it out, coated with her cum and blood. He put it in his mouth and sucked.

I guess I was wrong.

He stuck his tongue out and dragged it up her folds, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. Jungkook picked the knife back up, and gently used the tip to separate her lips. He could see her juices still leaking out. The tip of it became coated as it just barely grazed her entrance. Without hesitation, he shoved the knife into her, wiping his prints off of the handle and anywhere he touched on the counter. He washed the blood off of his hands, arms, and chest in the sink, put on his clothes, and then left.

The second Jungkook got outside, a sudden rush of cold air blew past him, sobering him up, and he was met with a pounding headache and the sudden realization of what he had done.

What the fuck, Jungkook? I said no drinking, no murder tonight.

He stumbled down the driveway and onto the sidewalk.

How the fuck do I get home from here?

He wasn’t even sure where he was. He had never been in the Parkside district before, and he didn’t notice any bus lines or train stops on the way here. It was much too far from his house to walk, and there most likely weren’t any cabs around at this hour. He looked around the street, studying the unfamiliar surroundings, suddenly feeling trapped.

That’s when he saw something across the street, lurking. It was barely visible, yet its presence was unmistakably there.

Is someone watching me? Do they know what I just did?

That figure approached him. It wore all black, attempting to blend in with the night. But even in the pitch black darkness, he recognized what, or more specifically, who it was.

Jungkook took a step forward. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” You whispered back, stepping toward him. “I followed you and I’m here to help you.”

“What? But why?”

“Shhh. Would you keep it down?” You gave him a confused look before realizing. “You don’t remember do you?”

“Remember what?”

You paused and studied his face to see if he was bluffing. “Who do you think drove you home after you killed Jimin?”

“I– uh what? I didn’t kill Jimin.” Jungkook shifted his gaze away, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Don’t lie, Jungkook. I know you did,” you stated sternly. “Now answer my question.”

“I–I drove myself home. I woke up in some woman’s bed in the middle of the night and drove myself home.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Jungkook, who do you think that woman was?”

No. What? It couldn’t have been.

“You?!”

“Ding ding ding, genius.”

How had I not recognized her?

“How…?”

“You know that Jimin’s house is just a few blocks from my house, right? On my way home, I saw you stumbling out piss drunk and completely covered in blood. I drove you back to your house and helped you clean up. And then for some reason, you wanted to go back to my place and you insisted on driving. I tried to talk you out of it but you refused so I had to sit in the passenger seat, holding on to the little handle thing for dear life, as you barreled down the streets at 2am and skidded into my lawn. It was stupid as hell of me to let you do that but thankfully there aren’t that many cars on the streets at that hour.”

Jungkook’s brows knitted in confusion. “That… makes no sense.”

“What the hell do you mean it makes no sense?”

“If we drove my car back to your place, wouldn’t your car be at my house? I didn’t see it when I got back there.”

“That’s because there’s never any parking on your street, you dumbass. So I had to park down the block and walk you to your house, trying to conceal the bloody freakshow from the neighbors. Then I took the bus to your place and picked my car up in the morning.”

Jungkook gaped at you, having trouble comprehending what he was hearing. “Why did you help me? Why didn’t you just turn me in?”

“Because you’re my friend. And you’re a decent detective; I can’t have them locking you up. You expect me and Jin to do all the crime solving when you’re gone? Have you met Jin?” You paused and then added. “Also no one ever suspects the detective, so what do I have to lose?”

He scoffed. “You’re fucking crazy.”

Your lips curled into a smile. “Maybe so.”

Jungkook let out a defeated sigh. “So, did you drive here? Where’s your car? How do you plan on rescuing me this time?”

Your face twisted in annoyance. Here you were, doing him a favor and he was getting crabby with you. “It’s over there.” You turned around and silently led him across the street to you car.

Once in the car, you started the engine and drove. It wasn’t until you entered the freeway that cut across the City that you broke the silence.

“So why do you do it?”

“Huh?” Jungkook was caught off guard by your question. “I don’t know. It just feels… nice. Seeing all that blood, feeling it against my skin, it just… I don’t know. Sex just doesn’t feel as good when there isn’t blood involved.”

“Ouch, that hurts,” you reply flatly.

“What…?” Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Did– Did we…?!”

“You don’t remember? Double ouch.”

“Fuck, I guess I should have known. Considering when I woke up, neither of us had clothes on.”

“You know, for someone so smart, you can be really dumb sometimes.”

Jungkook stared out the window as you drove. “So I didn’t try to murder you?”

“Nope. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“But why?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know what goes on in that brain of yours.” You grimaced.

“Shit, I wish I knew, too…” He trailed off and paused before speaking again. “I used to be able to do it, you know. I used to be able to sleep with someone, even drunk, without wanting to kill them. But lately it had become increasingly difficult to refrain from murder.” He sighed and contemplated it. “Maybe it was because you felt just as good.”

“Jeon,” you warned.

“What?”

“Don’t.” His sentiment was so cliched it made your skin crawl.

You rode in silence the rest of the way. Soon you were pulling up in front of Jungkook’s house. All the lights on the block were off, which meant his neighbors were asleep. Jungkook got out and turned toward you.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“Yeah whatever,” you replied, anxious to get rid of him.

“We need to talk about this sometime, though.”

“Sure we do.” He swore he could detect a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

Jungkook’s frowned at your stubbornness. “Anyway, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, murderer,” you called after him as he closed the car door and walked up his driveway.

You didn't bother waiting for him to open his front door before driving away.

Jungkook was awakened a mere four hours later by his phone ringing.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Wake up, Jeon.” It was Jin.

“Why?” Jungkook groaned.

“There's been another murder. Why else would I be calling you?”

Jungkook rolled over and sat up. “What time is it?”

“A little bit before 5am.”

Jungkook groaned again. “Text me the address. I'll be there soon.”

A few seconds after hanging up, Jungkook received a text message from Jin. He opened it, revealing an address in the Parkside district.

God damn it.

Not long after, he received another ping! It was a message from you.

Y/N: It's yours.

Jungkook flopped back onto his pillows and sighed, using his hands to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed out loud, punching the air.

What the hell were you expecting, Jungkook? They going to find the body eventually.

“Shut up,” he said to himself.

Jungkook then got up and got dressed before leaving for the crime scene.

When he got to the scene, Jiah was just how he had left her. Her heart on the counter, blood spilling out of her chest and from in between her legs. Some of it had dripped onto the floor, in a now-dried puddle.

You walked in with your hand over your mouth, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Jungkook greeted you with a sarcastic grin. “Late night?”

You shot him a warning look.

A couple of seconds later Jin walked in with three large cups of coffee. “Morning,” he greeted and held the tray forward. Each of you took one, chugging the hot liquid energy down your throats.

You and Jungkook looked at Jin, expecting him to explain.

“Well?” You said, after Jin remained silent.

“There’s been another murder,” he said.

“I can see that,” you replied.

“Her name is Jeon Jiah. Twenty four years of age, worked at the bank on Union street. Hoseok said cause of death was, well,” Jin pointed to the space between Jiah legs, “someone driving that kitchen knife into her chest.”

You grimaced at the sight, letting Jungkook know just how disgusted you were.

“Has he found anything else?” Jungkook asked.

“The knife appears to be her own, since there’s one missing from the knife block that looks about the same size as the one the killer used on her. Other than that, there’s not much else. But let’s look around, see if we can find prints or anything,” Jin suggested.

You and Jungkook nodded, although Jungkook knew that you wouldn’t find anything. He wiped the place clean before he left. He was thorough, and never left anything behind.

After an hour of searching the house and coming up empty, Hoseok had the body packed up and delivered to the lab. You snapped some photos of the crime scene, and Jungkook pretended like he was helping.

“I’ll meet you two back at the station,” Jin said. “I called Park Jimin’s ex-boyfriend in for questioning, and he’ll be there at nine.”

You and Jungkook nodded. After Jin, Hoseok, and the rest of the crew left, you pulled something out of your pocket and handed it to Jungkook.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“I found it by the sink. I think it’s yours. I thought you might want it.”

Jungkook took the small strand of hair between his fingers. His eyes grew wide as he studied it, because it did, indeed, look a lot like his.

“I swear I cleaned up after myself,” Jungkook whispered.

“Then what is that?”

Jungkook frowned. “Thanks,” was all he said to you before walking back to his car.

Taehyung fidgeted in the plastic chair in the interrogation room. He tried to calm himself down, knowing that his nerves would make him look guilty. He had no reason to be nervous. He didn’t do anything. But just this whole situation was incredibly nerve wracking. He had never been in a police station before and honestly never thought he would be, especially not as a murder suspect.

Whenever he shook his leg, the cheap plastic chair – seemingly salvaged from an old high school – creaked incessantly, so he stopped himself. Instead, he scratched at the patch of hair behind his ear, another nervous habit of his. It was all he could do to prevent him from actually ripping his hair out.

Sometimes he would still wake up in the middle of the night, expecting Jimin to be next to him. It had been more than a week, but Taehyung still couldn’t process the fact that he was gone. He read the report that Jin had shown him. It made him sick that someone would want to do that to Jimin. He regretted breaking up with Jimin, and it was a stupid decision on both their parts. Taehyung couldn’t help but think that maybe he would still be alive if they were still together.

Taehyung’s thoughts were interrupted as you, Jin, and Jungkook walked into the interrogation room.

“Good morning, Taehyung,” Jin greeted.

Taehyung simply nodded and avoided eye contact.

“We called you in here to ask you some questions about Jimin.”

Again, Taehyung nodded and stared at the empty table in front of him. “Ask away.”

Jin glanced at Jungkook briefly and turned back to Taehyung.. “Did Jimin have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt him?”

“No. Everyone loved Jimin.” Taehyung looked up at the detectives. “I thought this was the work of a serial killer. Why are you asking me about that?”

“We’re just trying to think of every possible scenario,” you assured him.

“Well, then no. He didn’t have any enemies. Like I said, everyone loved him.”

“Was he seeing anybody knew?” Jungkook asked.

“Not that I know of, and I’m pretty sure he would have told me if he was.”

“So you two remained close even after your breakup?”

“Yeah, we were still friends. I like to think that he still loved me, since I still loved him.”

Jungkook frowned. “If you still loved each other, why did you break up?”

And why did he sleep with me?

“We didn’t really have time to see each other. Jimin was always working, and I’m still in grad school, so our schedules never really worked out.”

“Jimin had been laid off from his job recently, right? Wouldn’t that allow you more time together?” You asked.

“I guess we were both too scared to ask the other if he wanted to get back together. So, we just kind of left it and remained friends.”

“Was there anywhere that Jimin frequented? Anywhere he liked to hang out, either with friends or alone?”

Taehyung furrowed his brows, thinking. “Uhhh. We used to go to that new club over in the Seaside district. What was it called…?” Taehyung looked up at the ceiling, trying to recall. “Ah! LightRoom. We used to go there for some drinks and dancing, even after we broke up. But I don’t think he’s ever gone alone.”

Was that the place I met Jimin?

Jungkook couldn’t remember the name of it, but it seemed right.

“LightRoom. Okay, we’ll look into it. I think that’s enough info for now,” Jin declared. “Thank you, Taehyung. Oh, and one last thing. May we take a DNA sample from you just in case we find something and need to rule you out?”

Taehyung opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it, choosing to nod instead.

Jin went out to get a DNA kit and swabbed the inside of Taehyung’s cheek.

When he was done, he said, “Taehyung, we’ll call you if we have further questions.”

Taehyung nodded and let himself out.

“Jungkook, Y/N, I want you to head over to LightRoom and ask the staff if they remember seeing Jimin that night, and if they remember if he was with anyone.”

“Yes, Jin,” you replied.

“We’ll take my car,” Jungkook stated.

“Sure, whatever.” You then followed him out of the room with a frown.

Once in the car, Jungkook started driving in the direction opposite of the Seaside district.

“So where are we really going?” You asked him.

“Back to my place for a fucking nap. We only got like what? Three or four hours of sleep last night?”

“I actually didn’t sleep,” you admitted.

He turned his head toward you. “What? Why?”

You shrugged. “Wasn’t feeling it. Eyes on the road,” you told him.

He returned his attention to the road. “What do you mean by it?”

“Sleepy. Wasn’t feeling sleepy.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I’m gonna nap. You can do whatever you want. Just don’t fuck up my house.”

“No promises.”

Back at his house, Jungkook went straight to his room, closing the door behind him and flopping down on his bed. You wandered around his home, studying, observing. You had never been in his home before. As a matter of fact, you knew very little about his private life. But then again, it didn’t seem like he had much of a private life. His house was quite small and  free of decoration, aside from a couple of books, tv, gaming system, and a framed picture of what you assumed was a teenage Jungkook posing with his mother. Other than those few possessions, the place seemed quite impersonal. The walls were white, the shelves were white. His couch was a basic gray tweed sofa, with enough space for three people. He had a glass coffee table which looked like every other glass coffee table in existence.

You made your way into the kitchen rifling through his cupboards and cabinets, not finding much. A couple of bowls, some instant ramen, ground coffee. His fridge was empty aside from a half empty carton of eggs and some expired orange juice. He had a microwave, toaster, blender, and coffee maker, but the coffee maker seemed to be the only one he regularly used among the appliances.

You decided to make yourself a cup of coffee. You searched the kitchen for a mug, opening and closing the cupboard doors, only to find a few still in the dishwasher, unwashed. You sighed and loaded the dishwasher with detergent and turned it on.

All your commotion was making it difficult for Jungkook to fall asleep. After about 10 minutes of you banging around in his kitchen, he grew frustrated and got up, ready to march over to you and tell you to pipe the fuck down.

“Do you mi– What are you doing?” He asked, seeing you climbing on the counter to reach a bag of ground coffee on the top shelf of one of his cabinets. Darn you for being this short.

“I’m trying to make coffee. It’s the only thing that’s keeping me going right now.”

“Why don’t you just take a nap like I’m trying to.”

“Can’t. Too wired. You know that feeling where you’re too tired to fall asleep? Yeah, that’s me right now.” You finally got a hold of the bag and climbed off the counter.

“That’s bullshit,” Jungkook scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. Then his demeanor softened. “Come on. Come nap, relax. You can take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“I don’t think I could possibly relax right now,” you told him, fiddling with the coffee maker.

“Maybe I can help.” Jungkook smirked.

You turned around to face him and raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“What took you two so long?” Jin asked when you and Jungkook returned to the precinct.

You glanced at each other.

“We came up with nothing at the club,” you lied. “None of the workers recognized the photo we had of Jimin. There were some regulars there, so we asked them a few questions, see if they knew anything.”

“So did they?”

“No,” Jungkook answered. “But one of them wouldn’t stop talking. She wouldn’t shut up about how it’s so unsafe to go out these days and that people are getting murdered left and right and it doesn’t seem like the police are – ow!” you elbowed Jungkook to get him to stop talking “– really doing anything,” he finished quickly.

Jin raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Okay… Well, Hoseok wants to see us in the lab now, so we should head on down there.”

“Okay.” Jungkook nodded, relieved at the change in subject.

You and Jungkook then followed Jin downstairs to the lab.

“Hey, Hoseok,” you greeted him when the three of you entered the lab.

“Hey, Y/N, and Jungkook and Jin.” He was standing next to Jiah’s body, which lay on the metal work table covered by a white sheet.

“So what do you got for us?” Jin asked.

“Well, as you may know, this victim was killed with her own knife. As for the other three murders, the weapon was not found at the scene. However, the cuts are the same. Careful and precise. And this case in particular shows quite a resemblance to the Skyline murder. The heart shape that the killer carved into Jiah’s chest was done in the same way the wings were carved into Hyojin’s back. I think our little serial killer has struck again.”

“Okay, but is there anything useful?” Jungkook asked rather rudely.

Hoseok frowned at his tone. “There’s something I found that I still need to double check, but I just thought I’d update you before the day was through.”

“Thank you, Hoseok. Keep up the good work.” You smiled at him, which he returned.

The three of you turned to leave before Hoseok called out, “Jin? There’s something I need to talk to you about. If you could stay for just a moment longer?”

Jin looked at Hoseok questioningly and nodded. “You two can go back upstairs,” he said to you and Jungkook.

The two of you left, leaving Jin and Hoseok alone in the lab.

“So where’s your crew?” Jin asked him, noticing that the lab, usually bustling with all of his assistants running around, was now quiet and empty.

“I sent them on a break. A few of them were getting frustrated because we weren’t finding anything.”

“Ah.”

Hoseok stepped around the table to stand in front of Jin. “You’re probably wondering why I asked you to stay behind.”

“That did cross my mind, yes,” Jin chuckled.

Hoseok frowned. “We found traces of semen in the victim.”

Jin’s eyebrow quirked up. “Semen?”

“Yes.” Hoseok let out a sigh.

“Why do you look disappointed? Isn’t that a good thing? It means we have a suspect.”

“Yes, but…” Hoseok looked down at the his shoes, not knowing how to break the bad news to Jin.

Jin’s brows furrowed. “But what?”

“We ran the sample against the DNA in our system…”

“And…?”

“We might have to run it again just to be sure, because this system is old…”

Jin was getting fed up with Hoseok’s beating around the bush. “Hoseok, just say it.”

Hoseok looked up and made eye contact with Jin. “You’re not gonna like this.”

Jin strode down the hallway that led from the the elevators to the main room of the precinct.

“Jeon Jungkook!” he called out. “Jeon Jungkook, where the fuck are you?!”

Jungkook was over by the kitchenette, making himself his third cup of coffee of the day, when he saw Jin barreling towards him.

Shit.

Before Jungkook could brace himself for impact, Jin had a hand against his throat and pushed him against the wall.

“Jeon Jungkook,” he said in what Jungkook could only describe as a growl. “I swear to god…”

Jungkook gulped. Some of the officers in the precinct turned to see what the commotion was. All of their eyes on Jungkook made him immensely uncomfortable.

Fuck. He knows it was me. How could he know it was me?

“Hoseok is going to double check the semen sample he found inside of Jiah, but if it turns out it does belong to you I will fuck you up far worse than you did any of those poor victims.”

Shit. Semen? But I used a condom. I was so careful…

“I–I–uhh.” Jungkook didn’t know what to say. Should he confess right here? It was hard to breathe let alone speak with Jin’s hand still wrapped around his throat, pinning him against the wall. The room began to spin and he felt light headed as his brain tried to come up with a suitable reaction.

Seeing the fear in Jungkook’s eyes and noticing his inability to breathe, Jin huffed and lifted his hand off Jungkook’s windpipe. Jungkook took in a sharp gasp of air.

After regaining his composure, Jin spoke again. “Until we have definitive results from Hoseok, I think you should take a leave of absence.”

“Jin,” Jungkook started, but he didn’t know how to follow up. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to him. Should he deny? Confess? Accept? What?

Jin sighed. “Just go. Sorry for causing a scene. I’ll call you if there’s anything new. But until further notice, I’m taking you off this case.”

You stood back, watching all of this unfold. It infuriated you, seeing Jungkook just stand there, not saying anything. “Jin,” you asserted, stepping forward. “You said it yourself that Hoseok still has to double check that it actually was Jungkook. You didn’t even let him defend himself. And now you’re sending him home? Like he actually did commit all those murders? What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“Y/N, Hoseok said–”

“Look, I don’t know what Hoseok said, but I know what the law says and you can’t send him home over something that has not been proven.”

Jin gaped at you. He knew you were right. This was just the first piece of evidence they had found on any of the victims that pointed toward a culprit and he didn’t care just how absurd and improbable it sounded, because it was something. He finally had someone to blame, even if it seemed improbable.

“Fine, Jeon,” Jin resigned. “You can stay. But if Hoseok is right about the sample and about you, I will show no mercy.”

“I understand, sir,” Jungkook replied weakly.

Once Jin walked away and the other officers returned to their work, you stepped toward Jungkook and pulled him into an interrogation room so no one would hear you. “I’ll cover for you,” you told him. “I’ll be your alibi for that night, and all the other nights if you need it.”

“What?!” Jungkook exclaimed, stepping out of your grasp.

“I can go downstairs and distract Hoseok while you sneak into the lab and alter the data.”

“Y/N…”

“What?”

“Are you fucking crazy?” He blurted out.

You crossed your arms. “Well, how else do you expect to get out of this?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Prison?”

“Hell no. I won’t let you.”

“But if you lie for me, and they find out, it’s not just me going to jail. You will too for aiding and abetting.”

“Maybe so, but we go together or we don’t go down at all”

“Why would you help me? Y/N, do you like me or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What is this? High school? ‘Do you like me or something?’” You mocked. “You think because I’m trying to do something for you, there are feelings behind it? I’m doing this for me, for my benefit, and for the benefit of the City, because we both know this precinct will go to shit if you were found guilty. I would be out of a job and the whole city will be left defenseless.”

Jungkook frowned. “Now you're just being dramatic.”

“Really? Let’s play it out in your head, Jungkook. Let’s say one day you fuck up. You leave behind something that points toward you. Oh look! That day is today! You’re questioned, you get sent to trial, you’re found guilty, you go to prison for the rest of your life. What happens to us? Well first, the media will attack us, asking us how we could let one of our own get away with four whole murders before he was caught. Then they’d speculate. Were we in on it? Were we working with you? We’d have to go on trial, too. Even if we’re not found guilty, there will always be those people who think we are. People who think we lied and used our status to get out of indictment.”

Jungkook was about to say something but you didn’t let him.

“Jungkook, there’s a reason why there are only three detectives in the City. No one wants to see the shit that we see. And no one’s gonna want to step up to fill your place. And we both know that Jin is incompetent.”

Jungkook opened his mouth to protest, but again you stopped him.

“The guy nearly vomits at a crime scene! Like what kind of detective does that? It doesn’t matter how gruesome it is, we have to be able to handle it. And then that just leaves me. You think I can do everything on my own? Actually, honestly maybe I can. But do I want to? Hell no.” You take in a deep breath to calm yourself, which Jungkook feels is the first breath you’ve taken since you started ranting. “Anyway,” you continue, “now do you see? Now do you understand why I’m doing this?” You sighed. “How could you even let this happen?” You asked. “First the hair and now this?”

Jungkook was getting frustrated at all your attacks. “I–I don’t know!” He stuttered. “I wasn’t expecting it to happen last night. I didn’t even know I was going to be having sex so all I had was the emergency condom I keep in my wallet.”

“Are you stupid? You know condoms expire! And keeping them in your wallet can cause them to tear!”

“It wasn’t that old! Plus I told myself that it was just going to be a regular hookup! No drinking, no murder!”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “And how well did that plan go, hm?”

“I–I–”

You groaned. “Maybe you deserve to be locked up.”

“Hey! I made it this far without getting caught. Don’t you think that’s something?” Jungkook pulled a tissue out of his pocket and unfolded it. Inside lay a strand of hair. “I did manage to get this for a little insurance,” he said, picking it up off the tissue and showing it to you.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Taehyung left it behind,” he explained.

You nodded your head in understanding. “So are we going to do this, or what?”

After your whole speech, Jungkook felt like he really didn’t have a choice. He sighed in resignation and led you out of the interrogation room.

You stepped out of the elevator and into the lab having unbuttoned the top three buttons of your work shirt. You took your hair out of its ponytail and gave it a zhoosh before walking over to Hoseok.

“Hey, Hobi,” you smiled at him flirtatiously. “Can I ask you a favor?” You looked around to see if his assistants were around, but it appeared that they were still out.

“Hey, Y/N. Sure, what’s up?” He asked with a warm smile, stepping away from his computer toward you.

“May I see Jimin’s body? There are some things I need for the report.”

“I already emailed you all my data on Jimin.”

“I know but, I just want to double check.”

“Oh, okay, sure.”

Hoseok led you away from the lab and into the morgue. He grasped the metal handle to one of the metal drawers on the wall and pulled, revealing Jimin inside. He removed the sheet that covered Jimin’s body and stepped aside, allowing you to look at whatever you needed.  He started to turn around to go back to the lab, and in the second that he faced away, you dropped the strand of Taehyung’s hair into Jimin’s gaping wound. As Hoseok stepped toward the door, you stopped him.

“Wait, what’s this?” You leaned closer, pretending to get a better look.

Hoseok approached the body. “What?”

“Can you hand me the tweezers over there?” You pointed toward the tray on the far side of the morgue away from the door.

Hoseok went to fetch it and brought it to you. You used them to pluck the hair off of the body.

“It’s a hair,” you stated.

“Wh– How did I miss that?” Hoseok stared at it incredulously.

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Give it to me and I’ll run it in the system,” Hoseok told you.

As you were handing Hoseok the strand of hair, you fumbled, dropping it and the tweezers onto the floor to buy you some time.

“Oh my god! Clumsy me!” You exclaimed.

“Y/N, are you okay? You seem a bit... off right now.”

“Yeah! Totally fine! Haven’t slept in over 48 hours but I’m totally fine!” You laughed.

“Oh. Oh my, Y/N. Hopefully, with the evidence that I’m still waiting on, we can wrap up this case soon and you can get some rest.”

“Please. I want nothing more.”

Hoseok smiled and nodded at you before turning toward the door.

“Wait!” You called out to him again. “Maybe… when this case is done…” You draw out your sentence, hoping to stall him for longer. “Maybe you and I could go out for a drink? Just the two of us?” You smiled at him hopefully.

“I would love to, Y/N, but I’m married,” Hoseok replied.

“Oh.” You frowned. “I never see you wear a ring,” you pointed out.

“I never wear it to work,” he explained. “I can’t be accidentally losing it inside a body or something like that.”

You chuckled. “Oh, that’s true. Never mind, then. Forget I asked.”

“I mean we could still go as friends. But from the way you asked me, I felt you wanted it to be more.”

“You’re right. But that’s fine. Anyway, I should head back to work.” You gave him a smile before leaving, hoping you gave Jungkook enough time to do whatever he needed to do.

Jungkook waited about five minutes after you left to head down to the lab. Relief washed over him when he stepped out of the elevator to find that the lab was empty of all personnel. He headed straight for Hoseok’s computer, searching to see if the results from his semen sample came back yet. Thankfully Hoseok was so distracted by your presence that he left his computer unlocked. The program was at 92% completion at that time, and Jungkook hoped it finished before you and Hoseok returned from the morgue. He waited, watching the loading bar inch closer to 100% at an agonizing pace. He stared at it intently, willing it to hurry up.

He was broken from his focus by a loud clang, which caused him to jump. “Oh my god! Clumsy me!” He heard you exclaim from the other room. He tongued his cheek and cocked his head to the side.

Y/N, you need to chill. You’re overdoing it just a bit.

He stared back at the monitor. 96%.

Come on, come on.

97%...

98%...

99%...

100%!

Fuck, finally.

MATCH FOUND: JEON JUNGKOOK, 1997/09/01, CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT

Jungkook quickly deleted the data and entered his own.

ERROR: NO MATCH FOUND

When he was done, Jungkook bolted out of there, not wanting to risk getting caught when Hoseok returned.

Taehyung sat again in that same plastic chair in the same interrogation room, feeling every bit as anxious as yesterday. He had no idea why he was called in again. He hoped it was because they found new information on Jimin’s killer, but the way Jin spoke to him on the phone, it sounded like he was in trouble.

He couldn’t stop his leg from shaking, which resulted in the chair’s incessant creaking that drove him crazy, only adding onto his nerves. The minutes seemed like days as he waited for someone to come in and tell him what was going on.

However, he was completely caught off guard when Jin entered the room, startling him and causing him to nearly fly out of his seat.

“Good morning, Taehyung,” Jin said, although the deadpan in his voice suggested that it most certainly was not a good morning.

“Hi, why am I here?” Taehyung blurted out, wanting to cut to the chase.

“We are here because we found some evidence that could lead to a suspect,” Jin explained.

Taehyung let out a sigh, relieved that the police were one step closer to finding Jimin’s killer.

“Well, do you have a suspect? Who is it?” Taehyung inquired. He stared at his hands which lay in front of him on the table.

“It’s you.”

His heart stopped. “Me?!?” His eyes shot up, looking at Jin for the first time after refusing to make eye contact up until now.

“Yes, you. After a closer examination of Jimin’s body, we found a hair on it that belongs to you.” Jin pulled out the chair and sat down across the table from Taehyung, facing him. “Can you explain to me how your hair got on the victim?”

The victim. Jin said it like he wasn’t even a real person, like Jimin was a thing, an object.

“Please don’t talk about him like that,” Taehyung mumbled.

“Huh?”

“His name was– is– Jimin. Please call him that.”

“Alright. Can you explain to me how your hair got onto Jimin,” Jin corrected.

“I can’t.” Taehyung grimaced. “I already told you, I was at the vet taking care of my dog that night. At that point I hadn’t seen Jimin in a few days, since I thought he would need some space to cope with getting laid off. I don’t know how my hair would have gotten onto him.”

“I see,” Jin said, contemplating.

“Honestly, I find it offensive that you think I would do such a thing to Jimin. What kind of sick person would want to hurt him like that? I just don’t understand what would drive someone to do something like that.”

“I understand, Taehyung. That’s what we’re trying to figure out ourselves. Your alibi checks out, but we just don’t see how your hair could have ended up on the victi– I mean– Jimin. It makes no sense unless someone planted it, but that would mean it had to be someone… within… the precinct.” Taehyung noticed Jin’s faraway expression as Jin remembered what Hoseok told him yesterday about the semen sample possibly being Jungkook’s.

“What is it?” Taehyung asked.

Jin shook his head dismissively. “Nothing.” He then pushed back his chair and stood up. “Thank you for coming down here on such short notice. I apologize for you having to come all the way down here for such a brief meeting.”

“It’s okay. Anything to help find out what happened to Jimin.”

Jin nodded. “We’ll be in touch if anything new arises. Again, I apologize.”

He then walked out without another word, and Taehyung was left confused by his sudden departure. What did he say? Something about someone within the precinct?

“Hoseok!” Jin called out as he exited the elevator. “Hoseok, are you here?” He surveyed the lab to find Hoseok behind a shelf of case files.

Hoseok made his way over to Jin. “Good morning,” he greeted with his usual warm smile.

“The results. Of the semen sample. Have you gotten them back yet?”

Hoseok sighed. “Yes.”

“And?”

“Unfortunately, there was no match found.”

“What?!”

“The DNA didn’t match anyone in our system,” Hoseok explained. “And we have nearly all of the City’s data in there, so it must be someone who isn’t from here.”

“So are you saying that Jiah was not a victim of the serial killer?”

“I didn’t say that. I still think she is. What I’m saying is that the serial killer most likely does not live in the City.”

Jin clenched his fist. “That makes no sense! Why would someone travel all the way here to kill people? Why can’t they go plague their own city? Why do they have to tarnish my beloved town?”

“I don’t know, Jin,” Hoseok replied, disappointed that he couldn’t give Jin an answer.

“So for sure it doesn’t match Jungkook?”

“The DNA does not match Jungkook’s,” he reiterated.

“Are there security cameras down here?” Jin asked, seemingly changing the subject abruptly.

“No, it wasn’t in the City’s budget, so there aren’t any cameras below the main floor. Why do you ask?”

“Do you think someone could have tampered with the evidence?”

“What, you think Jungkook…?”

“Yes.”

“No. I’ve been here all day, everyday since the Ambrosia murder, and I lock everything securely at night. Only I have the key to this place, so it’s not possible for anyone to get down here without my knowledge.”

“But this doesn’t make sense!” Jin exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “You’ve always been very thorough with your autopsies. There’s no way you could have missed Taehyung’s hair. Someone must have planted it!”

“Well, Y/N was the one who found it. Do you think it was her?”

“Hoseok, do you think she is capable of producing semen.”

“Good point.”

Just then, a rookie police officer stepped out of the elevator. “Jin, we need you upstairs immediately.”

“What is it?”

“Someone confessed to the serial killings.”

Jin and Hoseok’s eyes widened.

“What?!”

“He’s in the interrogation room right now.”

Jin stared at the man in front of him, still shocked that, after months of dead ends and zero leads, someone was actually confessing.

“So… You killed Min Yoongi, Kang Hyojin, Park Jimin, and Jeon Jiah?”

The man leaned back in his chair. “Yup,” he answered with irritating nonchalance. “It was me. The one, the only, Kim Namjoon.”

“Okay, but why?” Jin asked, still confused. He was so sure it was Jungkook, yet here this man was, confessing to every single one of the murders, even with no evidence pointing toward him.

“It’s fun. I enjoy it. Seeing all the blood gush from their veins as the life leaves their bodies. It’s beautiful, almost romantic.”

The way he said it made Jin’s skin crawl.

You scoffed, seeing right through Namjoon’s lie. “So that’s it? Are we really going to just accept that?” You asked.

“Y/N, it’s a confession. There’s not much we can do about it, especially when there’s no evidence that points toward a real suspect.”

When Jin said that last part, his eyes flicked over to where Jungkook silently stood in the corner, seemingly staring into his soul.

Jungkook squirmed under the weight of his gaze.

I know he knows it was me. But he can’t prove it was me.

You roll your eyes. “Fine then, let’s get out of here and fill out all the paperwork we need for his arrest.”

Jin nodded and followed you out of the interrogation room. Jungkook remained behind.

He walked over the the table and circled it, studying Namjoon. “Why did you do it?” Jungkook asked him.

“I already explained why. I enjoy it.”

“No, I mean, why did you lie? You and I both know you didn’t kill them. So why say you did?”

“Why, for the fame of course. This serial killer is the talk of the country if you haven’t noticed. And I crave attention.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“So what if it is?” Namjoon narrowed his eyes. “How are you so sure I didn’t do it?”

Jungkook shot him a warning look.

“Nooo,” Namjoon breathed. “You? The detective? The City’s most praised detective is this country’s most notorious serial killer? Well I’ll be damned.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but you do. I can see it in your eyes, Detective Jeon. I can see the hunger, the bloodlust behind those dark irises. You’re not fooling me, Jeon. Hell, I’m surprised you’re fooling anyone. Seriously, no one else knows?”

Jungkook glanced out the glass paneled door to where you stood, talking about something with Jin.

“No, her? She knows?” A sinister grin spread across his lips. “You’re not fucking her are you?”

Jungkook shifted on his feet, which Namjoon noticed.

“You are! And you haven’t tried to kill her yet? That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Kookie. It’s only a matter of time before you lose control. Such a sad, twisted love story.”

“It’s not a love story. We don’t love each other,” Jungkook corrected.

“Why would she lie for you, then? If not for love.”

“For ourselves.”

“Ah yes, yourselves. Humans are selfish creatures. That would only make sense.” Namjoon sneered.

Just then, through the glass in the door, Jungkook and Namjoon saw six police officers enter the precinct in uniform, here to haul Namjoon away.

“It looks like my time with you is up.” Namjoon feigned disappointment in his voice. “Maybe I’ll see you again soon. Have fun with your game, Jungkook.”

At that moment, the six officers stormed into the interrogation room, placing Namjoon in handcuffs and whisking him away.

Weeks passed and Namjoon underwent trial and indictment. The judge sentenced him to life in prison, which Namjoon seemed happy about. He held his head high and smiled proudly for the news reporters as he exited the courthouse, being escorted in handcuffs to an armored vehicle which would take him to his new permanent home.

Jungkook felt like he could finally breathe. With someone else behind bars, he felt like the suspicion was no longer on him, aside from the occasional sidelong glances from Jin that suggested he still thought Jungkook was guilty.

However, even with Namjoon behind bars, and even when Jungkook decided that he would take a break from the murders for a while, Jin still couldn’t let it go. Something in the back of his mind was still telling him that Jungkook was guilty. Sure, there hasn’t been a murder since Namjoon was locked up, but something still didn’t seem right. Why was that hair found on Jimin after Hoseok did the autopsy? Why did the semen sample not have a match after previously matching to Jungkook? Why were there so many things that just didn’t make sense?

On a slow day, he decided to pull Jungkook aside for some questioning. Not a formal investigation, but more of a boss-to-employee kind of talk.

“Hey,” Jin started, walking up next to you and Jungkook as you sipped your coffees in the kitchen. “What are you two up to?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Just waiting for a case to come in. Things have been slow ever since we put that serial killer behind bars.”

“Yeah,” you added. “Not much to do aside from the occasional missing child cases that just turn out to be some kid who decided to skip school for a day.” You pursed your lips and stared at your coffee.

“Jungkook, may I ask you some things in private?”

“All due respect, sir, but whatever you ask me you can ask in front of Y/N.”

Jin sighed. “Fine, but do you remember a few weeks ago when Hoseok found semen inside of one of the victims, and when he ran it, it matched you?”

“I thought that he ran it again and came up with nothing,” Jungkook pointed out.

“Right… It was a fluke.” Jin didn’t sound convinced. “But I just have to ask…” He hesitated, to which Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Where were you on the night of Jiah’s murder?”

Jungkook slowly turned his head and locked eyes with you. After holding your gaze for a brief moment, he looked back at Jin and cleared his throat. “I was with Y/N.”

“Wow, way to expose me like that,” you grumbled and swatted his arm.

Jungkook winced and rubbed the spot you hit.

“Is that true?” Jin asked you.

You sighed. “Yes, I was with him that night,” you answered.

“So are you two, like… dating?”

“That’s really none of your business, Jin,” you quipped.

Jin grimaced. “I know, I was just curious.”

“I was with her for the rest of the murders, too, if you were curious.” He saw Jin squirm. “And if you’re still not satisfied, I have a camera installed in my driveway. If you go to the night that Jiah was murdered, you’ll see Y/N dropping me off at home.”

“Alright, alright. You don’t have to get so defensive. I’m a detective for god’s sake! It’s my job to ask questions!”

“That’s understandable,” Jungkook replied. “But considering I’ve been wrongly accused before, I felt like I needed to defend myself. Also, I think Y/N’s constant bad mood is starting to rub off on me.”

“Hey! I’m not in a bad mood! I’m just annoyed to be constantly surrounded by men every hour of everyday.”

Jungkook looked at Jin and shook his head, a gesture that said, “Don’t listen to her, she’s just being dramatic.”

Jin let out a nervous laugh. “Well, I best be going. Lots of case files to input into the system.” He nodded curtly before leaving, not wanting to get tangled in a quarrel between you and Jungkook.

Once he was gone, Jungkook turned toward you with an annoyed expression. “What was that all about?”

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows in genuine confusion.

“You said you would be my alibi and then got all snappy when I said you were,” Jungkook answered.

You shrugged. “Just trying to make it more believable. You think I would just let you rat me out to our boss like that?”

“No, I guess not.”

Almost getting caught really put Jungkook on edge. Even months later, he still refrained from killing. He was okay with it for the most part. But, he missed going out and searching for victims. He missed the thrill of the chase and finally getting to fulfill his desires.

He didn’t particularly miss the sex though. Now, he had you to satiate him.

But the blood… The murder… Watching as the life left people’s bodies. That was a lust that couldn’t be sated by you.

“Everything alright, Jungkook?” You asked, noticing the vacant look in his eyes as you straddled him on your bed.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine.” He leaned forward to plant kisses on your neck.

You craned your neck back, giving him a better angle. “You want to be on top?”

Without answering he grabbed onto your waist and threw you onto the mattress, knocking the wind out of you.

As you tried to catch your breath, he continued kissing your neck. He started at your jaw, then moved down to your throat, pressing his lips softly against your skin until he reached the large vein that carried your pulse. He paused, able to feel it beating erratically beneath your skin.

That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Kookie. It’s only a matter of time before you lose control.

He could hear Namjoon’s voice so clearly in his head, saying the words Jungkook had been trying so hard to block out over the last few months. He had been successful for a while, but now, all he could think about was that vein in your neck, all the blood rushing through it, circulating throughout the rest of your body, and how satisfying it would be to just slice it open, letting all of that rich, red blood spill free.

You noticed that you’d lost him again. “Jungkook, what’s wrong?” You searched his face for an answer.

“I’m sorry, I can't do this,” Jungkook said, pulling away from you abruptly.

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I think I need to turn myself in.”

“What? Why?” You sat up and watched him as he threw on his jacket and shoes. “Where are you going?”

“To the police station.”

“Right now? After all I did to save your ass, you’re going to turn yourself in?”

“Y/N, I have to. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me not to kill you right now?”

“What? But you’re not even drunk!”

“I know… But lately… Ever since I stopped with the drunk murders…” He had trouble wording his thoughts. “I’ve been wanting them sober as well. It’s been too long. I need something.”

“Something…” You repeat, not satisfied with his vague answer.

“I can’t explain it! All I know is that right now, all I can focus on is the vein in your neck, and how much I want to cut it open and watch you bleed. I don’t have to be drunk to want to kill you anymore. And I’m scared that one day I will.”

“I don’t know, maybe murdering me wouldn’t be so bad.”

“This isn’t a time for jokes, Y/N.”

You sighed. “If you do turn yourself in, what happens to me? You used me as your alibi. If you go to jail, so do I.”

“I’ll think of something. Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to.”

Without another word he turned around and walked out. Soon, he was gone.

Jungkook stormed into the precinct around midnight. Some police officers were still there, waiting for emergency calls, others were patrolling the streets for crime. Jin was nowhere in sight, probably gone home at this hour.

“Where’s Jin?” He yelled when he barged in.

“Jin went home a couple of hours ago,” one of the senior officers answered. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Yes, Officer Bang. Please call Jin and tell him to get his ass down here.”

Jin arrived at the station confused. Officer Bang had called him to tell him to come to the station without any further explanation other than the fact that it was urgent.

“What the hell is going on that you had to call me at midnight and tell me to come down here with no explana–” He stopped when he saw Jungkook. “Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

“Jin, may I speak to you privately?”

Jin opened his mouth to reply, but instead closed it and nodded. He then led Jungkook out of the main room and into one of the interrogation rooms.

“What’s up, Jungkook?” Jin asked as Jungkook closed the door behind him.

He knew that if he pondered on it longer, he might change his mind. So without hesitation he blurted out, “I did it.”

Jin leaned against the table, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Did what?”

“I killed Min Yoongi, Kang Hyojin, Park Jimin, and Jeon Jiah. It was me, not Namjoon.”

Jin gaped at Jungkook, not knowing how to respond. He always had a feeling it was Jungkook, and awaited the day he confessed, but now that he had, he couldn’t quite process it.

“You…?”

Jungkook took a deep breath. “Yes, me.”

“Why now?” Jin stood up straight and scrutinized with the detective.

“What?” He squirmed under the intensity of his boss’ stare.

Jin narrowed his eyes. “Why are you confessing now? After months? After an innocent man went to prison?”

“You make it sound like he was falsely accused. He turned himself in, he wanted to be arrested.”

Jin tongued his cheek, trying to decide what to do next. “So you really did it? You’re really confessing?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, that brings me back to my previous question: Why now?”

“For a long time, I wanted to stop with the killing, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. Not until a few months ago when I was almost caught. Then I was able to hold myself back, but lately I’ve been… I’m worried I’ll do it again.”

Jin nodded solemnly. “You know, I have no choice but to arrest you.”

“I know,” Jungkook casted his gaze down toward the ground.

“And, we’re going to have to hold you in the station’s cell until we can get a court date.”

“I’m a detective, Jin. I know how things work around here.”

Again, Jin nodded, his lips pressed into a straight line. “Just making sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Do I really have a choice at this point?”

“No, I suppose not.”

For the first time in his life, Jin was not happy that he was right.

Jungkook sat in the hard wooden chair in the courtroom, listening to the prosecutor drone on and on about his case. It was immensely uncomfortable, both on his ass and his back, and no matter which way he shifted, he experienced no relief. The fact that his hands were chained together didn’t help with his discomfort either. He spent most of the time zoning out and the rest of the time answering questions.

“Regarding the murder of Jeon Jiah, semen was found inside the victim, but no matches were found in the system. Are you saying that it was yours?” The prosecutor asked him.

“Yes,” Jungkook answered. “The reason there was no match was because I snuck into the lab and altered the results.”

“And what about your alibi? You said you were with Y/N for the night of that murder, as well as the others. Did she know about this and cover for you?”

He looked over to where you sat in the audience. “No, Y/N didn’t lie. She didn’t know about the murders. I always met up with her afterward, within the possible time of death timeframe, but I didn’t tell her where I was or what I did before. I used her as my alibi, but she didn’t know.”

“Mhm. And with Park Jimin, did you tamper with the evidence and plant Kim Taehyung’s hair on the body.”

Jungkook nodded. “Yes.”

The prosecutor nodded. “That will be all, your honor.” He bowed to the judge and took his seat.

“Do you, Jeon Jungkook, plead guilty to the murder of Min Yoongi on June 13th, 2020, Kang Hyojin on March 2nd, 2021, Park Jimin on July 8th, 2021, and Jeon Jiah on July 15th, 2021?” The judge asked.

“Yes, I, Jeon Jungkook, plead guilty to all of those murders,” Jungkook announced.

“I hereby sentence you to 85 years to life in prison, without bail and no opportunity for parole.”

Jungkook looked down at his chained wrists and nodded.

It’s what’s right. It’s what I deserve.

“Kim Namjoon shall be released in the next 24 hours, and I request that he undergoes a psychiatric evaluation. That will be all for today. Case closed.” The judge banged his gavel onto the sound block, signalling the end of the trial.

You followed close behind as the police officers escorted Jungkook out of the courtroom, aggressively pushing past the sea of news reporters shoving their camera in Jungkook’s downcasted face. You watched them shoving and yelling, trying to push their way to the front of the crowd to get the best photo of the City’s notorious serial killer. The real one this time. You lingered at the scene, a few feet away, as Jungkook was led into an armored van that belonged to the local penitentiary. He turned back before entering the vehicle, and gave you a reassuring smile, which was undoubtedly forced. You didn’t smile back, and when he saw that, you were met with a frown. You continued to watch as the van drove away, disappearing down the street, taking Jungkook away forever.

You never visited him, and he never called you. To this day you don’t even know if he’s still alive, or if he was killed in a prison fight or poisoned by some corrupt guard. Although, as famous as he became, you would assume it would be on the news if he passed.

Kim Namjoon was released within 24 hours of the trial, per the judge’s orders, and underwent a psychiatric evaluation. You don’t know what became of him after that, and honestly, you don’t care.

Thankfully, the commotion you had so feared, the very thing that drove you to lie for Jungkook’s sake, did not happen. There were no accusations of conspiracy within the precinct. The media and the citizens left you and Jin alone, without so much as a single whisper of corruption. But still, you left the precinct, unable to tolerate working with Kim Seokjin by yourself, and opened your own private detective agency. You were finally at peace, and hoped that all of your lies wouldn’t catch up to you one day.

Read about the Skyline Case here.

[eatingtheave]

Takeout from Cedars

Today I had a meeting of my unit’s Racial Equity Committee, a team that I co-lead for about a year and a half. It’s a team that is really special to me. We’ve talked about tough topics and brainstormed ways to make a difference in our organization - they are my peeps! 

One of the members suggested that we get takeout and share a meal together. I thought through where I wanted to order food from - I knew it had to be the U District. I thought about getting more Thai food, but decided on the Indian restaurant Cedars on 50th and Brooklyn. I had heard that they had shown kindness to some of the people in need in the neighborhood, so I wanted to support them with my order. As it turned out, they had an easy online order form. I ordered palak paneer and butter chicken and included a 20 percent tip (more than I usually would leave for takeout) as a show of support.

The food was ready right on time. I brought my daughter Penny, and the man working there offered her a free mango lassi and me a free chai. This act of kindness warmed my heart, and I interpreted it as thanks for my business (and perhaps the tip). Giving gifts and receiving gifts is good for the soul. It makes us feel connected to others, a feeling that we are in short supply of during the days of quarantine. 

We also went to Safeway, which is right across the street from Cedars, to pick up some grocery store sushi - Penny’s favorite. In February, Safeway began giving out pieces for their Monopoly game. Based on what we bought, we were due to receive one piece. He gave us about 10 - another small act of kindness. This was really helpful when we were home, and I needed something to occupy Penny while I was on a conference call.

I had stopped in that same Safeway on Monday morning. As I was checking out, I saw one man slap another. Ends up that the slapper was an employee who was defending himself from a shoplifter whom he’d confronted. The slappee walked out and then returned saying, to the slapper and another employee, that he was going to “kick your ass.” My checker explained that this kind of thing happens all the time. “They don’t pay us enough,” she sighed. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have to deal with shoplifters and the like, alongside the anxious environment created by coronavirus shoppers. 

I opened the Seattle Times this morning to find a story on this exact topic. “Grocery-store workers are on the front line, just like health care workers,” said Sarah Cherin with UFCW 21. I couldn’t agree more.