#still begging someone to write the original of this but also someone write this too please

[avamills]

not to start drama but that daniel has a tiktok where he makes food for johnny au right? that but they do the trend that’s like “my husband thinks we would have been friends in high school”

[changbunnies]

Moonstruck (18+)

♡ Pairing: Changbin x Ghost Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: very loosely inspired by corpse bride, horror in a goofy + silly + fluffy sort of way, ghost / human relationship, love at first sight vibes, smut, takes place vaguely during a time where ppl still use landlines more predominantly than cellphones

♡ Word Count: 6.5k

♡ Summary: Changbin is a scaredy cat– and despite that, he likes to read to the deceased in the cemetery, likes to help the souls that may linger there feel less lonely, likes to let them know they aren’t forgotten. His poems of choice are sweet things, full of love and joy– and his utterances of true love stir you; a soul who died before knowing love, and who craves it even in death. And Changbin decides, then and there, that he wants to give you what you couldn’t have in life.

♡ Warnings: discussions about death ofc (reader is quite literally dead and a ghost lol), i thought making reader the ghost instead of bin would be a fun lil twist as that usually isn't the case in fics like these? just wanted to try somethin a lil different :')

♡ Smut Warnings: sweet + tender smut because i'm a yearner for bin first and foremost!, no intended dom/sub dynamics but i did write a lot of bin begging so :), pet names (baby, honey), exhibitionism, voyeurism, some nipple play, mutual masturbation while cuddling

♡ Notes: my kinktober opened up dark but we are returning to standard form with my precious sweet binnie!! i did originally have something dark planned for bin too but i scrapped it pretty early on cause it didn't feel right lol i couldn't do it!! also the poem binnie is reading at the beginning of the fic is "since feeling is first" by e.e. cummings!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Changbin curses the autumn sun for setting so early– why on earth is it already so dark at 6 o’clock?!

The full moon hangs over him, and gosh, he wishes he could've gotten here earlier in the day– maybe then he wouldn’t still be here, in the local cemetery at night, with nothing but his poem book in hand.

He wishes even more that he at least had a flashlight– but the batteries were drained in the one he has sitting in his car's glove box, and it's not like he can leave spares in there; that's dangerous! So all he can do now is keep turning in the moonlight, trying to get it to hit the page of his book just right so he can keep reading. 

Perhaps the reason he's here is silly, but Changbin fully believes in ghosts. Well, to be more precise, he thinks that there are many souls in the world, and that not every soul is here physically. 

Most souls, he thinks, depart for a better place when their flesh dies, but he also thinks there are many that don’t– many that stick around because there is something they still wish to do, or because they have someone they still wish to see. 

That’s what always brings him here when he can spare a moment from his busy life. Because he believes that if spirits do still linger in this world like he thinks they do, if they haven’t yet found peace and moved on, they must be lonely. 

It must be sad– to exist in the world you once knew, but be unable to interact with it the way you used to. For others to no longer be able to see you, touch you, or hear you.. He doesn’t want anyone, alive or otherwise, to feel forgotten or ignored. And if he can make a difference somehow, in whatever small and silly way it is, he’ll do it; because he’d want someone to do it for him. 

Naturally, he didn’t intend to still be here at night; he just got caught up at work, and arrived here later than he typically would. But still, he didn’t want to just turn around and go home– he promised last week that he’d come back today to read! 

And maybe ghosts, or spirits, or whatever you want to call them aren’t real; maybe he spends his time here reading to nothing and no one. But if there’s even a chance that someone can hear him, and who looks forward to the days he returns to keep them company, then he has to keep his promises. 

Still, he’d be lying if he said he isn’t more than a little freaked out right now. He’s been here during the day plenty of times, and you’d think that’d mean he wouldn’t be scared of the place at night, but oh, you’d be so sorely mistaken. 

He jumps every time the crisp, freshly fallen autumn leaves rustle from the wind, and from every shadow cast from the newly bare tree branches. He constantly glances over his shoulder, alerted from every small noise, whether it be an owl hooting or a cricket chirping.

And when a black cat appeared out of nowhere to bump against his leg, he let out the shrillest shriek before erupting into a fit of sneezes. He even jumped out of his skin from accidentally kicking a can while walking– and why is there litter in a cemetery anyways? Whoever left their trash here is so disrespectful! 

Suffice it to say, Changbin really wants to get out of here– but there’s only one more batch of graves he hasn’t read over yet, and he doesn’t want to skip them over. It wouldn’t feel fair to them, especially not if they're waiting for him– the last thing he wants to do is disappoint someone.

“H-Hi everyone! Changbinnie’s back to read again, uhm– s-sorry I came so late, I’ll still read to you like I promised! J-Just give me a sec,” he says, trying to temper the fear in his voice as he continues to adjust the position of his book in the moonlight. Finally, he finds the perfect position for the moon to make the words in his book clear, and for the shadow he himself casts to not obscure them.

He takes one more tentative glance around, takes a breath to settle his nerves before he clears his throat to start. And thankfully, the fear does naturally start to dissipate a bit as he reads– serves as a good enough distraction from his eerie surroundings. "Since feeling is first, who pays any attention to the syntax of things, will never wholly kiss you. Wholly to be a fool while–"

Changbin pauses when he hears an unfamiliar sound, goosebumps erupting all along his skin as he looks up from his book. It was a soft, light and airy sound– almost like a voice, though he’s certain it couldn’t have been; because when he looks around, he doesn't see anyone. He’s as alone as he’s been from the start; so he assumes he's just psyching himself out, mistaking the steadily blowing wind for something it isn’t. 

"Aish, it's nothing! Stop scaring yourself!" he whispers to himself before he continues to recite the words on the page. But he pauses yet again when he hears fallen leaves crinkle and a brittle tree branch snap just feet away from him. It spooks him good, it does– and he lets out an awkward laugh at himself when he realizes it was the black cat he saw earlier that made the sound; hopefully it keeps enough distance that he doesn't get the sneezes again.

Looking away from the cat that is currently working overtime to fray his nerves, he turns his attention back to his book. There's only a tiny bit of the poem left to go, and Changbin is confident he can get through it! No more being a scaredy cat over the little things, no more trembling breaths and anxious stutters– he can do this!

"The best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids' flutter, which says we are for each other; then laugh, leaning back in my arms. For life's not a paragraph, and death, I think, is no parenthesis."

With a sigh of relief to be finished, he closes his book and prepares to bid the inhabitants of the cemetery, that may or may not actually exist, a pleasant goodbye; and a swear that he's never staying past sundown again. He’ll stay longer next time, he promises, but he has to go home before he loses his mind. 

He really hopes they do exist– he doesn't want to think he stuck around while scared out of his wits for no reason; he hopes someone heard him, and was comforted by his presence. And honestly, he thinks he deserves a pat on the back after all the trials he's gone through in the last 30 minutes!

And as he finishes tucking his poem book in his arm and looks up, he sees someone. Translucent, hazy, floating, just a few feet in front of him– he can see straight through them, can see all the dark trees and short, stone headstones that live in the ground that the figure should obscure were they physically here.

Changbin blinks, almost wanting to cartoonishly rub his eyes and slap his cheeks to make sure he's seeing properly and not losing his mind like he fears. What he does instead is shriek, positively jumps out of his skin once again as he drops his book and falls back on his behind from the fright.

He scrambles backwards, ducks behind a nearby headstone and brings a hand over his racing heart. He takes a few breaths, does his best to calm down before he slowly peeks out from behind the headstone to see if the figure is still there. 

He doesn't see anyone anymore– was he just seeing things? He has been really scared, so he doesn't think it impossible that his mind would start tricking him. But what if he really saw a ghost? The thought makes goosebumps rise on his skin again– God, he needs to go home already. 

"Hello? Can you hear me?" he hears a voice, airy and otherworldly, just behind him. His breath hitches, and hesitantly, slowly, he starts to turn toward the source of the voice. You float there, brows furrowed as you call to him, glowing ever so slightly in the palest shade of blue. 

A chill runs down his spine, and it's not just from how frightened he is– it's because cold air is quite literally radiating off of you. "Y-You– You're– You're a–" You're a ghost, he's trying to say, but the word catches in his throat. It doesn't help that his teeth are chattering now– he can even see his breath with every word he manages to choke out.

And yes, he already thought ghosts were real– the whole reason he comes here to comfort spirits is because he believes in them! But he’s never actually seen one before, nor heard their disembodied voices calling to him. And now that it’s actually happening, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“You can hear me! I knew it! You can see me too, can’t you?” you exclaim joyously, clapping your hands together in utter delight. You’re less transparent than before, your form less blurry– but you don’t look solid either. If he stuck his hand out to touch you, he’s sure it’d pass right through you. 

He swallows as he watches you dart side to side in your glee, the motions so smooth it’s unnatural. You look around his age, he thinks, though it’s impossible for him to tell exactly how old you are– or rather, were. Your hair is wispy, floats around you in a way reminiscent of being underwater; your long dress does too, light and delicate in appearance. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Changbin,” you tell him earnestly as you float down to his eye level, “I didn’t mean to, I just got so excited you could finally hear me– I'm so happy!” 

“You– you know my name?” Changbin questions, bewildered– honestly, he feels like he’s going to pass out. “Of course I do! You come here every week to read to me,” you reply with a giggle, as if the idea that you wouldn’t know his name is a silly one.

“O-Oh, right, yeah, of course, that makes sense,” he mutters. He’s still shocked, but he’s not as scared as before, and he manages to relax just a little. “You, uhm– you listen to me read often then..?” he follows up hesitantly; and it’s probably such a silly question, but you’ll have to forgive him because he’s never had a conversation with a ghost before. 

“Yes! I love when you come to visit and read your poems, it always makes me happy,” you tell him, adjusting your position so you’re sitting down with him– though you aren’t actually sitting on the dirt like he is, but levitating off the ground.

You introduce yourself after that, smile happily when he repeats it, because it’s been oh so long since someone said your name. “If you’re always here, why couldn’t I see you before?” Changbin can’t help but ask after, because now that the fear is dissipating he’s full of questions he wants to ask you.

“Well, the conditions have to be right! You can’t see me when it’s bright out, and you never stay 'til dark. And now I know why, scaredy cat,” you tease him, giggling when he pouts and huffs. You honestly find it endearing that someone as seemingly strong as Changbin is so easily frightened by little things.

“Hey, you’d be scared too!” he complains, though he can’t help but smile as you keep giggling at him. He never expected to befriend a ghost, but you’re obviously a kind spirit, and your delight to be talking to him is evident. And now that he’s over the shock and the fear, and really looks at you, he thinks you’re pretty too– beautiful, even. 

Is that strange? Maybe; but you are still a person at the end of the day. You float, you’re a little transparent, you glow pale blue and cold air surrounds you, but you’re still a person.

And at the same time, he can’t help but feel sad too– death comes for everyone, he knows, but it feels unfair that someone like you is already gone from this world. Someone as young, kind, and beautiful as you should’ve lived a long, full life.

“You need to have strong emotions to manifest, y’know? And the moon helps– when it's full like this, it gives me more energy than I usually have,” you continue to explain when your giggling subsides, and Changbin hums contemplatively, thinking for a moment before he responds.

“You have strong emotions then? Something that keeps you here?” It makes sense that you would– as far as he knows, strong emotions are the only things tethering spirits to the physical world; so if you’re not at rest, it has to be because there’s something within you that feels unresolved, something you needed or wanted but never obtained. 

Tentatively you nod, fiddling with your fingers and averting your gaze slightly. “I do, but.. It’s– it’s silly,” you mumble, and Changbin’s previous lighthearted, curious expression shifts, suddenly turning serious as he gazes at you with a slight frown.

“If it mattered to you– if it still matters to you, it’s not silly,” he says, and the sincerity in which he says it would make your heart race if you were still alive. If you’re being entirely honest, you’re in love with Changbin– and that’s part of the problem.

When you were alive, all you’d ever wanted was love– to meet someone that knocked you off your feet with just a glance, someone sweet, sincere, and tender. Someone that you could marry someday, maybe start a family with while living together in a quaint little idyllic house. 

But that never happened– and the sense of despair and unfulfillment you felt from having your dreams taken away from you are what kept you here. You didn’t know what to do when you realized what happened to you– spent your days wailing in frustration and sadness to the few other spirits inhabiting the cemetery with you over the unfair circumstances. 

What were you supposed to do? How were you supposed to find peace and move on? Maybe the only way would be to learn to accept it– accept that your dreams would never come true, and just let them go. You didn’t want to, but if you kept holding onto them, who knows when you’d finally move on from this world? 

And around the same time you were grappling with such thoughts and feelings is when you first saw Changbin, who came to the cemetery for no reason other than to give you and the other inhabitants some company. And he wasn’t talking only to you, but it always felt like he was– like every word that left his lips was entirely for you alone. 

“I’m here for you, you’re not alone as long as Changbin is here,” “This poem is my favorite, I hope you like it too,” “Did you have a good day today? It’s okay if you didn’t– Binnie’ll hopefully make it better!” 

That’s all it took, really– and suddenly, you weren’t bound to this world because you never knew love; you were bound to this world because you felt it too much. You love him; not just because of his sweet personality, but every little detail about him– from the swoop and curl of his hair, to his chubby cheeks, to his cute, pretty and pouty lips. 

And you long to kiss him, but Changbin is alive, and you very much aren’t anymore– and there’s no way he’ll fall in love with a ghost. Still, you believe him when he says that what binds you here isn’t silly– or that he won’t think so, at least. 

“It’s just.. Well, I can’t have what I want, I know I can’t, but I still want it anyways; like, even though I should just let it go, I can’t bring myself to. I think that’s why I’m still here,” you tell him, deciding it’s best to keep your desires down to their vaguest parts.

Changbin is sweet, and he looks at you with so much care that you’re certain he’d be understanding and sympathetic, but it’s probably for the best that you don’t pour your heart out beyond that. 

“Is there really no way for you to have what you want? If there’s anything I can do to help, you can tell me! I’d do my best,” he expresses sincerely, and though you can’t physically cry anymore, it almost makes you feel like you will. He’s just too sweet, you can’t take it.

“M-Maybe, but I wouldn’t ask for it,” you reply, and his brows furrow a little. “Why not? You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but I hope you know that I mean it when I say I'd be happy to help you," Changbin says, smile so patient, gentle and sweet that it if you were still alive, your cheeks would definitely be heating up right now. 

Should you give it a shot? What's the worst that could happen? You're already dead, so it's not like you can die from embarrassment if he shuts you down. The worst he can say is no– and that would be okay too, because maybe with his rejection you'd finally be able to let go of what keeps you here.

“You could.. kiss me?” you say after a moment of hesitation, and Changbin almost squeaks from how surprised he is, blinks at you with the cutest flustered expression you’ve ever seen.

“Th-That’s– that’s what you want?” he stutters out, and even in the low light of the moon, you can tell he’s blushing, the soft pink spreading over his cheeks and crawling up to the tips of his ears.

“It’s– it’s what I wanted when I was alive. To kiss someone I love, I mean,” you answer, and it gets Changbin’s heart racing. Not just that someone as pretty as you, ghost or not, wants to kiss him, but the implication that you love him that definitely wasn’t missed by him. 

“It was the poems, wasn’t it?” he says with a bashful little downturned smile a moment later, and you laugh, in your delightfully light and airy way as you nod. “They helped. But really, I just think you’re very cute– and very sweet.”

It’s a little strange, being complimented like this by a ghost, and learning that said ghost has very deep rooted feelings for him– but he likes it. And maybe it’s a little unorthodox, but he’d be happy to give you what you want; especially if it will help you find peace.

“I’ll kiss you,” he tells you, and it’s not because he feels obligated, or like he should– it’s because, believe it or not, he sincerely wants to. He thinks you're pretty, you're sweet and earnest, and you love him– so who cares if you're a ghost; why shouldn't he kiss you?

“A-Are you sure? You really don’t have to,” you assure him, and Changbin smiles at you as he nods, entirely certain. “I know I don’t have to. I want to kiss you.” Your spiritual heart soars and burns with joy– and slowly, timidly, you return his smile before you float your way closer to him, and reach your hand out to touch his cheek.

He doesn’t feel your touch, not really– just the cold that pours from you. Regardless, he closes his eyes for you, purses his lips and slightly tilts his head the way he would if he were kissing anyone else. And again, he doesn’t feel your lips, but the cold– that is, until the feeling suddenly starts to become fuller. 

Slowly, he can begin to feel the way your hand rests on his cheek, can feel your lips slotted against his. He can feel your other hand resting on his chest, right over his heart, can feel the weight of your body on his lap, and he shivers– not because of the cold, but because he can actually feel you now.

Instinctively, he moves his hands to try and touch you– and is pleasantly surprised to find he can. His hands don’t phase through you like he thought they would earlier– he can feel you under his fingertips, as if you’re just as corporeal as he himself is. And so he holds you close, kisses you slow and sweet, over and over until he’s out of breath. 

“You’re still here,” he can’t help but whisper when he pulls away; he half expected you to dissipate the moment you got what you wanted, though he’s not sure if that’s actually how it's supposed to work. And he’s left with a strange feeling– on one hand, he’s sad for you because he really did want to help you move on. On the other hand, he likes that you’re still here, that he can still see you and feel you. 

In reality, you feel like his kiss tethered you even more to the physical world. You’re the happiest you’ve ever been, and instead of it giving you the peace you needed to move on, it bound you here stronger. You're filled with a strong desire to remain here, to be with Changbin, and you feel that it has made you manifest more than you’d ever been able to before. 

You’ve tried many times before, but have never been able to manifest yourself this much; to the point that not only could you be seen and heard, but felt– and whether it’s because the full moon is helping, or because Changbin’s kiss gave you more energy and purpose, or a mix of both, you’re happy.

“I think I like you too much to move on.” you tell him, and he giggles as he squeezes you closer, his nose scrunching cutely whilst he hugs you. 

“I’m sorry– I feel like I shouldn’t be, but I’m happy you’re still here,” he says, and you shake your head, returning his smile as you share the sentiment. “I’m happy I’m still here too.” 

It’s a bit strange, having a ghost for a partner. Sharing a kiss attached you to him; and no longer bound to your grave, but to Changbin himself, now you go wherever he goes. You don’t need to always be right on him, of course– but you do have to be close; and every time one of you steps too far out of that radius, you always end up snapping back to him. 

It’s a generous radius, really– you can go several miles before the invisible tether connecting you snaps you back to his side. It’s more than enough for you to exist in his house while he goes to work– and really, he’s happy to share his home with you; he’s sure it beats staying in the cemetery all day, every day. 

And even when he can’t see you, whether because the sun is too bright in the sky or because you don’t have enough energy to manifest that day, he can feel you– and you make yourself known in little ways. His house is always cold now, but it’s especially cold when you’re nearby. You flicker his lights and turn his tv screen to static to get his attention, or leave a message in the steam from his hot showers on the mirror. 

He’ll get a phantom phone call to his landline, where all that exists on the other line is static– but even if he can’t hear it, he’s sure at that moment you’re saying something sweet. And while he's mostly used to these occurrences now, he'll still jump when he hears a sudden noise before he remembers it’s you; a tapping on the wood of his bed frame, usually– 8 knocks meant to signify “I love you.”

Nights of the full moon are always when you can manifest yourself the fullest and easiest, and you both take full advantage of the time you have before you eventually start to become hazy and transparent again. Tonight is one of those nights; the moon hanging high, bright and beautiful, illuminating his dark room in the same pretty, pale blue that glows off you. 

“Baby, please–! You’re so cold, warn me first!” Changbin cries when you first touch him. He already knows you’re not going to waste any time in getting to touch him when you first manifest, but the chill that radiates off you still jolts him every time.

“You’re just so warm,” you muse happily as you snake your limbs around him, sap him for all the warmth he’s worth under his fluffy comforter, “my big teddy bear.” He huffs, but smiles as he does– he can’t actually be upset with you, after all. 

“You should let me take your warmth anyways– you were so mean, ignoring me all day,” you pout as you snuggle into him, burying your head in the warm crook of his neck.

“Hey, hey! Don’t say that, that’s not fair! You know I couldn’t see you!” he wails dramatically, and you have to make an effort not to giggle, bury your face further into him so he can’t see you smiling.

Of course, you know it’s not his fault in the slightest that he couldn’t see your or hear you earlier today, but you still like to tease him over it just a little– his reactions to it are always so cute. “So mean,” you repeat, your voice muffled by his sweater.

He knows that you’re doing it to get a rise out of him, and you know that he knows. But he likes doing this with you– it’s silly fun, and he loves the precious smile that spreads on your face when he plays along and inevitably dotes on you while begging for your forgiveness.

“Aigoo, my baby is really upset. Guess Binnie just has to make it up to you, huh?” he says, and you lift your head just enough to peek an eye at him. “Tell Changbinnie what you want, he’ll give it to you. He’s really sorry,” he entices you further, and the cute smile he was expecting and loves so much makes its full appearance.

“Want a kiss,” you say, pursing your lips at him in that cute duck shape as you wait for him to comply. He tries to coo at you, but it comes out more like a giggle before he’s lifting his head from the pillow to kiss you, tender and sweet.

“Do you forgive me now?” he asks when he pulls away, and you hum as you pretend to think about it. “Mm, I don’t know. I think I might need another one to decide.”

Changbin fully laughs then, shakes his head and mutters something about you being cute before he kisses you again. He shifts onto his side as he kisses you, making it easier for you to tangle your legs with his. He hisses when your cold toes touch the backs of warm calves, and you giggle an apology, though he knows you’re not actually sorry about it at all.

You always tell him how much you love his warmth, and how it radiates from every inch of him. And he’ll pout and shout, half-heartedly complain when you surprise him by touching him with your cold digits, simply because he knows it makes you laugh; you both know that in reality, he’s happy to be your personal heater.

He shivers when you snake your hands under his sweater; your hands aren’t as cold as they were when you first touched him anymore, but it’s still enough for goosebumps to follow the path of your fingers– or maybe he just has goosebumps because he likes you touching him.

Changbin gasps when you brush over his peaking, puffy nipples, and you take that moment to slip your tongue into this mouth. He moans when you pinch them between your fingers, tweak and twist just enough to have him squirming.

“Honey,” he breathes in a near whine when you pull away from him to kiss over his jaw, and the scar that sits on his chin, while your fingers continue to play with his body. 

“I missed you,” you speak against his skin as you press kisses along his neck, “I heard you earlier– saw you touching yourself in the shower. I wanted you so bad, but I couldn’t do anything about it.” He whimpers at that, squeezes you where his hand rests on your waist. 

Naturally, the fact that you can hear him and see him even when he can’t see or hear you always exists in the back of his mind. Every time he starts to touch himself, it’s something he considers– and he even likes it; likes knowing you’re there, watching and listening.

“I’m sorry, couldn’t help it,” he whines an apology, though he knows he doesn’t have to. You’ve both talked about it, of course– how you like watching him, and how he likes being watched in turn. There’s something naughty about it, and it always leaves him feeling extra desired and sexy when you later tell him what you saw, how much you want him because of it. 

And when he feels a sudden chill run along his body and down the length of his spine, is hit with the inexplicable sensation of being watched, he knows it’s you. It always fuels him, makes him fist his cock faster and run his mouth, hoping you like everything he’s spilling. 

Really, it’s no wonder that you always jump his bones the minute you can. Changbin thinks he’d go insane if the situation were the opposite; if he could see you touching yourself, could hear every little noise of pleasure you release, and not be able to join no matter how bad he wanted to. He’s already desperate for more intimacy with you as is– he doesn’t think he’d be able to take it. 

“Can you do it again? Touch yourself with me right here?” you ask him, and he can’t help the way his face flushes as you continue, “I want you to see me watching you this time.” You can feel the way his heart thumps in response to your request, how it picks up speed ever so slightly before he answers. “Y-Yeah, I can– I can do that for you, honey.”

You meant it when you said you like watching Changbin get off. You like watching his honeyed skin slowly take on more and more pink as he strokes his cock. You like watching his broad chest puff out, his stomach clench, his toned arms flex with every motion he makes.

You like watching the sweat build on his brow, and like to listen to his moans become more breathy and whiny as he gets closer and closer to release. And though Changbin isn’t naked now, you’ll still enjoy watching all the same; because he's beautiful, and handsome, and so utterly perfect when he's feeling good.

He reaches between your bodies, manages to get his pajama pants and underwear down just enough to release his still hardening cock from their confines. He bites his lip as he takes the short length in his hand, looks down at himself as he strokes it slowly before looking back at you.

There’s still enough lingering sensitivity from before that he squirms more than usual, but that’s not all there is to it– it's your attentive stare, the way you gaze into his eyes as he moans before you trail them away to watch him stroke himself, and back again. And you’re so close, body so tangled with his, that his fist keeps bumping into your thigh with each pump of his cock. 

Changbin keens when you kiss him, so affectionate and tender that it makes his head spin. You can feel his thighs twitch as he starts to stroke himself faster, and you pull away to watch for a few moments before you tilt your head back up to kiss him again. He's fully hard now, dripping pre-cum so steadily that the glide of his hand becomes slick and effortless.

He whimpers when you pinch his nipples again, parts his lips so you can slip your tongue back into his mouth. His breathing becomes steadily harsher and uneven, his every moan and whimper muffled by your lips against his. He brings his other hand to your ass, squeezes it as he pulls you even closer to his body, as if the fact that you're not already mere inches apart with your limbs tangled together is enough for him.

And truly, he can't get enough of having you close like this. The way you kiss him, touch him, look at him, all while he’s stroking his cock for you– it really does something to him; makes him feel so good and so desired that he swears he could cum purely from the intimacy of it alone.

“You too, please?” Changbin pleads in a breathy exhale the next time you pull back from kissing him, “Please, want to watch you too.”

“Yeah? You want to watch me?” you smile, almost giggle from the eager nod and the whiny, desperate “please, want it so bad,” he gives in response. You’re sweet to your Binnie, oblige him in an instant, and he watches with eager eyes and bated breath as you dip your hand between your bodies.

Even with your dress already hiked all the way up your thighs, you’re so closely pressed to him that he can’t get a clear sight of your pussy; but watching your hand will be enough of a view for him. He'll be able to tell what you're doing, and that's all he really needs.  

All you can reach while this close and tangled together with Changbin is your clit, and he watches you shudder at the first bit of stimulation to it from your fingers. He mimics what you’d done– alternates between watching your face and your hand, and God, every time your eyes meet again it takes his breath away. 

It’s not the same as if you had a physical body like his– your face doesn’t flush, you don't sweat from exertion, and you don’t grow breathless the way he does, but you feel the pleasure all the same. He can tell from the furrow of your brow, the tremble of your body, and the bite of your lip as you gaze at him.

And you're so pretty, face so close to his that your foreheads touch, that his every breath tickles you. "Oh my god, baby–" he whimpers when you start to moan with him, picking up the pace of your hand when he does, matching his speed.

It makes him dizzy– because when he closes his eyes, he can pretend he’s inside you; pretend that the sloppy, squelching sounds his fist creates are from your pussy instead. He can pretend that when you moan and whimper, it’s because he's stretching you out perfectly and hitting your spot just right. 

He holds your gaze when he opens his eyes again, completely stops watching the motion of your fingers between your legs so he can strictly observe you, take in your pretty face and how you look when you're feeling good with him. It’s intimate, staring at you like this; it makes him squeeze his cock tighter, the motion of his fist quickly becoming erratic as he drives himself closer to release. 

“Does it– do you feel good?” Changbin asks, because even though he knows, he still wants to hear you say it. “Do you like this? Tell me– please tell me.” 

“Feels so good, Binnie, love this, love you so much– you can’t see it, but I always touch myself with you like this, always make myself cum watching you,” you tell him, and he whimpers from your admission, high-pitched and squeaky. 

“Oh, ‘m so close– will you cum with me? Please, need you to cum with me,” Changbin whines and pleads, every inch of his body trembling as he tries to hold his orgasm back long enough to hear your answer. 

“I will, ‘m gonna cum for you, Binnie, just for you,” you promise, reaching your free hand out to cup his face, keeping your eyes locked with his as you watch each other unravel. Your paces are frantic now, bodies bucking together with every combined motion of your hands between your tangled legs. 

You lean forward to kiss him just as your high takes you, and it sends him right over the edge with you, eyes rolling back before they flutter closed. Noises of pleasure muffled by each other’s lips, his hips jolt as his cum spills over his fist, onto your thighs and the hand you have nestled between them. 

He’s sure some of it got on his comforter too, but he doesn’t care– he just keeps kissing you as he comes down from his high, because despite how breathless he is, it's all he wants to do. “I love you so much,” he tells you after another sweet kiss, and you smile at him, tell him you love him too as you wipe the sweat sticking his curly hair to his forehead away. 

You stay like that the rest of the night; tangled together, hugging each other close and kissing tenderly until Changbin’s fatigue prevents him from doing so any longer. He falls asleep like that, holding you to his body as much as he can; and even when your physical form starts to dissipate with the rising of the sun, you stay right against him.

When he wakes in the morning, he can’t see you anymore, but he knows you’re there. He tells you he loves you, and he smiles when you reply with your 8 little knocks to his bed frame. He talks to you throughout his morning, as he always does, because even if he can’t see you, he knows you’re listening. 

And when he decides to go back to the cemetery to read to the other spirits that still linger there, as he promised them he would, you go with him. He saves your grave for last, and you watch as he puts flowers on your headstone before he settles in to read to you; and even when he can’t see you because the sun is just too bright, he can feel you there, sitting next to him and listening to his poems. 

When he’s finished reading, he’ll feel a sudden touch of cold on his cheek, and he’ll know it’s from you kissing him. He’ll smile, place his hand over the spot and tell you again that he loves you. And when Changbin returns home, and the light of the moon helps you manifest again, he’ll kiss you all over and squeeze you tight, with a million promises of forever on his lips.

[yuanology]

I imagine spanking Satoru in my lap while whispering lewd things about him being a pervert while the only thing he can do is sob and bite my shoulder ,bby is so lost in pleasure he wishes to end up as satisfied as his best friend who is laying asleep in front of him but bby is so new he is ashamed of asking so force him into telling what he wants and then like …corruption kink akksnwkaoaoao😋🐸 idkkkk 🫨

hey ...... i'm sorry in advance for this one. i don't fucking know what this is either. also, this ended up being an entirely separate thing from the original satosugu fic & this is just........ afab!satoru getting his cunt slapped raw while suguru—who's implied to have been fucked by reader earlier—is passed the fuck out. &. i ended up writing this as a teacher!suguru au a.k.a everything goes well au so yeah, don't get confused

despite common first impression, twenty-eight years old gojo "the strongest" satoru had never been touched by anyone before. yes, you heard that right. he was still a virgin; pure and untouched.

before he came to jujutsu tech—before he left home, before he found out about the world, before he realised that he was practically a damn princess stuck in his tower—satoru hadn't even thought of the art of carnal pleasure. he had thought it was just something that happened, not something to indulge himself in.

growing up amongst people his age had been an awakening, that was for certain. his hands started wrapping around himself more often, the collar of his shirt caught between his teeth as he stifled the noise escaping his throat. porn became a commodity, and satoru wasn't exactly oblivious to it, he just never had the time or opportunity to try it.

until you.

satoru let loose another sob, tears streaking down his face. his teeth was caught around the meat of your shoulder, and he could barely breathe around it, much less speak coherently. he still whimpered, "too much."

"you wanted this," you reminded him, your voice low and dirty and so, so fucking real that it's driving him insane. nothing—nothing, no lewd images or videos or even his own imagination—could compare to the feeling of you right now. "you asked me for this, baby."

and you were right. he had asked for this, craving your closeness just as much as he craved the feeling of your hands on him. he had asked you for this, physically and audibly begged you to give him a taste of the things that he had seen and watched all these years.

finally, satoru had thought to himself when he met you properly for the first time. finally, someone who can understand. who can finally give me what i need. it hadn't taken much time before he was on his knees, begging for you to give him everything and so much more. men like gojo satoru didn't make a habit out of begging, but you were an exception amongst many others.

your only response had been a raised, unimpressed eyebrow before you told him that you would consider it. he didn't blame you for it. it wasn't as if your relationship with his own best friend, suguru, was a secret, even if it wasn't official. but satoru had to try.

(and he had asked suguru about it already, kicking at the floorboard underneath him with an out-of-character show of shyness, until suguru had laughed at him, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, "yeah, sure. what's mine is yours and all that—if you can get him to agree, that is." so.)

but when he had asked you to show him what it meant to feel good hurt during sex, he had never expected you to do this to him—to be so mean and so fucking rough, to be so, so desperately cruel to him in ways that he had never seen you do to anyone else.

fuck, satoru thought dazedly. the position—his body bent over your lap, his ass high in the air and his cunt flushes, twitching, and so fucking exposed—had him distinctly dizzy, his head dropping at an awkward angle on the mattress but he didn't care.

he blinked away the tears in his eyes, but the slumped figure of his best friend's body passed out a behind you on the bed remained blurry. how the fuck do you handle this? he wondered.

he let out another whimper when your hand met the meat of his ass, and he could feel it fucking jiggle. he found it so humiliating, but you must think otherwise because you groped his asscheek with an air of smugness. you pried his ass apart, making him grimace when he felt his slick slide down his thigh, betraying him.

"look at you, baby," you cooed, chuckling to yourself. "you're fucking dripping all over the place. you're so desperate for it, huh? pretty virgin like you probably doesn't even know what it's like to be touched like this."

your voice was a light musing, distinctly distant and almost detached in your amusement, but satoru couldn't help but feel raw all over; an exposed nerve ready to be flayed over an open fire. he was sensitive, each inch of his skin a weakness that leaves him feel vulnerable.

"hurts," satoru croaked out miserably, feeling a bit like a fool for saying it. his words are garbled, slurred—almost watery in a way satoru hadn't known was possible before.

"hm." your hand left his hand, making a whine escape the back of satoru's throat. his voice returned to something subdued, something calmer, when he realised that you're simply moving to rest your hand on the small of his back.

"i suppose i can give you mercy," you said, your voice a low drawl that sent goosebumps racing along his skin. "just this once."

satoru couldn't help the whimper that escaped him. even through the heavy haze in his mind, he knew that he couldn't have this without a price. you always demanded an equal pay be returned for the price of your kindness. he had watched you wring dry orgasm after orgasm out of suguru, even when his best friend's body was limp, practically motionless save for the overstimulated twitches and the sobs that escaped suguru's throat, all in exchange for having satoru there with them tonight.

you must notice the sudden shift in his attitude, the way his ass was wriggling in the air almost desperately, because you snickered and your hand pressed him down harder against your lap. fuck, he thinks, feeling himself dripping all over the place at the feeling of you.

"how about this," you offered. "five more spankings, and i want you to count. if you miss one, we'll start over." your hand caressed the swell of his ass, your movements gentle as you soothed the spank marks you had left there earlier.

as much as satoru knew he shouldn't believe you, he still couldn't help the way he sniffled at the feeling and asked, "promise?"

you chuckled, the sound soft. your lips met the skin on his back, right over his spine. "sure, baby," you said. "i promise. just five more, okay? you'll be a good boy, won't you, satoru? you'll stay still for me?"

satoru nodded eagerly, chewing at this lower lip at the sound of your praise. good boy. yes, he could be your good boy. he would always be your good boy.

although he couldn't see it, he knew your smile was there when you said, "good. don't forget to count, okay, baby?" which, really, should have been the first sign of something dangerous looming.

the sound of your hand slapping his skin was promptly followed by a fucking howl that was stripped out of his throat; loud and jagged and surprised and so fucked over that satoru's head throbbed with it.

because jesus motherfucking fuck, you just slapped his cunt.

"count, baby."

satoru could barely even think past the static ringing in his air, stuffing his brain full with cloth, but he thought he might have choked out a whimpering, "one."

your hand moved once again to his cunt, he motion gentler this time. you didn't spank him again but rather, you spread his legs, exposing more of his cunt, and he whimpers in anticipation.

but your fingers only breach the lips of his cunt, spreading his labia apart to look at the slick already dripping the moment his folds were parted. you cooed at him, and satoru felt himself burning with so much fucking feelings that he couldn't even identify a proper source for it.

holy shit.

"four more," you whispered, your thumb dragging along his slit down to his clit. you rubbed it for a moment, causing satoru to whine at the feeling. "just a bit more, okay, baby?"

he didn't know if he nodded, or if he just lay there across your lap—rooted in place and feeling lightheaded, entirely motionless—but you must have found something you wanted to see from him because he could feel you moving again.

anticipating what would come after didn't make it any easier to handle.

your palm met the centre of his cunt perfectly, the tips of your fingers catching his clit, and satoru sobbed. "two," he quickly scrambled to rasp out before you could make him repeat it, before you could make him start all over. "two, that's—" he catches his breath, tongue feeling swollen in his mouth. "that's two."

"good boy."

another slap, making his back arch and his body squirm away from the sensation. the sound was fucking disgusting, even more so now that the slick accumulating on his cunt had created a pillow for your hand to rest on, creating a loud squelching sound that made satoru's toes curl.

"three," satoru whimpered. "it hurts."

"just two more," you reassured him, your fingers grazing over his entrance but never once dipping inside. fuck. "can you do that for me?"

satoru sniffled, but he nodded. "two more," he repeated.

"good boy."

your next slap came in sharp and quick, and he barely managed to blurt out, "four." before he collapses into sobs. his body is slumped, weak and unable to even twitch.

one more, he thought. just one more.

letting out a ragged breath, satoru's voice bleeds into a high keen when he feels you pull back the hood over his clit, exposing the sensitive nerve. the realisation of what you're about to do strikes him a second, too late.

no, you're going to—

your entire fucking palm met his exposed clit, sending up a burning sensation across the length of satoru's spine. "five!" satoru shouted, a little desperate, a lot hurt, equal measures of feeling fucked right out of his mind.

"fuck, that's five. that's—" he couldn't even finish his sentence, already broken off to sobs and whimpers as his entire fucking body trembles at the feeling of it. fuck. every inch of him felt numb; all of the hurt centred on the feeling of your slap on his clit.

the world is a hazy blur of static and cotton and distance for a long moment. when satoru's world comes back into focus, he's still on your lap, but seated now, positioned in a way that saved his cunt from any accidental stimulation. his mouth parted and drool dripping down the corners of your lips, but your hands are on his his back, keeping him close, and you're murmuring sweet nothings to him.

and he must have done something—something right, something wrong—because he feels himself going weightless and then your lips are brushing over the shell of his ear, and you're telling him, "get your rest, satoru. you deserve it."

oh, satoru thought dazedly, feeling the world drift in and out of motion for a long moment. this is why. because for all your cruelty and all your harshness, you were exceptionally gentle in the aftermath. satoru's vision is blurring around the edges, but he feels you all the same—warm and present and there.

"g'night," he thought he might've slurred out.

he might imagine the feeling of your lips on his temple, but he liked to think that it was real all the same.

[velvet4510]

Why Magneto’s Storyline in X-Men: Apocalypse is The Worst (it’s not just Cherik)

Ok I just need to vent because this has been chewing away at my brain for far too long.

Cherik is far from the only reason why Erik’s family plotline in X-Men: Apocalypse is some of the stupidest, sloppiest, and most character-ruining pieces of writing I’ve ever seen. Haters may say “oh you’re just upset because he married someone who wasn’t Charles.” But, like, aside from the fact that the original timeline already established that Erik’s top priority was always the fight for mutantkind and he had no interest in settling down - whether that had anything to do with his feelings for Charles or not - the problems with the Apocalypse writing go WAY beyond just him & Charles:

Erik would never abandon his cause at this point. By the end of DOFP, Erik has just been imprisoned for a full 10 years thanks to the JFK situation. Meaning he has spent a full decade being forcibly inactive in the fight for mutants. And he just learned that all of his fears about humans and mutants came to pass in the future to the level where a time-traveler had to be sent to change the past. And he was so set on averting that future that he tried to kill his friend and the sister of the man he loved, and then made a whole speech on international TV begging for the mutants of the world to fight alongside him. This is the POLAR OPPOSITE of a man who would feel like settling down and walking away from the fight within the next decade. The Sentinels being cancelled did NOT make mutant life easy overnight; Stryker was still up to no good, and there is no way that there weren’t others like him doing the same. Yes, Raven’s actions made a very positive difference, but I think we have enough brain cells to agree that this did not mean things for mutants immediately became sunshine and rainbows to the level where Erik - the most (understandably) paranoid character in the X-Men series - would even consider taking a break, let alone giving up the fight permanently. Knowing what he did about the possibilities of the future would’ve made the Erik we know double down on his commitment to his cause and follow up on his actions in Washington.

Erik wouldn’t risk starting a young family at this moment in his life. Erik was a Holocaust prisoner, his people were massacred, his mom was shot when he couldn’t move the coin, and then Charles was shot when Erik accidentally deflected a bullet into him, and then every member of his Brotherhood save Raven were captured and killed. Not only is this more than enough grief for one character to have, but the man wouldn’t dare risk having a new family of his own when everyone he’s ever loved has gotten hurt (largely because of him), and when he’s an international fugitive. That is no time to risk being selfish, and he would know. He would’ve been the first to realize that a potential spouse and child would also end up killed, and so he’d avoid that altogether. In fact, he wouldn’t even consider it, because, as mentioned, he wouldn’t leave his cause behind. You know, if he was actually in character.

Magda is a human. At this point, Erik hates humans. Again, he has just been imprisoned by humans for 10 years for trying to save a mutant, and he just learned that in the future, humans would’ve wiped out mutants, exactly as he feared. Everything that happened in DOFP would only further inflame his already-passionate hatred of humans. He is not in the mental state to even begin to consider Charles’ philosophy and give a human a chance at a relationship, let alone marry a human.

The family lives in Poland. The country where Auschwitz is. The country where Erik and his family and people was imprisoned, tortured, and executed. The country where Erik had to watch Shaw kill his mother. Basically the LAST country in the freaking WORLD that Erik would want to ever see again, let alone spend the rest of his life in. Erik is fluent in multiple languages - he is shown to easily converse in French and Spanish in First Class - and has been all over the world thanks to his Nazi hunting, so if he really needed to flee the U.S., there were a hundred other countries he could’ve gone to and blended into (Canada, France, Mexico, anywhere in South America, heck, he even could’ve discovered Genosha during this time). But in the original timeline, he didn’t leave the U.S. at all despite being a national fugitive after escaping his plastic prison, and he never did get caught again, so….

Erik’s first meeting with Magda is completely OOC for him. Erik mentions that he told Magda who he was the first night they met and he trusted her then. EXCUSE ME??? Erik Lehnsherr does not trust strangers. Erik Lehnsherr does not tell the complete truth about himself and his past to just anyone; look at how deeply Charles had to probe before Erik opened up to him. This stupid line was obviously shoehorned in just to make their relationship seem like perfect soulmates and thus ensure it is doubly tragic when she gets thrown in the fridge 5 minutes later (more on that in a sec). Obviously the intention is for the audience to go “aww, he instantly trusted her, she instantly accepted him, this is true love…” Give me a break. You’re really telling me that Magda met this stranger one night, found out he was none other than the international fugitive who apparently killed the U.S. president and just tried to kill another president on live TV, and went “oh, no problem, honey, let’s make a baby and live the cottagecore dream!” That’s some BS if I’ve ever heard it, and I’m convinced the writers subconsciously knew it; there’s a reason that is revealed in a throwaway line rather than shown onscreen, because then nobody would’ve bought it.

Fridging. Magda and Nina exist in the movie for one reason and one reason only: To get brutally killed and give Erik even more grief and trauma so that he’ll seek revenge on the entire world, aka do what the plot demands of him, aka have the same journey as he did in First Class (more on that in a sec). That’s all. Neither of them are any more than one-dimensional plot devices. They are not characters at all. Magda isn’t even named in the actual movie (he doesn’t even say her name when she dies) - it’s so obvious they didn’t even know what her name would be when they made the movie. This is textbook fridging, and one of the worst examples of it of all time. It’s all the worse considering that Erik never met Magda in the original pre-DOFP timeline, meaning Magda originally most likely lived a long happy life and died old in bed. But now, she gets fridged just because the writers didn’t know what more to do with Erik. It’s misogyny of the highest level.

A parenthood story for Erik was already set up. DOFP already hinted at Erik being a father, with Peter’s comment about his mom. So if the writers wanted to show Erik as a father, and to include Magda, they already had a solution that would seamlessly flow from the previous film - make Erik and Peter’s relationship one of the centerpieces of the story, and let Magda be Peter’s mom! (You know, like she is in the comics!)

It doesn’t contribute anything new to Erik’s character development. From a screenwriting POV, this is unforgivable. May I remind you that Erik’s entire storyline in First Class revolved around grief and trauma for the loss of his family and people, especially his mom, and seeking revenge for it. Giving him a wife and daughter just so they can get killed too adds absolutely NOTHING to his character development. It’s merely retreading everything that already happened in his arc: he loses his family and goes on a roaring rampage of revenge. Completely superfluous, right down to Charles insisting that there’s good in him beyond the pain. The redundancy becomes apparent even in the dialogue, where Charles literally says “I told you since I first met you there’s good in you too.” The script itself can’t help but point out that all of this has happened before and literally nothing new has been added to Erik’s character arc.

See? It’s not just because of Cherik. Erik’s story in X-Men: Apocalypse is an atrocity in basic screenwriting and character development, on every level. And I will never accept it.

(Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way…)

[6ix9inewiturmom]

I Guess Youre Not a Tough Guy After All.. - Matthew Sturniolo

Summary: You and Matt had been friends for a while but what happens when you catch him staring at you? could you tear down his tough guy persona?

Warnings: SMUTTYY!! P in V, Sub!Matt, very soft Dom!FemReader, Praising, Begging, Spit mentioned, handjob ish, Oral (male receiving)

A/N: GUYSSSS THIS IS MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT SUB MATT… i was scared of writing this at first but please let me know how this turned out, also i wrote this whole fic listening to Older by Isabel Larosa

Psa: USE UR OWN IDEAS DONT STEAL MINE.

Request: Yes by Anon

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Ever since 10th grade, The triplets and I have been attached at the hip. Everything we did was with each other, though we were all friends, we had a little family. Matt and I were closer than the rest of them but he's anti feelings so it's not like I could ever figure out how he felt anyway. His tough guy persona would be the absolute death of me.

Matt and I were watching a movie in the house alone because the triplets each decided they wanted to ‘venture’ out of being up each other's asses all the time. In my peripheral view, I catch Matts's eyes gleaming at me in a way he normally doesn't look at me causing me to look over and make him quickly shoot his head back towards the television. “Staring is rude Matthew,” I say smirking towards him.

“I hate when you call me that and you know it,” he says adjusting his lap “I wasn't staring at you, I was looking out the window towards our neighbors I thought someone was outside”

“Nice cover” I chuckle softly “but the window is more behind us than right beside me” I playfully wink.

“S-shut up, you know what I mean” he stutters out.

“Awe someone nervous now” I giggle softly nudging his shoulder “But you got a little drool on ya chin” I point at his chin.

He quickly wiped his chin checking for drool. “Fuck” he mutters “You know what,” he smirks shifting his body over and beginning to tickle me

I start laughing uncontrollably “Stop Matthew”

“Fine fine” he surrenders moving back to his original position “C-can I tell you something” he nervously says fiddling with his fingers.

“You know you can tell me anything” i shift my body so its facing him.

“I uh- fuck” he struggles to get his words out. “I like you…like more than an uh a friend would, you don't have to say anything back but um I thought I'd tell you before-” I cut him off by crawling on top of his lip and pressing my lips against his passionately.

I softly pull away “I like you too” I smile down at him as his gaze softens. “And I have liked you for a while”

“You- you have?” he stutters.

“wasn’t it obvious” I smile placing my hands on his chest

“Fuck” he breathes out leaning in and kissing me again “You have no idea what you to do to me Y/N” he mutters through the kiss.

My lips make their way down his neck softly nibbling at his soft skin making his breathing become heavier “please” he whispers.

“Please what pretty boy? Use your words love” i whisper back into his neck leaving soft purplish marks on his neck.

“Touch me, something, I- I can't take it,” he says grinding his hips against me.

I lean up smiling at him “You're such a pretty boy, I wish I told you more” I get off his lap placing myself between his legs and balancing on my knees. his gaze on me stayed persistent as I toyed with the hem of his sweatpants he had been lounging around in all day. He lifted his hips up allowing me to free his pent-up cock. I had never seen it before but I could tell all the “small dick” jokes he makes in fact were just jokes. My eyes lit up at it as it sprung free from his boxers with a bit of precum leaking from the tip.

“You see something that you like baby?” a cocky smirk is placed on his face.

I placed my bottom lip in my teeth and nodded. My tongue poked out of my mouth and kitty licked the tip making him groan and throw his head back. “Fuck” he says with almost a whimper in his voice.

My lips wrap around his cock as my head bobs up and down his thick shaft batting my eyelashes up at him with his head resting on the back of the couch as his legs start twitching. “C-close” he chokes out.

I hum in response while I take my hand and jerk the rest of his cock that doesn't fit in my mouth up and down and swirl my tongue around his tip. His hips jerk up as he releases his pent-up orgasm down my throat. “Fuck” he drags out “I've never finished t-that f-fast before” he stutters “That's how much control you have over me”

I bit my lip again smiling at the mess I made of him, I crawled back onto him once again placing a passionate kiss on his lips. “I need you” he mutters.

“How do you need me?” I tilt my head to the side a bit. “You can tell me” I send him a reassuring smile

“I-i-i need to be in you” his voice shakes

I smiled pulling my tank top over my head and shimmying my shorts off my legs throwing them off the couch and leaving me bare on top of him. I guess I chose the right day to wear absolutely nothing under my clothes. “You're so beautiful” he smiles up at me as I place my hands on his shoulders to support myself aligning himself with my desperate hole and slowly sinking down as I feel him touch the deepest part of me. “Oh Matt” I whimper.

My hips begin to work up and down his cock as the room fills with the sounds of my thighs hitting him, and our sounds of pleasure. My hands grip his shoulders for more support as I begin to move faster up and down.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me” he whimpers in my ear.

“You feel so good IN me,” I say as my head falls back and my hips glide my wet pussy all over him making not only me but him as well see stars.

I begin to bounce my hips up and down on his cock as his hands grip my love handles for support leaving crescent shaped dents in my skin.

“I'm so fucking close,” he says burying his head in my neck and softly sucking marks on my neck to hide his whimpers as he becomes closer to his edge.

“Me too pretty boy, hold on a few more alright?” I reassure him grabbing the back of his head in a soft way where I'm hugging him as my pace gets faster and sloppier as I get close myself.

“W-w-where can I finish” he stutters as I feel his legs give out beneath me.

“In me, please?” I say as I grind my hips down to allow him to feel deeper in me.

His hips jerk upwards, and his head goes back as a moan almost a whimper escapes his lips as he coats my walls white releasing into me.

Feeling his release into me made me go faster and harder onto him “S-s-sensitive” he hisses and within a few seconds a white ring formed around the base of his cock as my cum dripped down along his cock and I slowly pulled off of him and plopped down next to him.

“You did so good” I smiled moving the loose hair from his eyes back so I could see him better.

“Thank you” he blushed pulling me to his side “you don't understand how many nights in my life I dreamed of this moment” he breathed out.

“I guess you're not a tough guy after all eh?” i giggled softly trying to catch my breath from my previous orgasm.

“Oh shush,” he says flustered trying to cover his face

“You pretty when you blush Matthew,” I say lifting my head up and kissing his cheek making him get flustered a little more.

“I think we might wanna restart the movie” he chuckles “and that's definitely not the last time we're doing this either” he looks down at me smiling.

“And we might wanna get changed so Nick and Chris don't walk in on us” I nervously laugh

"Great idea," He exclaimed with laughter as we helped each other get dressed.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N PT 2: SO this was supposed to be out earlier but the triplets went live on twitch and i spent the last 4 1/2 hours watching them and not finishing this LMFAO also i love writing sub matt.. LOWKEY WAS NOT A FAN OF SUB MATT BUT I LOVED IT 😫

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

PHOENIX.

DROP ANOTHER MONKIE!READER

AND MY LIFE

IS YOURS /np /silly

Headcannons - that I was originally planning on posting this along with "Goodbye"

Reader does have some abilities in this one! Specifically, I want to make her a healer and a nature type.

She has learned about all kinds of plants that heal those around her. She has also learned how to speed up the growth of these plants.

She is very stubborn and I mean VERY. When she decides she's going to do something she will stop at nothing to actually do it. (Not that her new mates plan to let her hehe~)

Reader is a monkey demon, and as such, she actually goes into a 'heat' where she is very fertile. As well as gives off pheromones to attract a mate.

Luckily for her on Flower Fruit Mountian those who don't want to attract a mate are allowed to go into a women only cave. A separate cave that men aren't allowed into. (Even though some women mate together they aren't affected by these pheromones)

Spirit's family absolutely adores Reader, not only because she protected their daughter/sister but because they like her personality.

Spirit's brother actually duals with Reader and proceeds to loose (he's young and inexperienced as a fighter)

Sun and Mac witness this fight, and both think Reader looks absolutely beautiful when she fights.

Wukong and Macaque still attempt to do all the courting ceremonies right even after refusing to let her leave. They'll give her gifts, challenge other suitors, provide for her, and keep her safe.

And if Reader tries to escape? Well, they have many means of keeping her on the island and right where they want her. This duo will do anything to keep their darling safe and in their arms.

They will dress her in the finest gowns, gift her all the jewels that she wants. They will gift her anything she wants, whether it's as simple as a flower or someone's life. They will gladly give her anything to make her happy.

Unfortunately, there is one thing that she isn't able to get them to listen to her on. Other than her freedom. A choice that Wukong makes alone disregarding both of his mates' decisions. He convinces Macaque to join this decision, but Reader? No, she will fight and cry for him to change his mind.

After all- no one is able to defeat The Celestial Realm.

Reader: Please don't do this! You'll doom your whole kingdom.

Wukong: Oh my love when I win I will gift you anything you want. Just you wait and see.

Macaque: We'll be back soon darling.

Reader: Please. Please don't do this. I'm begging you.

Is this what you wanted, Anon? I wasn't quite sure due to no specifications on the ask. It was definitely fun to write though.

I'm currently debating weather Reader is going to survive this? Or if I'm going to push her into the reincarnation cycle? Hmm, the angst would be lovely.

If anyone has thoughts, send them my way! Comments, asks and heck I try to read all the reblogs too. Please and thank you 😘

[hotheadedhero]

In Unrequited Love - Part 2

AN: When I say that writing this part had me feral, I don't mean it lightly. This part ended up being over 2000 words, blimmin heck. It had me losing sleep, losing sanity, and my grasp on reality and going insane. All in good ways of course! It got angstier than I originally intended but, man, I'm a sucker for it. I think you guys are too ;)

Part 1 - Part 3

Warning: angst for reader's lacking self-preservation, silly dummy, but Donnie is also a dumb-dumb, so you're as bad as each other really.

Donatello x Reader

Every explanation you can come up with to try and disregard your feelings for the tallest of the turtle brothers has only been met with more anguish. First, you theorised it to be some kind of miscommunication with your emotions, that you had merely misread a deep level of friendship as a new crush. Then, you tried to reason with yourself that it was a rebound - a re-focussing of such feelings onto someone else who likes spending time with you. Neither holds enough weight to get out of this funk, however. You’re chain-bound. 

Then begged the question: what are you to do about it? Realistically, what can you do about it? Not once have you had the courage to even try and say something to Casey, so what makes you think this is any different? If anything, it’s worse. Not only because Donatello is so helplessly in love with April, but because you are so much more hopelessly in love with him. Even the way you used to feel about Jones wasn’t this overwhelming. 

You hate it. You hate it so damn much and, yet, you can’t stop yourself from spending most of your free time in that forsaken laboratory. There’s a saying that keeps coming to mind whenever you find yourself aiding him with inventions and experiments: fool me once, shame on you - fool me twice, shame on me. You certainly feel the fool and more so after a particular incident. A word used candidly but it felt like an incident at the time. The details are foggy but you believe it had something to do with the daughter of The Foot - Karai - and a new robotic toy of hers. Donnie had come in and saved the day, earning a kiss on the cheek from his crush by the end of it. To say that it stung is an understatement.

Nothing appeared to change after that day other than the joy your new infatuation must have been riding on since. You hadn’t even taken note of how it’s affected you. You don’t take notice of it at all. Yes, you still regularly visit the lab but less so to help out. As of late, it is you who is being helped. A habit which has become the norm where the purple-clad turtle finds himself patching you up. Almost every time you see him, there’s a new bump, bruise, or scratch that needs tending to and every time he does what he can to make it better.

Today is no different. If anything, it has to be the worst of your afflictions that he’s seen to date. The first few times were viewed in mild hilarity but he’s not finding these frequenting successions of being your first aider funny anymore. He currently has you sat in his desk chair, knelt down and worriedly looking over your ankle. The pigment of your skin is only slightly discoloured but it’s clear from the way you hobbled in a few moments ago that it can’t handle much weight right now. Carefully, he holds a cold compress against the affected area, earning a jolted hiss from your person. He winces himself and mutters a quiet apology. Some silence follows until he decides he needs to know exactly what you did to warrant such a bad injury. 

“What happened this time?” he asks as he continues to inspect the contusion, making sure nothing is broken beneath. 

“I just slipped whilst I was coming down the ladder,” you admit casually. “Think there’s been some rain recently, so it’s my own fault for not wearing grippier shoes.”

Your answer is marginally concerning for two reasons: it hasn’t rained for at least a few days now and he’s seen the way you work - how careful you are when you’re helping him with mechanics or measuring various chemicals. This isn’t like you. Retrospectively, he hasn’t known you long but he likes to think you’ve hung out enough for him to discern that you aren’t typically this clumsy. He’s even detected a drop in your mood. You don’t crack out as many jokes with him, nor have you spoken much about Casey. The band of his mask creases over his furrowing brows and he slowly looks up at you.

“Is everything okay?” he inquires carefully, mindful of the potentially sensitive question. “You seem… out of sorts lately. If it’s something to do with Casey-”

“It’s not Casey,” you interrupt, rather abruptly he notices. Sighing, you quickly attempt to correct yourself and slump into the seat. “I dunno. It might be. I think I’m just done with all the love stuff at this point.” 

You end on a bitter cadence, one that has Donatello sinking. His heart breaks knowing that yours has been taken away and trampled on by this mess. It well and truly hurts him to see you this way, to hear that you’re energy has been depleted because of this. Then, like a jab to the gut, it all comes to fruition. The ugly canvas decorated with the hard, cold facts paints this horrifying image before his mind: your physical pain is a manifestation of that from within. Whether it’s intentional or not, it’s still an alarming prospect. Swallowing past the nausea permeating and rising into his throat, he takes a moment to reflect on how best to help you. He doesn’t want to be the one to tell you that you should keep pursuing that ragged hockey puck-lover but he also doesn’t want to see you in such disarray. He can’t bear the thought that you might get hurt worse than this.

With a steadying breath, he takes your hands in his own and smiles up at you sympathetically. “Don’t say that. You never know. There’s still time for things to change in your favour.”

If only he knew how much that gaze of his torments you; how his hands make yours burn cold. You silently beg of him to not look at you with such warmhearted affection, that the very thing he believes to have ruptured your heart is not Casey but is him. Part of you wishes that you could get angry and blame this on him for being so sweet, funny, and an overall joy to be around but that wouldn’t be fair. The reality is that you can’t blame anyone, not even yourself. Feelings can’t be forced nor can they be changed. Your eyes drop to the two sets of hands that rest on your lap, knowing you can’t stand to stare into those puppy-dog maroons much longer. 

Unenthused, you hum, “Guess so. Seems like you’re a little more on the hopeful side after that kiss on the cheek, huh?”

He glances away with an awkward smile. Everyone may assume that his head must have exploded when that happened and it would have done were it not for a certain change of circumstance. April kissing his cheek was ironically what led to him realising he loves you. At first, he was entirely confused. Why didn’t he get that round of butterflies? The heart palpitations? There wasn’t even a wild glee that he would have expected with something that monumental happening. Maybe there wasn’t supposed to be. He would have to look into it, he thought, and test it to figure out what was going on. An experiment that didn’t even make it to the drawing board. 

No more than an hour later, Donnie’s tending to a burn on your arm after you spilt boiling coffee on yourself; the first domino to fall in this onset of injuries he would serve medical attention to. Seeing you hurt struck something fierce within him. He had this sudden urgency to protect you, care for you, and look after you. Then, followed a quick daydream of holding you in his arms, close to his body and safe from any and all extraneous variables that could threaten you. It flashed before his eyes with such volatile ammunition he almost stumbled over the dressing work he had been so carefully wrapping around your forearm. That’s when he realised and, boy, he couldn’t look you straight in the eye for the remainder of that day. 

Perhaps, in a way then, your words ring true. He likes to believe he’s more hopeful. He likes to think he stands a better chance with you with how often you hang out and how well you get along. That’s why he doesn’t want you to give up on love. Regardless of where your sights are set, if you’re done with love, that’s his chance gone completely. He wants to keep that hope alive in you as well. Even if it’s for someone else, he doesn’t want you to be devoid of that sensation. It can hurt but it’s still a beautiful experience in his eyes. 

Realising your smaller fingers are still overlapped in his, he blushes - a blush you assume to be the result of your conversation. He finally withdraws his grasp lest he risks you experiencing the backlash of his suddenly clammy palms. It’s about time that he secures your ankle in a bandage, anyway. 

Ignoring your question altogether, he laughs nervously and clears his throat. “Well, the good news is that nothing is broken. Most of the fall was taken by your ligaments, though, so you won’t be able to walk properly for a few days. My recommendation is you rest at home in the meantime.”

You toss your head back into the chair and groan out lethargically, “If only I could replace it with a robotic one, hm?” Along with your overly attached, love-sick heart. “Would make things easier.”

“As long as you know to come here for repairs. Robotic limbs need just as much care and attention as organic ones.”

Glancing away, your lips turn up at the sides bashfully. There’s a smile. A genuine smile. He’s been waiting all day - a few days - to see one of those. What a dork. You can only hope your ankle does a fast job of getting better. At least that means no school for a few days but it’s still a bother. Simultaneously, that means no visits to the lair until you’re healed up. The thought is upsetting but you can’t help thinking it might do you some good; a bit of distance to calm the erratic, painful ache of the suffering muscle that sits behind your ribcage. Distance and distraction. On the topic of distractions, a particular object of interest has caught your eye from across the room: a small, rectangular mound hidden beneath a thin layer of cloth.

“Hey, what’ve you got under this?” 

You don’t even wait for an answer, opting to propel yourself over to his desk with your good foot. The office chair glides along the floor and, before he can stop you, you’re already pulling the tarp from this mystery item. For someone who’s just injured their ankle, you’re annoyingly quick to feed curiosity’s temptation. Your snoopiness would reveal a narrow box, that which you open too, further revealing a slim sliver of chain with a charm sitting comfortably in the centre of it. Said charm is a purple turtle and you don’t have to think hard to figure out that this is a gift for a certain red-head. It’s magnificently crafted if not a little corny but you can commend his boldness.

“I’m sure April will like it,” you say sweetly enough that it masks the disdain bubbling in your throat. With a quiet sigh, you return the necklace to its resting place, fingertips brushing over the top of the box. “If she doesn’t, though, I… think it’s beautiful.”

Truthfully, that’s the only appraisal he’s looking for, especially seeing as he’s made it for you. He should take the opportunity whilst he’s riding on that high. You like it. He should just say that it’s for you. Get it out there and proclaim his feelings if not at least allude to them but the melancholy behind your eyes chokes him out of trying. It’s not the right time. Your heart is fragile - far too fragile to be here any longer, you’ve decided. 

“Thanks again for helping out,” you mumble, swallowing past a lump whilst you attempt to stand. “Better make a start on resting, huh?”

Quickly, he holds an arm out in case you need to grab onto it, face scrunched and brows raised from the middle. “H-Hey, wait! Can I at least walk you back home? That manhole cover is gonna be a struggle let alone the ladder to get to it.”

Cursing the kindness of this tall terrapin would be cruel but he just makes it so darn difficult to not fall more victim to your feelings. You would love nothing more than to take his offer. Wholehandedly, you would within a quarter of a second. There’s just one teeny tiny problem, however. 

“I appreciate the offer, Donnie, but it’s still daytime,” you remind him. 

In his overzealousness, he had missed that fact. A seemingly obvious detail that he wouldn’t typically forget were he not so worried about you. He is not letting you go back to the surface alone in your current condition - both the physical and mental. Wishing to be human isn’t a naturally occurring thought but it’s currently a prevalent desire. How is he meant to ensure a safe trip home if he can’t go topside? Just as begins formulating a plan, a certain dark-apparelled miscreant passes the lab. Donnie can’t believe he’s actually going to do this but it seems like the only option. 

“Casey.” He raises a hand dilatorily to catch the teenager’s attention. “Any chance you could escort (Y/n) home?”

Casey takes one look at your wrapped ankle and throws out two finger guns with a wink. “Jones is on the case.”

He understood the assignment quickly enough at least. Hooray for him. Donatello is prompt to smile when you cast him an estranged glance. You reckon he’s trying to wingman you, which is almost hilarious. If only he knew. Your “escort” temporarily donates you his hockey stick as a makeshift crutch and places a hand between your shoulder blades as extra leverage whilst walking you out. Donnie may have been lying to himself before. He doesn’t want you to be devoid of love but he doesn’t want your love to be directed elsewhere like he had initially tried to come to terms with. It should be him. He wants it so badly to be him. Pitifully, he watches you leave, hearing Casey remark something along the lines of “you’re in safe hands” before the two of you are out of earshot. Such friendly, flirtatious comments from your prior crush would have had you in a tizzy but, weirdly, you find comfort in them. It’s a short moment of silence for your incessant pining. 

Now, all there is to do is hope that your forced rest isn’t met with bedridden wallowing for the oncoming days.

I know the first kiss on the cheek moment doesn't really fit with how it goes in the show but that's the point of fanfiction, is it not? :P Hope you enjoyed! I'm gonna lie down now, holy jeebus

[theemissuniverse]

“TROUBLED HEARTS” LIU KANG X SORCERER FEM!READER

SUMMARY : You are Quan Chi’s daughter. A powerful Cambion (half human/half demon) sorcerer. After you find out your father killed your mother, you join Earthrealm’s side. Liu Kang wins the Mortal Kombat tournament. This is two weeks after the tournament

A/N : “havent I seen this before???” Yes. This was originally with my OC Mal but I’m making it to a reader now because well, it’s gonna do better if I make it into a reader

A/N : THIS WAS SO ANNOYING TO WRITE IN SECOND PERSON. Y’ALL BETTER LIKE THIS UP (there may be mistakes bc I literally had to rewrite this)

WARNINGS : (MDNI), praise, f receiving oral, fingering, probably some other stuff I forgot

MASTERLIST

A lot of people questioned why Liu Kang was in love with you. A lot. You were polar opposites. Liu Kang was humble while you were cocky. Liu Kang was nice while you were cold. Liu Kang didn’t exactly have a sense of humor and you were one of the funniest people anyone could ever know.

Liu Kang couldn’t describe the connection he had with you. It was like everything with you made sense. It was also very obvious because Liu Kang always treated you with love and care (even though you didn’t need it.) All felt right in the world when he was surrounded by you.

Not only were you polar opposites, you came from different worlds. You were Quan Chi’s daughter. A Cambion (half human and half demon) who was a powerful sorcerer. You first met when you were sent on a mission to kill Liu Kang.

Kung Lao could see the puppy dog eyes on his friend’s face and couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He was annoyed that Liu Kang hadn’t made a proper move on you yet. “She’s literally standing right over there.”

You were at the temple, helping train someone. You had been on Earthrealm’s side since the tournament and you finding out that Quan Chi killed your mother. You typically helped trained people since you were the most skilled fighter.

You were also injured from the fight you had with your own father. You were weaker than you once were so you had to be careful with fighting.

Now that you were here Liu Kang had the perfect opportunity and he was blowing it which made Kung Lao irritated to no end. “You guys haven’t had a normal conversation since the tournament ended.”

Liu Kang thought it was best to keep his distance. It wasn’t because he was ashamed of his feelings. He more so just thought that you wouldn’t feel the same way and he didn’t want to go through that heartbreak. “What do you want me to do Kung Lao?”

“I don’t know? Do something about it! I’m sick of you moping around here.”

Liu Kang just sighed. “I don’t want to ruin what friendship we have.”

That’s when an idea popped in Kung Lao’s mind. He smirked at the thought of it. “You’re right.” He tapped Liu Kang’s chest. “It probably wouldn’t work out between the two of you anyway.”

Liu Kang did not expect this. In fact, he was confused. Kung Lao was just begging for Liu Kang to “make a move” and all the sudden the idea was shot down like that. “What do you…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence because Kung Lao was already walking towards you. You had finished training with the woman. “Not better than me but you know - you still kicked ass.”

The woman who was used to your comments rolled her eyes. “Thanks, (Y/N).”

She walked away. You dapped your forehead with the towel looking for sweat when you had seen Kung Lao walk over to you. “If you’re coming over to train - I will kick your ass.”

Kung Lao chuckled. After the tournament, the two of you had became really good friends so it was normal for you to joke around like this. “Please. You could not beat me if you tried.”

“Watch out, Lao. That pride will get you in trouble.”

Liu Kang watched as the two of you shared a laugh. He raised a brow. He didn’t understand what Kung Lao’s intentions were but he was going to find out. He made sure to come closer to them but not too close where he could be detected.

“Pride is my biggest strength.” Kung Lao looked you up and down, making it very obvious he was checking you out. “I feel that it is yours too.”

You noticed but did not say anything. If it was anybody that you had liked - for example - Liu Kang - you would have instantly flirted but you did not view Kung Lao romantically. Sure, he was an attractive man. A very attractive man but he was not the man for you. “You felt right.” You started to walk towards the bench so you could get a sip of your water. “As much joy your company brings me…” You spoke with sarcasm. “You did not come here to talk about Kombat.”

Kung Lao pulled off his smirk. “I like direct women. All right. I feel as though we have not gotten a chance to catch up since the end of the tournament.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued by this statement. Kung Lao had confidence, yes but he was never really the type to out right flirt with a woman. Not unless Johnny Cage was possessing him. “Oh? And why would you like to catch up?”

“Isn’t it obvious what I’m asking?”

“I like direct men.” You threw back in his face. You were interested. Not in him but the way Kung Lao was going about this. Something had just felt off. “So spit it out.”

“I like you. You’re one of the most powerful women I’ve ever met. You’re beautiful, smart and are the only one that can match my wit. Friends doesn’t feel enough with you.”

Liu Kang gritted his teeth. He knew what Kung Lao was doing. Liu Kang was a patient man. A very patient man. Not only that but it was very hard to invoke jealousy within him. Very hard.

Not with you though. Maybe it was because he thought deep down with his flirtatious nature that you would want Kung Lao.

It just made him mad because Kung Lao was like a brother to him.

You tilted your head. A quick scoff left your mouth. Not only were you uninterested - you were also upset. From the very moment you had met Liu Kang, all you had done was flirt with the man. All that effort you put into him and his best friend decides to make a move on you?

“You? Kung Lao? Want me? The woman you haven’t even showed the slightest bit of interest to until recently? Me?” You took a couple step towards him. “Scratch that. You believe that you - Kung Lao - are worthy enough to even get with someone like me?” A laugh erupted from you. “You are even lucky you are breathing the same air as me.”

Kung Lao wasn’t going to back down though. Not until Liu Kang manned up and stopped him. “Fight for it.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly confused. “Fight for it?”

“You win, I’ll leave you alone about it. I win, you have to let me take you on a date.”

The proposition made Liu Kang’s eyes light up. No. You were already weak. Yes, you were in shape to train with people that did not know Kombat. Kung Lao was skilled in Kombat meaning he could actually injure you.

It wasn’t even about Kung Lao flirting with you anymore. It was about your safety. Liu Kang quickly stepped in.

“Fight? Absolutely not.”

You turned to the new voice in the conversation. Liu Kang. He had been avoiding you for some time now which made you completely annoyed. You had no interest to deal with him right now. “Were you listening in on our conversation?”

Kung Lao started to chime and when he turned to his friend. “Yes, Liu Kang. Were you?”

Liu Kang rolled his eyes slightly before responding, ignoring it. “Your father weakened you. The fight is not on the same playing field. You could get hurt.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Relax Liu-Liu. I’m a powerful sorcerer. I got this.” You turned back to Kung Lao. “Let’s do this.”

Kung Lao smirked. The two of you got into your fighting positions. Liu Kang shook his head, knowing this was a dumb idea.

You threw the first punch. Kung Lao blocked it with ease. Kung Lao threw the second but you had also blocked it with ease. The pattern continues until you did a spin kick, kicking him in the stomach. He doesn’t knock down to the ground.

You motion your hands for Kung Lao to come at you. Kung Lao jumps when you tried to leg sweep him. He goes to kick you but you do a backflip to dodge it. You hit Kung Lao in the chest but he hits you back, knocking you on your back.

You hissed in pain. Liu Kang shook his head. “Alright. You two made your point.”

“I didn’t concede.” You got back up quickly. This time Kung Lao makes it a point to motion for you to come at him.

You try to kick him. He quickly catches your leg and throws you. You do a flip in the air and lands on your feet. The two of you go punch for punch, blocking. That was until you smacked Kung Lao across the face, so hard that his nose started to bleed.

Kung Lao felt his nose. You smirked at him. He then took his hat off. You knew that now he would use the hat as his weapon. “Kung Lao…” Liu Kang warns.

He doesn’t listen. He tried to jab you with it. You dodged it. He did it again and you quickly dodged. He tried to sweep your feet with it but you jumped over it. That’s when he went for your stomach. He slightly sliced your chest and pushed you to the ground.

“Stop!” Liu Kang yelled.

Kung Lao held the hat to her chin and made you look at him. “Say it.”

You hated that he had won but you didn’t have anymore fight in you. Liu Kang was right. You were weak. “I concede.”

Kung Lao lowered the hat. “By the Elder Gods.” Liu Kang mumbled and went to your side. “Are you alright?”

You cracked your neck as if you didn’t receive a scratch on you. “I’m fine, Liu Kang.”

“Let me see.” Liu Kang lifted your shirt slightly. A big slash was on your chest. He angrily turned to Kung Lao. “I told you to stop.”

Kung Lao rolled his eyes at Liu Kang’s reaction (even though this is what he wanted.) “She’s the most powerful sorcerer. She’ll be fine.” He turned to you. “And looks like you owe me a date.”

“I guess so…” You mumbled before standing up from the ground.

Liu Kang was beyond mad. Was he annoyed about Kung Lao flirting with you? Very much. All that flew out the window when you got hurt. Not only that but Kung Lao had zero feelings for you so he was just toying with you. For what? For Liu Kang to admit his feelings for you?

“Are you out your mind?” Liu Kang questioned him. “She is not fully healed yet. Now, you delayed her to heal more. For what? To go on a date with a woman you don’t even want to have?”

You raised an eyebrow at what Liu Kang said. You were confused. What was he exactly talking about?

Kung also wasn’t mad. This was all part of his plan. He had to play like he was though. “Oh, because you seem to care about her. Haven’t you been ignoring her for weeks?”

“That is not the point.”

“It is, Liu Kang. I don’t understand why you care so much. Explain to me - no - explain to the both of us why you care so much.”

Liu Kang took in a deep breath. He was usually a patient man. A man that didn’t get so easily bothered but the overwhelming feeling of love was suffocating his heart. He loved you. This was more than being the persona of the “humble easy going monk.” “I won’t let you mess with her feelings.”

“I won’t if you say it.”

You waved your hand as if you were in a classroom. “Um! Hello! Standing right here!”

Liu Kang glared at him Kung Lao. How dare he try to get him to admit his feelings on his time? “No.”

“Say it.” Kung Lao demanded.

Liu Kang looked at Kung Lao then at you. You looked beyond confused and you were about to be even more confused. Instead of saying anything, Liu Kang cupped your face and kissed you.

You stood there in absolute shock. Kung Lao’s eyes had widen. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. Liu Kang quickly pulled away. Kung Lao smirked before crossing his arms. “Or you can do that.”

You looked between the two men. “Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on.”

No turning back now. “Kung Lao asked you on a date to get me to confess my feelings for you.”

“Annnd it worked. I am a genius. Sorry about the scratch (Y/N). I’ll leave you two to it.” Kung Lao started to walk away. He turned around like he remembered something. “Oh and (Y/N). I wouldn’t date you if you were the last woman on Earth.”

You flipped him off and he laughed. Kung Lao finally walked away and Liu Kang signed. “Come here.” He took your hand and led you all the way to his room. He helped you sit on the bed.

Liu Kang got his medic supplies and walked back over to you. “Lift up your shirt.”

“Do I have to lift it up or is Kung Lao going to come up with a ridiculous plan to convince me to take off the shirt?”

Liu Kang felt guilt in his bones. He did not want you to find out his feelings for you the way you did. Not at all. You deserved better than that. Liu Kang sat on the bed. “I’m sorry about all this…Kung Lao had no right to manipulate your feelings.”

It was at that moment you let out a laugh. “Me? Feelings for Kung Lao? Not even in an alternate timeline. I’m so glad I don’t have to go on a date with him.”

Liu Kang did feel relieved that you had no feelings for Kung Lao. You just took off her shirt instead of lifting it up. You were the most attractive woman he had ever met.

He started to treat your wound. Silence filled the air. Even though you were relieved the date with Kung Lao wasn’t real, she was still pissed off about one thing. “Why didn’t you man up and tell me you had feelings for me before?”

Here the conversation was going. The talk Liu Kang was dreading about. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I thought if I confessed my feelings for you…you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

You understood. You too, despite your sarcastic quips, appreciated the friendship you had with Liu Kang and you didn’t want to take it away. “I come with a lot of baggage, Liu. Daughter of Quan Chi. Half demon and half human. Mad all the time. I mean in Kitana’s words I’m Earthrealms biggest problem.”

It was no secret that Kitana and you didn’t get along. Nobody really understood why but it was clear that the two of you didn’t like each other’s character.

The mention of Kitana made Liu Kang sigh. “Kitana does not know you like I know you. I love everything about you. All parts. Even the dark ones.” He cups your face, wanting you to take in everything he was saying. “There is not a line in the world that I wouldn’t cross for you. Not a time in your life I would not be there for you. Not a thing in this universe that can pull me away from you. You have been there for me when I could not be there for myself and I cherish that. I cherish all parts about you.”

Growing up in the Netherrealm and Earthrealm switching between both worlds, you hadn’t got much love. Ever. You were so scared of love. That it would ruin you. The way Liu Kang spoke sounded like he had all the love for you in the world. And that made up for everything.

It took a lot for you to cry. A lot. Somehow tears were falling down your face. “Are you trying to get me to fall in love with you? Because it’s working.”

Liu Kang chuckled a little. He gently wiped away your tears. “Love is kind, love is not selfish. It is beautiful. Love is not cowardice or cruel. Love is the very thing in the universe that binds you to that person. I want to be your person.”

Anything that came out of Liu Kang’s mouth, he made it sound good. “I want you to be my person too.”

Liu Kang’s eyes darted down to your lips. He licked his lips. He wanted nothing more than to taste your lips. Give in to it.

You decided to make the first move. You cupped the left side of Liu Kang’s face and kissed him. Liu Kang didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. It was like paradise. True and utter paradise.

You moved your lips in sync with each other. The kiss easily started to turn more sloppy but the passion was still there. You pushed Liu Kang lightly on the bed which he accepted. You got on top of him and began kissing all over his neck. Liu Kang moaned slightly at this. He shouldn’t have been shocked at how fast things were heating up. This was you.

He wanted to continue. He truly did but you were injured. “(Y/N), you’re still injured.”

Tou pulled away from his neck and looked at him directly in his eyes. “Which is precisely why I need a reward for all the bullshit I’ve been dealing with.” Your hands started to travel down to his black sweats. You started to rub him through the pants. “And I like this reward.”

Liu Kang didn’t think he would get used to her straightforwardness. You quickly leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Then at least lay back and let me do all the work.”

“Fine. Take the fun out of it.” You flopped on his bed dramatically causing Liu Kang to let out a chuckle.

It wasn’t just because of your injury. He just wanted to please you. He got on top of you and unbuttoned your pants before pulling them down. Next to go was your underwear.

You were not expecting for Liu Kang to go in between your legs and start sucking your clit. You gasped at the the sudden pressure and tilted your head back.

Unfortunately, because you were so dominant you had never gotten the pleasure of getting eaten out. Not in your 2,000 years of living. So, this was a new experience with you. It also put you into a different position. A submissive one.

Liu Kang held your thighs tightly in place so you wouldn’t run away. He continued to devour your pussy like it was his favorite desert. Like it was made for him.

“Oh my fucking god. Yes. Yes. Oh god. Liu.”

It only made him work harder knowing he was pleasing you. He continued to suck your sensitive bud until you started to pull on his hair. He liked it but he took it as a sign that you needed a break from him sucking so he pulled away for a moment. He used his two fingers to start rolling your clit in circles in a certain speed.

“Oh shit. Oh my fucking god.”

Liu Kang gently kissed your breasts that fitted tightly in your bra. “You look so good like this, my love.” You were actually embarrassed by how submissive you felt. You started to cover your face. He quickly pushed your hands away with the hand that was free. “Don’t cover yourself. I want to see the most beautiful woman in the world cum on my fingers.”

Oh. My. God. Where the hell did this Liu Kang come from? You moaned at his words and cupped your breasts out of instinct. “Fuck, yes.”

Liu Kang rubbed in harsher and harsher circles knowing you could take it. He watched her as she fell apart on his bed. He felt his dick grow in his sweat pants and he practically thanked himself for wearing sweats instead of pants.

You felt yourself about to come undone. How the hell were you already about to cum? Usually it took you thirty minutes. An hour tops. “Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m about to cum.”

Liu Kang didn’t dare change his pace. “That’s it. You’re almost there.”

You tried to pull Liu Kang’s away. “I want to cum with you inside of me.”

Liu Kang couldn’t help but chuckle as he kissed you neck. He didn’t move his fingers from playing with her your. “Darling, you act like we can’t keep going after you cum right now.”

Because you stopped it slightly, your high had slowed up. “Oh my god. I’m so close.” You gripped Liu Kang’s arm for support.

“Breathe in and out.” He told you. “I got you.” He felt you dig into his arms with your nails. He loved the pain.

You listened to Liu Kang and breathed in and out. Your pleasure was overwhelming. You had never felt like this before and especially never this fast. “Fuck. Please. Please. Don’t stop.”

“You can do it. I know you can. Give it to me, my love.”

Liu Kang’s words edged you to the point of no return. “Oh yes. Liu Kang. Liu. Yes. I’m cumming. Fuck.”

Liu Kang felt your clit move and more juices flowed on fingers. He rode your orgasm out until you couldn’t anymore. Then he placed the fingers in his mouth and tasted you. “I did not know you were so nasty.” You told him.

He laughed a little at her words. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy it? Oh my god. No one has ever got me to cum that fast.”

Liu Kang smiled at you. “I’m glad.” He leans over you and places a small kiss on your lips. “All I want is to make you feel good.”

“You know I never had anyone go down on me.”

“They were not real men then.”

You laughed. You started reaching to his pants. “It’s your turn.”

He shook his head. “Another time. I just want to lay down with you right now.” Liu Kang covered you with the blanket and kissed you softly on the lips.

You were about to kiss him back but a quick knock came at the door and then the door opened.

“Hey, Liu Kang, Raiden wants us to-“ When Kung Lao walked in and seen the scene before him all he could do is laugh. “Wait a minute-“

You weren’t easily embarrassed but Liu Kang was. He face palmed himself as he knew he would not hear the end of it. “Oh no…”

“We’re you two…” Kung Lao trailed off.

“Technically he was having a meal-“ You spoke but was quickly cut of by Liu Kang.

“(Y/N)!”

“What? He asked.”

Kung Lao had laughed again. “Oh my god. And who’s to say I am not the greatest match maker of all time?”

Liu Kang motioned for him to get out. “Yes, yes, yes. Now go.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going. Just don’t let the monks find out.”

You raised a brow confused. “Why?”

With that, Kung Lao turns over to Liu Kang. “She doesn’t know?”

Liu Kang scratched the back of neck before explaining. “You swear to chastity when you become one.”

Your eyes widen at this statement. “Like no sex at all? That sounds like literal hell.”

“Well, you two have fun. And next time just lock the door.” Kung Lao says before leaving the room, shutting the door.

Liu Kang flops on his back. You looked down at him. “Did I make you become a bad monk?”

“The thoughts were in my head before it was done.” Liu Kang simply told you before bringing you closer to his chest.

He finally did it. He finally got the girl.

[justlulu]

🔥Sex with the Peaky Blinder boys🔥

I need to give @greatlydelirious credit for the inspo, HI nice to meet you!, your ‘Peaky Blinders dicks description’ was such a blessing ;) and you set me in the mood to write some smut as I originally did so thank u for that.🌷💕

⚠️my very PERSONAL opinion ⚠️

Tommy Shelby

Tommy fucks like he works: well placed thrusts, steady rhythm. He’s the type to go straight to the point, not leaving too much room for foreplay, he does his job and he does it good, but he certainly knows how to use his tongue when he’s in the mood. Not a big fan of dirty talk, well not a fan of talking to begin with, he will let his kisses and caresses speak for him. Missionary and HE HOLDS YOUR HANDS THE WHOLE TIME!

Alfie Solomons

The man is a savage. Sex with him is hot and messy: he likes to switch positions and have you in as much ways as he can, but there’s nothing he loves more than laying down on his back and letting you sit on him and do your thing. Especially after a long, stressful day at work, he loves to hand over the reins and watch you bounce on his cock. He also enjoys making you believe that little you is capable of overpowering him, allowing you to hold his arms or press him down on the mattress. He lets you play a bit, before easily rolling over and pinning you under his gigantic body, a hand cupping the top of your head to keep you still as he proceeds with a hard pounding. He’s loud, not engaged in dirty talk, but grunts a lot and curses even more.

Luca Changretta

BDSM! He’s kinky as hell, has a power exchange fixation and a dominant mindset. He’s a boss after all, he likes to take control. Sex with him is never just a quick fuck. He likes to take his time, set the mood, get you ready. He will take a sit, matchstick in his mouth, and make you undress for him, give him a show, present yourself to him. He craves your submission in all of its forms: kneeling at his feet with his thumb stroking your cheek as you suck him off, spreading your legs and waiting patiently for him to touch you, and beg beg BEG! You’ll be a fucked out mess when he finally gives it to you.

John Shelby

He wants to be tough, but in bed he’s a sweetheart. He really does make love to you, kissing every inch of your skin before he even starts to undress himself. He will never admit it to his mates, but he also loves a bossy partner who puts him back in his place and praises him when he behaves.

Arthur Shelby

He’s a fucking animal, someone once said. They were fucking right. Hair pulling, love bites, spanking and a hard and fast pace. He fucks like he needs to breed you. He likes to maneuver you body and bounce it like a rag doll, but holds you gently in his arms right after you’re done.

—

A.N. As always, I keep it in my drafts for months trying to make it better until I can’t bare the sight of it anymore. It should have contained Michael too, but my brain just refuses to think of something..so, no Michael😔 Someone said that what we write is never as good as we want it to be, but it’s always better than what we think of it for the readers, so here you go.

-lulu🤍

[frythatrice]

Guys I'm fucking losing my mind. Is Toriko blonde? More specifically, does Sorawo actually know Toriko's natural hair color?

In volume 1, when they meet for the first time, Sorawo describes Toriko's hair as "pretty for a dye job". This is the only instance in the whole series that implies her hair is dyed, it's never mentioned again. In volume 8, we see a video of primary/middle school Toriko, and her hair is blonde.

This implies one of the following statements is true:

Miyazawa intended for Toriko's hair to be dyed blonde originally, but changed his mind at some point.

Miyazawa intended for Toriko's hair to be dyed blonde originally, but straight up just forgot about it.

Toriko does dye her hair, as well as her eyelashes (which are described as blonde), and has been doing so since primary school, and all is right in the world.

Toriko, aside from her blonde hair and blue eyes, looks ethnically Japanese enough for Sorawo to falsely assume that she dyes her hair blonde.

Option 1 is possible but is both boring and feels unlikely given how insanely easy it would be to confirm Toriko's hair color if her natural hair color was intended to be unambiguous.

Option 2 would be really fucking unfortunate for my current and future mental state.

Option 3 feels unlikely for multiple reasons. If she's actually dyeing her hair, she's also doing it at such a frequency that Sorawo has never seen a hint of her natural hair color at the roots as her hair grows. Her dying her hair in primary school isn't totally out of the question, but it's still incredibly suspicious.

Option 4 would kill me, I think, and I'm seriously worried this is the correct answer. Given how astronomically dense Sorawo is, it's absolutely not out of the question that she saw someone who looked Japanese and just naturally assumed that she dyed her hair blond, and then never bothered to question this idea.

Option 4.5, aka she thought Toriko dyed her hair, forgot about that assumption, and just carried on thinking she's a natural blonde, honestly wouldn't be too out of character either, but it's also boring.

The idea that Sorawo might not know Toriko's natural hair color, as minuscule as that possibility really is, makes my fucking head hurt. The fact that it wouldn't be out of character, either, is too much for me. There's as many instances of Sorawo being dense in Otherside Picnic as there are grains of sand in the universe. If you picked up an omnibus and flipped to a random page, I'd be shocked if it didn't contain at least one. Some of them are genuinely groundbreaking.

If option 4 is true, and Sorawo brings it up in a future volume, there's a non-zero percent chance Toriko Nishina will materialize in the real world and beat Iori Miyazawa into a fine paste with her bare hands for making Sorawo the way she is. Just writing about the possibility is giving me psychic damage, if it comes true I don't think I'll be able to hold on to my corporeal form. At this point, I think the printers would fucking explode if they tried to put that possibility to paper.

It would mean that for 8 volumes or more, Sorawo has been comfortably sitting with the assumption that Toriko, the single most important person that has or ever will exist in her entire life, dyes her fucking hair, when she doesn't. Does it actually matter whether she does or not? Not at all, which is why to not spare even a single, fleeting thought to such a small detail and just carry on with a false assumption for 8 volumes straight might make Sorawo the single scariest entity in the universe, fictional or otherwise. At the very least I think Toriko would be teleported to the nearest hospital on hearing such information.

If option 2 is true, I'm going to be in fucking limbo forever.

If you have any information regarding Toriko's natural hair color, I'm fucking begging you, please share. My life is at stake here, and I don't know how exaggerated that statement is. Please drop me the relevant passage that completely dismantles this unhinged theory, or point out the obvious leap of logic I must have made at some point in this post, otherwise I might not be sleeping any time soon. Otherwise, help me find a way to get in touch with Miyazawa so I can smack him with wads of cash until he coughs up the answer.

[mcdonaldsplayground]

| actually the worst | bonus part

aged up ao’nung x f!reader (18+)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | bonus part

summary: a few years after meeting the metkayina people (and quaritch trying to kill your entire family), you finally get a chance to bring ao’nung to see your former home. however, there’s more to think about than just touring him around the forest.

includes: 18+ content (not anything actually spicy, just more suggestive), teasing, swearing, suggestive remarks, ao’nung being a cocky bastard again😮‍💨

word count: 5.4k

a/n: okay so in this universe neteyam is still alive because i simply cannot process complex emotions at this time😀 also please note that i made up the general plot here just to fit the story but obviously it’s probably gonna be very different in the next avatar films😅 ALSO, i’m so sorry to anyone who was expecting smut or like, in-depth descriptions, but this is as spicy as my writing is gonna get for now hehe. hope you enjoy this lil’ bonus part. i’m gonna get to writing some other stuff soon:)

“Okay, everyone! We’re leaving in ten minutes so if you’re not ready by then, you’re flying by yourself!” Your father called, looking frantic as he saddled up his ikran and tried to herd everyone over at the same time. Jake always went full dad-mode before these trips.

Since the battle on the ship with Quaritch a few years ago, things had finally calmed down and allowed your family the ability to travel back home to the forest and the Omatikaya clan. However, the island had become your home too, so you tried to split your time between each. As much as you loved returning to the forest, though, there was someone that you found increasingly difficult to leave behind.

Ao’nung. The most annoying person you had ever met. Also, often to your chagrin, your boyfriend. The past few years together had been whatever your guys’ version of domestic bliss was. Mostly a lot of playful teasing and sometimes borderline bullying. A lot of flirting, too. Your family and friends often called the two of you childish, but that was just your dynamic, and you loved every second of it.

Recently, though, you’d been a little disappointed. Not with Ao’nung’s treatment of you, definitely not, but with how busy he’d been with his duties. You knew it wasn’t his fault, he was the son of the Olo’eyktan, after all. It was just that between going out hunting, Olo’eyktan training, and working on completing his warrior rites, you felt as if he was becoming a stranger that you were watching from afar. You couldn’t even remember the last time the two of you had been alone.

“Hey, I’m sorry that Ao’nung can’t come, [Y/N].” Neteyam said as he packed the last of his things and strapped them to his ikran, shooting you a sympathetic look. You sighed to yourself, trying not to let your disappointment show.

“It’s no big deal,” You shrugged. “It’s not like we’re leaving forever.” It was true that you wouldn’t be gone as long as usual this time, but it was certainly long enough. Not only would you be away from Ao’nung, but you would miss the completion of his Iknimaya. He was supposed to finish up next week, which was the only reason he wouldn’t be able to come with you like you had originally planned months ago. Actually, you'd been begging him to go along with you for a while, but it had never worked out with his schedule. This time seemed to cut the deepest, though.

“You keep saying it’s not a big deal, but I don’t think you mean that,” Neteyam pushed, coming over to stand next to you. His presence was a comfort, especially because he had inadvertently become the person you always went to for relationship advice. “It’s okay not to be okay, you know.”

“Yeah, I- I know…” You trailed off, unconvincing. “I just wanted to be there when he finished his Iknimaya. He’s worked so hard, Teyam.” You bit your lip, staring hard at the ground. “And-” You cut yourself off, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your own thoughts.

“And?” Neteyam’s tone was gentle, encouraging. You sighed.

“And I just keep worrying that he’s going to get tired of me being gone all the time. Once he’s officially a warrior he gets to choose a mate. I know it’s really horrible of me to think it, but, what if he doesn’t choose me?” You involuntarily imagined coming back from the forest to find him mated to another, your heart rising to your throat.

“I hear what you’re saying, but I have to tell you that’s impossible, [Y/N]. If you could see the way Ao’nung looks at you, you would know.” Neteyam grinned as you flushed, fighting a smile of your own. Before you could say anything in response, your dad declared it was time to leave. Your heart sank back down, and you turned to mount your ikran.

“Wait! Wait up! You’re going to forget your favourite, most handsome possession!” The deep voice sent a familiar shiver of longing down your spine, though his words made you roll your eyes. There was only one man in the world who could do that to you with just a sentence.

You whipped around, wide-eyed as your big dork of a boyfriend sprinted over to your family.

“Miss me, forest girl?” He was grinning like an absolute fool as he finally came to a stop a few feet away from you, panting slightly. You were quick to hide your extreme joy with a glare, lest you show just how much power he held over your emotions.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taming a skimwing right now?” You raised an eyebrow. “You know, so you can prove that you’re a man or something?” You held back a smirk as he narrowed his eyes.

“Alright, then. If you didn’t want me to come you should have just said so.” He said, nonchalantly shrugging as he turned to go back. You knew he was goading you, but you couldn’t help it as you jumped forward, catching his wrist.

“No! Don’t.”

“Oh, so you do want me to come?” He simpered, eyes dancing with mirth. If you weren’t in front of your family you probably would have jumped his bones right there. Something about that perpetual conceited attitude did things to you.

“Can you not be a dickhead for like, one second?” You asked, eliciting a chuckle from him. That was when you noticed the tattoo.

The sweeping intricate black lines spanned a good portion of the left side of his rib cage, swooping slightly up and around the curve of his back. It was gorgeous, but the ink looked incredibly fresh, the edges of the elegant piece slightly raised. You gaped, your fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and touch it.

“What is that?” You breathed, flicking your gaze up to meet your favourite ocean blues.

“I’m surprised you don’t know what a tattoo is considering you’ve lived here for-” You glared daggers as he spoke, indicating that now was not the time for witty banter. He cracked a wide grin, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, geez. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Okay but-” Suddenly everything fell into place in your mind and you gasped, your eyes growing wide. “You finished your Iknimaya?”

He nodded. “Just call me the greatest warrior who’s ever lived- woah!” He laughed deeply as you barreled into him, wrapping your arms around his neck before he lifted you off the ground and spun you around.

“Ao’nung the mighty warrior.” You could barely contain your smile as you peppered a few kisses along his cheeks. “I am so proud of you!”

It wasn’t like either of you to show such blatant affection in front of others, especially your parents, but it seemed impossible not to in this moment.

“That’s why I’ve been so busy lately,” He admitted, pulling back and setting you down in front of him, maintaining a loose grip on your waist. “I had to beg my father to let me work overtime, and it was a pretty tight schedule. I technically finished yesterday, but I woke up before dawn this morning to get my tattoo done.” You could have sworn the only other time Ao’nung had smiled this big was after your very first kiss.

“Oh, Nung, I’m so happy for you! Thank you!” You leaned in to kiss him, but you were rudely interrupted by your youngest brother, who was standing a few feet away with your family.

“Oh, Ao’nung! I’m so proud of you, mighty warrior! Let’s kiss in front of everyone and waste a whole bunch of time being gross!” He mocked in a high-pitched voice, rolling his eyes. Lo’ak may have gotten older, but he still loved to make fun of you two. “I hate to break up your guys’ little love fest, but we were supposed to leave like, ten minutes ago.” He huffed. Tsireya may not have been around to chastise him, but your mother certainly was. She smacked the back of his head, glaring at the boy.

“Lo’ak! You should be happy for Ao’nung! He is a warrior of the clan now.” Neytiri turned to look at Ao’nung, smiling proudly. Ever since your parents had found out about you and him, your mother was very supportive. She’d grown to love him like a son. Your father, however, was not so fond. You and him had been through many arguments in which he claimed you needed to wait until you were old enough for a mate in order to be with Ao’nung. Even now, when this had suddenly become possible, Jake looked a little disapproving.

“My love, Lo’ak is right. We really do have to get going.” You frowned at your father’s lack of enthusiasm, but nothing could truly drag your mood down for long as you thought about finally getting to show Ao’nung your precious forest. Even the days-long ikran flight didn’t seem all that bad anymore.

After you and Ao’nung clambered onto your ikran together and took off, you sighed contentedly, leaning back into him when you had a chance to relax a bit. You could feel the low tenor of his voice through his chest as he spoke, his hands placed on your thighs as he rubbed slow circles along them with his thumbs.

“I can’t wait to see this great forest you’ve been raving about for years.” You grinned at his words, biting your lip as you fantasized about showing him every inch of your former home.

“I can’t wait to see what my grandmother thinks of you.” You snorted. The image of her scrutinizing gaze making the usually overconfident Ao’nung sweat had you giggling.

“She’ll love me. All the ladies do.” You could hear the smirk in his words.

“I hated your guts when we met.” You reminded him, hoping to humble him even just slightly. It was a futile attempt.

“And now?”

“Maybe I still do.”

“Is that so?” He bent his head down to whisper into your ear. “It’s interesting that you hate my guts but yet you love when I rearrange y-”

“If you finish that sentence I will push you off this ikran so fast, Ao’nung.” You warned, a nervous laugh threatening to escape your chest.

“You’d miss me if you did that.”

“Unlikely.”

“Oh, you'd definitely miss me."

“So what is this boy’s name, again?” Your grandmother questioned as you helped her prepare food for dinner. You couldn’t help but smile as she squinted her eyes in the direction of where your brothers and Ao’nung were talking around the fire a little ways off. You all had arrived at the forest late, so everyone was just resting for the remainder of the night. Exploring would have to wait until tomorrow.

“His name is Ao’nung, grandmother.”

“Hm. Well, he could do with an attitude adjustment. But he looks to be a strong warrior, no doubt.” She pursed her lips, still appearing to scrutinize him.

“Yes. He actually just completed his Iknimaya,” You tried your best not to sound like you were gushing over him. “He is very strong, indeed.” The image of his toned arms flashed through your mind. The way he could lift you over his shoulder and carry you. The way his muscles tensed when he gripped your hips as he kissed you. You couldn’t help but flush, shaking your head slightly to clear it. Your grandmother was staring at you, the smallest of grins tugging at the corners of her lips.

“So you are mated, then?” She questioned, and you almost choked on air. You supposed you should have expected the question sooner or later, but it still surprised you. Your heart sped up at the thought.

“Oh- well… no.” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering.

“You sound unsure, child. Do you not want to be his mate?”

“I- It’s- Yes. Yes of course I do,” Your gaze drifted over to him, watching fondly as he laughed at something Lo’ak had said. Despite the obvious stupidity of it, you still couldn’t shake the thought of him possibly choosing someone else to be his mate. It was like some deeply hidden fear you didn’t know you had until now. “It is just a matter of whether or not he wants to be my mate too.” You finished your thought quietly, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“I would think that would be the least of your worries, my dear.” Your grandmother spoke softly, placing a gentle hand on your knee. “He may be a mighty warrior, but even I can see his weakness is you. His eyes betray him every time he looks at you.” This was the second time recently someone had told you such a thing. It made you slightly dizzy with childish giddiness, the idea of you having such an affect on the aloof and confident male.

You were unsure how to respond, but you smiled widely to yourself, a little embarrassed. Your grandmother just chuckled and turned to call everyone over to eat.

The food was almost painfully good after eating pre-prepared meals over the course of your trip. Even Tuk, normally the pickiest eater ever, was scarfing every last bit down. It also felt great to eat together with your family, just enjoying their company as you leaned into Ao’nung’s side, his free arm wrapped around your shoulders. It didn’t take too long for everyone to finish and start turning in for the night.

Your family all slept in a group of hammocks nearby one another, but Ao’nung had been given a spare hammock a little ways away in order to give him more “privacy”, as your dad said, but you figured that he just didn’t want the two of you sleeping near each other. He was very protective and hypocritical considering everything he got up to with your mother when they were young. He was also naive if he thought that sending Ao’nung off by himself was going to keep you two apart.

Once everyone seemed soundly asleep, you silently slipped out of your hammock and crept away to find Ao’nung. It wasn’t too difficult as he appeared to be struggling to lie down comfortably in his hammock. You giggled quietly, sneaking up beside the warrior.

“Do you know how stupid you look right now?” You whispered, quickly slapping your hand over Ao’nung’s mouth as he yelped. You could barely hold in your laughter. “Shut up, skxawng! You’ll wake the whole clan!”

“Very funny, you little brat.” Ao’nung’s expression was sour, especially as he continued to struggle slightly with his hammock.

“You know, I’m very good at helping people who ask.” You smirked, folding your arms across your chest as you watched him try to stop swinging from side to side.

“Fine.” He huffed, glaring up at you.

“Fine what?”

“Seriously?” Ao’nung shot you an annoyed look, but you just stood there, enjoying the power you held in this situation. When you didn’t respond, he finally huffed, resigning himself to what he knew you wanted.

“Would you please do me the favour of helping me figure this stupid thing out, your all-knowing royal highness?” The last bit was a snarky joke, one meant to annoy you, but it only made you grin.

“Why didn’t you ask sooner, Nung?” You made your way over and steadied the hammock, fingertips pushing lightly on Ao’nung’s bicep to indicate that he should move over. When he shifted, you took the chance to climb in beside him, a look of pleasant surprise overtaking his features. The hammock stilled once the two of you had found a comfortable position facing each other, close enough to breathe the same air.

“So this is what you came here for?” Ao’nung questioned, his eyebrows raising as his signature cocky smirk settled onto his lips.

“It’s like you want me to punch you.” You scoffed, tracing the familiar patterns of his skin with your finger, particularly the glowing constellation of freckles that spanned his broad chest. He shivered beneath your touch. However, when you accidentally grazed over the edges of his new tattoo, he hissed. You quickly pulled back, cringing.

“Sorry!” You apologized hurriedly, worried that you had hurt him.

“No, it’s alright. It’s just still a little sore.” He admitted, offering you a gentle smile. You returned it, but did not place your hands back where they were.

“So, you can choose a mate now.” You finally said after a few moments of silence, peering through your lashes to try and gauge his expression. This was a conversation you had been dying to have for days, but it hadn’t seemed like the right time until now. Even so, your heart began to race slightly.

“Yes.” Ao’nung’s tone was low, serious. Maybe it was because of your nerves, but you found it difficult to read his expression.

“And?” You bit your lip, waiting impatiently for him to say anything. Your irrational fears were screaming in the back of your mind.

“And?” He quirked an eyebrow. “What do you want me to say?” You heart plummeted into your abdomen, unable to stop yourself from frowning deeply as you flicked your gaze down so you could avoid eye-contact. You swallowed thickly as your throat constricted. You felt like such a baby for reacting this way, but it was like you couldn’t stop it. The next words coming out felt like someone had stuck a branding iron down your throat.

“Do you want to mate with someone else?”

“What?” Ao’nung sat up slightly in shock, confusion and worry written all over his face. “What are you taking about?”

You just shrugged, afraid you would truly start crying if you spoke or even looked up from your fidgeting fingers.

“[Y/N].” His tone was firm but soft, a plead for you to explain. You felt ridiculously stupid.

“There’s lots of beautiful women of the clan. Many who would make a great Tsahìk some day,” You managed quietly, letting out a short breath. “I don’t want to hold you back just because we have been together so long. Besides, I know what your mother thinks of me, and maybe she is right. I still act like a child sometimes. I am gone so much visiting home. And I am not-” Your voice broke, a few warm tears finally spilling over onto your cheeks. “I am not Metkayina. I am not like you.”

It was painfully silent for a few torturously long seconds. Finally, you felt Ao’nung’s fingers tilt your chin up so he could look at you. His gaze was giving you the all-too-familiar impression that he was seeing you intimately, seeing beyond just your face.

“I do not want anyone else.” He breathed, moving to cradle your face in his hands, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. “I have the most beautiful woman here in front of me. And for some reason, Eywa forbid, I think she likes me.” He grinned and you felt your heart lift.

“You might be right about that.” You said quietly, earning a low chuckle from him.

“[Y/N], I need you to know that I do not care if my mother doesn’t approve of you. The other women of the clan do not tease me. They do not make ridiculously funny faces when they’re annoyed. They do not have the courage to stand up to me and call me a jerkwad when I’m being mean.” The two of you laughed faintly at the memory of you calling him every English insult you could think of. “I love you because you do all of those things. And I love you because you are just as much Metkayina as anyone else in the clan, even though you did not grow up knowing our ways. You were not born into your place there, you earned it, and I can only hope I’ve earned even a slight chance at being worthy enough to be your mate.” You were staring hard at each other now, barely breathing as you hung on to every single word he said. You slid your hands behind his neck, tugging him closer to you, your lips ghosting over his.

“Whether I like it or not, you own my heart, Ao’nung.”

His lips crashed to meet yours with an intensity that set your heart racing. The kiss was all heat and desperation, tongues and teeth. Ao’nung bit your bottom lip, smirking when you gasped. His fingers then found your waist and he smoothly flipped your positions so that he was over top of you, groaning as you placed kisses along his neck and jaw.

“I can’t believe you were worried about me not wanting to be your mate when I’m so fucking in love with you.” He said between sloppy kisses, his hands sliding slowly up and down your thighs, positioned on either side of his body. You shuddered at the way it made your stomach tighten. “As if I would let anyone else hold my heart in their hand.” You whined as he fingered the waistband of your clothing, sucking on a sweet spot just beneath your ear.

“I can think of something else of yours that I would love to hold right about now.” Your eyes glinted as you gazed at him, a quick flash of surprise passing over his face before he broke into a smirk.

“Be my guest, love.”

The mid-afternoon sun shone brightly as you excitedly made your way up the hallelujah mountains. You and Ao’nung had spent the morning around the forest with your family, but you’d really wanted to show him some of your favourite spots by yourself, one of which you were heading to now.

"Hurry up, slow poke!" You found yourself calling out, a laugh bubbling from your chest when Ao’nung groaned behind you. You turned your head back to grin tauntingly at him.

"When you said you were going to show me your home, this is not what I pictured us doing." Ao'nung frowned, glancing warily over the side of the vine you both walked upon.

"No? What exactly were you picturing, then, Nung?" You queried and Ao'nung's lips split into what you could only describe as a suggestive grin.

"Oh, you know, maybe a little less dangerous hiking and a little more finding a secluded spot to-"

"Oh my Eywa!" You yelped, shaking your head. "Just keep walking, you sick bastard."

"Just putting ideas out there.." He chuckled, suddenly pushing forward to catch up to you. He slung his arm around your waist, pulling you into him like it was the most natural action in the world.

You leaned in closer, standing on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "You're so desperate, Ao'nung." He shivered.

"Only for you, forest girl." As the words left his lips, you suddenly felt as if you’d experienced this moment before, down to the exact details. You furrowed your brows, trying hard to remember why it felt so familiar.

“Oh!” You gasped out loud, nearly sending your boyfriend toppling over the side of the vine as your memory came into focus. On instinct, you reached out quickly to steady a confused looking Ao’nung.

“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” He asked incredulously, placing a hand over his heart. “What was that?”

You flushed, unsure of what to say. It was such a strange experience to have to explain.

“Um, it’s nothing.” You laughed breathily, trying to sound as casual as possible before continuing your trek up the mountains. Unfortunately, that was not satisfactory enough for him. He grabbed at your waist, pulling you back into him so you were both were facing forward, your back flush against his chest.

“Tell me.” He whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps along your skin.

“It’s weird.” You chuckled, turning your head so you could meet his eyes. They were alight with interest.

“Like you don’t already say weird things all the time?” He asked, laughing as he earned a gentle punch to the bicep. You turned fully to face him.

“Do you remember the first night we went to the cove of ancestors? The night Kiri had a seizure?” You questioned, playing with your fingers as they rested on his chest, feeling his slow breaths beneath your touch.

“Of course.” He furrowed his brows slightly, as if playing through the memory in his head. “The first time you let your guard down around me.” His lips split into a small smirk, though it was more fond than cocky.

“Yeah, whatever,” You smiled softly. “Well, before all that crazy stuff happened, I had a vision when I connected to the tree. It was- well… it was this.” You bit your lip, spreading out your hands to indicate the scene around you.

“The mountains?” He questioned, not entirely following.

“Yes. But us, too. The exact conversation we just had a few minutes ago. It felt so familiar while it was happening, but I couldn’t remember why until now.” You felt awkward explaining it to him, avoiding eye contact and instead trying to read the rest of his face.

“So you knew this was going to happen?” It was a loaded question, indicating both the general situation and your relationship as a whole. A smirk was tugging at his lips.

“Kind of…” You said slowly. “But at the time I still thought I maybe hated you, so it freaked me out. I didn’t know if it was actually going to come true or not. I was working up the courage to talk to you about it before everything went to shit.” You laughed a little, thinking back on all the chaos of those first few months living on the island.

“I want you to be my mate.” Ao’nung said suddenly, staring down at you with a rare completely serious expression. You snapped your head up quickly, confused at the sudden turn in conversation, though a flutter of excitement settled in your stomach.

“I know,” You smiled softly. “I can’t wait until we get back home-”

“No, now.” His voice was firm, his mind already made up. Your eyebrows shot skyward. “I don’t want to waste anymore time not being officially bonded. We can go tonight,. I think Eywa has given us a sign through your dream.” He grabbed your hand, gently lacing his fingers with yours.

“But- what about our parents?” You asked, trying to ignore the rising giddiness inside of you. “I mean my dad will probably burst a blood vessel in his eye. And don’t even get me started on your mom… She already has enough reason to hate me.”

“It’s not about them, my love.”

“But you are the chief’s son, Nung. There are rituals and ceremonies for you and your chosen mate-”

“Me and you.”

“Yes,” You breath hitched slightly, blushing. “Us. Your parents won’t be pleased if you do not complete them in the traditional way.” You were speaking to deaf ears, reiterating things he already knew well.

“We’ll have our own stupid rituals.” He muttered, his fingers skating along your arm, bringing them up to trace the outline of your jaw. “Ceremonies and parties and disapproving parents can wait until we return.” He searched your eyes, desperately hoping for you to be feeling the same immediacy as him. The same all-consuming desire to be one after waiting so long. Despite your feeble rationale behind why it was a terrible idea, you had to admit that you wanted to do it just as badly.

“Tonight, then.” You finally caved, an excited buzz settling under your skin. Ao’nung grinned, picking you up to swing you around before pulling you into a hug. You could feel his excitement in the air around you, making you bite your lip to keep from smiling too wide.

You woke to the sun already shining brightly, pleasantly warming your skin. A pair of strong arms were wrapped around your abdomen, your legs tangled together with two other, longer and broader ones. It could have been any other morning after sneaking out to be with Ao’nung.

It was not.

You could feel the mating bond even now as your mate lay sleeping beneath you, his soft breaths tickling your skin. Nothing about your feelings for the warrior boy had changed, you still felt the deep love that had claimed a stake on your heart years ago, but it was like it had been fortified, made immortal under the gaze of Eywa. Your soul was tied completely to his, two halves to make a entirely new whole. His eyes fluttered open as you stared at his sleeping form, admiring his peacefulness. He smiled sleepily.

“Good morning, my love.” His voice was slightly raspy from sleep, and you felt your stomach tighten, suddenly replaying every euphoric detail about the night before. You clenched your legs together, letting Ao’nung sit up and pull you into his lap while running a hand slowly up your thigh. Once you were comfortably sitting on top of him, he began to place sweet kisses along your neck.

“Ao’nung.” You tried (failed) to sound stern, placing a hand on each of his biceps in a weak attempt to stop him from caressing all along your body. “We have to go back.” Your words got lost in a moan as he nipped at your collarbone, looking up at you in a desperate sort of way. You shuddered, unable to stop yourself from dipping your head down to place a kiss on his pouted lips. He kissed back fervently, one of his hands sliding to the back of your head while the other danced along your ribcage, dangerously close to eliciting another moan from you. If you didn’t stop now, you knew you never would.

“Alright, alright. Don’t make me smack you, dipshit.” He groaned in annoyance as you pulled away, your lips already slightly swollen from the kiss.

“C’mon, [Y/N].” He whined, his ears flicking back in disappointment. “You're my mate, now. Can we not just enjoy this time?”

You chuckled, tracing your thumb over his bottom lip. “I’m sure you got more than enough enjoyment last night. Now it’s time to for us to deal with the repercussions of that.” You quickly placed one more soft kiss on his lips before sighing and untangling your limbs from his. He unhappily followed your lead, holding your hand to help you up. As the two of you slowly began your walk back home, you smiled to yourself, feeling more content than you ever had before. Even the thought of confronting both your parents seemed but a small inconvenience, an easy price to pay for the sheer elation you felt at the bond you now shared with Ao’nung.

“I still think we could have stayed longer.” He frowned, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth slightly.

“Doubtful. It’s pretty much a miracle they haven’t sent out a search party already.” You laughed, guessing it was already mid-morning. Your family had probably been awake for hours.

“What should I say to your parents?” Ao’nung questioned.

“Well, you should probably start by begging my dad for mercy,” You deadpanned. “Though I doubt that will help.”

“Thanks, I’m so glad you’re confident in me.” Ao’nung quipped back sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I’d like to remind you that I’m a warrior now.”

You grinned. “You’re about to be a dead warrior.”

“Well, at least my last great memory is of you on your knees last night-"

You cut him off with a light punch in the gut. It was like hitting the bark of a tree, but he did you the courtesy of pretending to feel it, at least.

“Geez, someone’s touchy about that.” He smirked, amusement flickering in his gaze.

“Just save the cockiness until after we talk to my parents. I know you probably don’t know to be humble, but-”

“Oh, I’ll be humble. I’ll be even more humble than Neteyam when he gets a compliment.” He spoke of it like a challenge, and you giggled.

“Speaking of that, I forgot to mention that my brothers are probably going to kill you, too, you know. Then maybe even Kiri. You’ll be dead four times over.”

“You’re lucky you’re worth all this murder I’m about to experience.”

“Just remember that this was your idea, genius.”

“Yeah, yeah. But who’s the one who loves me too much to have said no?”

“Shut up.”

“Fine. But only if you give me a good luck kiss before we get back because I’m starting to get nervous now.”

taglist:

@luvlykrispy @foreverfolkloregirly @findingourtreasure @tiddybiddy @nao-cchi @goodiesinthecloset21 @elegantkidfansoul @azaleaniath @cloakedvengeance @philiasoul @aonungmybf @joshuahongsfuturewife @shartnart1 @ayanamire @tireytesulineytiriite @bigmama123 @fucksnow @seashelldom @melsunshine @littlethingsinlife @thesheelfsworld @in-luvais @perseny @minkyungseokie @acrobatcheeks @theblaxkbird @sakura-onesan @1-800-not-simping @srrybroo @ellasully @trulynotavailable @dreamergirljen @ipoopedmypants47 @hangezoes-wife @scarletrosesposts @kaealowri @eggnox @spiceyhotsherbet @awkward-halfhug

[captain-joongz]

Abraxas; Act 1, Chapter 2 Part 1

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

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

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

Chapter word count: 20.8k words

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

Previous part | Series masterlist | Next part

A/N: in the end i decided to split this chapter into two parts, because i think it might be easier to read in two blocks as oppposed to a 40k words in a single chapter, also because this chapter took me such a long time to write (almost two months) maybe i'll implement it more often to not leave you without an update for too long, but chapters might not be able to come out as quickly as i originally hoped because they take a lot of time to make :(( hope you enjoy this one, the second part will be dropping soon after <3

Spring, first year in the force

I was leisurely scribbling on a parking ticket form, smiling at the curious city-goers and squinting in the spring sun. I had forgotten my sunglasses at the station, since I sprinted out the second I had gotten a text about Yoongi’s whereabouts, so now I was stuck half-blind.

From across the street a man in a café waved at me with a friendly smile and I waved back, satisfied for once. I had met Jake a week ago, when I spent the whole day in his cute little business, watching Jungkook’s car parked by Yoongi’s high-end restaurant. After an awkward conversation about who I was and what I was doing there, I introduced myself as an officer and asked about Yoongi. Jake had let it slip that he often saw that car parked there and I was able to beg him for a little favour. I would leave my number there and he would text me when Yoongi came.

You see, he couldn’t legally park there, but no one cared enough to stake it out and give him tickets. Well… No one but me. Was it petty and very inconsequential for him? Yes. Did I still run over anytime the text landed on my phone? Hell fucking yes.

I had no pride when it came to this, we have long since established that everything was allowed in this war of wit.

Gleefully I ripped the fine from the notepad and with dramatic care put it behind the wipers. Suddenly there was a loud groan behind me and when I turned, lo and behold, Jungkook was making his way towards me, his usually emotionless face coloured with annoyance and pinched into an unfriendly grimace. I gave him self-satisfied smile and patted the ticket.

“Seriously? Again?” he asked without any useless preamble and tore the ticket from the window to look at it closer. His eyes squinted aggressively at it, both against the sun and as he attempted to read my nearly undecipherable scrawl.

“Good morning to you too, Mr. Jeon,” I answered with a shit-eating grin, “If you didn’t continuously park outside of designated areas, I wouldn’t be forced to ticket you so often.” Jungkook gave me a stare that would be enough to kill someone and my grin deepened.

“What I would like to know,” a gruff voice came from behind the young man, and instantly our attention turned to the newcomer, “is how do you always know when our Kookie here parks like a naughty boy? You wouldn’t plant another tracker on us, would you?” Yoongi smiled at me and lazily walked down the stairs from the entrance to the street. I shook off the surprise quickly and put on a faux sweet smile, but I could already feel the beginnings of annoyance bubble within me. Jungkook relaxed and a tiny smirk pulled at his lips, and it was my turn to send him a murderous glare. Little shit probably knew that even if he couldn’t annoy me, Yoongi knew perfectly how to push my buttons until I was boiling with rage.

The whole thing with the tracker has turned into a real pain in the ass for me. Yoongi refused to return it to me and sooner or later someone from the station would come looking for it (especially since I technically acquired it unlawfully cause I didn’t have a warrant, but the officer gave it to me in good faith). I borrowed it under false pretences, citing an official business as the reason and wrote my name onto a form. The tracker was the property of the station, and I would have to return it. But I didn’t have it. Yoongi would always say it’s “keeping the score even since I lost theirs”.  I couldn’t even track it after they disabled it, so I was stuck.

“Unfortunately, the only one I had is still in your possession,” I retorted, mood souring quickly, “It’s not like I’m you, who has access to unlimited amount of illegal bullshit.” Yoongi chuckled and moved slightly closer to me so he could gloat to my face.

“Shouldn’t have lost our one,” he retorted with a smirk and moved to get into the car. I watched him as he plucked the ticket from Jungkook’s hands, gently folded it and put it into his suit pocket with a little wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay it in time.” The younger man was still watching me with slight irritation but didn’t say anything and opened the door for Yoongi.

I couldn’t help myself and squeezed in one last petty remark. “Technically, aren’t you the one who lost the tracker?” I asked him, channelling the most annoying energy towards the two men I could muster, “You are the one who was tracking it.”

Yoongi didn’t reply, only turned around to me over his shoulder, smirked and winked once again. Then he disappeared inside the car. Jungkook slammed the door shut and with one last unfriendly stare he got behind the wheel and drove off. I watched them go, a strange mixture of frustration and self-satisfaction boiling inside of me at the encounter.

After the whole tracker fiasco I felt the dynamic between us shift a little. I couldn’t fully pinpoint what it was, but something felt different in the way Yoongi regarded me. I could also see it in the way Jungkook seemed to dislike me more openly and Taehyung found more enjoyment from teasing all of us.

It was strange, the sudden candour exhibited by him. Whenever I would come along with another officer, Yoongi would behave differently, be snippier and more mysterious. But when I came alone, he would tease and smirk and spin his tales. He never really told me anything concrete, but I could see he enjoyed toying with me like that, dangling the information in front of me just barely out of reach. I didn’t know whether it was because I admitted I wouldn’t share the information right away or because I answered to his antics with full force, but he felt more open in front of me than other detectives, though nothing productive ever came from it anyway. Sometimes it felt like I was just an annoying younger sibling to him, and he dealt with me by provoking and teasing me.

I sighed, watching their car go, and then I swiftly crossed the street to my own car to return to the station. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going, just ran out and ignored their curious glances, and now I would have to deal with that. Minjoon would definitely ask, worried whether I had some emergency. He would ask me if I was okay and if I wanted a cup of coffee from cafeteria while regarding me with his warm brown eyes, and the thought of it was already making me relax a little.

I hadn’t talked to anyone in the station about what I’d been doing around Yoongi, not even to Minjoon who seemed to take pity on me and whenever the man was involved, took me with them (or at least as much as he managed to convince Hwang who really didn’t like me). I didn’t dare to express myself too much in front of Park when he tagged along and for some reason Yoongi went along with my cold shoulder whenever other detectives were around as if we were having a secret affair, but I could always see the glint of amusement in his eyes which made me want to punch him. I had no idea why he indulged me like that, but it definitely wasn’t anything good. Really, I should have seen the fuckery coming from a mile away.

So imagine my surprise when only a few days after the meeting at the restaurant, Yoongi waltzed into our office in the station with Jungkook and Jimin in tow like they owned it. He ignored the curious glances and the outright stares and made his way straight towards my table with a shit-eating grin. Jungkook seemed to have been smirking to himself too, and that’s how I knew I was in deep shit. Jimin was watching us with seemingly impassive eyes, but I could see the curiousness in them, especially since this was our first official meeting. I was well acquainted with him of course, but we’ve yet to actually speak with each other.

From the corner of my eye I could see Minjoon’s head shooting up in alarm and alerting Park in his office of what was going on. I shot him a warning glance as he was already halfway out of his chair but soon my attention was snatched by Yoongi, who slapped a piece of paper on my table with a wry grin. I looked at it. It was a confirmation of paying his parking tickets.

“There you go, officer, I hope you’re happy,” he chirped, self-satisfied like a big, spoiled cat, and if I wasn’t currently in the station I might have kicked him. Jimin made himself comfortable leaning on the neighbouring desk and spearing me through with intense eyes while Jungkook stood ramrod straight behind Yoongi sneering at me. This must have been such a great revenge for him I almost wanted to flip him off.

I was just about to open my mouth to retort something no doubt very inappropriate when Minjoon made it over to my desk and protectively stood by my side. My mouth snapped shut and I gave Yoongi a glare instead, to which he smirked knowingly.

“All the tickets, they’ve been paid,” he reiterated again, pointer finger tapping on the paper on my table, “And Kookie promises to do better.” The said man scowled behind him but stayed silent.

“What?” Minjoon asked confusedly, eyes jumping between all of us, “What is this pertaining to exactly?” He was talking to Yoongi, but I felt that his question was just as much pointed at me. Park was shuffling right on the edge of my periphery, curiously watching the whole thing go down, so I schooled myself and reminded myself that this wasn’t Yoongi’s office, and I couldn’t just curse him out in front of the whole unit. The bastard might have even enjoyed that. I gritted my teeth and stood up.

“Thank you, Mr. Min, for sorting out your situation,” I told him with a polite smile so tense it was basically a grimace, “and I hope your driver learns from this.” At the jab the young man narrowed his eyes at me, lips pursed, but didn’t move a single inch and didn’t make a single sound. Jimin leaning on the table was quietly snickering into his hand, watching the man’s tense form.

Yoongi’s answering smile was just as falsely sweet and polite, but the smugness still hung about his aura as he gave me a shallow bow and turned to leave, the whole time ostentatiously ignoring anyone else in the room. The moment the door closed behind him, the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop, and everyone was staring at me. My palms grew clammy and I nervously shuffled, eyes falling at the confused detective still standing next to me who was eyeing me just as questioningly as the rest of the office.

Minjoon looked like he wanted to say something, but his gaze jumped to the receipt still laying on my table and he froze, as if he wasn’t done processing the situation. Before anyone could do anything, Park decided to break the silence.

“Lee, Jang, my office. Now,” he said sternly and without waiting for us stalked back into his office. We exchanged anxious glances, but wordlessly trailed behind him. I had half a mind to quickly circle back and grab the ticket receipt with me as if it was evidence.

Once inside, Park was sitting behind his table with a stern face, if I had to guess he was on a good way to pretty pissed, and we both stood in front of his desk with our heads hung low like two schoolmates getting scolded by the headmaster. My grip tightened around the paper until I crumpled it.

“So, what has just happened?” the older man asked, voice seemingly impassive but still chilling me to the bones. Minjoon sent me a look, encouraging me to speak so we both could get out of this.

“Uh… so…” I started, not knowing what or how to say, but in the end decided that just coming right out with something as close to the truth as possible was the best way, “I’ve been giving Yoo- I mean Mr. Min parking tickets these past two weeks. I remembered his license plate and I realised I pass his car sometimes when he’s by the Black swan. It’s not legal to park there, so I started writing him up anytime I pass by and he’s there.” Both men in the office watched me, Park still keeping his impassive expression, while Minjoon looked at me with a mixture of surprise and amusement. I flushed from embarrassment under their scrutiny, heart beating out of my chest at having to explain and lie.

“Okay,” said Park finally and relaxed, “I guess you took being annoying to heart.” Honestly it sounded both like a compliment and an insult, but as long as I wasn’t in serious trouble I didn’t really care. I swallowed my irritation at his words and instead looked at Minjoon, who was fighting a smile. Normally that would help me calm down and laugh at the situation too, but at that moment I was so nervous and panicked I barely had the mind to acknowledge it.

“Am I in trouble?” I asked our superior, some frustration bleeding into my voice, but Park was already a hundred miles away and barely paid it any mind. “No, you can write parking tickets as much as you want, but you need to let me know if you’re getting into contact with the suspects, you understand?” his voice was gruff, but it was obvious he was no longer invested into this conversation. I nodded fiercely, focusing on keeping my face as guiltless as possible. Swallowing my pride, I bowed to him, apologised and thanked him for lenience, before I walked out of the office back in the direction of my own table and the office door.

Minjoon caught up to me, the amusement finally free to show on his face and now he was snickering lightly. I threw a nervous smile over my shoulder and walked straight out of the office aiming for hiding out in cafeteria for a moment. He followed, thoroughly enjoying the visual of Yoongi getting tickets now that he knew what it was about.

I sent him a glare and he put his hands up, but in the end burst out laughing. “It’s pretty cool,” he got out between giggles, “I’m not saying anything.” I relaxed a little and let myself go with the flow, slowly easing into laughing too and smacking his shoulder in joking reprimand.

“Actually, it explains so much,” Minjoon said finally when we got to the front of the coffee line and held our cups securely in our hands. “What do you mean?” I gave him a confused glance, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, he just always smiles at you in a really weird way,” Minjoon said unthinkingly, obviously not finding it that strange, but I froze in my tracks watching him like a deer in the headlights, “You’ve been doing it for a while, right? I always thought he was just being a creep, but I guess he was thinking about all the tickets.” The detective snickered lightly, amused by this whole situation. I forced my muscles to relax and also gave a clipped nervous laugh, hopefully playing it off completely, even though I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I wondered just how much other people also realised that Yoongi was acting strange. If anyone else saw the teasing glint to his eyes and the curl of his lips that felt like he was sending secretive smirks aimed just at me, reminding me of our interactions that would lend me in serious trouble had anyone else found out.

Minjoon excitedly babbled some more, telling me about his encounter with one of the lower tier drug dealers and how he tried to escape from them through a window and got stuck, he was laughing through the whole story and I somehow managed to give him the appropriate reactions at the right times even though my mind was stuck on the dangerous man and how to deal with this mess for the rest of the afternoon.

The next day I angrily stomped my way through the doors of Yoongi’s office building. The lady sitting at the reception looked up, totally uninterested in me as I’ve been showing up here quite often, and then promptly looked back down to her desk, not even attempting to stop me. I stormed past her and went straight for the elevators and rode all the way up.

I needed to talk to Yoongi, now. If he thought this was going to stop me or deter me, or that it would be a warning for me and I would chill out, he would be sorely disappointed. I was angrier with myself than him though. We weren’t friends, nobody promised anyone anything. I operated on the belief that because he kept his mouth shut until now, he would continue to, but of course once I started getting too pesky, he would show me just how much I depended on his silence.

It was completely natural, and I couldn’t even blame him for it. I only blamed myself for getting fooled into the notion that he wouldn’t just because he waited this long to actually do anything.

Once the elevator door opened, I saw the always empty reception desk at the end of the hallway. It was quiet there, not even a shadow moved, and a sudden nervousness choked me. I wrung my hands and stepped around for a moment, but well. No time like the present. I took a deep breath and barrelled through the door.

It swung open wildly, hitting the wall with a dull thump. I strolled in with faux confidence and promptly realised – the room was empty. Usually Yoongi was sat behind his massive desk from dark wood or lounged about the sofa, but now looking around I couldn’t see any trace of his presence. There was complete silence, the door to the bathroom that was usually masked well into the wall now sat open and nor his coat nor his suit jacket was present.

My heart beat lighting fast with anxiousness, but my mind ran wild with possibilities. I looked around again, this time to make sure there wasn’t anyone around, I even checked the hallway again, but it was truly empty. Quickly I closed the door and hurried to his desk. The top was fully cluttered with documents to a point I could barely see the ornamented wood beneath, but at that moment I wasn’t interested in that, I was fully focused on a single thing – the fucking tracker.

There was a chance he was keeping it at home, but I found it more probable it was here, in this desk, with the worst case scenario being that Jungkook had it somewhere. Wildly I rummaged through papers, not caring about making a mess at all. There was a camera in the corner, and I knew it could see me as clear as day, and it was more about making a statement than trying to hide anything. I was getting swayed by my impulsivity, I knew that, but a chance like this wouldn’t present itself to me again. This was the last thing Yoongi would expect from me and I had to keep him on his toes somehow. I chuckled at that and kneeled down.

Moving on to the drawers, I found two of them locked. My interest was sufficiently peaked by that. No reason to lock them, if they don’t hold something you don’t want taken, right? I smirked, making a point to look straight at the camera, before pulling a bobby pin from my hair and quickly getting to work.

I didn’t like to think about my childhood very much. I didn’t have much growing up in an orphanage in one of the poorest neighbourhoods in Seoul, and what I did have I had to fight for. I wasn’t proud of what I did when I was growing up, wasn’t proud of the people I was hanging around and the things I got myself into before I was scouted for the police academy, but even now I had to admit it left me with some questionable yet useful skills.

Like how to pick locks.

I swirled the pin around for a few moments, tentatively pushing it around and tapping at the metal machinery, hoping I didn’t get out of practice, when I heard a click and the lock gave way. I quickly went through the first one and it didn’t contain much, mostly more documentation and some very fancy pens and a diary.

My hand stilled on it for a second and I was tempted to peek, but I couldn’t. It felt too wrong and I couldn’t betray myself like that. I had no idea what would be contained within his diary, but it felt too much like a complete violation of privacy. Looking for the tracker could still be all a part of one big running joke, but actually going through his things didn’t sit right with me, especially since anything I got this way would be totally inadmissible in court and land me in more trouble than it was worth. Right, it could give me more information about him and push me in the right direction, but at the cost of not being able to look at myself in the mirror. With one last look I slammed the drawer shut and moved on to the other one, swallowing down the shame about my very questionable morals.

No time to dwell on it now, I would get Yoongi fair and square in the end, I just had to try a little harder.

Opening the other drawer revealed that the content was much more interesting. Upon moving some papers out of the way, I quickly found not only the tracker I had put on Yoongi, but also the tracker he had put on me. I narrowed my eyes at the camera and fished out both of the devices to show them off, waving them both around with a less than impressed expression. I pocketed them and flipped of the camera, quickly moving to shut the drawers, when something caught my attention.

Black steel glinted from underneath the mess in the second drawer and when I lifted it off, I gasped lightly. A gun was lying at the bottom, a little black handgun just hanging out inside his desk. Quickly I examined it, noting it was the same model police officers carried, DP51. It was accessible to get with the proper license and I knew Yoongi had it, he had gotten it legally some time ago and the model checked out, but it still shocked me to just see it lying about like that. But as long as it was legal, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. If I was petty enough, I’d check the serial number and make sure it was truly the one he had registered, but I still really wouldn’t be able to do much as I wasn’t even supposed to find it and had just committed a crime by breaking into his desk, so I’d rather not provoke my luck too much.

Just as swiftly as I threw things out I put everything back in there and shut it, not bothering to lock them again. Giving the camera one last victorious smile I rushed out, slamming the door behind me.

I didn’t even know if the universe was on my side or against me when I quite literally bumped straight into Yoongi on the sidewalk by the main entrance. He was just rounding a corner from the side alley when I crashed into him, almost falling on my ass, and I totally would have eaten dirt right out in the daylight if the man in question didn’t immediately shoot out his arms to catch me.

“Woah!” Yoongi exclaimed in surprise, hands grabbing onto my arms and pulling me back onto my feet trying to stabilise me a little. When he realised who I was, he smirked like he’s just come across his favourite idiot (he did). Jungkook ran over to us, alarmed and clearly worried for his boss’ safety. He would have ripped me away from Yoongi if the man himself didn’t stop him with a lazy little wave of his hand, no doubt curious which gems he’d get out of me now.

Once I had my feet under me again, I suddenly found that the irritation that always seemed to be present when I dealt with Yoongi was nowhere to be found. Instead I felt like the little shit-stirer today. I seemed to have shocked them both when I grinned widely, in that manner that you know I had just done something that would piss them off.

Yoongi regarded me suspiciously, probably putting two and two together and realising I had been loitering around the office building.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, officer?” he asked, shock robbing him of his usual poise. My smirk deepened and I gently grabbed his wrists to remove his hands from my arms. Jungkook watched me with a stare so intense it almost burned a hole in me, but I let him go immediately, his arms hanging in the air between us for a split second before Yoongi gathered himself and stepped back leisurely.

He tried to look cool and collected, but his eyes were sharp and calculated why I would be in such a good mood, clearly not used to me being so carefree in his presence. I had one of those moments when I was snapped out of my usual approach to Yoongi, maybe because only a single glance at him didn’t enrage me beyond human capabilities like usual, and I suddenly clocked in the put together state of him.

His hair was put into a half bun, but some soft strands were hanging around and framing his face, curling up into tiny waves, while the rest fell to his shoulders in a wavy mess. He was all in black again, black t-shirt and dress pants and a longer jacket with a white hem that fell to his mid-thighs. It wasn’t often that I actively realised that he was a fairly attractive man with a good sense of fashion, but when I did, it never failed to smack me right in my face. But tonight I was ecstatic about managing to swindle him like this and getting the tracker back, so I let myself tease him a little more than I usually would.

Before they could say anything, I sidestepped him and patted his shoulder. “Thanks for that,” I chirped out, shit-eating grin still firmly set on my face, “Looking good today, Mr. Bossman, but unfortunately I have to run now.” With that I set out back to my car so that I could hurry back to the station.

When I was pulling out of the parking spot, I could still see Yoongi and Jungkook standing on the corner, confusedly watching me. I couldn’t help myself and waved at them from the car as I was passing them. I wished I could have seen Yoongi’s face when he watched back that security tape, but unfortunately the universe wouldn’t allow me this much amusement.

Back at the station I immediately ran for the IT department and after some grovelling and apologizing for taking this long to return it, I was able to finally tie this loose end, hoping no one would ever request to review my involvement with this unit.

Walking out of there, I felt as if a whole mountain fell off of my heart and it put a pep in my step. For the rest of my shift I let the mental image of Yoongi losing his shit over a security recording carry me and it never failed to make me cackle even hours later.

When a week later I got summoned into Park’s office again, suffice to say I was shitting bricks. This could either be a continuation of last week, a more detailed interview about how much was I exactly involved with Yoongi, or he got wind of me returning the tracker. Neither of these were good – they would either land me in trouble or force me to lie, which I wasn’t exactly fond of.

I was nervously shuffling from foot to foot by the door for a long few moments, but just as I was about to knock and enter, I was suddenly joined by Minjoon and two people I’ve never met before – a man and a woman that looked a few years older than me. They were both dressed rather nicely and gave me small but friendly smiles when our eyes met. We exchanged hellos and pleasantries while I eyed the two of them curiously. Minjoon smiled at me in a way I could call encouraging and knocked, never initiating any introduction between us and before I could say anything, we were instructed by a gruff voice to come in, so I let it go for the moment.

Officer Hwang was already waiting inside, the older man was sitting on one of the chairs and chatting amicably with Park, whose face immediately shut off the moment strangers came in. The duo went over to the couch and sat down, looking expectantly towards Park to start speaking. We shuffled around a little, arranging chairs and getting comfortable, there was a hum of nervous small talk and then silence settled over the room as everybody sat down and looked towards the senior detective.

“Right,” he cleared his throat, “We have several new leads, ones that I will later share with the whole team, but you should be briefed first as it directly involves the three of you.” Park awkwardly gestured towards us sitting on the other side of his desk uncomfortably squirming in our seats.

I began winding down slightly. It seemed that none of my fears were realised, and this meeting was about something completely different and none of my transgressions. I released a long breath, the tension leaving my body and I decompressed into the little chair. Minjoon looked over and must have caught my nervousness, so he sent me a little smile, probably thinking I just wasn’t used to being called to the office yet. I shakily returned it and tuned my attention back to the older detective.

“As you surely remember, about a month ago there was a call from a passerby about shots around the dock area down in west south Seoul. Upon arrival, a bloody scene was found with several bodies that were later identified to be small fish drug dealers,” Park began explaining the situation to us, “It was on the Kim family turf, so no connection to Mins was made. They seemingly are on cordial terms, so we didn’t have a reason to assume Min had anything to with it. But a few days ago, our Kim informant gave us the information that there are tensions rising between the two gangs and a month ago there was an altercation on the Kim turf that apparently happened by the hands of Min’s dogs. That made us circle back to this case and we think it might be what he was talking about.”

I remembered the instance very well, I realised with embarrassment flushing my face. It was the evening Minjoon refused to take me with him due to the gruesome scene and in anger I went to beg to Yoongi’s office for any kind of information, only to end up with a tracker on my phone. Stupid naïve old me, that has never dealt with a man of Yoongi’s calibre before. I shook my head lightly at the memory. The tracker situation would just not leave me alone.

There was silence in the room, less because people were shocked and more of an unsureness of whether he was expecting us to add something or he was content to carry on by himself. In the end, Hwang broke the tense atmosphere.

“They must have been in a rush to leave behind such a mess,” he drily stated, “not like the boys at all.” There were some hums of agreement from around the room and then more quietness. Finally, Park decided to get to the point of this, clapping his hands curtly to get all of our attention again and I flinched in my chair, having been looking at the two strangers sitting on the sofa whisper something to each other. When I turned to him, he was staring at me with his eyebrow raised before he continued.

“We have decided to collaborate on this investigation with the violent crimes unit,” Park briefly gestured to the two strangers sitting on the sofa, to which they gave us an awkward wave, “Jang and Hwang are the Min team in our unit, so you will be in charge of it on our end. I notified the boys who keep an eye on the Kims to be of assistance to you if you need it. Newbie, you will be working on this with them as an assistant.” I jerked, this time from surprise, looking all wide eyed at the detective before he got tired of my gradually happier and happier face and turned back to others. I could barely supress the joy that coursed through my veins at this, basically vibrating in my seat.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Minjoon giving me a cheeky smile, insinuating he was already aware of the situation, and I was likely the only that was kept in the dark about it. Excitement thrummed through me and I could barely stop myself from bouncing on the chair. There seemed to be a permanent smile etched into my features, and while Park kept giving out some more technical advice and instructions, I didn’t even listen properly through the sea of possibilities already flashing through my mind.

Within 5 minutes Park was pushing us all out of his office and we found ourselves awkwardly standing outside and looking at each other.

“Well, I guess I ought to introduce myself,” I broke the ice, suddenly emboldened by this turn of events, all sunshine and smiles as I offered my hand to them once again, “I am officer Lee Y/N, I joined the force last autumn.”

The man, who towered over me with his wide shoulders and muscled form, shook my hand first with a charismatic smile and nodded at me. “Name’s Choi Seungcheol, but you can call me Coups. I’ve been in the force for some time already.” His face looked very kindly, but there was a spark of a boyish cheekiness in his features. The lady by his side snickered at that and I couldn’t help myself and giggled along.

She stepped closer to me and pushed away Seungcheol so she could shake my hand as well. He jokingly pouted and gave her a side-eye, but it was obvious they were very close as both partners and friends. It made me smile at the display, hoping that one day when I got my own partner, we would be just as tight. My eyes took her form in, her dark wavy hair and confident face, she was a true mixture of beauty and strength.

“I’m Sunmi,” her voice brought me back and I stopped gawking at her with flushed cheeks, “I’m his senior, so don’t even ask how many years I’ve been in the force.” To this Seungcheol laughed meanly and lightly bumped her shoulder with his fist.

“We’ve been dealing with this case mostly on our own, but we’re excited about getting the help of your unit,” she added and gave us all a wide grin, “I’m sure we can all give each other useful information.” Seungcheol behind her nodded and then reached out to pat Minjoon’s shoulder.

“I’ll just beg you for like 20 minutes so I can run to the buffet and buy myself at least a sandwich or something, cause I’m about to die,” he joked good-naturedly with us and before anyone could say anything, already started walking back with a cheeky grin. Sunmi rolled her eyes fondly and then slowly turned to follow him. Minjoon just waved them off with a smile and then turned to us.

Me and Hwang were watching each other awkwardly. He regarded me with obvious mistrust and contempt, but I’d already gotten used to that in this unit, so I only returned it with a smile so fake I was surprised he wasn’t insulted by it.

“Okay you two, play nice,” Minjoon inserted himself into the situation and grabbed both of our shoulders, “there’s also no need for formalities now, we’ll all be working closely together. Y/N, please from now on call him Jiho, Jiho call her Y/N.” The man scowled at me but in the end buckled under the pressure of Minjoon’s stare and nodded my way in acknowledgement.

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff,” he then grumbled and moved to his table moodily. I scowled at his back, returning his favour in terms of warm welcomes, but Minjoon subtly shook his head at me so I schooled my expression back into careful neutrality. Inside I was pissed though. It’s not like I was stepping on any toes here, he just didn’t like me for the sake of not liking me.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Minjoon walking towards the conference room with the infamous Min gang picture wall, so I followed after him. My happy mood took a small hit after such a reception from my colleague, but at least the violent crimes unit seemed really nice so not all was lost.

In the shoddy privacy the glass walls of the room offered I sat down and sulked, heart sinking as I realised that Minjoon might be the only person on my side here. Park was annoyed by me and Hwang obviously didn’t like me at all, and when it came to it, Seungcheol and Sunmi weren’t part of this unit and couldn’t really affect my standing among my own colleagues.

“Don’t pout now,” Minjoon’s teasing remark brought my attention back to him and when I took in his amused face, I had to fight off another scowl, “He’ll come around to you. He’s just annoyed a newbie is allowed to work with us so quickly.” That didn’t soothe my anger at all, but I pretended to smile towards the only kind man in this unit, not wanting to dig around in this open wound anymore.

“You shouldn’t take it personally,” the man continued obliviously, flipping his dark brown floppy hair out of his eyes as he fixed something on the wall, “you know, he’s Park’s understudy and as such he’s not only very old school, but he’s also been part of this unit for a long time without many promotions. Stuck in the same place for this amount of time, he isn’t the exactly the nicest to fast moving rookies. I had my problems with him as well, especially since I took the leading position in our team after only a few months here.” He smiled at me soothingly, throwing a glance at me over his shoulder with his kind eyes and it finally made me calm down a little.

“Sorry, I’m used to everyone hating me specifically that it never occurred to me he could be a dick to everybody,” I half joked half grumbled and Minjoon laughed at my words, pulling a genuine smile from me at the sound. For a few seconds I wished people here were a little more like him, or that I was assigned to him when I got here, but drowning in what ifs was never a good way to spend time, so I shut that self-pity down quickly.

Instead I focused on the wall and the few changes that have been made to it sometime this week. Truth be told, I was so caught up in feuding with the gang in real life, I kind of forgot to keep up with the information hanging here on the wall, so I took a few moments to take everything in.

Under the old picture of Yoongi that was the primary point of the wall someone taped a new picture of him, most probably very recent one and from some kind of an official black-tie event. He was wearing a sleek suit with his hair styled and slicked back from his face, champagne glass in hand as he kept a light conversation with someone out of the shot.

“That’s from the fundraiser for a new children ward in the Seoul St. Mary’s Hospital,” Minjoon supplied when he saw me looking at the pic, “As one of the richest men in Korea he gets around these events a lot, it’s kind of funny.” I scoffed playfully at his words.

“All you have to do is own a few hotels,” I sing-songed jokingly, eyes already moving across the wall for any new details. There weren’t many, most just pertained to Tae, Jimin and Jungkook going about their days and doing business. Yoongi’s schedule was mostly known to us and he rarely strayed into unknown spaces, Namjoon mostly just sat in his office and Hoseok was as elusive as ever. I had an inkling I probably saw more of him in the past few weeks than my colleagues did in months, and even then he just made sure everything was going okay around the docks. And as for Jin, he was an open book with his practice and reputation, so there weren’t exactly any skeletons to dig for in his closet.

Once again I realised that without a proper offensive we would never get close enough to Yoongi to actually prosecute any of his gang members, and although all the evidence I gathered could be easily dismissed just by Yoongi reporting me and asking for a restraining order, I still got closer than Park who always bumped into Namjoon’s carefully constructed walls of legal bullshit.

We all knew illegal shit happened behind closed doors, we all knew how he got his stuff here and what he sold in his clubs and how he dealt with his “employees”, but on the outside everything either seemed perfectly legal without any loopholes to sneak your way in or there just wasn’t enough conclusive evidence, letting Yoongi perfectly skirt the grey area and do his crimes in peace. At this point if we didn’t get a photo of him shooting someone point blank, we’d never be able to get him, cause he had the uncanny ability to weasel his way out of everything.

He truly was someone that’s been doing crime before I even learnt to tie my own shoes and it showed.

And while my plan with Hoseok crashed and burned, I wasn’t giving up. I wouldn’t give up. I just needed time to recoup and find a new way in. Problem was, Yoongi was way too aware of me now and yes, I did learn from my mistakes and always managed to attack from a different angle, but I was still only a single person, and it was too easy for them to toy with me. I was too vulnerable against the seven of them and somehow they always got ahead of me, made me into their entertainment and played games with me until I caught up. I had to change my tactics, again.

And this was my opportunity to do so. Minimise contact and focus on the investigation and skirt around them for as long as possible. The less they saw of me now, the better. At this point, that was the only thing they wouldn’t expect me to do. Here or there drop in and keep it together, remain professional. Or just turn it around completely and play by their rules to subvert their expectations. I could do this. I had to, really. There was no other choice against Yoongi’s wit and his men.

Next to me Minjoon was humming as he put up some additional information to the wall, the basic stuff we all already knew but for people from a different unit it could be useful to keep it up so they oriented in the case better. Slowly, the grey of the coating couldn’t even be seen anymore, all covered up in pictures of people and bodies and crimes. It was strangely calming, having it all in front of me like that, seeing clearly the web of depravity and corruption. It was easier to keep the goal in mind and not get lost in all the dead ends.

The sudden sound of the door opening tore me from my musings and I jerked in shock, fight or flight almost kicking in since I was so lost in my own head for a moment, but I relaxed once I realised it was the violent crime guys with Hwang sullenly trailing in behind them. I fought to keep the eye rolls to myself and instead gave a warm smile to Seungcheol and Sunmi, gesturing for them to make themselves comfortable around the table. Minjoon was still messing around with some of the files and boxes and Hwang walked over to him, the two of them whispering to each other about something.

Sunmi started piling files onto the table, so I kept my attention there, sitting down across from them and slowly going through them. There were a few cases, but most of them pertained to the killing from a month ago. There was a lot of witness statements, some vague comments about the safety of the area and a lot of avoiding answers when it came to the topic of the Kim family. I sifted through them until I got to the pictures and stilled.

I’d never seen the crime scene before. I have seen pictures of crime scenes, even pictures of bodies and autopsies, but the fact that I knew the killer, talked with him and joked with him, it messed me up more than I was anticipating it would. It was the first crime scene I saw that was so viscerally real and close to me, to my own case. It felt like my heart was beating out of my throat and I could physically feel my hands getting sweaty.

“Hey, you okay?” I heard a kind deep voice, and two hands suddenly entered my peripheral. I quickly tore my eyes away from the pictures of bloody bodies strewn across an industrial complex, of pools of thick red liquid covering most of the floor and walls splashed with it. I tried not to think about the obvious signs of a scuffle, of the evidence of complete overpowering by power unseen and totally unexpected. I tried not to think about how much force do you need to exert while killing someone to get their blood all over the ceiling.

My eyes met the worried ones of Seungcheol and I nodded shakily. His question got the attention of most of the room, and I found myself at the centre of attention with several concerned gazes trained onto me and Hwang watching me condescendingly from the corner. That quickly amplified my unease and I found myself stuttering out another affirmative answer almost incoherently.

“You said you were a newbie, right?” Sunmi asked, but her voice and face were soft with no trace of mocking I was afraid I’d see there, “Is this your first crime scene?” With shame written all over my face I nodded again and pushed the file with the pictures away, trying hard not to catch anybody’s eyes.

Seungcheol laughed softly and I flinched, humiliation filling me from head to toe, until he said: “You’re still holding up pretty well, when I saw my first crime scene I threw up.” Sunmi laughed at that, laughed at him, and yet it wasn’t insulting and he returned her smiles completely unperturbed.

“Oh god, I remember that,” she said breathlessly, “It was absolutely hilarious. He was green the whole day and barely uttered a word.” Seungcheol smirked at her and I could see in Sunmi’s eyes she realised he was about to say something about her past the way they narrowed and her smile froze.

“Actually Captain later told me that you threw up too and then cried during lunch, so we’re pretty even,” he said smugly and there was silence for a few seconds before they both started giggling at each other. I couldn’t help myself and a few giggles escaped me too at their antics.

“Honestly, I think the only reason I am not throwing up right now is because it’s only pictures,” I managed to mutter out my own hesitant comment, topping it off with a shaky smile hoping to show my gratitude to them for trying so hard to distract me from it. They both grinned back, nodding in encouragement, and I leaned back into my chair a little, stomach still rolling around but now considerably calmer than before.

Minjoon finally abandoned the wall and sat down next to me, his hand gently patting my shoulder before he kindly said: “Don’t worry, everybody has a reaction when they see something like that for the first time. I threw up too the first time I was taken to a crime scene.”

I started squirming under all their attention and just simply nodded to get them back to focusing on anything else, especially since Hwang’s eyes coldly regarded me from the wall watching me like I was totally pathetic.

In my mind, I was suddenly brought back to that day, how angry I was with Minjoon for underestimating me and telling me I can’t come with him. Back then I thought he was just being overprotective because I’m a woman, that he sees me as weaker like all the rest and immediately jumped into going to Yoongi instead and embarrassing myself there, but now having seen these photos, I was suddenly relieved I didn’t go. I was stupid, I had no idea what I was talking about all those weeks ago. I looked to him and gave him a thankful smile, even if he had no idea what I was thinking about, and he returned it tenfold. That helped me calm down even more, but still there was an undeniable tenseness to my shoulders and a slight tremble in my hands.

In some way I was also glad for not having seen the scene back then, because I don’t think I would be able to face Yoongi the next day without throwing up again.

The conversation around me shifted already to the other files and I was only brought back to what was happening around me once Minjoon touched my arm in concern, watching me the whole time I was dissociating. I gave him a half-hearted smile and tuned back in.

“It’s not official, of course,” Sunmi was just saying, finger tapping on one of the unfamiliar files, “But we think it’s highly likely. There’s some similarities, even though it’s just speculation and no formal ties to any of the gangs have been made, but it’s all victims that ran through these circles and their demises were very sudden and very violent. It’s worth it to go through it with you experts and see.” So they brought extra files that could also be associated with the Min gang. Curiously I pushed one file open and gave it a quick glance over. It seemed to be some old rich guy that was murdered on the street few months back and it was at first classified as mugging.

“Have these happened in or around places known to be associated with these gangs?” I found my voice finally and jumped back into professional headspace, trying to shake off the residual unsettlement. Seungcheol’s eyes jumped to me suddenly, presumably getting surprised by me inserting myself back into the conversation.

“Yeah, they’re all mostly directly from or from around the Min or Kim turf,” he said and gave me a supportive smile. I returned it, still somewhat awkward with them as strangers, but quickly getting drawn into their warm presence and energy.

Minjoon next to me hummed, watching the table quickly disappear under a load of papers and photos, seemingly deep in thought. Then he looked at me and smiled. It was the ‘I’m gonna have you do something you’ll hate’ kind of smile and I already felt my enthusiasm crashing through the floor all the way to hell.

“I think it’d be beneficial to go through the files and see if any of the names seem familiar to us or pop in our database. If we find a concrete link to them, we can count them in,” he said slowly, like he was pitching an idea for a new breakfast commercial trying to win over tough investors, and his eyes slid over to me again, “Y/N, please start with that and keep me updated on your progress.”

I gave Minjoon a tight-lipped smile and nodded, gathering all the files on a little pile in front of me. I couldn’t pinpoint why exactly I was so uncomfortable in this situation, but there was just a feeling creeping up my back that something was wrong and I had no idea why. I squeezed my trembling fingers into a fist and listened to Minjoon explaining basic information to the violent crimes team about Yoongi and his organisation. I listened on a half ear, most of the things long time known to me, some even information I could potentially expand on if it wasn’t immediately followed up by questions I couldn’t answer.

I imagined Yoongi in my mind, I thought back to our last meeting and tried to summon back the feeling of power and vindication I felt after leaving his office with the trackers. I still haven’t followed up with him, still didn’t come by for another battle or to see his irked but intrigued gaze. He’d tell me something smug, teasing, he’d maybe call me a thief or make fun of me for looting when I was a police officer.

But now I wouldn’t be able to follow up on it anymore, with the investigation I’d be needed around the precinct more, I couldn’t get away with disappearing so much without any explanation. And I still didn’t have another plan how to track down Hoseok either.

Minjoon moved to the wall and was gesturing to some of the photos, mainly going over the main six. I zeroed in on the pics we had of the man I was after so desperately, most of them were taken of him on his phone or with a scowl on his face as he dealt with something in the docks, his strict face as scary as captivating.

It’s the face of a stone-cold killer, I reminded myself. They’re all killers. A feeling of unease fell over me, like I realised for the first time just how much I was playing with fire these past few months and more than ever I couldn’t comprehend why Yoongi was so lenient with me, when I now first-hand experienced how his enemies ended up.

By the time we were done in the conference room, it was already getting dark outside. Seungcheol and Sunmi departed with a few nice words and promises to meet us next week at the scene, before they both disappeared down the hallway leading to the service parking lot. Hwang also scurried off somewhere without saying much, just one second he was there and the next there was no trace of him.

I stretched, my whole body absolutely screaming from sitting by the table for hours upon hours on no end, and as I got up one joint after another cracked like crisps getting stepped on, a long groan leaving my mouth as my muscles locked with the temporary relieving pain.

“Remind me to never sit at this table for longer than two hours next time,” I said to Minjoon, voice strained but carrying a tone of humour in it. He laughed lightly, not really looking at me as he tried to tidy up the table. I stole a few files right from under his hands and he shot me curious glance.

“Aren’t you going home?” he asked with a polite concern lighting his voice, “It’s been a long afternoon and we should be fresh tomorrow.” I gave him a toothy grin and gestured to the files in my hands.

“I will go home, I just want to copy these so I can have a look at them outside work,” I explained and moved to leave the room, but Minjoon stopped me with his hand gently grabbing my arm. I froze and turned to him, clocking in his sheepish expression with lips pursed as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t decide how.

“What’s up?” I asked gently, turning to face him fully and give him my attention, hoping it would coax him into spilling whatever he was holding inside. He smiled at me blindingly and it instinctually made me smile too.

“Thanks for taking on the files,” he said and I felt my smile slipping a little, but held on steadfast, “Of course I’ll try to help you with it as much as possible when I have the free time for it.” For what felt like the thousandth time that day I nodded to avoid actually speaking on my feelings. I didn’t really know what I would tell him anyway. That I hoped that now that I was a part of the team officially I wouldn’t just get saddled with the desk work? I was grateful they wanted to take me to the site with them and I knew that my task was also important, but it still felt like I was a secretary to a detective team instead of fully being part of the investigation too.

“I knew I could count on you,” Minjoon sighed relieved and patted my head, ruffling my hair a bit in the process, “The moment Park mentioned this collaboration happening, I knew that I wanted to push for your participation. I’m glad he listened to me in the end.” My eyes widened enough to almost fall out of the sockets.

“You pushed me through to the team?” I asked totally flabbergasted. Minjoon only nodded with a mischievous expression. “You were so passionate about this from the beginning, I knew you had it in you to make it here,” he told me encouragingly. Warmth filled me from the inside, gratefulness almost making my eyes water as I took the information in.

“Thank you Minjoon,” I said as sincerely as I possibly could, “Truly, it means everything to me.” The man winked and then moved to leave the conference room. Right before he walked out he threw one last glance at me and said: “Don’t stay up too late.”

I was left standing there long minutes after the door banged shut after him, just processing the whole situation. There was still leeway for me to gain respect through this, I just had to prove myself. I had to go along and give it my hundred and ten percent, and with Minjoon on my side it was still possible for me to find my way into this unit. With new determination I set on, quickly copying the files and making my way to my car.

Sitting behind the wheel, I suddenly didn’t quite know what to do. Somewhere deep down I wanted to have one last showdown with Yoongi before disappearing. The way we left things was too open and there were things that needed to be said now. On the other hand, it would be a ballsy move to just disappear after what I pulled in his office a week ago. I was torn, but still, I already knew what I would end up doing.

I’ve already come to recognise the pattern – I would get upset at work, I would drive to Yoongi trying to prove something to myself, I would embarrass myself in front of him and then I would regret it and go home chastising myself for getting tangled into his games. But knowing it didn’t make the prospect of arguing with Yoongi over nothing any less tantalising.

And I had a big win under my belt now. I desperately needed to know, needed to see the effect of my office stunt.

Before I could talk myself out of it I put the car in gear and started driving in the direction of Pied Piper. It was too late for Yoongi to still be at the office, unless there were special circumstances, and between all his joints and businesses, I’ve found Pied Piper to be the safest bet when I wanted to find him quick. Glancing at the files sitting on my passenger seat I steeled myself and drove mindlessly, already knowing the road there by heart.

Thirty minutes later (because Itaewon was absolutely packed and I could barely make my way through the streets, not to mention park) I was marching up to the Pied Piper bouncers as I’d done countless times before, playing the part of the big bad detective as best as I could.

“Tell boss Lee Y/N’s here,” I told one of the muscley bald men immediately as I was within earshot. He gave me an unimpressed look, eyes sliding from my head all the way to my toes with mocking eyes, before he scoffed.

“Boss isn’t here,” was all he said before he turned away from me, ignoring me in a way that was supposed to send me home with my tail tucked between my legs. Instead I rolled my eyes and loudly scoffed back.

“Look, whatever he told you about taking or not taking visitors, just use your walkie-talkie and say my name, I assure you he’ll want to see me,” I played up my annoyance, putting my hands on my hips and tapping my foot impatiently, admittedly probably looking pretty funny to the guys even though I was trying to be so tough to sway them. I was surprised I wasn’t already a known face around here to be perfectly honest, but it is true that I’ve never recognised any of the men even after numerous visits, so the chance I was talking to someone new every time, or at least that enough time has passed to make them forget about me, was extremely high.

The man turned back to me with an outright hostile face and I froze for a moment, fear gripping me for split second before I threw him a glare of my own. The situation was quickly spinning out of control and I didn’t know for how long I’d get away with messing with them, but before I had to start thinking about plan B, the other bouncer turned to us.

“He’s telling the truth, boss isn’t in tonight,” he said in a much more mellow voice, determined to keep the peace. I immediately changed my attitude, giving him a tight smile.

“Where is he then? Dynamite? The hotel?” I fired a question after question and it made the bouncer regard me with a glint of amusement in his eyes, like a giant that was watching a kitten fight for its life.

“I have no idea,” was all he said. I kept waiting for him to elaborate, but once enough time has passed I realised he just wasn’t going to say anything more. I narrowed my eyes at him, which he seemed to be quite enjoying seeing me pissed.

“You don’t know or you can’t tell?” I asked him again, the tapping of the foot back, and I felt a little too much like a toddler throwing a tantrum in the supermarket. He just shrugged and shook his head. “We’re way too low in the food chain to have information about his whereabouts,” the first bouncer grumbled under his breath without glancing our way, keeping his eyes on the line of impatient club-goers trying to get in.

“Okay then,” I drawled out annoyed, “Is Taehyung in?” No matter how much I preferred not meeting the overly flirty man, he would definitely know where to find Yoongi or just call him over, so it was worth surviving his company for one evening. But the way the second bouncer smiled like a cat that was about to eat an unguarded piece of meat, I already knew the answer before he even opened his mouth.

“Nope,” he drawled out the p and released it in an annoying pop, grinning at me like it made his entire evening. I rolled my eyes at him but didn’t dignify it with an answer.

“Alright, is Jimin at The Rose?” I was literally grasping at the straws bringing up the man I haven’t even officially met yet, but it was my last shot unless I wanted to go annoy Namjoon who for sure was still sitting in that little office of his. But I made such a great job of totally avoiding him and I’d rather keep it that way. There was just something about him that made me tense and uncomfortable.

“It’s highly possible,” ground out the first bouncer, clearly done with our bullshit. I gave them a fake smile and if my eyes could kill, both of them would have already been speared through four times over, but judging by the barely concealed snickers of the second bouncer, he was having the best time ever. I rolled my eyes at him one last time and then walked off without another word.

The drive to The Rose took me another additional 20 minutes, but thankfully this part of the entertainment block was far less crowded as it was too high-end for most. The line in front of the door was much shorter and consisted mostly of young women, most of them likely hoping they would be able to bag a filthy rich good-for-nothing as they excitedly gazed at the building and made eyes at the bouncers hoping they would be let in. The guys standing here were also very well dressed, both sporting nice suits with monochrome t-shirts in dark colours, hair swept and gelled up as if they were part of the exclusive clientele.

I almost felt ashamed walking up to them wearing my crinkled work clothes, hair no doubt so messy I must have looked half insane from the back. I regretted not at least brushing through it once in the car, but now it was too late as I was making my way along the line trying to look as confident as possible. I ignored the dirty looks from the ladies for skipping the line and showing up looking almost like a homeless person and instead carried myself until I stood directly in front of the two men guarding the door.

“Is Park Jimin here tonight?” I asked, pushing down the feelings of annoyance at the mounting sense of déjà vu. I just hoped I wouldn’t helplessly spin in circles here as well. All I wanted was to laugh in Yoongi’s face a little, but apparently universe chose this moment for some karmic warning. I swear to god in the past few months those bastards were almost at every corner I went to, it was literally impossible to dodge them, and now this one evening I can’t get hold of anyone? What was this bullshit?

The men regarded me with their impassive gazes, also judging me from head to toe, before one of them turned towards the door and discreetly pulled out a walkie-talkie. I sagged in relief as that was a good sign. Jimin was most likely here and probably open to visitors.

The man turned back to me and only huffed out “name?” without any preamble. I quickly stuttered it out, the nerves now taking over as I realised I would have to face the man for the first time ever completely alone, both without a police partner or Yoongi present.

The man relayed the information and within seconds I was being ushered through the door inside, catching spiteful jealous glances from the line of hopeful visitors. If you knew why I was here girls, you’d be a lot less ruffled about it.

The bouncer didn’t leave my side for a second, hand firmly planted on my shoulder as he steered me through the fancy club. I was infinitely grateful for his paranoia as I’ve never been here before and had no clue where to go. He led me to a discreet staircase at the furthest wall from us, hidden directly behind the bar. At first I thought he would bring me to a secluded little area in the VIP zone like in Dynamite or Pied Piper, but I quickly realised this was way too hidden to be meant for public use.

My confusion and unease continued to mount as we climbed those stairs and the sounds from the club died down to a near complete silence except for the bass of the music reverberating through the walls. Up on the little standing was a tiny area for waiting, containing a small sofa and table set with some dried flowers as decoration. And directly in front of us as we got up was an ornate dark wood door, perfectly fitting into the whole vibe of flamboyant wealth.

The bouncer finally let me go to shortly knock on the door and then walked straight off, leaving me standing there with my mouth opening and closing like a beached fish. Before my confusion led me to do something even more stupid, the door swung open and there he stood, Park Jimin, god amongst men, giving me a megawatt smile, laying his charm on so thick I could laugh. With a wide gesture he invited me inside what I now realised must have been his office.

I walked in unsurely, head flitting from side to side trying to take everything in, the nervousness reaching crescendo, especially when I heard the door click shut behind us. I quickly turned to face the man again and he was smiling just as seductively and invitingly as before, now gesturing to the lavish red sofa taking up the corner of the room.

“Please, do have a seat,” he said languidly, the words flowing out of him smoothly and wrapping around me like a ribbon, his voice as mesmerising as siren’s song. Eyes wide and shocked silent, I just went with it and almost unwittingly moved over to the corner to sit. From here I could see the whole room, the bookcases filled with books, files and memorabilia, the massive dark wood desk situated right opposite of the door and the art on the walls depicting various landscapes.

“They’re all legitimate, mostly 19th century European painters,” Jimin supplied immediately as he saw me watching the framed pieces, “Joonie-hyung and Tae have an interest in art. They occasionally buy some and put it in our houses or offices.” I felt myself steadily blushing more and more under his intense gaze, his blonde hair swept out of his face in a way that perfectly accentuated his sharp face and his plump reddish lips pulled into a soft smirk. It wasn’t the same way Yoongi smirked, no, this was a smirk of a man who knew he was beautiful and could sway people only with few heated looks and sweet words.

He slowly walked over and took a seat next to me, making me quickly look away and feign disinterest, almost going to the extent of picking at my nails just to put some barrier between us. I wasn’t used to encountering men like Park Jimin and I felt like a fish out of water here in his office, sitting on his no doubt extremely expensive couch.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked courteously, elegantly gesturing to the closed bar to my left. I immediately shook my head, already far too acquainted with how it went with them.

“I’m here by car,” I told him resolutely, but he only smiled sweetly. He shifted closer to me slightly, hand curling along the top of the sofa until his hand almost touched my shoulder, and he curled his fingers as if going to caress my arm. I felt like a stone statue, just sitting there watching him, terrified and nervous and confused in the face of his approach.

“I’m sure we could arrange a way for you to get home by other means,” he said leisurely, hand staying firmly put just a ghost’s breath away from the goosebumped skin of my upper arm. At this point my brain finally started catching up with me and going back online.

I knew he only flirted with me this aggressively for two reasons – either he was buying time or he was scoping me out just like Taehyung had back then when we first officially met. I was betting on the second option.

“No, thank you,” I finally said firmly, “I’m not really much of a drinker.” That had the man snorting and he relaxed into the soft pillows. I threw him a confused look at such a reaction.

“So I’ve heard,” he explained with an amused glint in his eyes, “Jin-hyung would love you. He’s always trying to get us to drink less.” Then he put a finger to his  pouting lips in a thinking motion, making a whole act of it with his eyes flitting from side to side as well.

“But on a second thought, he’s not currently too impressed with you,” Jimin giggled like we were sharing high school level secrets and not talking about extremely dangerous men potentially having it out for me, “So maybe he wouldn’t be too hot about your drinking habits.” With that he snickered some more, entertained eyes watching me with a disconcerting undertone of detachment and cold calculatedness.

So Jimin was the type to not censor himself too much, talking quite freely about things I could never get out of the others, even though the topics were still carefully measured. He didn’t seem like someone that tiptoed around things and rather preferred to be a little more open. But there was a deceptiveness in this approach as well and I imagined he would be quite good at slowly talking all of your secrets out of you.

“I’m sure he shares that sentiment with the driver,” I hesitatingly played along, on purpose choosing to not to use Jungkook’s name to spite him once Jimin told him about our conversation, “He seems to despise me. I truly have no idea why; I’ve never done anything to him.” I put on the innocence act so thickly it circled back into sarcasm, and I couldn’t help the little smirk at knowing that at least the youngest was the one person I would always manage to get pissed off. I didn’t seem to be having much luck with it with the others. Especially now that I would prefer to dodge all Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin.

Jimin threw his head back with his hearty high-pitched laugh, delighted at the dig at their youngest. When his eyes trained back onto me, they were no less dangerous but a lot more intrigued. I realised that while he was sitting very comfortably with one leg under the other, side leaning on the sofa and his hand still hanging between us leisurely, I sat next to him as stiff as a log with my hands nervously picking at the hem of my t-shirt. I tried to relax a little more, but it seemed impossible next to such a natural predator. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I just stumbled right into a dragon’s mouth.

This guy was intense, and I suddenly found myself missing Yoongi’s annoying jabs and smug self-assured smirks. At least I could match his and Jungkook’s energy, but Jimin just kept throwing me off, and it didn’t help that he was one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen.

“While I do love this small talk at Kookie’s expense,” Jimin said finally after just staring at me trying to get comfortable with a barely concealed entertained grin, “But tell me, officer, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

He was back to his flirtatious sensual approach with the way he almost purred those words, trying to get a reaction out of me again. He almost succeeded, the blush attempting to rise to my cheeks, but I scolded myself and looked towards the desk to keep a barrier between us.

“Funnily enough, I’m actually looking for Yoongi,” I muttered, trying to sell it as a serve to knock him down a little, but I was too unsure of myself and honestly done with this whole fucking evening. Jimin pouted, his full lips curling down sullenly before they pulled into a smirk again.

“Figures, but here I was… hoping you’d finally come to meet me too,” he flirted some more, putting on almost a little breathless tone, “since all the others already got the pleasure.”

“I haven’t met the doctor yet,” I blurted out without thinking, immediately mashing my lips shut in embarrassment. Jimin giggled lightly.

“That’s true,” came his sing-song voice, “Thank you for comforting me.” Before I could say anything, there was a knock at the door. I watched as Jimin’s sweet flirty mask fell right off of his face, eyes flickering with a hint of irritation and expression turning colder in an instant.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” he said in what I assumed was his normal tone of voice, pretty face hardening with the hint of annoyance. I was totally dumbfounded, rendered speechless by such a switch up, eyes still glued to his form as he moved through the room to open the door. At least I knew he didn’t care about keeping up his performance in front of me, that had to count towards something. He probably got from me whatever it was he was looking for. I nervously went through our interaction up until now trying to decipher what it could have been, but came up empty.

Now that the sofa was empty and the man was on the other side of the room, I finally had space to breathe and sank a little into the lavish furnishing. The door swung open with one swift motion of his arm and without giving the person on the other side a chance, Jimin said: “I said no interruptions.” His eyes screamed some kind of warning to them and I straightened a little. “I have a guest,” were Jimin’s next words and the person wordlessly slinked away, Jimin immediately shutting the door.

I gave him a look, which he returned with an amused smile, much realer this time. There seemed to be something a little mocking in his eyes and it creeped me out, it made him seem much less human and more like a vampire that was about to suck me empty of my blood. I quickly shook my head to push that silly thought away and focused on him properly again.

“Sorry detective, but I’m sure you’d understand that I wouldn’t want to bore you with all the business talk,” he said pointedly, voice hiding a warning to me as well not to probe more. In these circumstances I had no other choice but to comply, I wasn’t properly armed to deal with him one on one at this point; and I’d rather not provoke him when I barely even knew him. Maybe I’d be a little braver with Yoongi present, but as it stood now I was simply at a disadvantage.

“Of course,” I replied just as courteously as when he invited me to sit on the sofa. To that Jimin gave me an amused smile but was obviously pleased with my quick surrender.

“I heard what you did in hyung’s office,” he stated suddenly matter-of-factly, and I was sure that if I had been drinking something I’d choke. The blush was fighting its way back onto my face having been confronted with the information like this by Jimin of all people, who was watching me entertained by my reaction.

“He had something of mine. Besides, I’m afraid that’s between me and Yoongi,” I managed to squeak out, avoiding his gaze to keep at least the illusion of unbotherness, “and Jungkook I guess.” Jimin leaned on the massive desk, making himself comfortable there as well, eyes now appraising me more sharply with all the sweetly flirty aura gone. I squirmed in my place under such scrutiny, nervousness hitting me in overwhelming waves.

“Well, you’re in luck, because one of them is making their way here right now,” Jimin said in the end, some of the sharpness melting away a little. I had no idea what he really was looking for, but whether he found it or not, he seemed at least a little satisfied with my reaction. Which didn’t help me calm down at all, he was still freaking me out but in a completely different way than Namjoon did. Yoongi definitely chose his companions well, all of these men had something in them that gave me the creeps.

“I’d hope it’s Yoongi, I’m not sure Jungkook coming here would mean anything good for me,” I shuddered at the thought, all of the pictures of the younger man with Hoseok and the implicit but very clear connection between them and their work resurfacing to the forefront of my mind and setting an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Jimin laughed, as carefree as ever, head lightly tipping back with the motion. When he looked back at me, something dangerous glinted in his eyes.

“You don’t even know how right you are, detective,” he remarked somewhat ominously, a dark edge creeping into his amused voice, “But I don’t think you need to worry about that right now.” The unspoken yet in there put me on edge, but I was well aware of what happened to people that posed a danger to Yoongi and his position. Even if he wouldn’t send a police officer to the bottom of the river, that didn’t mean I was safe from a potential retribution.

I returned his gaze as steadily as I could, trying to push down all the swirling wisps of fear and unsettlement licking at my heart but I had no idea how successful I really was. There was nothing I could read from Jimin’s carefully guarded face as we sat there for a few tense silent moments and sized each other up, before Jimin suddenly perked up again with a full grin and gestured to the bar again.

“You sure I can’t tempt you into a drink?” he tried for the third time and I almost for a few seconds considered saying yes, but quickly shut that part of me down. Instead I gave him a polite smile and shook my head, the tension creeping back into my back and shoulders the longer we sat there.

Jimin seemed to be quite content with leaving me to stew in my own head, watching amusedly as I squirmed around on the sofa and sent him nervous glances the longer the silence stretched on. I surely had no particular topics to discuss with him and Jimin was suddenly as quiet as a mouse.

Just as I was considering just getting up and leaving to escape the oppressive aura in the room, the door opened and my head snapped in the direction of the movement. At first I could only see a veiny calloused hand in a black jacket before slowly the rest of the man came into view. Yoongi walked in leisurely, like he was on his personal runway, a relaxed smirk on his face as his eyes flitted between the two of us. His hair was messy and it was the first time I saw him not perfectly put together and in more casual clothes.

The way my whole body decompressed in relief upon seeing his smug face was actually embarrassing and it left me flushed and avoiding his gaze. But Jimin was stressing me out for the past twenty minutes and it was impossible to match his energy like I’d learnt with Yoongi. With him it was already a stable ground for me, Jimin on the other hand left me scrambling to reconsider my strategy every few minutes. I hadn’t even realised, but I was mentally exhausted after the almost half an hour we spent here alone, not to mention the long draining day I had.

I felt like a little kid whose mom left him in the cashier line to run for something last minute and finally returned just in time to handle the check out.

He didn’t speak to me at all at first, instead went straight for Jimin. They exchanged pleasantries and whispered to each other for a moment before the blond man moved back to the sofa to sit down next to me, while Yoongi made himself comfortable in the big leather chair behind the table.

I sent a wary glance at the new occupant and inched a little away from him, my nerves so high strung I felt like a bow string about to snap. Finally, Yoongi’s amused eyes set on me and his lips curled arrogantly as they usually did, and I found some security in the familiarity of it all.

“How sweet of you to turn half the Seoul upside down for me,” was how he greeted me and I couldn’t help the scowl, “The boys told me how desperate you were for me.” That could have only meant the two bouncers at Pied Piper that were just intent on screwing me over and playing with me, and now no doubt intent on embarrassing me further. I fought off any kind of blush that could be induced by his choice of words and instead glared at him in annoyance.

“What can I say, I’m used to always finding you when I want it,” I retorted back firmly, cursing them both for coming out with such flirty personas, “You’re quite the creature of habit.” Yoongi’s lips spread in a mean grin, eyes glinting with something darker than I was used from him.

“I was enjoying some company tonight,” he said matter-of-factly, eyes quickly flicking up to me to gauge my reaction, “Forgot I have a needy little detective to take care of.” There was an actual tinge of annoyance in his voice as he said that, and it took me a moment to clock it. I rolled my eyes at him so vehemently I felt a warning pang of an onsetting headache, now wishing I had said yes to Jimin’s offer so I could theatrically sip on a drink.

That explained a lot about tonight – his unknown location, his rumpled appearance and the sudden twinge of irritation that was so hard to come by with this man. Jimin probably pulled him here before he got any action and now he was mad at me for ruining his fun. My lips immediately curled up, mouth fighting off the huge, entertained grin that wanted to split my face in half, a laugh clawing its way out of my throat, and I lost to it. I quickly turned my head away from him before the laugh overtook me, politely trying to hide the amusement with my hand, but to no avail. He still saw my shoulders shaking and my barely concealed snickering.

When I turned back around, expression still painted with too much mirth, I found that his usually smug smirk was twitching in displeasure on his face. It almost made me want to laugh again, like when you’ve finally calmed down after a fit and then made eye contact with your friend and started all over again, but this time I more or less managed to swallow it down. No pun intended. A new wave of giggles threatened to hit me as I rode the high of finally being the one that laughs at him being mad and not the other way around, but I curbed my enthusiasm somewhat. And to think it was about something as stupid as this. Well, if for nothing else, at least today’s meeting cockblocked him, that would be some payback.

“I’m so sorry for ruining your evening fun,” I managed to choke out, still fighting to calm down a little, “I’m sure you can get your dick sucked tomorrow.” Jimin next to me also seemed to be pushing down some giggles of his own, quickly gulping down whatever it was he had in a glass that I didn’t notice him pouring, eyes stubbornly watching the door instead of his disgruntled hyung.

There was just something so human about Yoongi getting mad about this and it reminded me that no matter what, we were both just people, not only criminals and detectives. It made me feel like more like I was attending a college party instead of chasing after a mobster.

“So what do you need tonight?” Yoongi grumbled finally, giving Jimin a chastising look, “I doubt you came here to laugh at me.” I smirked wickedly again, really fucking wishing I had a glass for the dramatic effect, but instead I just leisurely drummed on my knee with my fingers.

“Actually, funny you say that,” I told him smugly, “because I did.” A spark of recognition bloomed through Yoongi’s eyes, and he suddenly relaxed into the chair, the arrogant aura back full force. My heart stuttered a little in anxiousness, hoping I’d manage to stay on the high horse for a little while longer.

“I see,” Yoongi purred out in the manner that annoyed me the most when we interacted, gaze lazily sliding over me from the corner of his eyes, “so this is about the tracker.” I gulped, holding onto the confidence I felt just a minute ago for dear life and trying to come across just as relaxed and smug as he was all the time. He had much more practice in that though, and I would always tell on myself somehow.

Not really thinking of a smart retort fast enough, I only hummed and smiled in what I hoped was a mysterious way. That made Yoongi laugh a little, but it wasn’t demeaning, no, it was more a laugh of incredulity, the kind that didn’t set me alight with fiery rage but the kind that had me preening inside knowing I’d managed to one up him, if only for a moment.

“I must say, I cannot quite explain with words the disbelief I felt upon discovering that a police officer just looted my office desk and so shamelessly stole from me. And right on camera too,” Yoongi’s voice was amused, laced with little puffs of laugh, “How very naughty of you, detective.” He tsked at me playfully, but there was something else in his voice. Something that took me embarrassingly long to recognise, something that for a brief confusing moment made me strangely proud and happy and then promptly filled me with dread. Awe. Respect. Yoongi was delighted with what I’d done.

“But very good, officer,” the man continued, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil, “Well played. And now we’ve switched roles, haven’t we? Now you have something of mine.” I felt like I was hit with a bucket full of ice, something freezing and acidic setting into the pit of my stomach and making my insides churn. I sat there, totally petrified, watching the dark-haired man sitting behind the massive desk like he owned half the world and all the people in it. And with terror I realised, he did.

“But because I am so gracious and because, as you put it, I have an endless supply of illegal shit,” he winked quickly, using the words I’d told him just few weeks earlier while giving him a parking ticket, “I’ll allow you to keep it. No need to return. What’s a tracker or two between friends, isn’t that right officer?”

I finally managed to school my expression, reacting to his lopsided smirk with a steely cold grin of my own as we stared each other down, completely ignoring the presence of another person in the room with us. Inside I stoked the fires of anger and annoyance I felt all the times we’ve interacted before, anything to override the horror that gripped me at how genuinely proud I was for a moment knowing I did something he truly had to respect.

“We’re many things, Min Yoongi,” I growled out, “But friends definitely isn’t one of them.” To that he only lazily smirked my way, leaning back into his chair.

“Aren’t we?” he asked jovially, “Isn’t a part of what friends do that they keep each other’s secrets? We’ve been doing a very good job of that lately.” I scowled at him, but before I could say anything, he continued.

“Speaking of that,” he drawled out, “I’m quite disappointed with you. I thought you’d have my file memorised, but obviously you don’t keep that much of a close eye on me.” There was a beat of silence during which I only looked at him mildly irritated and confused, not knowing where this jab was coming from.

A giggle to my right pulled my eyes there and I once again found myself under the intense scrutiny of Jimin’s eyes. His were sharply watching our exchange, some sort of dark joy setting into them making me shudder.

“You forgot hyung’s birthday,” Jimin drawled out, fake pouting at me. He was once again putting on the act he had when I arrived here and I narrowed my eyes at him, now more confident and definitely angrier than I was before.

“I waited for whole two weeks, thinking you’d bring it up, but I see that it completely slipped your mind,” Yoongi immediately jumped on, the two men sending each other giggly looks and I realised they were taking the piss out of me. The fight drained out of me and instead I committed to memory how Yoongi seemed to be more relaxed today and even joked around like this with Jimin, joining in on his mischief. I wondered if it was because it was Jimin or because it was due to today’s circumstances, but he was different and it had my insides twist in a confusing cocktail of emotions.

“The only time I’ll wish you happy birthday is after I’ve put you behind bars,” I say, making my voice as impassive and steady as possible, throwing in a little weak but still hopefully mean smile. Yoongi’s eyes on me sharpened a little, the smirk growing darker, as if he was challenging me, as if he was both amused by and supportive of my resolution.

“Well, it looks like I’ll never hear those two words from you, but don’t worry,” he gave me another wide grin, “when your birthday comes in autumn, I’ll be the first to congratulate you.”

I didn’t like to think about how close I was skirting the boundary with Yoongi, that there were lines smudging from a police officer and a criminal into just rivals ribbing each other and egging each other on, trying to irritate the other more every time they meet. When I met him with him, I rarely tried to do any constructive helpful investigating, instead we just barked at each other and threw jabs around until one of us grew too irritated to continue. I wasn’t particularly proud of myself in those moments.

The moment I walked into his world, I ceased to be a detective and turned into a little annoying brat just trying to provoke a guy I didn’t like.

The last time we saw each other was a huge breakthrough for me in this regard. I realised just how much I was playing with fire, smudging those lines. I had to be able to keep my head on straight when we talked, I had to pay more attention to useful details instead of trying to get a rise out of him. I had to go back to square one and reassess the situation, find a clear goal and only interact with him in a way that helps me reach it.

The strange feelings surrounding Yoongi’s sudden clear sign of approval of my ways, that I rather decided not to unpack yet. I decided to stay away for some time anyway, and it would help me avoid this for as long as possible.

That’s how I found myself sitting in my room one Saturday evening, staring at the fucking map wall in my apartment surrounded by files upon files detailing cruel and vicious murders. Since my map was quite full with the information I gathered from my unlawful loitering (as Jungkook once put it when he bumped into me around the office building), and adding more unrelated info to it would only make it messy, I bought another map.

I cleared out another wall, shuffling furniture away, taking down pictures and decorations so I would have enough space for a fucking murder map. Right across from my bed. I got to wake up to this every day, lucky me. But it helped me orientate myself between everything that was brought up. And this one at least felt a little more temporary.

I started with Yoongi’s, moving some strings around. Removing Hoseok’s bright yellow string from the Songhyeong-dong warehouse, I sighed as I remembered that whole fiasco. It was probably safe to say that he either didn’t have his base there, or he barely spent his time there anyway and thus it wouldn’t be very useful. But he had to have some office, otherwise it would be impossible to keep up with everything. Yoongi and Namjoon had their offices, Taehyung’s was in Pied Piper and Jimin’s in the Rose, Jin had his practice, on Jungkook’s I had a hunch – the only one I still had no clear address on was Hoseok. And I wasn’t even sure where he lived. I knew he moved about the docks during the day a lot, but he had to have a base.

But there was always a possibility that Hoseok’s office was shared with their youngest, which was a member of the gang that I explored the least. First of all, he was impossible to trail, but that might have been when I still had the tracker on so it could be worth another try. The second part was the one that truly kept me away from him though. He didn’t hesitate to show his distaste in me, and I already started to catch wind of how he and Yoongi butted heads when it came to how much I was allowed to engage. Thus, if he caught me focusing on him, it could potentially have some devastating consequences and I was hesitant to risk that.

But – I knew where he could have his office. I mean, it must have been there unless they pulled a fast one and put him into the same building as Yoongi and Namjoon, which I thought I would have noticed by now.

Jungkook was the owner of a security company, the one that kept an eye on Yoongi and employed his closest bodyguards, like that guy that brought me coffee while I was staking out Hoseok that I later found in the military database as Choi Soobin, one of the top operatives of Jungkook’s company. He owned it in the same way that Taehyung owned the Pied Piper or Jimin owned The Rose, but from some surface digging it seemed this business was one that Yoongi directly interacted with the least.

Hoseok was formally employed by a shipping company under Yoongi’s wide wings of corporations, but their headquarters were a small rundown building by the Bukseong Dock and when I was messing around there, I didn’t see him come in once. And if their job in the gang was truly so similar, it would make sense that Hoseok would also be stationed in Jungkook’s company, also considering it was much closer to the centre and thus closer to Yoongi and the others, which the port wasn’t.

I would have to investigate that properly, bite the bullet and follow around Jungkook for a while and see whether I would have more luck in locating the ever so elusive sunshine of the group. Problem was more that I would never be allowed to come in like with Yoongi’s office. Even if Hoseok was as forthcoming as Taehyung and Jimin, Jungkook would never allow that unless I brought the proper paperwork or had a legitimate reason for my visit. I doubt I’d make it past the reception.

I jotted this all down around the map and moved on to the other a little smaller one that was now occupying the neighbouring wall. For that one I brought a whole new set of pins and colourful strings as I would need a lot of colours. I spent the last two days going through the extra cases Sunmi and Seungcheol brought over, not eliminating anything yet and just soaking up the information.

So, that night, I spent hours meticulously going through each file and marking the place on the map along with a note with the victim’s name, date of murder and manner of death. It was a gruesome and macabre way of spending my evening, but I had to see it all before me like this to start making sense of anything.

I ended up with fifteen additional spots across the whole of Seoul, each marking a murder potentially linked to my “friend” Min Yoongi. Lastly, I added in the pin and information for our main case, the multiple homicide that kickstarted all of this.

Roughly I went across the areas that I knew were around Yoongi’s businesses and therefore “his turf” with a red marker, already seeing some overlay. Unfortunately I didn’t have that much of an extensive knowledge on Kim’s turf, but I’d fill it in eventually. For now, I focused on trying to see whether any of the murders took place around any places I knew were owned by the Min gang and when I found some, I marked them with a big red circle. Those would be my priority.

Huffing out a tired sigh, I went to sleep that night with a heavy heart and brain that just wouldn’t shut up.

Monday morning it was finally time to meet up with Seungcheol and Sunmi at the scene of the murder, as they were preoccupied before now. I could barely sleep the night before, both nervousness about seeing it and excitement about being involved not letting me have a peaceful night. Even though the place must have been long since cleaned up, I still never went to an active crime scene like this before and my stomach was tied up in knots knowing I was about to walk somewhere people have been murdered.

Thus I found myself nervously shuffling from foot to foot in front of the warehouse at 6 am, a whole hour before our agreed time. I told myself I would at least check out the perimeter, but really I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in without a warrant and all the paperwork was with Minjoon. In my arms I nervously clutched the copied files, the contents burning through to my sweaty hands. I spent some time looking around the port, finding my gaze straying south ever so often.

Just the little pond across, there was the cursed Songhyeon-dong warehouse. If I strained my eyes real hard I could almost see its roof laughing at me and reminding me of my shame. Yoongi’s warehouses were mainly in that area, with the bigger one in Songhyeon-dong and a few others scattered through Dong-gu and Manseok-dong. He pretty much ruled over the Bukseong Dock area and it was as firmly his turf as it could be, while the Kims mainly kept themselves to the smaller Bukhang Port just above.

The docks were a subject of huge contention between the two gangs, and while they supposedly talked it out and put the conflict to rest, anyone could see that they weren’t on good terms while pretending to be amicable. The Kims, as the second biggest family ruling over Seoul, have always tried to get rid of Yoongi to move to the top spot, and thus there were many clashes between the two, from which Yoongi every single time emerged victorious. He even took some land from them and pushed them more north. After many years of fighting they finally “made a pact”, but truly it was just a promise to keep out of each other’s way.

The ports being this close together only continued to bring up more tensions though, as they were practically stepping on each other’s toes.

If the assumption was true and this murder was the mark of a starting war, we were potentially entering a truly turbulent and truly bloody era in Seoul gang history. I shuddered only thinking about it. Though Yoongi would likely not let himself be dethroned; the fight would absolutely get very ugly very soon. It was in everybody’s best interest that this got dealt with before it got out of hand.

As the violent crime unit arrived a little later, we fell into a comfortable polite small talk, exchanging some jokes tentatively and feeling out the atmosphere between us. When I watched their friendly banter, a pang of jealousy hit my heart again, the disappointment with my own unit’s behaviour still weighing heavy on me, especially when both Seungcheol and Sunmi started asking me about my Academy years and showering me with positive comments and praises about my ranking until I was a blushing giggling mess. For a split second the proud glint in Yoongi’s eyes as he talked about the trackers flashed through my mind and I batted it away so forcefully I almost physically jerked, instead getting filled with guilt and unease. Truly, it was funny how okay I was with committing a crime until Yoongi praised me for it, how pathetically starved for attention and recognition I was that for a shameful few moments I felt pride about it.

Taking a deep breath to calm the raging storm inside me, I tuned back into the excited chatter of the two other officers. I would have time to make this right, but now I had to focus here.

“Are you nervous at all?” Seungcheol asked the moment he noticed me turning my attention to them and I stuttered for a bit, not expecting an immediate question.

“Yeah, I am, a little bit,” I answered him truthfully, looking down at my shoes to avoid the intensity of the topic, “but everybody’s gotta get through it. There’s a first for everything.” I gave them a little uncertain smile and Sunmi patted my shoulder in a cool yet slightly awkward gesture, showing she really wasn’t sure how to approach this situation with enough tact. I laughed at her a little and immediately felt the tension drain, quickly melting into the amicable atmosphere.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said in the end, “and if anything happens, just let us know.” I nodded at her all smiley, muscles much more loose now knowing I wasn’t completely alone here after all. The bitterness at my own unit’s approach still lingered at the edge of my mind, but I tried my best to ignore it and focus on the building before us.

“Did you manage to go through some of the additional cases?” Sunmi spoke up again, watching me casually with her hands hanging off of her jeans pockets. She had a leather jacket on, and her black hair was done in a sort of a messy bun at the back of her head, and I marvelled at how she wasn’t absolutely frying in that, considering the temperatures were steadily and abruptly rising.

“I went through them roughly, but I haven’t started putting them through the database yet,” I answered quickly, maybe a little too eager to speak to someone about the work I’ve done so far, “I put them on a map to see where they took place though. Trying to put into perspective how close they were to Yoon- I mean Min’s establishments.” I cursed myself for the slip up, getting too used to calling him only Yoongi and forgetting that not everyone would be totally cool with me calling him so familiarly when I supposedly wasn’t in contact with him at all. To me he right about now should be only some shadowy dark concept, a phantom that someone else is currently chasing after. Not a very real and very annoying man that I’ve cursed out to his face several times a month since December.

“That’s a pretty good start though,” Seungcheol told me warmly, patting my shoulder, “Once you start going through them properly, keep us updated on anything suspicious that crops up.” I nodded shyly, giving them both a genuine smile and got two very enthusiastic grins back. They continued with the chatter and I kind of listened on half an ear while nervously watching the road for the arrival of others.

Minjoon and Hwang ended up being ten minutes late, rolling up to the warehouse in a station car and with their own copied files of the crime. For a moment we stood there and exchanged yet more pleasantries, but I barely paid attention to whatever was being said. In my mind I kept being pulled to the southern Bukseong Dock, somewhat bitterly pondering whether Hoseok is currently there running around like a busy bee, no care in the world.

Assuming this murder was his work, he really could have done this during lunch break and then cooly return right to his job, like nothing even happened. That’s how close it was.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Minjoon gently laying his hand on my shoulder and with his head gesturing towards the warehouse. I gave him a queasy smile, nervous about entering and just generally guilty about how I’ve been handling everything, the mounting feeling of standing on the precipice of disaster following me around for the past few days, but I swallowed it all down and followed.

The warehouse was small and stuffy, the atmosphere dark with no real windows and no real way to get light inside. There was some furniture left, mostly pushed away from the middle of the room except for one old green sofa and a rackety desk with a few dusty chairs at the other end of the warehouse. There was a lot of mess lying around on the floor, mostly torn bloodied papers, obviously showing signs of the struggle that took place here.

There was a lot of scruff marks on the floor, along with dark stains covering most of the wearied pavement, and on a second look the sofa had similar streaks over it too. I tried to ignore it, stepping from foot to foot and looking over the remnants of the carnage. Due to the warehouse being closed off, there was still plenty of police tape holding onto the doors and the walls with even though police have already cleared it out.

We all simultaneously opened the files and pulled out the pictures, putting the space into the perspective of the crime. I half listened to Seungcheol and Sunmi go over the details again, talking about how they got the call and how they found the place when they came.

“We checked the perimeter too, but they were already gone by the time we got here,” the brunette said while nonchalantly looking around the space. “They must have been warned and ran,” Minjoon mumbled, but barely even looked up from the file, still going through the information again. Sunmi hummed, stopping by the sofa and turning to look at us.

Seuncheol talked some more about what the scene looked like when they arrived, pictures in hands, and I listened as attentively as I could, but there really wasn’t much added that wasn’t already said, so I just bided my time looking around on my own before we return to the station so I could start going through these other files. I also itched to pull Minjoon aside and ask what about this crime struck the unit as Min’s murders and not the Kim’s, what made them decide that this actually was Yoongi related.

I only tuned back in when the conversation turned to issues I haven’t heard anyone speak on yet. The warrants.

“It’s hard to push them through sometimes,” Sunmi was just saying with all the other men nodding solemnly in agreement when I started paying attention again, at first confused what she meant.

“We haven’t even managed to find an angle to slip by easier,” Hwang suddenly piped in after standing in silence in a corner the whole time, just watching us talk, “We even tried getting the info on who’s on shift when, but still it’s hard for them to come through. We’re still working on getting that issue solved.” I looked confusedly to Minjoon, never before having heard them discuss this.

I knew that a lot of the shit I did with Yoongi wouldn’t be enough to get a warrant authorised by the court. The tracking, the tailing, the taking shit from his office, I had warrants for none of that and as long as there were no warrants, anything I found couldn’t be used in the court for I was technically getting the information illegally. I could maybe send in anonymous tips for the police to investigate, but as a detective I couldn’t be bringing this kind of evidence to the table, that was solely for me and for the purpose of better understanding Yoongi and getting a better angle at taking him down legally.

But I had no idea the unit actually did have trouble with getting legitimate warrants against Yoongi, or whoever they were talking about. In the winter, when I asked, Minjoon said the stake outs weren’t done anymore because it took too much time and manpower and the outcome wasn’t good enough to go through with that (I myself found how tailing them was a thankless job that took weeks for a single piece of information to come out of it, so I understood), but he did mention a brief undercover gig, which would need a warrant. Since then, not much has been happening as it seemed that whatever approach or angle, we would hit a stone wall. Yoongi continued to appear impenetrable.

“It must be someone high up then,” Sunmi mused out loud, a hard expression setting over her face and turning her features into stone, “If the warrants aren’t coming through no matter what day or time, it must be someone high.” That got the men humming in agreement again, a sombre atmosphere falling over the warehouse.

“No matter who it is, we might be having trouble getting things authorised, but I would hope that now that there’s five of us on this and we have two whole units backing us up, that they wouldn’t try to mess with it too much,” Minjoon ended the conversation again, everyone now gearing up to leave.

I heard Sunmi say something to Hwang as they moved towards the main entrance, but I hung back for a moment. I’d begun realising in the past few months that I mostly preferred looking over things by myself, for as much as I craved the community, I found myself focusing better when I was on my own, so I wanted to take one last look before I left, comparing it to the pictures. As my eyes flitted from the pictures to the space, comparing every little thing I could spot, I slowly started fleshing out the crime a little more in my mind, putting it into a real space and studying the before and after.

My brain had already started filtering out the actual violence happening in them and I barely paid notice while I tried to focus on the other smaller details in the background. Most of it remained the same, with the exceptions of some of the mess cleared out and a barrel that was smouldering in the photos was now nowhere to be seen.

I was suddenly brought back into the present when a hand clasped my shoulder and I jumped, mouth opened to yelp and my heart almost beating out of my chest. Minjoon came around me with an amused chuckle, hand still firm where he held, and I gave him an embarrassed smile. I’ve been spacing out so much around them lately and it made me really jumpy, if I didn’t get my shit together quick I’d end up looking like a nervous wreck. Which, to be honest, wasn’t that far from the truth.

But there was something strangely vulnerable about showing my nervousness in this situation and I didn’t feel comfortable enough with Minjoon immediately assuming it was all about the blood and murder, when so many events have been weighing down on me these past few days that he didn’t even know about.

As predicted Minjoon looked at me empathically, eyes softening as he moved to pat my back a little. Then he just gestured towards the door. “We’re about to leave, I’ll drive you to the station,” he offered and started pulling us out without waiting for my response. I let him until we stood outside with his car right in front of us.

“I drove here, so I have to go by my car, but thanks for the offer,” I replied softly, a tight-lipped smile making itself home on my face since the feelings of discomfort haven’t fully left me. I hated being perceived as weak and this whole situation was driving me up the wall, but I fought myself to keep it together.

I looked at Minjoon again and by the look on his face and the unsure curve of his mouth as he was about to open it and speak, I was sure he was going to ask me if I was okay, so I beat him to the punch and directed the conversation elsewhere.

“That before, what you were talking about,” I said firmly, ignoring the look of surprise on his face at getting interrupted before even saying anything, “does that mean that there are moles between the prosecutors?” The man schooled his face well, going with the flow as if this was the direction the conversation was going to take from the beginning, and nodded his head with slight unease hanging onto his posture and aura.

“Yeah, we’ve known for a while, but we cannot identify who it is,” the senior detective confirmed, eyes turning a little hard at the thought, “There’s more of them, some even in our lines, we’re sure of that, but it’s hard to go after moles unless you go full scorched earth.” I agreed absent-mindedly, in head already going through the roster of the prosecutors I’ve encountered.

“It’d make sense that he’d have someone in his pocket,” I mused out loud, “probably someone who makes sure the requests don’t make it too high and get turned around at the first corner.” To that Minjoon just hummed and nodded, the conversation fizzling out. We looked around for a moment, just awkwardly standing there, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Hwang impatiently drumming on the hood of Minjoon’s car, stepping from foot to foot and looking more irritated by the second.

I seized the chance to end this exchange here before Minjoon brought it back around to me or before Hwang finally lost it and found a way to be mad at me for this as well. I clapped my hands together loudly.

“Well, we better go,” I let out with faux cheer and started moving down the road to where my own car stood, leaving a stuttering surprised Minjoon behind. Suddenly a thought popped into my head and I turned around on my heel, surprising the poor man even more when I abruptly back-tracked.

“By the way, there’s something I’ve been wondering,” I started, claiming the detective’s attention once more as he turned to me and stepped a little closer, “how did you realise this was the Mins? When you circled back to it, how did you know?” Minjoon’s face bloomed into a seasoned detective’s smile and I could tell he was battling a little between trying to stay mysterious and giving me a whole lesson on gang violence, and I couldn’t fight my own smile too at watching him struggle.

“I thought about it a little, looked at the crime scene photos again,” Minjoon started explaining, “Kims are more known to use guns, while Mins don’t that much, but they are capable of both. This was a homicide that mixed those together, so it really could have been anyone, but usually the cases that we end up attributing to the Kims have a little different MO.” I looked at him expectantly, hoping he’d expand on that, and I could see on his amused face that he was purposedly keeping me in suspense.

“Well, there’s not much to it really,” he continued finally, “in the few cases that are similar to this that we have and we consider them Kim family territory, they stormed in and probably first overpowered them and seemingly tied them up, based on the positioning of the bodies. While the Mins are always up for some good old-fashioned thrashing, when they don’t have time for clean-up they leave more mess. Which would explain why they’re so focused on the clean-up.”

“So when you came back to this case, it seemed more unorganised than if the Kims were behind it,” I finished for him, putting the two and two together quite easily now that he served it to me on a silver platter. He gave me a cheeky grin and nodded.

“It’s all assumptions, but it’s the idea we have about these two disposal teams. It’s always hard to tell and violence has a way masking things and making everything pretty murky. You never really know, but we still try to put some order into it,” Minjoon brought it all to close. Then he once again opened his mouth to speak more and once again got interrupted before anything could come out, but this time it was by disgruntled Hwang who was by now throwing us pointed glares. He cleaned his throat loudly and gestured towards the car, and both me and Minjoon suddenly burst into motion without any other words spoken, only sending each other a little apologetic look as we moved towards our own cars.

I ended up sitting there for a moment longer, once again going through the file of the homicide and this time truly looking at the bodies and their placement. This truly was just pure violence, but now looking at it through Minjoon’s eyes and seeing it as the more violent violence, I still couldn’t fully put it into perspective. The feeling of unease returned, and I quickly turned the pages until I was reading through the report for the thousandth time.

Evidence retrieved from the scene: barrel used to dispose of paperwork. Analysis inconclusive, nothing restored. Well, at least one mystery was solved.

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[erisweekofficial]

Tonight we're delighted to highlight @jules-writes-stories 🧡

If you're looking for a truly exceptional Azris fic, you have to check out Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows. The writing is absolutely beautiful, and it strikes the perfect balance between hurt and comfort. Every detail feels so carefully crafted, from the portrayal of Eris and Azriel to each moment they share. 😭

Also if you are into myth retellings, we are begging you to read this Azris flavored Hades and Persephone retelling that she wrote for Azris week this year. 👀

And be sure to check out allll the fics on her masterlist!

Read on to learn what drew Jules to Eris and what the hounds would say if given buttons. 🐶

Give us a name for one of Eris's brothers!

Sylvan Vanserra is the youngest Vanserra (other than Lucien). He’s quick to laugh, never takes himself too seriously, and readers have called him a cinnamon roll, which is fair. Eris tried to shelter him and Lucien, so he’s less guarded than the other brothers, but don’t sleep on Syl. He definitely has fire in his blood.

Give us a name of his hounds!

Chunky Possum. But let me explain, lol. When I was drafting Just Enough Light, I named Eris’s hounds after (just a few) of my favorite Azris writers. They were meant to be place markers while I thought of original names. But the hounds liked their names, so I left them, and gave some of them back stories. Naming the hounds became a way to show my appreciation for a corner of the fandom that is dear to me. My favorite is Chunky, only because of his backstory. And yes, it will tug at your heartstrings. 

What do you think it was like trying to raise Eris when he was a child? 

Short answer: he was a little fire starter with a smart mouth. Being so brilliant, the fireling likely found ways around doing what he was told and bent the rules to suit his needs. Eris asked questions that stumped his teachers (sometimes on purpose and other times because he was clever and curious). He was full of mischief and a prankster. That said, he was probably under constant pressure to perform, making him highly competitive. I could see little Eris as being lonely, learning at a young age that attachments are liabilities and love must be earned through accolades. 

What drew you to Eris? 

I love monsters and for me, Eris Vanserra is one of the metaphorical monsters of this fandom. He’s both a scapegoat and a martyr. He’s sexy and fetishized: put on a pedestal as often as he's reviled and burned at the stake. I love how Eris can possess all these contradictions and still exist as a character with traits we all universally recognize. He’s interesting and I’m always left wanting to know more. 

Who do you think Eris would want in his inner circle, if he was given a chance to build one?

Lucien. His favorite brother is a clever fox with ties all over Prythian and I want (need) them to be close with an urgency that’s not normal. Nesta Archeron. Eris is canonically drawn to her power and who wouldn’t want Lady Death to have their back? Bonus for Eris: it would piss Cassian off. Lastly, nothing would bring Eris more joy than stealing Azriel from Rhys...for so many reasons. 

If Eris gave his dogs buttons to communicate, what would their options be?

If one wants Eris’s respect, they’ll have to earn it. And one way to do this is through his hounds because they are excellent judges of character. Eris believes that his smokehounds are likely more intelligent than most of the brutes he’s forced to associate with. No, he prefers not to give names– very demure, very mindful.  After meeting someone, the magical canines communicate their first impressions of said individual by pawing at certain buttons with ratings spanning from “burn them alive” to “lukewarm, might burn later” to  “that’s your cauldron blessed mate.” I wonder what the hounds would say about us… 

[kimberbohwrites]

'Ma'am' Chapter Two

Rolan has been pining for an older Tav for some time now. They both think they other hates them and when they realize their error, smut ensues. >Dedicated to @lemonsrosesandlavender and you know why. >Dedicated to @crowwolf and anon for the original prompt that spiraled into 6k words of smut >Dedicated to anyone who identifies as female and has ever felt the struggles of seeing your own beauty and power in a world that wants us to be the opposite. Esp. those of us who might be getting older.

Rated: Explicit, MDNI, Smut Word Count: 2966 Chapter 2/2 Read Chapter One: Tumblr | Ao3 READ ON AO3 (also continued below the line)

Please note: In this I’m writing as Rolan in his 30s and Tav in her 40s with a 10 year age difference.

As the door of his bedroom clicked shut behind him, Rolan immediately found himself flush against the door. You had rushed to claim his mouth once more in an eager kiss. The entire way up from the shop floor he had barely been able to focus, his mind unraveled with lust and need. Soft touches from you had kept him grounded enough to manage his way to the bedroom.

He whimpers as you kiss him, it feels as if it’s been ages since the last one even though he knows only minutes have passed.

“Someone is a little touch-starved, aren’t they?”

Rolan blushes deeply as you whisper the obvious in the darkness.

“I— it’s…”

He sputters trying to answer you. A small part of his brain tells him that he should be embarrassed to already be falling apart so completely under the touch of another. The greater part of him can’t find the will to care at all. Finally, you are touching him, and he can touch you, your beauty and warmth no longer just out of reach.

“It’s okay, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about”

You say as if you can read the scattered thoughts running rampant through his mind.

“I have wanted to touch you for so long Rolan, I promise I’ll make you feel good, okay?”

He nods in response, biting back a whine.

“What do you say?”

He fumbles for a minute and then remembers and with it comes the warmth of arousal pulsing through him once more.

“Yes ma’am”

You reward him immediately with a harder kiss, your tongue sweeping into his mouth. Gods you’re perfect. He’s whimpering into the kiss again when your hands sweep up into his hair, taking it down from his normally neat hairstyle and letting it fall loose on his shoulders. As you comb your fingers through it softly, he kisses down your neck as if to worship every bit of skin he finds.

You moan at the feeling and the sound makes his knees buckle under him again. This time you do notice.

“You poor thing. You should lie down.”

You guide him from the door over to the bed and while standing next to it, give him a few more sweet kisses before pushing him down hard on to it. He lands on his back on the soft sheets. Before he can think, you are on him, straddling his chest and leaning down to kiss him deeply. Rolan can’t help but moan and whimper lightly at the sensation.

“Gods… wanted you… wanted this… so long” he manages to get out between kisses. The words come in deep gasps of air as he wills his body not to give out from sheer ecstasy.

“Me too,” You respond as you sit up and gaze down at him.

You give him a look that seems to be begging a question — is he still enjoying this? Still wanting this?

He nods and whines, bucking his hips up. You’re sitting too high on him for him to find the friction he is seeking, and he lets out a whimper of defeat.

“By all the gods Rolan, look who is being greedy now”

“Please ma’am, please more”

Your smile could light the whole city, he’s sure of it.

“Alright, since you asked so nicely. Are you going to be good for me?”

He nods excitedly.

You smile again.

Then your eyes roam the room looking for something, he’s not sure quite what until your eyes narrow upon spying your quarry.

“Those will do nicely,” you muse to yourself

“Stay right here, like a good boy,”

He squirms a little in anticipation but heeds your order as he watches you climb off him and the bed. You cross the room toward an open closet that is strewn with old things. Upon one the shelves sits a box of old lengths of silk that matched the curtains in the bedrooms. Rolan hadn’t disposed of it yet, the bedroom closet was one of the last things he planned to worry about in the reorganizing of Ramazith Tower. It’s a blessing in disguise as you select a few lengths and turn to him with that foxlike grin.

“Can I use these?”

You say it so sweetly that Rolan almost forgets for a moment that he’s lying painfully hard on his bed, waiting for you. His heart flips flops in his chest at the way your eyes look innocent against the mischievous shape of your mouth. You are strong, brave, bright, and caring — and he is absolutely taken with you.

“Yes, of course.”

Crossing the room back to him, you take command of the situation once more.

“Get up and take off all your clothes,” You order him with that same sweet smile on your face.

“Yes ma’am”

He almost leaps off the bed and into action. Clawing at his own clothing so quickly that it makes you laugh a little despite the situation. Before too long he is naked before you, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths of anticipation. His cock stands proudly at attention, dripping pre-cum in eagerness of what might come next.

“Good boy,” you say, and he doesn’t even bother to fight the way he beams in response. Not that you’d miss the way your words made his cock twitch.

“Can I tie you up? Would that be okay?”

Rolan nearly passes out at the thought. Never had he considered being tied up in such a manner and now at the mere suggestion of it he is almost coming completely untouched. The whimper of need he responds with is quite loud.

“Please, ma’am,”

“Please what? Good boy?”

He shifts and squirms again. The feelings running through him feel stronger than any wine or drink could ever compare to. Is it possible to be drunk on a person? He wonders to himself. Here he is ready to throw his pride away in this moment for you and he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Please… tie me up…Ma’am”

He grits out the words, still trying to save a little face by trying to hold on to that grouchy personality that protects him from the world.

“On the bed”

You order as you approach and help guide him where you want him with a caring touch. Every so often you drop your face down to a different part of his skin and leave hot kisses in your wake. His body feels like it’s on fire from the combination of stimulation.

“Fuck” He hisses out.

His wrist is in your gentle grasp as you begin to tie it carefully to the closest post. You repeat this action three more times with each limb, so patiently and delicately checking to make sure the knots were firm— but also being sure they wouldn’t cause pain. You looked up at his face questioningly between each, making sure he was still okay and felt safe in this moment.

Rolan was grateful for it. While he didn’t know yet how to articulate it, he was fragile in so many ways from mishandling over his life. From parents who dumped him away as a baby to a city that would exile him for no crime other than existing. Hells, even the damage that his predecessor did to him in the short months of his apprenticeship was more than what the average person might suffer in their lives. Some part of you must have known, always known, he mused to himself, that he was fragile.

And yet you waited patiently for him anyway. He thought.

Rolan hadn’t been in love before and he wasn’t even sure if you even could fall in love with someone as they tied you to a bedpost, but if it was, he was certain that this was the case. He loved you. Now wasn’t the time to tell you, but he would and soon. He’d take you for dinner and by candlelight he’d tell you that he loved you and never wanted to be without you.

But for right now he was just a man tied to his own bed. There was a certain freedom in it he found himself thinking, as strange as it may seem. As soon as you took control, he felt a weight lift from him, the panic about the Tower, the worry over his siblings, the fears of inadequacy that have always haunted them ��� it’s like you could mute them simply by taking charge. There was a blissful peace in it.

He felt your fingertips ghost up his leg and snapped out of his thoughts, you’d finished securing him and were tracing his infernal ridges as you worked your way back up to him. Finally, you came to sit down on the bed next to him. It was only then that he realized he was nude you were still fully clothed. You looked at him with an almost devilish quality in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

He whimpers as his mind reels, trying to parse out what it is he wants. He knows he need only ask.

“T-touch me, please ma’am, touch me”

“Of course, because you asked so sweetly”

You run your hands over his torso, and he immediately groans at the feeling. Your skin is softer than anything he’s ever felt. Brushing your fingers across his nipples gently earns you a hiss that causes him to shift slightly, already seeking relief. His cock is throbbing, impossibly hard from this and he’s certain that he is making a mess of the bedding from the steady stream of pre-cum leaking from it.

“You feel so good Rolan, you’re so warm, I love it”

As you finish your statement one of your hands grazes near his cock ever so slightly and he lets out a loud whine. He finally pulls against his restraints for the first time. The featherlight touches have him close to the precipice before you’ve barely begun, and he is nervous about how long he can last like this.

“You’re so sensitive too, so reactive, it’s perfect”

Your touches continue to his thighs, his abs, finally brushing against his cock once more. Tears well in his eyes and threaten to spill. He can’t form words under these conditions; your praise and your touch have undone him. Then he feels you get off the bed and turns to find you standing once more.

“Noooo” He whines.

“Shhhhh, patience needy one… and you forgot something.”

He gathers his thoughts for a moment.

“Sorry ma’am”

“That’s better, now be patient”

The words are an order, not harshly barked but with enough authority behind them to know that you mean business. He bites his bottom lip to calm himself, careful not to draw blood with his sharp teeth.

You smile down at him as your hands come down to the hem of your tunic to pull it over your head slowly. His chest is pounding in anticipation as you slowly remove each piece of clothing all just out of reach of him. It is both torture and reward, for as you reveal each new bit of skin. He is both thrilled and being driven nearer to madness by the thought of your bare skin against him. After what feels like an eternity you are nude before him and climbing back on to the bed.

Your hand brushes up his cock again. It lurches under your touch, and he groans and tries to position his hips to get more friction.

“This is big, Rolan.”

He can’t help but grin as you grasp him and begin to stroke him. He’s never known where he stood as far as being well-endowed went, but he’ll take your word for it.

“I think you need to make sure I can handle this, want to help?”

He nods eagerly in response, and you smile at him. On your hands and knees, you crawl up the bed to him.

“I think I’m going to sit on that pretty face of yours, is that okay?”

“Fuck,” he hisses out almost coming at the thought, “Yes, please, ma’am”

His words come out as individual pants as he writhes against his bonds once more.

 Leaning down, you give him another kiss, deep and full of affection. Your tongue brushes against him and you moan a little into his mouth. He smiles into the kiss remembering that you want this just as much as he does. Then you are pulling away to straddle his face and lower yourself gently. His tail comes up to wrap around your ankle as you do so, holding you tight.

“If you need me to move or to stop for any reason, just let go of me with your tail, okay?”

He nods to you, and you lower your dripping cunt down on to his face. He strains against the bonds to raise his head, eagerly licking at every fold. This isn’t something he has a lot of experience in, but he’s been told he’s a quick study and he’s nothing if not enthusiastic. Trying to catalogue every touch you like best, he flattens his tongue against you as he tries to cover more area.

The result is almost immediate as you begin to shake and shudder. He can feel your thighs start to quiver and knows he’s on the right track. Before long he is taking your clit in his mouth, sucking gently and alternating with his tongue. Your moans grow louder, and he can hear you saying his name. His cock drips in excitement, trying to rein himself in to not finish just from the taste of you.

After a few minutes you’re close and he can tell, all he needs to do is push you over the edge. Without the use of his hands, he is struggling to come up with exactly how when it hits him. With a deep breath he presses his nose to your clit as his tongue darts in and out of your hole. He grinds his face slightly against you, being sure to keep a firm pressure. The extra friction is just the thing and with almost a wail, your climax overtakes you. You drench his face with the sweet taste of you while you writhe and shiver as he continues to lick you through it.

“Good boy,” You moan sensuously as you clear the fog of your orgasm.

Lifting from him and repositioning yourself once more, you lean down to kiss his drenched face. Sharing the taste between you which makes you both moan into the kiss. He is pulling against his bonds now. He needs to have you, or he is certain he’ll die. You notice with a coy smile, having wound him up just as you had planned.

“I didn’t forget about you of course” you murmur as you shift down to straddle his desperate cock.

He nods eagerly, so close to the edge already that he is nearly delirious for the release of oblivion under you. Still, he steels himself as he feels your warm heat envelop him, wanting this to last just a little longer if possible. The sound that leaves you as you fully seat yourself on him makes it nearly impossible to hold on. Your head is thrown back, neck exposed, your mouth opens, and you let out the most seductive moan he’s sure he’s ever heard.

His tail comes up to wrap around your waist as you adjust to the size of him.

“Fuck, Rolan, you feel amazing,”

He can’t respond, he’s huffing and fighting to hold on to control — to not cum on the spot. Fighting to not grind his hips up into you to get more of that feeling. It must be truly obvious how close he is, or you must be a mind reader because your next words are just what he needs.

“It’s okay Rolan, you don’t have to hold on, I want you to enjoy this”

He groans again as you begin to bounce yourself on him, his tail seeking to aid your motion. He’s puffing and panting, gods you feel so good,

“Thank… you… ma’am” he pants out to the pace of you riding him.

“My good boy”

With those three words it’s over. He lets out a loud grunt, almost a yell as his eyes roll back. His body lurches against the bonds as his cock pulses within you, filling you with his hot spend. His mind is a blank, all thought having been driven from out at the moment of climax. There is only the feeling.

Without a doubt, this is the hardest he’s ever come before. His head rests back against the bed and his mouth drops open as he continues to jerk up into you slightly with each spurt as he comes down. The first sensation he notes outside of pleasure again is the sound of your calm voice.

“That’s it, that was so good, you’re so good Rolan.”

You’re heaping praise on him, and he allows the combination of everything to sweep him away once more. When he comes to again it’s only minutes later, but he’s been untied and you’re gently cleaning him with a warm towel. You climb into bed with him and check his wrists and ankles, massaging them to soothe any discomfort. After a few minutes he pulls you close to him, and you lean out of his reach to grab a blanket to cover you both. Then you settle back, facing him as he puts his arms around your back, happy to have you in his arms.

The last thing he feels before he slips off to the best sleep he’s had in years, is the feeling of you leaving a kiss on his forehead — just between his horns.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

[i-starcreamed]

Ok so it is implied in my mind that any human on the lost light would be zippin around on roller skates. And when on roller skates you can theoretically hold onto the back of a vehicle to ZOOM ( = skitching = skate + hitching.) So THE QUESTION IS silly little headcanons for a human reader skitching w Rodimus / Tailgate / Swerve my beloved / anyone w a vehicular alt mode? Idk I just thought that would be fun :3

new uh, format I think. hopefully, this works. anyways this was really fun and they're a little short bc I struggled writing something different for each one, but I'm very happy with it

[ human!reader

post includes: Rodimus, Tailgate, and Swerve]

MTMTE Rodimus

oh you're gonna have to hang on real tight

when you said zoom, that's exactly what this guy is gonna do

tries to get you to do tricks as you're skitching, did not go well the first time (he skid to a stop you crashed face-first into him)

after that he was a lot more careful and gave you a heads up

He still tries to get you to do tricks though, you both impress the rest of the crew quite often

It quickly became this favorite thing to do after the first time, constantly coming up to you and transforming with a "need a ride?" and happily agreeing when you're the one to ask him.

Probably gets a little jealous when you ask someone that isn't him

Expect a lot of close calls but he would never get you hurt on purpose, Ultra Magnus begs you to wear some kind of protective gear

MTMTE Tailgate

Originally hesitant when you asked him, are you sure you want to go with him? What if you get hurt, he'll never forgive himself??

After plenty of reassurance though, he agreed and found it quite fun

Laughing and giggling as you two travel along the halls together, very cute 10/10

Cue Cyclonus watching you two with intrigue, zooming away with wide smiles on your faces, he too tries to hide a small smile at the scene

something tells me he drives in little circles to be silly

If you get hurt somehow he starts panicking and accidentally transforms back to pick you up and ask if you're okay. The only problem is that he forgets you were still attached and you go shooting up into the air

very normal and civilized skitching buddy but will zoom through the LL if you ask him to

MTMTE Swerve

He desperately wishes you could deliver drinks with him around his bar while skitching, how cool would it be if you two just drove around and handed bots their drinks one after the other?

So excited though, also has a lot of fun as you join him and cruise with him around the ship

He for sure convinces you to be silly around the ship, messing with Magnus or other bots and just as quickly leaving the room unnoticed

I think he also accidentally transforms while you're still holding onto him. You're like, screaming as you hold onto him for dear life and he keeps turning around in circles trying to find you (you swinging around and begging for him to stop moving)

Despite all the silly shenanigans, he still obviously goes out of his way to make sure you're safe and comfortable.

Probably tells you about the latest drama or stories as you're cruising around to keep you entertained, also because Swerve tells you everything

[briarfox13]

So after 80+ hours I've finally finished Dragon Age: The Veilguard! And boy do I have some thoughts (it's going to be a long post, sorry)

SPOILERS AHEAD

Firstly what an incredible journey from start to finish, I laughed, rejoiced and cried along the way. I loved it so much! The main story was engaging, and some of the side quests are the best Bioware has ever made.

However, I do have some criticisms with the writing and some lore. The beginning feels rushed, I wish we had more time before shit hit the fan. The faction backgrounds sound awesome and I wish we'd played those as a prologue and met Varric through those rather that tiny scene we got.

And I do wish the game was darker in some aspects. It felt weird that as an Elf I could just wander around Minrathous without a single problem, even the Venatori didn't comment on my race? Which felt off. Never thought I'd say this, but I miss the dark political plot points that the other games had (Looking at DA II here).

Expect The Blight, that was incredible, disgusting was just what I wanted to see.

I also don't like the concept of Ancient Elvhen magic being like advanced tech? I'm not fond of that. I play DA for the fantasy not the sci-fi. But that's a minor nit-pick.

But damn, Act 3? That was an explosive, incredible set of quests, and those twists broke my heart 😭 IYKYK

Honestly though, it's hands down one of the prettiest game I've played since probably Metro Exodus.

The environments, the lights and atmosphere is top notch; I know it wont happen but I'd kill for an Origins remaster with this engine (and combat system). The combat is my favourite so far.

Music is pretty but kind of unremarkable, Trevor Morris' Inquisition music was a 100% times better and more memorable, they should have stuck with him.

No offence to Mr. Zimmer but all his music sounds the same to me 🙈

The Grey Wardens, my babies are back ❤️ They've been my favourite faction in gaming since Origins and I'm so happy to finally play another Warden.

The reactivity was just amazing, I felt so connected to the plot by playing as one, especially with the Blight plotlines. Declaring for the Wardens at the end made me cry 😭 In War, Victory!!

And finally some good Grey warden armour!! XD I hated DA II and DAI's armour for them with a passion XD

Emmrich my love 💚

While I think it's too short (please Bioware add more romance content, I'm begging 🥺) I haven't loved a Bioware romance like this since Garrus'. (Sorry Alistair I still love you but, you're now joint second with Emmrich)

His romance was so sweet and charming, it felt so real. And so beautifully written; as someone who finds necromancy and death in religion fascinating but the reality of death terrifying, Emmrich was perfect for me.

I just adore it so much, I'm way too attached to him and my Rook 💚🥹 And obviously Manfred my son

To let you all in on a secret, even before I booted up Origins for the first time (2015) I was originally a Solas girlie (thanks to the internet) and now just under 10 years later I am so happy to have a happy ending to his and Zephyr's story 🥹❤️

I wish they interacted more with each other, and we'd got more about Solas' love for the Inky but ultimately I am happy with what we got. After all it wasn't entirely their story.

But, what I am not happy about is the Inky's personality. I respect it's kind of a soft reboot, but only 3 choices and none of them about how the Inky was like? Zephyr would never in a million years work with Morrigan (even with her Mythal fragment). It just didn't feel quite like my girl (even though I was happy to see her).

I do wish we'd got a couple more choices when making the Inky to make them feel more ours than slightly generic.

So finally, I will say that personally I adore this game, it's not perfect by any mile but I had fun, and that's important to me. It might even be joint top with Origins as my favourite DA game!

I've always been a Mass Effect girlie, but Dragon Age is important to me too. And I'm so happy to finally see a new DA release that has somewhat succeeded.

Now I'm done, do expect Tabitha spam! I'll make sure to tag them with spoilers for those who haven't finished/played!

And to my non DA followers, I'm very sorry about my current hyper-fixation (blame the ADHD) but bear with me! I have some tasty Halo art pieces cooking in the background 👀