#i hope this isn't too graphic ^^' if it is let me know and i'll edit it

[addysfandomdump]

Faye has progressed to the second round of @sonic-oc-showdown! Let's hope she can get a streak!

(Curie the Radiant belongs to @riftclaw ; Fibula the Hedgehog belongs to @son1c)

((btw— check the alt text for flower meanings!))

[siena-sevenwits]

Disclaimer: These thoughts are more emotionally than logically expressed, and reflect my own experience and preference.

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 2

summary: nearly a month has passed since you agreed to go to california with joel, and you think you might love him. you trust him, and he makes you feel cared for and safe, but he hasn't been telling you the whole truth. eventually, you make a shocking discovery that makes him feel like a stranger to you all over again.

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, DDDNE (graphic descriptions of blood, murder, and of captive/dead girls, non-con p-in-v sex (i'll say rape just in case but reader does not explicitly express non-consent), being held captive, degrading language toward victims/victim blaming, joel is implied to fantasize that you're dead while fucking you, kind of stockholm syndrome), non-con breathplay/choking, mommy & daddy issues, lying, gaslighting, coercion, manipulation, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart, babydoll, etc), no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 8.1k

a/n: this is the second part. if the tags deter you from reading that's okay, just pretend joel and reader made it to california and they lived happily ever after. i understand i've written something dark and heavy and it isn't for everyone, you are welcome on my blog whether it's for you or not as long as everyone is respectful of each other <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 3 (coming soon)

As the breeze begins to carry a chill that bites without the protection of a jacket or one of Joel’s flannels, the two of you have been spending the last month or so trying to outrun Autumn altogether as you make your way to California. You’ve crossed more state lines now than you ever could’ve imagined you would, and you and Joel have even made a game out of trying to spot the license plate of the farthest state away from wherever you are. He was impressed when you had recently managed to spot an Alaska plate in fucking Kansas, of all places. 

You spend your days visiting cheesy tourist traps and collecting cheap souvenirs from their gift shops, and your nights in motels or in his truck or in goddamn gas station bathrooms tangled up in each other’s bodies, unable to keep your hands off each other. The seal had finally broken just a few days after you had agreed to go to California with him, when he had laid his hand on your knee while he was driving, and you didn’t stop him from sliding it higher and higher, his fingers eventually making their way between your thighs and gently rubbing your clit through your shorts. Joel would’ve been content to play with your pussy just like that, pinching at your little nub and dipping his fingers into your drooling hole as he drove, but the noises you were making were driving him fucking insane. He had pulled off into a wooded area and instructed you to climb into the backseat, where he had shoved himself inside of you for the first time and fucked you until you saw stars. You never made it to wherever it was you were headed to that afternoon, deciding instead to just call it a day and spend the rest of it covered in each other’s sweat and come and breathing heavily into each other’s necks. 

You’ve seen new parts of Joel in other ways, too, in the time that you’ve been traveling with him. He’s been opening up to you, slowly but surely, as the weeks go on. You did eventually remember to ask him about that song you couldn’t quite make out at Moody’s, humming the bit of the chorus you could remember for him in hopes that he’d recognize it.

“I think I know the one, darlin’. Should have it on cassette somewhere here, ‘s called Alone and Forsaken, think it’s by Hank Williams. Hadn’t heard that one in a while, ‘s a winner, though,” he’d said.

You’d rifled through the contents of the glove box and pulled it out, excitedly swapping the tape with the one in the player and pressing the button on the dash to start the song. Joel’s fingers had begun to tap against the wheel immediately, and he seemed to relax at the sound of the guitar’s steady strumming. You had just watched him as the song played, admiring the subtle movements of the muscles in his face as he’d hummed along.

But he’d noticed your staring, after a while, and teased, “Y’know, really shouldn’t look at a man like that, babydoll. Might give ‘im some ideas.”

Babydoll. That was new, too. It had become his new favorite pet name for you, bestowed upon you when he had offered you another dress to wear from the stash of clothing belonging to Tommy’s daughter that he keeps under his backseat. Joel had told you eventually that he’d fibbed about his relationship with Tommy, just a little bit, and that he hasn’t actually seen him or his kid in quite some time. “Just kinda grew apart after a while, stopped keepin’ up with each other,” Joel had explained. “Jus’ never quite got around to gettin’ rid of all that stuff, I guess.”

You certainly didn’t mind having something new to wear, especially something as pretty as the little pink dress that got you your new name. Joel had looked at you hungrily when you’d first tried it on, raking his eyes up and down your form as you twirled for him.

“So pretty, sweetheart. Look just like a lil’ babydoll in that, don’t you?” Joel had complimented.

You’d giggled at the nickname, becoming shy as he’d stalked towards you and used a hooked finger to lift up your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his own. “Like that one, do ya? Like bein’ my babydoll, all mine?”

You’d sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, your brows peaked with need as your eyes had begun to glaze over from his gentle dominance. It had never taken much from him to make you start feeling a little floaty, even early on, ready to fall into his arms so he could make you gush onto his fingers or his cock or his tongue.

You’d nodded your head all syrupy and slow, making a little whimpering sound in affirmation.

“Say it,” he’d whispered, the hand propping up your chin slowly finding its way down to your neck, where it always seemed to land in your moments of intimacy. Joel had never really asked you if you liked it there or not, if you liked it when he squeezed your throat just right until your vision became spotty and your breath came out pinched and raspy, but you had learned to like it, to crave that guidance and control from him. He’d never taken it too far, just brought you teetering over the edge of unconsciousness, then allowed you to fill your lungs with air again. 

“I like it, Joel, like being yours…”

“Yeah… ‘n you’re gonna be mine forever, huh? Never gonna leave my side, always gonna belong to me, ain’t that right?” His grip on your windpipe had begun to tighten as he questioned you.

“Forever… ‘m yours, Joel…” you’d promised through a hoarse whisper.

A growl had rumbled from deep in Joel’s chest at your choked words, and he’d quickly let go of your throat to spin you around and shove you face-first into the creaking motel mattress, flipping up the skirt of your little babydoll dress and showing you just how pretty he thought you looked in it. “Mine, mine, mine,” he’d chanted as he caged you in with his heavy form, slamming inside of your aching cunt until you cried out, shuddering around him as he spilled inside of you. 

He calls you babydoll almost exclusively now, like it’s your actual name. Your everyday clothing consists almost entirely of frilly dresses and tiny tops and tight shorts from the supply in Joel’s truck, with maybe a few items he picks out for you at the occasional Goodwill mixed in. He’s made it so that you never have to think for yourself ever again, taking care of everything for you from picking out your outfits to ordering for you at the diners. All you have to worry about is being good, being his, his perfect little doll, and he says that you deserve a life as easy as this, that it’s the least he can do for you in exchange for your company, for being so good for him.

Joel does allow you to use your brain for some things, still, like bombarding him with the questions you’d begun stashing away in your mind all those weeks ago. Some of them he still answers vaguely, like where the scar on his nose came from, or if he’d been married before, or what his life was like before he met you. But sometimes you can get a story out of him, and it always feels like you’ve won the lottery when you’re able to get him talking. After the Hank Williams cassette had finished playing that day, you’d decided to ask him what he’d wanted to be when he grew up. 

He’d thought about it for a second, and then laughed at himself. “‘F I tell you, I don’t wanna hear any gigglin’ outta you over there, ‘s that clear?”

“I can’t promise you that if I don’t know what you’re gonna tell me. If you say, like, a rodeo clown or something, I’m gonna laugh.”

Joel had just glared at you, and you’d rolled your eyes.

“Fine, I won’t laugh, I promise. Just tell me.”

“Alright…” Joel had sighed. “I wanted to be a singer, actually. Believe it or not.”

You had almost started crying right then, the visual of a little Joel all those years ago wanting to grow up and become a singer being almost too much to bear. 

“Awe, Joel… You can sing? Can you—”

“No, I ain’t gonna sing for you. Don’t even ask, babydoll.”

Joel had seemed adamant about that at the time, but just a few days later when a violent thunderstorm was blowing through the town you’d stopped in for the night, you’d woken him up when you couldn’t fall asleep, and asked him in a trembling voice if he would sing for you. He’d just grunted and rolled back over at first, but you’d kept quietly begging him, and he eventually gave in to your little frightened sounding pleas. You’d rested your head against his chest as he stroked your hair and sang Alone and Forsaken for you a few times over, until the soothing sound of his voice and the quiet thumping of his heartbeat had lulled you back to sleep. The thunder had eventually retreated when it realized you weren’t scared of it anymore, now feeling safe and protected in Joel’s arms. 

He could only take so much more questioning from you after a while, though, until he decided it was about time for you to reveal more of yourself to him, and you’d thought that was fair. You’d spent a whole afternoon in the truck one day telling him about how your dad had passed away when you were still in high school, and how you’d always wished he could’ve seen you walk across the stage at graduation and go off to college. How he was the one who’d even encouraged you to go in the first place, when you hadn’t felt smart enough or good enough at anything to ever find the pursuit worthwhile. But he’d always been supportive of your artistic endeavors, the ones your mom had always called ‘useless’ and ‘a waste of time’ and ‘nothing that could ever amount to a real job’. Your dad had tried his best to make you believe otherwise, always proudly displaying your work around the house when your mother would allow it, and even framing some of it for his office. It was devastating when he had passed, but at least you felt you could make him proud in some way, by deciding to pursue a degree in art at the nearby state school. But then your mother had ruined your chances of ever finishing the program, and, well… here you are now. 

After you’d finished your story, Joel had comforted you just like he always did, promising to find you a sketchbook and some pencils at the next town you came across so you could keep nurturing your talents. He’d made good on his word, and now your time on the road is often spent sketching Joel, his cassettes, the mountains, anything you see that sparks inspiration and demands to be committed to paper.

Today, the two of you are on your way to see the world’s largest something or other in New Mexico, and you’ve become determined to etch a drawing onto every page of your book by the time you reach California. You’ve sketched just about everything in the truck at this point, and different tries at capturing Joel’s handsome side profile already take up more than half of the pages that you’ve filled out so far. You begin scouring the cabin of the truck, searching for something new you can draw. You eventually try bending forward to look under the bench seat, just in case you can find a crumpled up candy wrapper or something, but an even more interesting object catches your eye, tucked just behind Joel’s legs. It looks like an old shoebox, maybe containing some more tapes or things belonging to Tommy’s kid. You try to reach over to Joel’s side of the bench seat to grab it, and he almost swerves the truck off the road when he notices what you’re doing.

“What’re you…? Don’t touch that, babydoll, jus’ leave it alone,” he scolds.

You sit up straight again, taken aback by his tone. “Why? I was just looking for something new to draw, thought there might be something in there.”

“It’s just junk in there, baby, nothin’ you’d much be interested in,” Joel says, his grip on the steering wheel becoming more white-knuckled.

“So? I can’t draw some old junk?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Joel sighs in frustration. “‘Cause I said so, babydoll, Christ. Just leave it be, I’ll throw it out next time we stop. Find somethin’ else to draw.”

“Okay… ‘M sorry,” you respond timidly.

“‘S alright, sweet girl. ‘M sorry too, shouldn’ta yelled at you like that. Just… tryin’ to drive here, don’t want you reachin’ behind my legs and shit, ain’t safe.”

You just nod, popping open the glove compartment for the hundredth time in hopes that there could be something in there that you’d missed before. There isn’t, so you decide to pluck out that Hank Williams tape and sketch it again, humming the song to yourself in an attempt at self-soothing as you begin to outline the shape of it. It seems like a bad time to ask Joel to sing it for you again, but if you’re good for the rest of the day and make up for your earlier mistake, maybe you could hear it again tonight.

—

You’re just finishing up your sketch a half hour or so later, when Joel decides it’s time to stop for gas. You glance over at the fuel gauge on the dash, and it looks like the truck still has half a tank left, but you decide not to say anything about it. Just like he’d said when you had first reached for the shoebox, Joel swipes it from underneath the seat as he exits the truck, tossing it haphazardly into the trash can by the gas pump. 

“Dammit,” you hear him curse to himself, and you look out the window to see him staring angrily at the empty pocket inside of his wallet where cash should be. Joel opens up the passenger side door to explain, “Forgot I used up the last o’ my cash on dinner last night. Just… stay here, babydoll, gotta head inside ‘n use the ATM quick, alright?”

You nod obediently, and watch him take long strides toward the convenience store before disappearing inside. 

He’ll only be gone for a few minutes at the most, so you know that you have to make your move now. You’ve never had Joel bark at you before like he’d done when you had reached for that beat up cardboard box, and you still feel a little rattled by it. What could possibly have been in there that he didn’t want you to see? For the first time, you feel like you might not be able to trust him, and it makes you feel a little sick. You’ve started to feel like you might love Joel, and you think he probably feels the same way, even if you haven’t said those exact three words to each other yet. Someone who loves you wouldn’t hide things from you, would they? Especially not after you’ve already bared so much of your souls to each other, after you’ve decided that you belong to each other.

There’s only one way to find out, you decide.

You exit the truck quietly, swiftly closing the short distance between you and the trash can and peering into the black plastic bag that lines it. You fish out the shoebox from where it lays on top of other garbage, and crouch down in front of the gas pump to hide yourself from view. Taking a steadying breath, you carefully remove the weathered lid from the box and begin to examine its contents. At first glance, it seems to just be full of washed-out polaroids and a few random objects—a tarnished charm bracelet, a fraying ribbon, and a cracked pair of glasses among them. What is all this stuff? You think to yourself, Keepsakes from his former life, more of Tommy’s daughter’s things that he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of yet?

You pick up a photo laying face down on top of the pile and turn it over, almost immediately dropping it back into the box in favor of clapping your hand over your open mouth. You shut your eyes tightly as they begin to water, hoping that when you open them again, you’ll find that you were wrong about what you had just seen. That it was just a trick of the light, that it wasn’t what it seemed, that you had just imagined it.

But you aren’t so fortunate.

Your heart plummets into your stomach as you peer inside the box again, a sickly feeling of dread beginning to claw its way up the back of your neck. You examine the photo more closely, and it appears to be of a girl who looks about your age, bound at the hands, gagged, and naked. She’s kneeling on the damp forest floor, staring up at the photographer with a defeated, glazed-over expression. She’s bruised, bleeding from her nose, and filthy, with her hair tangled in knots and mascara-stained tears running down her cheeks. The photo looks to have captured her last moments alive. 

One by one, you quickly examine a dozen or so more photos as your pulse hammers hard in your throat. Each of them are nearly identical, all depicting a pretty early twenty-something, either restrained and begging for her life or already dead. They all have dates scribbled on the front that are spaced out a mere couple of weeks from each other, with the names of the girls written on the backs of them. To your horror, you notice that some of the polaroids even have bloody fingerprints staining their white frames. It seems impossible that Joel could be the one who took these photos, that he could be the one to reduce these young girls to nothing more than weak puddles of tears and blood. You begin desperately trying to convince yourself that this is all part of a fucked-up nightmare you’re moments away from waking up from, until a photo containing a bright flash of white catches your eye. You can’t help how your face contorts into a grimace when you examine the photo closer, your stomach lurching at the sight of the amount of blood spilling from the back of the girl’s head as she lays lifeless on a wooden floor. All that she’s wearing are her underwear and a white tank top, the ditsy floral pattern of which you could swear you’ve seen before.

You don’t understand why it looks so familiar to you until you spread around more of the polaroids in the box, and spot one capturing a girl tied up and gagged on a motel bed, wearing a baby pink dress that grotesquely juxtaposes the depravity of her situation. She has wide, pleading doe eyes and ribbons finishing the ends of each of her braids that kind of make her look like… a doll.

The realization hits you all at once, that nearly all of the clothes Joel has given you since the day you met him had never belonged to Tommy’s daughter at all, if he even has one, if Tommy even really exists. You’d been wearing Anna’s white tank top with the delicate floral print. Elizabeth’s pink babydoll dress. Even the clothes you have on now probably belonged to some of Joel’s victims, but you don’t think you can stand to find out which ones. 

Your thoughts begin to spiral out of control, an irrational part of your brain working overtime to come up with a million reasons why this can’t be true, that there has to be some other explanation for what you’re seeing, until you pick up a final photo, where the sleeve of Joel’s drab olive flannel is clearly visible in the corner. The shirt is tattered at the cuffs in the exact way that Joel’s is, and it has the same terracotta striping woven through the plaid pattern. Emerging from the bottom of the sleeve is a tanned, thick hand, wrapped tightly around a pale, fragile neck, with some of the girl’s blonde ringlet curls poking through the gaps between his fingers. When you flip over the photo, your blood runs cold when you read the name inscribed on the back—Ruby.

Your tears begin to fall then. How strange, how cruel, that fate has led you here, lured you straight to him. Someone that you thought you knew, trusted, loved, who’s suddenly a stranger to you all over again. You’ve just been doomed from the start, haven’t you? All along, it was Joel who had been responsible for building the trap you’ve found yourself ensnared in now. Ruby hadn’t run away at all that summer, hadn’t found a place she belonged, a place to start a real life for herself, a place to see her unlimited potential finally fulfilled. She’d met Joel, and he’d restricted her existence to nothing more than a polaroid that he keeps in a fucking shoebox under the seat of his truck. All along, this is where she’d been. 

You feel like throwing up. You’re reeling, completely horrified and sick to your stomach, your life as you had just come to know it having come crashing down around you in an instant. You quickly replace the lid on the box and throw it back into the trash can, hopefully never to be seen again. You scramble back inside the truck just in time for the convenience store door to swing open again, the little bell accompanying the movement sounding sharp and sinister as it announces Joel’s imminent arrival. Your pulse pounds erratically against your ribcage as you try to act as naturally as possible, forcing your shaking hands to look like they’re busy adding the finishing touches to your latest sketch. 

You don’t look at Joel as he approaches the truck, and he doesn’t seem to pay you much attention, either. He leans against the hood casually once he feeds the bills into the pump, letting the tank fill the rest of the way up with gas. You have to come up with an escape plan now, before your poorly disguised agitation gives you away and he figures out what you’ve seen. 

When his task is finished, Joel climbs back into the driver’s seat exhales a deep breath, like he feels relieved to have finally discarded the evidence so you’d never find out the truth about him. You’re determined to keep him clueless for as long as you can.

“Ready to keep goin’, babydoll? Should only be another hour or so ‘fore we get to the next stop,” he asks, reaching over to you to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. You flinch away from his touch instinctually, then silently curse yourself for already doing such a shitty job at keeping up your facade.

“A-actually, um…” You swallow hard. “I’m kinda g-getting a headache, it really hurts. And I feel really s-sick. Is it okay if we just… go straight to a motel? I just wanna… lay down,” you lie, screwing up your face into a pained wince and wrapping your arms around your stomach in an effort to make it all more convincing.

“Oh, you poor thing…” Joel coos, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “Y’ do feel kinda hot… Sure, darlin’. Think there’s a place not too much further down the road here, jus’ hang tight.”

“T-thank you,” you reply weakly. Your voice is coming out a little uneven, but you hope it just adds to the believability of your act instead of raising suspicion. You try to cover it up with a cough and a little pained groan, just for good measure.

Joel doesn’t waste any more time getting back on the road, and you stay quiet for the short ride to the nearest motel, doing your best to hold back your tears and even out your breathing. You’ll need to be calm and clear-headed in order to have any chance at escape, lest you want to meet the same fate as the dozens of other girls who were probably also blinded by Joel’s southern charm and good looks, who were manipulated by his lies and tricked into believing that he could give them a happy ending. Was he ever going to let you see California? Or had he been leading you to your death all along?

You’re going to be the one who lives. For Ruby, you have to be. For all of them.

—

Just like the first night you’d spent with him, Joel has you wait in the truck while he checks in at the counter and retrieves the keys to your room before coming back to get you. You fake a stumble when you step down from the truck, and Joel mumbles a ‘Jesus, babydoll’ before hoisting you into his arms and carrying you across the room’s threshold, setting you down softly onto the bed.

“Whaddya need, sweet girl? Water? Some crackers, or somethin’? Bet I could ask the front desk if they got some medicine or anythin’ like that,” Joel asks, sitting on the edge of the bed while you curl up and turn away from him. You do your best not to flinch this time when he decides to comfortingly massage the back of your neck.

“Can you ask, please? It hurts so bad,” you whine, unable to tamp down your shuddering sobs any longer.

“Sure I will, my poor lil’ girl… I’ll be right back, alright?”

Joel pets your hair for a moment, and the gesture would normally flood your belly with lovesick butterflies, but it only feels predatorial now, like a lion trying to convince its prey that it only wants to play, that it won’t be torn to pieces and eaten alive. 

Your body finally relaxes when Joel leaves the room, and you count out thirty seconds to hopefully allow him to reach the front office before you make your break. When you whisper the final ‘thirty’ to yourself, you spring out of bed and sprint out the door, almost tripping over your own feet in your race to reach the payphone you’d spotted earlier in the parking lot. You figured that trying to call for help would be a smarter move than running, and you’d never make it far on foot, anyway, not in the flimsy little dress and cheap canvas sneakers you’re wearing. You’d stolen a few quarters out of the truck’s center console while Joel was letting the gas pump, and you shakily deposit them into the slot, nearly dropping them. You punch the numbers 9-1-1 into the keypad, nearly ripping the phone clean off the hook as you bring it up to your ear.

“Come on, come on, come on…” You mutter to yourself, drumming your bitten fingernails against the hard plastic handset as the mocking dial tone trills in your ear.

“911, what is your emergency?” comes a voice on the other line, female. 

“Please, I need hel–” but before you can even finish the word, he’s on you, one large hand clapped over your mouth while the other rips the phone out of your hand and slams it back into the receiver. You kick and bite and thrash, but your pitiful attempts at escape do nothing to deter him. After all, his pickup is the only car in the lot, and your room is the only one with a light on. The clerk who checked him in could have never existed at all, for all you know. There’s not a soul around to hear you cry or beg or scream, except for him. You should have known that he would see straight through you, that he would’ve anticipated you getting curious and made sure he was always one step ahead of you. Joel drags you back to the room with a two-handed grasp on your upper arm, gripped onto you hard enough you’re sure his fingertips will leave bruises.

“No, no, no, please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Joel!” You plead, using his first name in a pathetic effort to try to appeal to whatever morality he might have left.

“You stupid fuckin’ bitch…” he spits.

Joel kicks open the door to your room and flings it shut behind him so hard you’re surprised the wood doesn’t shatter, splintering into a million sharp little pieces. He throws you down onto the stained double bed you’ll be sharing tonight, if he doesn’t decide to use the yellowed comforter to wrap your lifeless corpse in later instead. You push yourself up into a sitting position and brace yourself for whatever he’ll do to you for disobeying him, for trying to escape. You’ve never seen this side of him before, never even come close to upsetting him like this in the time that you’ve known him. 

“Don’t know who the fuck you were tryin’ to call, but you better get it through that dumb fuckin’ brain of yours that nobody gives a fuck about you anymore except for me, you got that? Cops ain’t gonna do nothin’ about some fuckin’ runaway slut, ‘specially not one who’s got nobody to miss her in the first place. ‘S why you ran away, ‘s why I picked you up… ‘Cause we both know ain’t nobody gonna come lookin’ for you. Wouldn’t be able to find your body even if they did,” he barks at you, a huge paw wrapped in the hair at the base of your skull to keep your gaze trained on him.

“Please, please don’t hurt me! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do it again, I promise–”

“Y’ know… I saved you from that hell hole, I gave you everything, and this is the fuckin’ thanks I get?!” The low gravel of his voice seems to be coming from somewhere deep and cavernous inside of him. It fills the entire room with a black smoke that penetrates your eardrums and fills your mouth with something bitter.

“I know, I know, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you–”

“Yeah, I know you weren’t fuckin thinkin’. Dumb fuckin’ cunt.” Joel releases your hair and you collapse in on yourself, beginning to sob all over again. You know it probably makes you look weak in front of him, but you can’t help it as the dread washes over you. You’re on the verge of hyperventilating, wondering if this will be the one mistake that seals your fate, if he’ll let you live long enough to see those aching little imprints on your arm from where he grabbed you bloom into purple-red blotches in the morning. With your eyes shut tight and hot tears streaming down your cheeks, you’re heaving, trying to catch your breath as you release broken little noises that sound like sorry, sorry, sorry. The repeated apology almost resembles some kind of prayer, as if that could save you now.

He lets you run the gamut of your terror for a minute before pinching the bridge of his nose, the calloused pads of his fingers squeezing that angry red scar that adorns it. He expels a heavy sigh and sits beside you on the bed, the springs of the old mattress screeching as they dip with his weight.

“C’mere, babydoll,” he says, quietly now, and you feel too weak to fight him as he pulls you into his lap and helps you to straddle your legs across his thick waist. You can feel his hardening bulge against your core through the thin material of your panties, exposed now by the skirt of your dress riding up and pooling at the creases of your thighs. 

“‘S okay, darlin’ I forgive you.” He lets you cry into his shoulder as he shushes you, rocking you side to side and petting the top of your head as if he were soothing a spooked little dog. When you’re able to take deep breaths again, your senses are flooded with his familiar comforting scent. The combination of his natural cologne and the softness of his voice reaches inside some deep corner of your brain that isn’t completely terrorized and disgusted by him, and it’s enough for you to lift your head up to face him again.

“Y-you do?” You squeak out as you sniffle, and Joel wipes away the last of your salty tears with one of his rough thumbs, sucking it into his mouth afterwards. He lets out a soft groan before gripping your jaw so that the fat of your cheeks makes your lips pucker.

“Yeah, babydoll… But why would you try to go off runnin’ like that, hm? Thought you were mine, my girl, thought we understood each other.”

His tone, the furrow in his brows and the slight pout of his lips make you feel guilty, somehow, upset with yourself for making him feel this way, for trying to run from his care and affection. “I-I thought so, too. But then… then I…” you stutter, finding it impossible to speak coherently anymore.

“Then what, babydoll?” Joel prompts calmly, stroking his thumb along your cheek as he squeezes it.

“T-the box… I saw—”

“Yeah… You saw my girls, didn’t you, baby? That’s why you tried to run, ain’t it? Look at me, babydoll.”

Joel jostles your face in his grip, and you obey his command, nodding slowly. When you look into his eyes, you finally notice how dark they’ve become, their usual warm amber color now appearing more red.

“You… you killed her. I-it was you.”

“Which one’re you talkin’ about, baby? Collected a lotta girls over the years, lose track of ‘em after a while.”

Your stomach churns at his callousness. “R-Ruby… I saw h-her. Y-you… you were…” You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, your words interrupted by your hiccuping breaths.

“Oh, Ruby…” Joel shifts his hips into yours, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he closes his eyes for a moment, turning over her name on his tongue. “Yeah… She was a pretty thing, wasn’t she? Feisty one, though. ‘Bout broke my goddamn nose. Wasn’t gonna be so rough with her, but… she practically asked for it.” He brushes his finger across the scar on his face, and your eyes well up again when you make the connection. “What else did you see, hm? Talk t’ me about it, babydoll.” Even through his jeans, you can feel that he’s fully hard now, turned on at the prospect of reliving those gruesome scenes.

Nauseating visions of the polaroids flash across your memory—the girl bleeding from the back of her head, the one with the cut throat, the one with her neck bent at an unnatural angle. “No, please don’t make me…” you shake your head at him, your bottom lip trembling as you fight back more stinging tears. 

Joel releases his hold on your face in favor of giving your cheek a harsh smack. “Wasn’t a fuckin’ question, girl.”

You use his loosened grip as an opportunity to try to scramble out of his lap, hitting your hands against his chest as you try to push off the bed and get back onto your feet.

“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so. Quit fuckin’ strugglin’.” 

He’s got you flipped onto your back in a second, with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He stands between your parted thighs, and you look up at him through blurred vision, one of his strong hands now attempting to cut off the blood supply to your brain as he uses the other to free his thick cock from his jeans. His teeth are bared, and the look in his eyes is faraway, as if the Joel you thought you knew is somewhere else entirely, miles away from this dingy motel room off the side of the freeway. He’s long gone now, replaced by this monstrous version of him that you don’t recognize.

“Keep fightin’, see what fuckin’ happens… I’d take the prettiest photos of you, y’ know that? Add you to my lil’ collection, have no choice but to be mine forever… You’d fit right in, babydoll, this perfect fuckin’ body.”

He slides a hand up and down his leaking shaft as he rambles, and it’s impossible to deny how much it excites him, talking about his killing, his ritual. 

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, promised myself I’d be done after the last one but—fuck—just can’t fuckin’ stop myself. ‘S just so goddamn easy,” Joel hisses through his teeth. His hand never leaves your neck as he flips up the skirt of your dress and yanks your ashamedly damp panties down your trembling legs. He flings them haphazardly onto a discolored patch of carpet in the corner of the room, and it makes you wince, imagining how he must’ve disposed of so many other girls before you in the same careless manner.  

As hopeless as it seems now, you won’t be one of them. You don’t have any other choice, you have to make it out of this alive, you have to do something.

“W-what… what is?” You manage to choke out.

Joel looks down at you, almost startled, as if you’re an inanimate object speaking to him, like he didn’t expect you to have a voice.

“Huh?”

“Y-you said… it’s so easy. What’s easy?”

He licks his lips as he thinks on his response, a sickly smile tugging at the corners. “Pickin’ up a pretty slut nobody’s gonna miss, takin’ her home with me and turnin’ her fuckin’ lights out. They practically do it to themselves with all their strugglin’ and bitin’ and scratchin’, just want ‘em to fuckin’—unh—behave.”

You whine as he pushes his tip inside your little hole, but try to maintain your composure. You think you understand now, why he’s acting this way. He wants you to want to be with him, and it triggers some kind of deepset anger inside of him when you fight, when you run, when you throw his affection back in his face. Killing the girls might not even be his end goal, at least not when he first takes them, more like an inevitable side effect of what happens when they try to escape his captivity and he feels rejected, hurt, tossed aside. And then he lashes out. And then they die. And then the cycle repeats. You’d lasted this long because you’d been the first to not reject his advances, because he’d seen himself in you.

If you don’t fight, if you can keep him talking, if you can convince him that this is what you want, you might have a chance at survival. It’s not much of a strategy, but it’s something, and it’s better than giving up.

“How… how do you d-do it?” you ask, a little less rasp in your voice as his grip on your throat begins to loosen, but his hand never leaves it entirely. He slides the rest of his cock inside you as you stutter out your question, and he laughs.

“You sure you wanna hear it, babydoll? Might be a bit much for you.” He’s fully seated inside you now, and the stretch of him burns. Even though the two of you have been fucking like bunnies practically every day since you’ve met, you can only fight against your body so much, and the fear you’re trying desperately not to clue him into is making every one of your muscles tighten around him.

“No! No, I-I wanna know. Tell me, please…” You bat your eyelashes up at him for good measure, and his canine grin widens some more.

“God, y’ really are just as fucked up as I am, huh? ‘S why I kept you around, ‘cause you’re like me…” He begins to piston his thick length in and out of you, affectionately tucking a lock of hair behind your ear with his free hand as he does. The other one constricts your airflow once again, and you stifle a whimper, suppressing the urge to argue and spit back that you’re not like him. “Usually strangle ‘em, little throats always fit so perfectly in my hands, jus’ like this…”

His voice trails off as he shoves into you harder, picking up his pace. Your breathing becomes broken and frantic as you claw through the black cloud closing in on your vision in your effort to keep him talking. “And then what?” you squeak out.

“Squeeze ‘em, real hard and slow,” Joel growls. “Try not to come in my jeans just from the pathetic lil’ sounds they make when they’re prayin’ to God to save ‘em. Ain’t so gentle with ‘em if they put up too much of a fight, though. Jus’ gotta cut the shit sometimes, slice ‘em open or split their fuckin’ skulls just to make ‘em stop. God, you’d never believe the amount of blood a lil’ girl like you’s got in ‘em.” He’s slamming his hips into your sore cunt now, both hands wrapped tightly around your neck as he uses it for leverage. You feel your muscles begin to slacken, either from the lack of oxygen or from his just-right strokes against that little spot deep inside, you can’t be sure. It was just a survival instinct, you’ll tell yourself in the morning.

“Yeah? It’s… it’s a lot?” you prompt, skin feeling tingly and voice coming out hoarse, sounding like it had come from somewhere else other than your own body. It could’ve just been the wind, a tractor-trailer whistling by outside.

“Yeah, ‘s a lot. Bleed so fuckin’ much, y’ think it might never stop. Just keeps—fuck—comin’...”

Joel’s voice breaks on the telltale word, his thrusts becoming frenzied and disjointed as he nears his release. A few high-pitched moans manage to squeeze past your compressed vocal chords, and they’re half-genuine, half-forced as a means to spur him on and speed up the process. The stretches of skin between his thumbs and forefingers are pressing down, down, down against your windpipe, and you plead with him as coherently as possible in your race against that darkness threatening to swallow you whole. 

“C-come, Joel, p-please, want you to—”

“Shut up, babydoll. Fuck… Eyes on me, c’mon,” he orders, shaking you by the neck to wake you up a bit, prevent your eyes from closing all the way. “Look at me. Just… lay fuckin’ still, don’t make a sound. Hold your goddamn breath, okay? Don’t even fuckin’ blink.”

He’s never demanded something like this before, but you aren’t exactly in a position to disobey. You do as he asks, and some of it comes involuntarily, anyway. With your hands laid at your sides, eyes looking into Joel’s own but somehow past them, unblinking, your mouth slack and lungs paralyzed, you almost feel like…

Like one of them. 

“Tha’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants to himself, rutting into your limp body with abandon as he chases his high. You can’t help but let another tear slip past your lashes, and he doesn’t wipe it away this time. 

A few more bruising pulses of his cock later, and all the blood rushes back into your head at once as Joel lets go of his vice grip around your neck, collapsing on top of your still form and breathing heavily into the damp skin of your neck where your wet tears have collected. He stays like that for a while, still slotted inside you, and you let him come back into himself for as long as he needs, not daring to move a muscle until he permits you to do so. 

Joel slides himself out of your leaking hole when he’s finally caught his breath, grunting as he pushes himself up off the bed and runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He studies your abused form, then tuts when he notices the marks he left around your throat.

“Better make sure you wear your hair down tomorrow, I reckon. Got a decent record of keepin’ the law off my ass, I’d rather keep it that way.” 

Tomorrow. He plans on letting you live. Until then, anyway. 

“Okay,” you agree quietly.

Joel doesn’t let you out of his sight again for the rest of the evening. He’d helped you up off the bed and into the shower, where he’d cleaned both of your bodies and scrubbed the dried tears and sweat from your skin. He’d sunk his claws into your scalp as he washed your hair under the scalding water, and you wondered if the suds could carry even the intangible filth down the drain with it—the guilt, the fear, the defeat, the violation. You almost wish you hadn’t looked in the box at all. What difference would it have made, if you’d stayed with him in ignorance? Those girls are still dead. It’s not like you can save them now. You couldn’t even save yourself.

Joel changes you into one of his large t-shirts for you to sleep in tonight, instead of a frilly nightgown or something else short and revealing that he’d usually pick out for you. You suppose that the choice of clothing acts as a more visible representation of his ownership over you. He’s marking his territory, scenting you like a dog. Like you’re his bitch.

Joel holds you suffocatingly close to him in bed that night, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that it’s difficult for your ribs to expand. He keeps one hand possessively wrapped around the column of your neck, not squeezing, just to remind you what he’s capable of. As if you could ever forget. 

“Y’know what, babydoll? I think we could be partners, you and I,” Joel says in a slow, gravelly voice, right next to your ear.

“W-what do you mean?” You whisper back into the darkness.

“I just… I tried to quit, y’ know, but I don’t think I can. I don’t want to. Too damn old and slow to keep chasin’ after ‘em anymore, but… ‘f I keep you around, you’d just make the perfect bait, wouldn’t you? That pretty face, sweet lil’ smile, you could lure ‘em straight to me, they’d never see it comin’.”

“See… what coming?”

“My hands. The knife. A fuckin’ rock. Whatever, ‘s up to them.”

His words linger in the air, and you know you should say something, but how could you possibly respond to what he’s asking of you?

“You want me to… to kill—”

“No, no, ‘course not, babydoll. Wouldn’t even have to be in the room while it’s happenin’, would never ask my sweet girl to get her hands dirty like that. Jus’ gotta bring ‘em to me, tha’s all. Maybe go after ‘em if they try to run. I mean… you’d rather it be them than you, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Joel’s hand closes in around your throat, and you understand now what he’s offering you—a deal. Your life in exchange for helping him grow his collection of victims, helping him satisfy his urges. He’s made you feel indebted to him, like you owe him something in exchange for letting you live tonight. He thinks he’s found something special in you, a victim who finally can’t run away from him, who won’t, now. There’s enough of a connection still here, although held together by fear, that he knows you won’t try escaping again. Because he saved you, the first time from starving on the side of the road, the second time from himself. And you owe him your life, now, in some form or another. 

You only nod against the pillow, but it seems to be enough for him.

Joel kisses the back of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. “I love you, babydoll.”

His fingers press harder against your arteries, making it clear that you have no choice but to respond with what he wants to hear.

“I love you too, Joel.”

The words are still true, you think, somehow. But it just feels like you’re saying them to a stranger now.

You wish you would’ve listened to the one useful thing your mother had ever told you—not to talk to strangers, or you might fall in love.

tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger @hjzghi-blog @natalieispunk (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

HIS GIRL - PART 1

Summary: You were always Topper’s girl—until Rafe decided you were no longer his.

Paring: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Rafe/Reader, Topper/Reader, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Fingering, Oral (w receiving) Drinking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.  

Author's Note: Hi my loves. I'm alive!! Trying to survive. The year has been a tough one but wanted to tell you all I love you. Wasn't feeling motivated and then suddenly inspiration struck and I've been writing this dark/rafe fic on and off for months but then when it came time to post it was too long to do as a one shot so I'll release it slowly over the next couple of days as short parts. Part 2 will hopefully be up tomorrow. Love you guys and I hope everyone is well ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

“You wouldn't believe how happy she makes me,” Topper says, leaning back against the porch railing overlooking Tannyhill. His voice is thick with that syrupy sweetness that makes Rafe want to shove him clean off it.

Rafe leans against the opposite post, staring into the darkness. The summer air is suffocating, clinging to him, weighing him down, but not half as much as Topper’s words. He can’t stand the way Topper talks about you. His girl. Always his girl. Like he owns you, like he can hold your happiness in the palm of his hand and keep it there.

“She’s different, you know?” Topper keeps going, like he’s trying to sell you to him, as if Rafe hasn’t already memorized every detail, every curve of your lips, the way your eyes light up when you laugh or the soft timbre of your voice.

“She’s perfect, always so positive.. Like she literally sees the brighter side of life and the good in everyone. Sometimes... sometimes I feel like I don't deserve her, ya know? Like she can do so much better and yet somehow- she's picked me... I dunno it makes me want to do better. She makes me wanna be a better guy for her...”

Rafe's mouth curls into something that could be a smile but feels more like a scowl. He scratches his forehead.

“A better guy, huh? Jesus—Top, do you even hear yourself? You haven't even fucked her yet, and you're already actin' like a sap.”

It’s easier to mock, easier to keep up the front than to let anyone see how it really feels. How every time you laugh at one of Topper’s stupid jokes, it feels like a punch to Rafe's gut, a reminder that you’re still not his.

Topper doesn’t notice. He never does. Just keeps grinning like an idiot, like he’s won the fucking lottery.

“Can you just shut-up and be happy for me, man? Just this once? Look, it doesn't matter anyway. Cause it's time. Me and her are going to take our relationship to the next level.”

The words hit Rafe harder than they should, his fingers flexing, gripping the edge of the porch railing until his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t say anything at first, just feels his chest tighten, feels the familiar burn of jealousy flare up like a live wire. Because all he can think about is you, Topper’s hands on you, Topper fucking you, and it makes him want to break something, anything.

He forces himself to speak, keeping his voice steady, casual, like he’s just shooting the shit.

“The next level, huh? With little Miss Sunshine?” His smile is a thin, cruel line. “Thought you said you two were taking it slow, isn't she the type to wait for marriage or some shit."

Topper laughs, an easy sound that grates against Rafe’s nerves. “She’s not a virgin Rafe, she’s been with other guys before.  We’re just you know, trying to get to know each other first.  That's what I love about her. She wasn't going to just sleep with me after a couple of dates.  I had to prove myself to her and now it feels… it feels right. It’s the next logical step and I know she feels the same….” He says it like it’s so obvious, like he’s stating a fact, and Rafe’s skin prickles with a heat that has nothing to do with the summer night.

And there it is. The image that really makes Rafe's blood run cold: you, too sweet and naive, believing in something as stupid as love, and Topper, ready to ruin it with his clumsy hands and superficial feelings. This is the same guy who was pining after Rafe’s sister claiming to be in love with her only to have suddenly found you “the one” and had fallen head over heels in the span of a a few weeks.

No. That can't happen. Not like that. Not with you. Not when Rafe is the one who really cares about you. Had feelings for you longer than he’d dared to admit. Way longer before Topper swooped in and put a claim to you.

Rafe swallows hard as a new plan slowly takes shape in the dark recesses of his mind. If Topper wants to take things to the next level, fine. But it won't be with you. Not if Rafe has anything to say about it. He’ll get to you first. He’ll be the one you remember, the one who shows you something real, something raw. Because you deserve better than Topper. Or maybe, you deserve someone who isn't afraid to give you everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Someone like him.

Rafe smirks, letting his eyes slide over to Topper, keeping his tone light, almost teasing. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. You're gonna need it...”

Because he’s already decided. This isn’t over. Far from it. He’s going to make sure you know exactly what you’re missing before you ever let Topper Thornton fuck you. He’ll find a way. He always does.

The music pulses through the house like a living thing, the bass vibrating in Rafe’s bones as he moves through the crowd. Bodies sway, drunk on cheap beer and the promise of a good time. Laughter spills into the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and weed, but Rafe has only one thing on his mind tonight: you.

He spots you almost immediately. You’re standing in the kitchen, a red Solo cup in your hand, laughing at something Topper is saying. Topper’s arm is draped around your waist, and Rafe feels a familiar flicker of irritation—a heat that curls in his chest like a slow-burning fire.

He watches the way you tilt your head back, your eyes bright with amusement, looking at the blond idiot like he'd hung the moon and it takes everything in Rafe not to walk over and tear Topper’s hands off you.

Instead, he waits, watching, calculating.

Topper leans in close, murmuring something in your ear, and you giggle, playfully swatting at his arms, your fingers drawing circles on Toppers' wrist. Rafe’s jaw tightens. He needs an opening, a chance to get you alone, and then he sees it—a flash of movement as Topper's phone buzzes in his pocket. Topper pulls it out, glances at the screen, and Rafe catches the brief look of annoyance that flits across his face. Perfect.

Topper leans down to you, his voice barely audible over the music. “Hey, babe, I’ve got to take this. It’s my dad. I’ll be back in a few, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, and you nod, giving him that same sweet, innocent smile that makes Rafe’s stomach twist in knots.

As Topper slips away into the crowd, Rafe moves. He slides up next to you, a casual, easy grin on his lips, as if he just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“Hey,” he says, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music. “Topper leave you all alone?”

You look up, surprised but not unhappy to see him. That’s good—he can work with that. He's worked with less.

“Yeah, he had to take a phone call,” you said with a small smile. That smile. It's cute. You're cute. So fucking cute that Rafe’s mind spirals into the gutter. He wonders what you’d look like if he wiped that smile right off your face, watch your face contort with ecstasy—what sounds you’d make if he were to shove his cock down your throat. He 's sure you'd look just as cute all teary eyed and drooling.

Rafe leans against the counter, close enough that his arm brushes yours, but he doesn’t miss the way you pull back slightly. It’s subtle, not rude, but clearly setting boundaries. That’s fine. He'll enjoy tearing those boundaries down.

“He always gets those calls at the worst times, doesn’t he?” he says, keeping his tone light, but he knows exactly what he’s doing. Planting the seed. Making you think.

“I guess.” You laugh, a little uncertain, and Rafe knows he’s got you hooked, just a little. “But to be honest, I don’t mind. His dad’s helping him prep for an interview he has next week..”

“Oh—is that who he said was on the phone? His dad?” He lets the words hang in the air, just enough to make you wonder, to make you question.

You frown, just a flicker, but he sees it. “Well, yeah... who else would it be?”

Rafe shrugs, as if he hadn’t meant to say anything at all. “Oh, nothing. It’s just... Topper talks a lot. To a lot of people. Friends... Other girls... It's probably harmless, but, you know... people talk...” He flashes you a quick smile, a little sheepish, like he’s just looking out for you. "People talk..."

Your brow furrows, confusion and a hint of worry crossing your face. “What other girls?”

He waves a hand dismissively, playing it off. “It’s probably nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. Just... you know how it is around here. People love to gossip; it’s mostly hearsay anyway.” But he knows he’s hit a nerve. He sees the doubt flickering in your eyes, the way you bite your lower lip as if you're turning over his words in your mind.

Before you can ask anything else, he changes the subject, shifting the focus.

“Hey, forget about it. Let me get you a drink. You look like you could use something stronger.” He reaches for a bottle on the counter, pouring two shots of something clear and potent, handing one to you with a grin. “Topper will just have to catch up when he gets back.”

You hesitate, just for a moment, but then you take the glass, smiling back at him. “Okay, okay” you say, clinking your glass against his.

The first shot goes down easy, the warmth spreading through your chest, and Rafe watches you closely, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Another?” he asks, already reaching for the bottle, not giving you time to think or say no. You nod, a little more eagerly this time, and he pours again, his movements smooth, practiced.

One drink becomes two, then three. Rafe keeps them coming, always ready with another pour, keeping your glass filled, keeping the conversation light and funny, distracting you from the fact that he'd only had one to your three. Distracting you from the way your head begins to feel pleasantly fuzzy. He’s careful, calculating, making sure you don’t notice how he’s watching you, gauging just how tipsy you’re getting.

By the time the third shot is gone, you’re giggling, swaying just slightly where you stand. A fucking lightweight if he’d ever seen one. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes a little glassy, and Rafe knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He moves closer, his shoulder pressing lightly against yours, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone.

“Hey, let’s get out of here for a bit. It’s too crowded, and you look like you could use some fresh air. What do you think?” He says it so smoothly, so surely, that you don’t realize the kitchen is already empty.

You blink, a little slow, unsure, but then you nod, laughing softly. “Yeah… maybe… for a few minutes...” Your words slur just a bit, but you don’t notice, don’t seem to care. You’re too wrapped up in the haze and the banter you're sharing.

He reaches out, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist, a touch that lingers, and this time, you don’t pull away. “Come on,” he urges, his voice low and coaxing. “Just for a bit. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

You nod again, and he leads you outside, into the cool night air, away from the party. He knows he's in dangerous territory, anyone can see you leaving with him but he doesn’t care. He’s too far gone. Drunk on the idea of having you all to himself, away from the lights, away from Topper, where it’s just you and him and the night.

And as he guides you down the porch steps, he knows he’s one step closer to what he wants. One step closer to having you, in whatever way he can. One step closer to making sure you’d never look at Topper the same way again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

PART 2 / STORY MASTERLIST

Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like / reblog / comment as I would love to know what you think. Part 2 will be up tomorrow but in the meantime lots of love ❤️

[lolahasmoxie]

Best Friend (E.M.)

WARNING: angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, sexy times, disgusting fluff, Eddie being too sweet and precious for this world.

NOTES: I'm in a mood. I blame this time of year. Also, the end quote is inspired by the Simpsons. Points if you know the episode it's from.

DIVIDER BY @firefly-graphics

You're at a house party, and Eddie watches you like a hawk across the kitchen.

You're here alone; your boyfriend of two years is nowhere to be seen. You're talking with Robin and a group of girls, and even though you're smiling, Eddie can tell you're faking it. You've been faking it for a week now.

Your friends don't know, but Eddie knows. Your smile hasn't reached your eyes in a week. A trivial thing that most people would miss. But Eddie has been in love with you since you were 15; when you love someone that long, you pick up on things like that.

When you excuse yourself from the group, Eddie follows as you head out into Harrington's backyard. He sees how your shoulders sag once you think no one is around. The way you sit like the world's weight is on your shoulders as you sit in a lounger by the pool.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

Eddie smiles to himself as he takes a seat next to you.

"Should ask you that; you've been off all week."

"What do you know?"

Eddie isn't phased by your snippy remark; it's more bark than bite. He gives you a "Are you serious" look as he scoots a bit closer to you, close enough that the denim of his jeans touches your bare leg.

"You don't have to tell me. But it might make you feel better if you didn't keep it in."

Eddie watches you from his periphery as your body tenses before you let out a defeated sigh.

"He cheated on me."

The words make Eddie want to hunt your man down and pummel him until he can't feel his hands. The last time he wanted to inflict that kind of violence was the last time he saw his old man.

"He's been seeing her for almost six months, and then he said he didn't love me anymore."

"He's a fucking idiot."

"You have to say that you're my best friend."

"When have I EVER said anything that I didn't want to?"

He can see the hint of a smile on your lips as you discreetly try to wipe at your waterline.

"He's an idiot. He didn't deserve you; he never did."

"Keep talking like that, and I might think you were jealous."

Eddie's body stills, his heart dropping into his ass at your words. He had spent years lying. First, to himself over his real feelings and then to you as he tried to hide those feelings as he watched you repeatedly date the wrong guy over and over.

"Eddie."

He doesn't turn to face you when you call his name. Turning will begin a conversation he doesn't know if he's ready to have. The delicate dance he's held you in will disappear, and the possibility that he will end up alone is more than he can bear.

"How long?"

Eddie turns then, brows furrowed in question.

"How long?"

"About 10 minutes after our first conversation in freshman English."

He lets out a heavy sigh, face looking straight ahead as he still refuses to look at you.

"Why didn't you say something? You had so much time?"

"You seemed happy. That's all I ever wanted. It's all I'll ever want."

He turns his head when your hand touches his chin, letting you pull him to meet your eyes. He watches as you study him like you're seeing him for the first time.

"Tell me what you're thinking, Y/N."

"Make me forget."

Eddie gasps softly at your request.

"You don't mean that."

"You think you're the only one hiding their real feelings?"

You're both staring at each other now. Your waterline is still teary, but Eddie is pretty sure this has nothing to do with your now ex. He reaches for your hand, entwining your fingers and feeling elated when you squeeze.

"If we do this, it's going to change everything. There'll be no going back."

"I hope not."

Eddie can't help but chuckle when he sees your smile finally reach your eyes.

"I'm serious; this could ruin everything."

"Oh, Eddie,"

Eddie's breath catches when you lean in closer, your lips right against the shell of his ear.

"It could also be amazing."

Eddie lets out a shaky breath before standing. He stretches out a hand and helps you out of the lounger before he leads you out of the party through the front door. He opens the door of his van for you, leaning over you to buckle you in with a cheeky grin. Then he's behind the wheel, revving the engine as he drives to your apartment without another word.

The sun is barely coming in through your curtains when you wake. Stretching your limbs like a cat, you smile at the soreness in your thighs and between your legs. You reach an arm out and sit up when you feel empty sheets next to you.

The night comes crashing back in stages. The fumbled kisses as he crowded you into your apartment. The look in his eyes as his plush lips worshipped your pussy until you had to drag him up by his hair. The way he whimpered when he was finally buried balls deep inside you. How you had both finally collapsed after what felt like hours. Eddie sending you off to sleep with a flurry of soft declarations of his love.

And now, he wasn't here.

You feel the panic bubble when you hear footsteps coming down the hall. The smell hits you next: freshly brewed coffee. Then Eddie is softly pushing into the room, naked and holding two hot cups of coffee.

"Morning, Sweetheart. Hope I didn't wake you."

You're incapable of speaking, and Eddie stops when he sees you. He puts the mugs down and quickly climbs into bed next to you.

"What's wrong? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You shake your head as you let him pull you close.

"You weren't here, I thought. Never mind, it's stupid."

"Don't say that. Just wanted to make my girl some coffee. I know how grumpy she gets without her caffeine fix."

"Asshole."

Eddie smiles at the remark, all bark and no bite. He hands you your mug, watching you take a small sip as he rests beside you.

"So,"

Eddie freezes at your tone. He knows that tone. It's usually the harbinger of bad news. He steels himself, waiting for you to tell him that last night was a mistake and that he needs to be on his way.

"I'm your girl now, huh?"

Eddie can't hide his smile. It stretches ear to ear as he snuggles in closer to you. His head rests on your shoulder, lips pressing to your skin as he breathes you in.

"I think you've always been my girl."

"Well, I'm glad we're on the same page now."

"Yeah, but now I have this new problem."

Eddie's smile doesn't falter as he sits up. He takes your mug and places it on your nightstand. Before you can speak, he's laying you back down on the mattress, his body moving over yours like a panther.

"I meant what I said in the van last night. What did I say was gonna happen once I stopped the van?"

You sigh as he rests his weight on you. Eddie takes your hands, bringing them above your head. He entwines your fingers, both of you giving reassuring squeezes that this is what you both want.

"You said that you were gonna hug me."

A kiss to your neck.

"You were gonna kiss me."

A brush of his lips against yours.

"And?"

You feel his cock warm and heavy against your pussy.

"You were never gonna let me go."

He kisses you as he enters you, and he has you moaning as the sun rises in the East.

[russellsppttemplates]

I never knew anybody 'til I knew you (Lando Norris)

Your new job is allowing you to have new experiences, and your heart is not too mad about it either

Note: english is not my first language. After a long time in the books, I'm finally writing for Lando! This is my first long piece and I hope I did well enough!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: curse words, mentions alcohol consumption

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm just saying, it's closer that way. We can go and get the packages ourselves and sort out any issues with them straight away", Lando reasoned, opening his text message app so he could continue what he wanted to do. "Okay, fine by me. He's got a point, Y/N", Max raised his hands in surrender, looking at you for your opinion.

Working for Quadrant hadn't been a goal you had set out to accomplish in the strict sense of it. You didn't see yourself working for a massive company where people were stuffed in offices where the only way they could know their colleagues' names was when they had online meetings that took far too long and discussed the baseline of the issues. So, when you saw the job offer for someone in the Graphic Design area of work, you looked up the company name and saw their work, fascinated with how the guys had grown this business from streaming online gaming. Later, as you progressed in the recruitment process, you came to learn that Lando and Max also had a more public presence than you had initially figured out, despite all of your friends' insistence that "you can't be that clueless, Y/N, how did you not know that Quadrant was Lando Norris'? I thought you applied because of that", they would say as you shrugged your shoulders, "in this economy, do you think I am that picky about a job? I have my preferences, sure, but I know what I'm worth and I saw the offer was actually quite okay!", you defended yourself.

You ended up getting the spot and, so far, you couldn't complain. Most of the time you worked with Callum, Max and Tara, since your work overlapped with theirs, and every now and again, like right now, Lando would also meet up with you.

"Are you sure it's fine if I go? Your parents know Max, but they haven't met me before. Are you sure they won't find it weird?", you spoke directly to Lando, thinking that his idea, as lovely and kind as it was, didn't account for the facts you were stating.

"Max is coming because he's from the team, and you're from the team, too, so you're coming with us as well", Lando said simply, not seeing the problem.

"But he's been your friend for so long now, I'm a Quadrant Team member", you attempted again, "they don't have to provide for and give a roof to a stranger, I'll find an hotel to spend the night", you offered, wanting to be clear about it.

"You're part of the team, too! Don't worry about that, okay?", Lando said, "besides, mum loves having a full house, she's definitely the host of the family", he smiled, checking the item on his list nd carrying on the meeting.

"When we're there, we'll be able to get our hands on the embroidered Originals collection", Max began, "hopefully they're perfect and we can start working on the website", he gestured as you turned your laptop so they both could see, "this is the concept I've come up with, since this isn't as flashy or as colourful as past collections", you showed them the mood board, looking for disapproval signs but being met with looks of surprise instead, "I know it's not usually what you go for, so I also have another idea here, if you just let m-", you were about to change when Lando slapped your hand away from the mouse and holding it in his, "I really like this one, especially these posts here, I think the ideas are great!", he noted as he set your hand down on the table, "okay, then I can keep working on this", you said, closing the other tab, "do you have something better than this?", Max asked, "seems as good to me!", he offered.

"This is just a draft, I'll invest more time in this and I'll have it ready for the end of the week. That way we can have it ready when the clothes arrive. I'll text Tara to ler her know", you smiled, grabbing your phone as the boys flickered through the ideas, pointing out the different details they liked and wanted to keep.

.

"I'm way too young for my life to be just this, so please drive safely, Max", you said, buckling your seatbelt and exaggerating your hold on the door handle, "if you weren't such a crucial part of this team, I'd make you reconsider your jokes", he teased back, reversing out of the parking space and initiating the trip.

Lando was already at his parents' house since they had a family gathering the day before, so you and Max were driving up to meet him, "they're really nice people, really chilled as well", Max began, "Adam and Cisca, that is. I can hear you thinking and I'm assuming that is what's going on in your head", he stated.

"I don't want to step on anyone's toes, and I don't want to embarrass anyone or myself even. Can you imagine Lando's parents finding out their son's company has questionable employees? They'll mark me off as some sort of strategy fool or think that I want to take this company down, and I don't!", you uttered out, sharing more than you meant to.

Impostor's Syndrome was a bitch, and it often showed up the moment things got progressively harder, and while you knew you were able to deal with it, the little voice still nagged you.

"Y/N, you're one of the most valuable people we have on the team, and I don't say that lightly. This is Lando's baby, and yes, he's the face of it and that counts for most of it, but the work behind it is just as important and with the numbers we're having, it all comes down to you. Since you joined us the designing aspect of it, - obviously, you wouldn't be the one responsible for accounting, duh -, the compliments have been non stop, it has improved the interactions, too!", he said honestly, "you have nothing to worry about, truly", he comforted, "it's this exit here", he mumbled, checking the GPS and turning on the blinker, slowing down the car as they entered the city.

You didn't have to wait long before he pulled up to a big house, the gravel sound quieting down until it came to a halt when Max stopped the car, "Lando said he'd meet us at the door, I really don't fancy being mistaken by a burglar", he joked, getting out of the car as you did the same, stretching your legs and taking in the sight.

"Max, Y/N! Did you have a good trip?", Lando made himself be heard and seen, walking up to you and grabbing the bags his friend was taking out of the car boot, "I'll take these", he offered, picking up your luggage as you pulled on your backpack, "thanks", you smiled, following him as he led the way into his parents' house.

"My parents are in the kitchen", the Formula One driver said, ushering you to the roomy space after he and Max dropped the bags by the stairs, "Max, dear! We haven't seen you in so long, how are you?", a beautiful woman said. Her hair was brown and her skin was tanned as she hugged Max and Lando, "this is Y/N, she is our graphic designer", he presented you, the older man hugging you and his wife doing the same, "I'm Adam, it's so nice to finally meet you", he smiled warmly, "likewise", you smiled back.

"You can call me Cisca, darling. We've heard so much about you, it's nice to finally put a face to the name", she winked at you as you didn't miss Lando elbowing his mother as he closed his eyes, sighing at her, "thank you for having me over, I hope it's not too much trouble", you thanked again, feeling more at ease at their genuine welcoming greetings.

Lando quickly scrambled an answer, seemingly not wanting his parents to talk, "of course it's fine, no trouble here! Let's get your things upstairs so we can settle in and work!", he clapped his hands, walking to the corridor and up the stairs with Max as you excused yourself.

"This is your room, you have the bathroom on the next door", he pointed on the corridor after he placed your bag and backpack down in the small sofa, "Max is in the office, it's just across the hall and I'm at the end of the hall, if you need anything", Lando offered.

"Thanks, again. Do you guys want to begin now? I just need to put on some fluffy socks and I'm good to go", you said, "yes! Is the dining room okay with your parents? The table is big enough to layout everyhting", Max chirped in, whistling at your room as he looked around, "she got an upgrade, good move!", he tapped his friend's back.

After Lando cleared it with his parents, he was quick to remove the table runner and flower vase from the dining room table, extending it to its biggest size so you had all the space you needed, "you can sit here, Y/N, it's usually where the room heats up faster", he pointed out the radiator, pulling up the chair next to your and typing on his iPad.

"So this is the video idea? I like it, we just need to find some background music for it", Max asserted, grabbing his phone to check the time, "we should get going to pick up the order", he uttered.

"Do you need all of us to go?", you asked, saying the changes in your laptop as you did,

"You can pull your the backseats of your car down, can't you, Max? That way we can bring more boxes, and you and me go", Lando reasoned, looking over at you, "do you mind staying here while we go get them?", he asked, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.

"I'll be fine, you go", you smiled, opening your notebook and writing down some notes.

"Oh, darling, you could've turned the lights on. Soon enough you'll be like me and need glasses", Cisca said as she stood on by the door, flickering the lights on as your eyes got used to the brightness, "I already wear them, or I should more often anyway", you blushed, suddenly getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar, grabbing your case from your backpack and putting them on.

When Lando and Max left, you decided to work on the website graphics, checking how the campaign would work with the current layout, that you lost track of time.

"May I see what you're working on?", she asked, "it's okay if I may not, I don't want to intrude", she smiled as you pulled up the chair next to you, "I don't know much about these things, but I always get quite fascinated with this part", she said, sitting down and looking at the screen.

Already driving back home, Lando and Max talked about the plans once they arrived, "and that way Y/N can also finish the social media stuff, and maybe you'll have more time to actually make a move on her", he teased.

Lando scoffed, "I'm not trying to make a move on her", he defended himself, "I'm glad to know, because if those moves were what you had, it wouldn't surprise it that it didn't go very far", Max yelped as his friend took the opportunity of the straight road ahead to hit his thigh, "so that's what you talk about? Here I am thinking about business and you're meddling in my love life?".

"I never said it was love life, but since you've admitted it, it's saving me time. So, what are you planning? I could help since this seems to be stalled", Max tried again, holding his hands in protection of his body in case Lando hit him again.

"I wouldn't know where to begin, I mean, it will make things awkward if this goes south, right? I'd never be able to look at her again, much less work with her", Lando admitted, "She's very kept to herself as well, I highly doubt that she'll want to be involved with me in that way. Whoever I date or interact with has to deal with enormous amount of public eye and I wouldn't spring that up on her", Lando mumbled, taking the road exit on his left.

"So you've given this some thought, too. Here we are thinking you're coming to the meetings to help and now you're just blushing when we talk about Y/N", Max joked back as Lando shook his head.

"We're back!", Lando announced, walking inside the dining room while pushing the boxes with Max, "don't worry, mum, we're not scratching the floors", he said, sweetly kissing the side of her head, "are you planning to work for us?", he noticed she was sitting next to you, notebooks of the projects open and sheets and fabrics all over the table in front of you.

"Y/N was kindly showing me the project you're working on, for the launch, and it looks really nice!", she complimented, placing a hand on your shoulder and the other on your arm, "she's been showing me everything, I've probably stolen some valuable time from you, darling, I'm sorry", she slumped her shoulders slightly, "not at all, it's all under way, don't worry", you smiled, easing her worries, "I'll leave you guys to it, how about I make some tea?", she suggest as the three of you nodded.

"We have the boxes here, they're sorted by colours", Lando opened the first box, "these are only for the Originals collection, right?", you checked over, peaking at the blue hoodie he pulled out.

"The sizing is right, right?", Max wondered as Lando stretched it out, "Y/N, can you try these, please? We need to check if the model is good for guys and girls".

Getting up from your spot, you grabbed the vibrant blue piece, feeling its soft texture against your fingertips, "I have wider hips that average, I'm not sure I'm the greatest test model for that", you shrugged your shoulders, "keep that in mind". Taking off your sweater so your torso was covered in a strappy top, you pulled the new garment on, adjusting the strings around the neck so you could pull it all the way down, "Oh, it's so soft", you noticed, "and warm, too. And feels quite good actually, it's not too tight", fumbling with the ribbed material on the bottom as you checked yourself out on the windows now that it was dark outside.

Lando gulped as you did so. Oh, had Lando noticed your hips. To anyone else, it would be another feature of your body, but he was enamoured by them. Your body's curvy outline enticed him and he would be lying if he said that it wasn't the first thing he noticed at first glance when you arrived for you last interview, especially with the tapered pants you had been wearing.

"Looks nice. What do you think, mate?", Max turned to Lando, hoping to get an answer but finding him looking at you, "is there something wrong? I told you I'm not the best mo-".

"It's gorgeous, looks gorgeous", he breathed out just as his mother walked inside carrying a tray with tea and some biscuits, "Here's the tea, guys", she said, setting it on the table, "wow, that's a very nice piece!", she complimented.

"It is, isn't it, Cisca?", Max said, covering up her son as he kept looking at you as you tested the front pocket, not noticing his gaze on you.

"You also have a very beautiful model, you can't ignore that factor in the equation", she complimented you while you grabbed a mug, taking a sip of the warm liquid and hoping it hid your pink cheeks, "thank you", you whispered.

While Lando helped his father with dinner, Max convinced his mother to show you both family albums, and once you had the delicious food they prepared, you excused yourself so you could use the shower, wanting to wash the day of travelling away. Max and Cisca stayed in the living room while Lando helped his father prepare dessert, checking on the apple crumble in the oven so it could get golden brown and not burnt, "so, any life updates recently?", the older man asked.

Lando wasn't around as much as they both would've liked, so often times his visits also came along with news and updates, "not much, racing has been good, it's nice to have a break now, even if it's just two weeks", he offered, looking at the oven.

"And nothing else? I mean, no one special? Your mother is usually the blunt one, but I'm going to try it myself: Y/N is just a Quadrant Team Member?", Adam questioned, noticing his son's cheeks become redder.

"Is it that noticeable? I just hope she doesn't see it as much as you do", Lando groaned, rubbing his cheeks, "maybe you should hope she notices, you know? Maybe she'll admit she likes you, too. You never know", Adam patted his son's back, grabbing the gloves so he could take the tray out of the oven, "she seems like a really nice girl, kind, good work ethic, intelligent, and she's beautiful", he finished as his son sighed, grabbing the vanilla ice cream from the freezer, "she's all of that and so much more".

.

"Kygo is doing a set tonight", you heard Max say as you walked inside the living room, taking the spot on the sofa next to Lando since his mother had taken your previous spot when you went to use the bathroom, "I've been meaning to ask you guys if you wanted to go, actually. He texted me saying to tell him if we were planning on going", Lando stated.

"Go and enjoy being young, life is not all about work if you can't enjoy yourself", Cisca shared, "dad and I won't complain if you make noise when you get back", she winked.

"Would you like to go, Y/N? You can say no, that's fine, too", Lando turned to you. He knew Max would be down on a heartbeat, but he didn't want you to feel pressured to do something you didn't want to because you were at his parents' place as a guest.

"I'm good, I like his music, too. I've been wanting to see him live for a bit, actually", you smiled, thinking about how lucky you were to be able to have these experiences because of your job and friends.

Later that night, you're getting ready in your room, sitting on the carpeted floor and applying your make-up for the occasion. The dressier outfit you had brought with you consisted of a burnt red top and some pants as it had become the outfit you had felt the most comfortable and confident in to go out. The top complimented your chest and your midsection as your pants looked really good around your hips and butt, your legs elongated by the small heeled shoes you had spent years looking for. They were comfortable, pretty and functional, ticking all the boxes for what you needed for tonight.

"Y/N, can I come in?", your heard Lando knock on the door, welcoming himself when you said he could, "we are leaving in about ten minutes, if that's okay", he said, taking a good look at you as you fiddled with your earring, "yes, fine by me", you smiled looking back in the mirror propped on the bedside table and finally clasping it, looking back at him.

You took his breath away. It was as simple as that. Your hair had your natural curls he loved so much, your makeup complimented your naturally soft beautiful features and your outfit made you look incredible.

"You guys ready?", Max patted the door, propping himself on it as you grabbed your shoes, "I'll put them on downstairs", you said, carrying them in your right hand as you had your small purse on the left.

While you did the small, dainty tie on your shoes, Lando's eyes went straight for your chest, the slightly bent down position granting him an agonisingly teasing angle as he tried his best to look away, "you might want to be less obvious, you don't need to creep her out to get her to be yours", Max whispered in Lando's ear.

As soon as you arrived, Lando and Max walked with you to the VIP area, asking you what you wanted to drink before they went up to get it.

Lando looked great on his white shirt, the light coloured shirt looking great against his tanned skin as the relaxed fit complimented his back, prompting you to make sure you weren't drooling in public. You worked for his company, it would never be a good idea to get romantically involved with him, no matter how many times your heart leaped.

"A very weak Gin and Tonic for you, as requested", Max said as he pushed the cup towards you, carrying nother drink for himself, Lando sitting next to you on the booth and empty handed, "you're not drinking?", you asked, "I'm driving us all home today, I'm want to do it safely", he stated, tapping his hands on the table when he saw Kygo, signalling him to approach you.

"Hey Lando, Max", he smiled, "I'm Y/N, I work for Quadrant", you smiled, greeting him with a half hug as he introduced himself too, "my set is in a few minutes, you got here just in time. If you want to see it up close, Y/N, let me know and I'll make it happen", he winked at you.

The wink was not missed by Lando or Max. While Max wanted to laugh at his friend's jealous expression, threatening to send the norwegian DJ to a place that was less than nice and sunny, Lando couldn't believe his eyes. Yes, it was only fair that others, too, saw your beauty and noticed you, but to put themselves out like that, that was a different story. You didn't seem to bothered by all of it, sipping on your drink as you spoke to Max, pointing out different people you remember from Silverstone earlier that year.

"Kygo's starting, I want to dance!", you said, getting up and gesturing for the boys to join you. While you were used to having a lot less space to dance in, the welcomed freedom was appreciated as you playfully placed your pointer finger on Max's head, making him do a little spin, "now, no need to be jealous, Lando, you can twirl, too!", you yelled over the music blasting from the speakers, doing the same and sinking your finger on Lando's curls.

"I'm going to get another drink, want anything?", Max asked, excusing himself when you shook your head, "you know you can drink, I'm the designated driver", Lando offered, "I know, thank you for that. I just don't want to drink more", you smiled, recognising the next song, feeling brave and pulling Lando by his hand so he could dance with you.

I never knew anybody 'til I knew you

I never knew anybody 'til I knew you

And I know when it rains, oh, it pours

And I know I was born to be yours

Lando twirled you would face him, chest flush against his as his colourful eyes looked into yours intensely, "I know this is very forward, and very unlike me to be fair, but I need to get it out", he gulped as he spoke loudly in your ear, looking for any sign of discomfort from you, "I really like you, like, a lot. And I would like to know if you feel the same. Because Max and my parents seem to think you do, but all I know they're just saying so that I shut up about how much I love you and how much it would mean to me", he spoke loudly against your ear as the song played.

You were struck by his confession, not expecting it to ever happen, much less like this and in these circumstances.

"If you consider this a hostile work environment, I didn't want that, but I had to be honest with you", he gulped, "just say you don't feel the same and I'll drop the subject, okay? I might have to pretend to go somewhere else so I can be away from you a bit until things are not awkward, but don't worry, I won't drink because I'm driving and-", Lando belted out before you interrupted him, moving your face closer to his neck this time and speaking into his ear, "It's not hostile if it's consensual, right?", you smiled, a glint in your eye as his own widened, chuckling as he sang the the words in your ear, taking the opportunity to kiss your cheek near your earlobe.

"Took you two fucking long enough!", Max yelled as he approached you, tapping Lando's back in congratulations, "you know what this means, Y/N? I won't have to listen to him mope about how he thinks he was made for you and you were made for him, and that the universe would have to be playing a very bad joke of you two didn't end up together!".

"What makes you think I'll stop that? I just got the girl of my dreams, now I'll have the confirmations of all I've said! You'll just hear how amazing all of it is!", Lando smiled, hugging you close to him and kissing the top of your head.

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // prologue

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 0.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: hi! welcome to the prologue for requiem!! just a taste to set things up :) sorry !!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

'Are you coming to the zoo after class?' The note Coryo slid in front of you asks. You look up at him and nod, before taking your pen and scribbling underneath his penwork on the same page, sliding it back as your teacher went on and on about things you had already studied and knew by heart.

'Walk together?'

Now it's his turn to nod, meeting your gaze with a smile.

You hadn't had the chance to meet your tribute yet, but Coryo's idea to go and greet his tribute was very smart. You admired it- he was brave to do that, but something deep in the back of your chest made you uneasy about it. Regardless, you and several of your classmates would make the trip after school to go greet them, bring them food, and get to know them as much as you could. You part ways with him once you arrive, planning to walk home together later.

"Valkyrie?" You call out, scanning the tributes trapped in the cage to try and pinpoint her. You see her when her head turns at the name and you smile, waving her over. "My name is Y/N. I'll be your mentor."

She doesn't say anything as she stops in front of you, giving you a death glare that could give you chills. She looked strong. It was good, she'll do well in the games. "It's nice to meet you," you continue. "My job is to help you however I can. So anything you need or want, I'm your girl. Just say the word."

Her cold stare doesn't falter, but you try not to let your discomfort show. You need her to trust you, that was Coryo's best advice, so you would do all you could to take it. "Are you hungry? You must be. I brought you some food." You don't wait for a response that you know isn't coming, digging in your bag already.

"It's my favorite, but I do hope you like it." You hum, pulling out a container with some crackers and honey, and a lemon to cut up and put in your water bottles. "Care to sit?" You offer, already sitting down yourself, kneeling in front of the bars. You smile when she obliges, matching your posture across from you.

"I'm a singer, and honey is really good for the throat." You explain, hoping that she'll begin to trust you if she knows you a little better. "It's a nice bonus that it tastes good, too. I'm not supposed to have sugar, but I think honey is the next best thing." You open the container, trying not to expose the shakiness in your hands as you grab the small bowl of honey and a knife to spread it, but this fails drastically when you accidentally drop it and it falls past the bars just out of your reach.

"Oh, gosh- I'm just so clumsy, would you mind passing that to me?" You ask, trying to reach for it anyway. You grin when she reaches out for it, picking it up by the handle. "Thank you..." You tell her, leaning closer to grab it from her hand. Something in her eyes shifts so fast you have no chance to really pick up on it before she grabs your hair with her other hand and pulls you back into the bars.

You scream, adrenaline pumping through your veins in an instant as you try and pull yourself away but it's too late and your screams are silenced by the blade of the knife against your throat.

Your eyes go wide as she lets you go, hands coming up to your neck out of instinct and when you pull one away it's warm and covered in red. Blood. Your own blood. You're choking, trying to breathe but the air feels sticky as you fall back. "Y/N! Y/N? Hey, look at me. Look at me!" Your best friend cries out, suddenly in front of you with his arms at your sides, lowering you carefully to the ground.

You stare up at him, hands still clasped over your neck which he matches with his own, doing his best to try and stop the bleeding. "Help! Somebody, help!" He shouts, turning and hoping help is coming as your heartbeat drums behind your ears.

Several gunshots ring out, echoing in the back of your head as you stare up at the sky and Coryo drops down on top of you, likely trying to dodge the bullets. You don't know where they were going- and you don't care.

You try and speak but no sound is coming out, just the sickening gurgle of your own blood replacing the smoothness of your voice. You know it's really not good when your vision starts to blur, the last thing you see being Coryo's panicked expression as he looks over you, desperately yelling at you to stay awake and for someone to please, please help.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[michelleleewise]

Chocolate and promises

Pairing: Loki x female reader (eventually)

Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, slight mention of blood, hitting, mentions of bruises and injuries (not graphic), toxic relationship, reader needs a hug, possessiveness, controlling behavior, self deprecating thoughts, minor dark themes, loki comforting reader

Summary: your friendship with Loki and grown over the last two years, until something threatened to take it away

A/n- this chapter will have two parts. A&B, it was too long for one part lol.... Graphics by: @harlequin-hangout 💚💚

Part one--part two: a-

You ran down the hall making your way to Loki's room, wanting him to be the first to know, You bounced on your feet knocking on the door hearing shuffling on the other side, smiling as the door opened revealing.. "oh..hey, is Loki in there?" You asked smiling at the man. "Whose asking?" He huffed crossing his arms. Another jealous one..you thought to yourself "y/n...best friend. And you are?" You asked holding your hand out watching him look down his nose at it "Jason.." he sneered keeping his arms crossed. "Well..Jason is Loki here?" You asked again when the door opened further revealing your Loki.

Hello my dear, how are you?" He asked stepping into the hall wrapping you in a hug. "Great! I have news, but your bodyguard here wouldn't let me pass...I must not be on the list." You said as Loki turned to the man. "Just because I shared my bed with you for the night does not give you liberty to tell my friend anything, am I clear?" He snapped seeing Jason's eyes widen "I'm sorry, it won't happen again." He said stepping back "your right, it will not. See that you are gone when I return." He said turning back to you "what was your news darling?" He asked guiding you down the hall to the kitchen.

"Oh yes! Allen asked me to move in with him!" You screeched as loki rounded the island grabbing the kettle "isn't it a bit soon y/n?" He asked seriously filling the kettle "we've been dating six months loki, dont be such a prude." You snarked sitting on the stool "I beg your pardon?" He feigned offense, one hand on his chest "I thought you would be happy for me." You said seriously "I am dear, I just don't want you to rush into anyrhing." He said smiling "some of us don't have as much time as you old man." You snarked "well if your just going to call me an old maid.." he started "no! No..I just...I'm happy." You said smiling as Loki walked around the island "if you are happy then I am." He said pulling you into a hug.

"And everything is going to be great! You'll still see me here, and don't even think your getting out of our movie nights." You smiled hearing him laugh "Well I should hope not, what else do I have to look forward to?" He asked grabbing two cups from the cabinet "Oh I don't know....jason." you smiled seeing him glare at you. "Sorry about that by the way." You said looking down "you did nothing wrong, he had no right to say anything. Besides...he wasn't that good anyway." He said shrugging making you laugh "oh..so no loss then?" You asked as he slid a cup to you "Darling, as long as I have you, I'll be fine." He smiled "ooo careful, your bordering on sentiment." You said sipping your tea. "Only for you my dear." He smiled.

Loki looked at his phone for the umpteenth time seeing no messages, sighing as he set it down. It was going on six months since you moved out of the tower and he felt like he was losing you more and more each day. He sat back in his chair looking out the window thinking about the last few months. He had noticed your behavior slowly start to change from your happy, bubbly self that he adored beyond reason, to a quiet reserved shell. The drastic change unsettled him, as well as your change in wardrobe. Where once you wore bright pastels, were replaced with blacks and greys with the occasional dark blue. Not to mention the only skin showing was from your neck up and your hands. It gave him an uneasy feeling.

"Friday...is y/n in the tower?" He called out to the ceiling "no Mr Laufeyson she is not." The AI responded making him sigh. He hated what he was about to do but for you he would walk through Helhiem barefoot. He got to his feet and made his way down to the labs. His mind raced with possible scenarios as the elevator traveled down. If that insignificant human hurt you he would end him in the most painful way he could imagine. He was pulled from his thoughts as the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open.

Stark!" He yelled across the lab making Tony jump "geeze Rudolph give a guy a heads up." He said holding his chest "I need to know where y/n is, I have not heard from her in quite some time." Loki said crossing his arms. "Oh, she put her notice in." Tony said sitting down "what does that mean?" Loki snapped staring at him "it means she quit, she isn't here anymore." Tony explained "what..why?" Loki asked taken aback "something about her boyfriend wanting her to stay home or something" Tony said running a hand through his hair "but I told her she's welcome back whenever she wants." Tony explained. "Very well, thank you stark." Loki said turning around. "You've seen it too...haven't you?" Tony called out making Loki stop "whatever you do...don't get caught." Tony said, loki nodded before heading back to his room, something was going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

You heard the doorbell ring, hurrying to the door before it woke Allen, opening it seeing Loki standing there "H..hey...what are you doing here?" You asked looking around "I have not heard from you, so i.." he started "I'm fine..really." you hurried fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweater. You looked up seeing him frown. "Sorry I haven't messaged, I've just been really busy." You said smiling. "That's quite alright dear, I was wondering since you missed movie night, Stark is hosting a small evening for us, and I wanted you to join me." He smiled watching you. "Oh...um I don't know." You trailed off looking down when Loki gently grabbed your hand.

"Please darling, i..I miss you." He said, looking up seeing his eyes soften. "How can I say no to you." You said seeing him smile "then I shall see you there?" He asked "yes, I'll be there." You agreed when Loki leaned forward wrapping his arms around you making you stiffen before he stepped back looking at you "I'll see you tonight " He smiled turning to leave as you slowly closed the door. "Your not going." You heard from behind you making you jump. You turned heading for the kitchen "have you been talking to him again?" Allen asked making you freeze "what did you tell him?" He continued stalking towards you. "You took my phone, how could i...." You were cut off by the back of Allen's hand hitting your cheek, knocking you to the floor, touching your lip seeing red on your fingers.

"Are you talking back?" He snarled looking down at you. "No, I just..." you trailed off as his fingers threaded through your hair pulling harshly "I think someone needs taught a lesson." He said, pulling you up dragging you towards the bedroom "Allen stop! Your hurting me!" You yelled as he opened the door pushing you inside. "You know what to do." He snarled, kicking the door shut. You walked towards the bed, closing your eyes hearing his belt buckle "I think twenty should do it? Don't you think?" He asked walking up behind you. You stayed silent knowing that was the best option.

You laid awake, wincing when you rolled to your side, your eye and cheek stinging. You waiting for Allen to doze off, listening as his breathing evened out you knew it was now or never. You slowly crept out of bed, padding to the closet to grab whatever clothes you could find in the dark before going to the door, looking back hearing him snore you slowly opened the door, slipping out. You walked to the living room quickly throwing on the t-shirt and sweatpants, grabbing your shoes as you tip toed to the door. Slowly opening it to freezing as it creaked, looking back to the bedroom door praying he hadn't heard. After a few minutes you carefully slipped out closing the door behind you. You released the breath you had been holding as you bent down slipping your shoes on, looking up and down the dark street you sighed, starting towards the tower.

You slunk down alleyways and backstreets until you saw the top of the tower, taking a quick look around before making a run for it. You knew Allen would be awake soon, If he wasn't already and he would definitely notice you missing. You heart raced as you made it to the end of the alley across from the tower, your eye throbbed and your lip burned where it was split but you were so close you could taste it. If you could just make it over there everything would be fine. You took a deep breath, looking up an down the street before bolting to the doors, pulling them as hard as you could but they wouldn't budge. "Shit!...Tony!...Loki!" You yelled as loud as you could knowing they couldn't hear you.

You heard a car up the street, hurrying behind the building trying to hide when the car stopped. "Y/n! I know your out here!" You heard Allen yell making you blood run cold. "Just come home and I'll forgive you." He said when you heard footsteps rounding the building. "You know I love you I just got upset, let's talk about it." He continued. You looked around seeing a dumpster against the building, quickly running over lifting yourself in "stop making this harder then it needs to be!" He yelled when you heard a door fly open "Al, hey...what are you doing here? You heard Tony's voice. "Oh hey Tony, y/n and I had a small disagreement and she left. I thought she might be here." You heard Allen say back making you scoff.

"Well I haven't seen her, but if I do..." he trailed off "what is going on?" You heard a deep voice "loki.." you whispered, feeling a tear run down your cheek "hey lokes, Al here lost y/n." Tony said. "What did you do to her?" You heard Loki ask sternly "that's none of your business." You heard Allen snap back. "She's my friend, so I'm making it my business!" You heard Loki yell before the scuffle of footsteps "ok, ok calm down, Al go home. I'll call you if I see her." Tony said when you heard footsteps retreat. "You will not call him!" You heard Loki yell "of course not! But I wanted him to leave." Tony said. You released the breath you were holding, shifting to lift the lid of the dumpster.

You peeked out seeing Loki holding his daggers and Tony with his blaster on "Hey guys...it's just me." You said quietly, lifting the lid higher "Oh my God..y/n?" Loki said, rushing over he lifted you out like you weighed nothing, setting you on your feet but not letting go "what were you doing in there?" He asked brushing trash off your clothes "he was right behind me, i..." you trailed off feeling your eyes burn. "Well he's gone now, let's get you inside." Tony said holding the door open. Loki gently grabbed your arm guiding you, keeping your head down so your hair would cover your face. Making it upstairs you walked into the common room seeing it empty.

"Ever the insomniacs huh?" You laughed "Well i was headed to bed, y/n your welcome to any room you like, just let me know." Tony said heading back to the elevator "ok, thank you Tony." You said looking down "anytime kid...Loki." Tony said stepping onto the elevator. "I should probably find a room." You said keeping your eyes down, not wanting him to see how weak you had been when you felt his fingers under your chin, slowly lifting your head up to look at him. His eyes meeting your one, traveling across your face when you felt his thumb lightly brush you puffy cheek "l..loki...i..." you tried, feeling a lump rise in your throat when he wrapped his arms around you, gently cradling your head to his chest

"I am sorry y/n, I should have come sooner." He whispered, pressing his cheek to your head "no, it wasn't your fault loki, it was.." you started when he suddenly pulled back "no, absolutely not. None of this was your fault." He said through gritted teeth "I will have his hands for touching you." He growled beginning to pull away "no loki...please. he's not worth it." You said grabbing his shirt "he does not deserve his pathetic existence." He snarled trying to pull free "Please, don't go...stay with me." You whispered making him stop and look at you, his eyes softening "very well, anything for you darling." He said relaxing. "Help me find a room?" You asked looking down the hall. "If you wish, you could stay in my room tonight, everything is already set up." Loki said smiling.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose." You said fidgeting with your sweater. "You could never impose, come on let's get you settled." He said holding his arm out you looped yours around his as he guided you towards his room. "I'm not displacing Jason am i?" You asked smiling hearing him laugh "I would throw him out of the window for you dear." He said making you laugh "haven't you done that before?" You asked nudging him with your elbow "and I will again." He said looking over smiling at you. You made it to his room as he opened the door waving you in first. You looked around, smiling seeing nothing had changed.

"If you wish you can take a shower, there are towels In the bathroom, have you eaten?" Loki asked turning the lights on "um. No.." you said pulling on your sleeve "ok, I will make you something while you get cleaned up." He said walking into the small kitchen. "Loki.." you trailed off, his eyes meeting yours "Thank you, for everything." You smiled "I would burn the realm for you dear without hesitation." He smiled back. You walked to the bathroom closing the door with a soft click before pulling your sweater over your head, grimacing seeing the bruises littering your skin. Slowly running your fingers over them you finally let yourself feel as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Sinking to the floor you brought your knees to your chest quietly sobbing as the weight was lifted. Your life wasn't your own, it was Allen's. He had taken everything from you, and you were too weak to stop him. You thoughts spiraled when you heard a soft knock on the door "everything alright darling?" You heard Loki ask "yes, I'm ok." You called back wiping your face. "I have some sleep clothes for you when you are done, they are on the bed." He said "ok, thank you." You said standing up. Looking in the mirror at your puffy face you sighed "i want my life back." You said to yourself, walking over to the shower turning it on.

You came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel seeing Loki reading in the living room "I'll be right back" you said trying to duck into the bedroom, but your were sure he saw. You quickly dried off, slipping the clothes on he had left, smelling his cologne on the shirt making you sigh. You grabbed the towel throwing it in the basket seeing his cloak hanging by the door. Thoughtlessly reaching your hand out feeling the material "how is that so soft." You said grabbing it wrapping it around your shoulders seeing it engulphed you as you wrapped it around you. You walked into the living room seeing Loki set his book down "I see you've taken to claiming my things again." He laughed, standing up. "Oh i...um sorry I can put it back." You said starting to take it off when Loki grabbed it pulling it back over you "no, you are welcome to anything you wish darling." He smiled.

"Now, come eat." He said guiding you to the couch, he sat down patting the space between his legs holding up a hair brush "come darling, sit down." He said as you sat down on the floor between his knees, seeing he made you grilled cheese and soup. "T..thank you Loki." You said, feeling the lump return to your throat as he threaded his fingers through your hair. "You are welcome, now eat while I work my magic." He said making you smile. You took a few bites of your sandwich, feeling the brush glide through your hair, closing your eyes sighing "tilt your head Darling." He said as you shifted, laying your head on his thigh feeling his fingers seperate and twist your hair.

"Did you know, where I am from when we go in to battle and return victorious we place a braid in our to symbolize our strength and courage." You heard him say, your scalp tingling feeling his fingers gently glide through your hair "and you my dear have ridden through Hel and emerged triumphant." He said tying the end of the braid setting the brush down. "Darling.." he trailed off, looking down seeing your fast asleep. Running his fingers along the braid you shifted slightly, his cloak slipping down your shoulder revealing a bruise traveling around your neck, clenching his fist he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as you nuzzled his leg making him smile.

He got up, cradling your head he lifted you up carrying you to the bedroom gently laying you down tucking his cloak around you. Slowly backing up he felt your fingers wrap around his wrist "loki...please.." you trailed off, eyes still closed "yes darling? Do you need something?" He asked watching you "stay.." you mumbled pulling on his arm "I don't know y/n.." he said when you scooted over pulling him with you "please.." you whispered. He sighed, flicking his wrist changed into a shirt and sweatpants he laid down next to you as you curled up to his side, nuzzling your face into his shoulder making him laugh. He ran his fingers through your hair hearing you sigh. "Sweet dreams, my little valkyrie." He smiled closing his eyes.

@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @sinsandguilt @high-functioning-lokipath @mochie85 @slytherclaw1227 @jaidenhawke @budugu @xorpsbane @schizonephilim @lokidokieokie @holdmytesseract @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokixryss @asgardianprincess1050 @tallseaweed @aniar4wniak @sekaishell @lokispetblogs @loopsisloops @trojanaurora @lonadane @yelkmelk @stupidthoughtsinwriting @123forgottherest @silverfire475 @goblingirlsarah @commanding-officer @glitterylokislut @kkdvkyya @cueloki @daggers-and-mischief @sititran @witchyblue @verycollectivecreator @nixymarvelkins @chantsdemarins @shinraski @usagishira @nightshadelm @filthyhiddles @dukes2581 @assemblingavenger @lulubelle814 @irishhappiness @wolfsmom1 @luvlady-writes @lovingchoices14 @thomase1

[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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[softstarlite]

The Casualty of Love

CHAPTER 4

Summary: He's back home. You have almost forgotten how warm his eyes were and how big your crush for him was.

Warnings: Age gap (Javi is 40 and reader is 27), dry humping, kissing, mentions of mental health, mild insecurity from reader, cockblocking. (let me know if I left out any warnings)

Rating: +18 (a little explicit)

Word Count: 2k

Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Masterlist

A/N: Here's chapter 4 guys!! Hope you enjoy it. None of my work is beta read, so there might be some mistakes or things like that. Remember that english isn't my first language; feel free to help me improve but always been kind.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Javier makes his way through the backyard to where his dad is; before talking, he takes a deep breath “Pops, i'm heading out” the fingers on the hand by his side fidgeting.

“Already Javier? You haven't lasted even two hours this time…” Chucho sighs while putting the plate of barbacued chicken down.

“Yeah, pops, you know I hate these things…” he says, not meeting Chucho´s eyes.

“You didn't seem to be having the worst of times in there” Chucho points to the house with his head.

At Chucho´s comment, anxiety takes control over Javier´s body; maybe his dad did see something, what if he was too lost in your beautiful eyes and lips to notice?

“You both always knew how to comfort each other” Chucho continues after the lack of speaking from Javier “She always knew that you needed to get away from crowds at these things, so when you eventually disappeared, she just would lie to your mama and Maria, saying that you were at the bathroom or something else that would make them not come looking for you”

“Well, it seems we´ve spent way too long apart” Chucho observes that Javi´s feet have started to fidget and he worries “You think someone could drive you later? I wouldn't want to stop your fun” Javier´s eyes finally meet Chucho´s, making his dad even worry more for him when he sees anxiety in them.

“Javier, is everything okay? I don't mind going home already if you´re not fine… it's not like they don't make one of these every week or two weeks” Chucho says, ready to get up from his chair and leave.

“No, no, pops i'm fine, just a little overwhelmed, that's it” he calms his dad, reaching a hand out to stop him from getting up.

“You sure?” Javi nods to reassure him “well then okay, i'll ask someone to give me a ride back later” he looks at Javi as serious as he can now “call Doña Lucia´s home phone if you need anything, the number is on the phone book that's in the kitchen, okay mijo?”

“Yes pops, i will if i need to” he pats Chucho´s shoulder once and then turns towards the fence door to go back towards the truck.

When Javi left the inside of the house at first fear took hold of your body, fear of rejection, fear of him avoiding you in regret of what could've happened if his dad had not come in. Soon that fear becomes anger, at him for just stomping out of the situation without acknowledgment, anger of you or the situation, or both for that matter.

As you said, you´re not a teeneager anymore, you´re not letting him do this, specially him; any other man would be a disappointment but they would just disappear from your life eventually, but him, even if you wanted to get him out of your life, which you think you would never want, it would never work, Chucho was your family and you would never abandon him and your mom was his family as well.

You hop off the kitchen counter, put the beer in your hand down, not caring even the slightest about it now, and go through the house towards the front door. You step out onto the front porch, your eyes survey the front of the house, searching for the truck you´ve known for many years now, through the sea of cars from the people who have come to the get together. As soon as you see it, you walk to it and see that no one is inside of it yet.

You know him, you know he's going to try to run from the situation, so he's going to come to the truck eventually. You lean into the driver's door, crossing your arms over your chest; right now you don't even care about the killing heat from the sun shooting straight at you from above or that your shoes are forgotten somewhere in the backyard.

Your mind goes through a million things you want to tell him when he comes but as soon as your ears pick up on the sound of the fence door by the side of the house, you are not sure what you want to tell him, insecurity hurts your chest. What if he was actually going to shove you back before Chucho came in instead of leaning in?

You can hear him curse when he sees you there leaning into his truck.

“Vampirita…” he says when he stops about two big strides from you, his tone pleading.

“No, don't vampirita me” you uncross your arms, letting them fall at your sides “you´re not running away from this, i'm not letting you”

He takes one stride towards you, but still he's not as close as you want him, as you need him “this,” he points at the air between you “can't happen”

A twinge of pain crosses your chest and one of your hands shoots to it like it could physically take it away “why not?” you know your eyes are already glossy, the fear of rejection you had before is now becoming a real thing. You feel like a little kid right now, and you're hating yourself for it.

“Because you…you are you and i'm me, cariño” he makes the attempt to touch you but he stops himself halfway.

You scoff “what an amazing argument Javier” you take a little step towards him, still leaving some distance between you two “I don't know if you´ve notice, but we are both consent adults”

“Trust me, cariño, i ́ve definitely noticed it'' his eyes can't help to run your body “that is the problem”

“Then…” you break the space between you both, your fingers caressing his upper arm “kiss me, please”

Please, you just said please, to him… Javier closes his eyes hard, feeling the cord of control inside of him tense more and more every second you stand there in front of him, your fingers touching him even over his white short sleeved button up.

“Javi…” he opens his eyes after hearing you “please…”

And just like that the cord of self control snaps; one of his hands goes straight to tangle into your hair, the other takes home in your lower back. His lips collide with yours; the sweetest honey he's ever had.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, it starts slow and sweet, but after a moment it becomes hungry. You open your mouth, an invitation to him, and he can't help but groan as his tongue meets yours.

He feels one of your hands fist the front of his button up by his stomach, the other palm flat in his chest, where his buttons are open.

Javier can't think of a moment that felt more in peace and right in his life, even if guilt was eating him from inside. He has kissed many people during his life but right now he felt like this was his first kiss ever.

You felt fire inside of you. You had thought about what kissing him would be like a million times since you were a teenager but no imagination would ever come close to how the real thing feels like. You feel his entire body pressed against yours, his warm hand on your lower back drawing you more into him, if it was possible; his desire for you reassured by the feeling of his bulge against you.

When his lips travel from your own lips to your jaw and then your neck, you can't help but let a soft moan out. As soon as it leaves your mouth you feel him slightly biting your pulse point. You pull at the curls on the nape of the back of his neck and your hips can't help to seek some friction to relieve the ache at your core; his thigh now in between your own two.

Just after the first roll of your hips, you both can hear your mother calling from you just from the other side of the front door of the house.

“Mija, are you in here?” she asks while pushing open the front door. You and Javier pull away from each other faster than you´ve ever moved before.

“Oh there you both are ¿Tu padre me dijo que se iba mijo? (your dad told me that you´re leaving son?)” she asks Javier when she´s in front of you; Javi hasn't turned around towards her yet, too afraid since the front of his jeans are tented still. Your mom looks between you two with a confused face.

“Si, ma. (yes, mom) I was just accompanying him to the truck in case there was any car blocking the way, you know, to alert the owner if it was the case” you hope your lie is believable enough. She looks at you now.

“Está ruborizada, mija. Debería alejarse del sol un rato (You're flustered daughter. You should stay away from the sun for a bit)” she tells you with a worried look on her face, always the protective mother.

“I will ma” you answer thanking all the gods above that she doesn't question the situation.

She looks at Javier, who is still not facing her, and looks at you again. She mouths to you, pointing with her head at Javier, “is he okay?”. You take the opportunity and shake your head no, better for her to worry a little about him and think that you´re both here because he's not okay and you´re comforting him, that she thinks that you may be doing what you were actually doing just moments ago.

She nods and then says “well, i'll see you another day mijo, cuídese (take care)” she then returns to the party through the fence door.

You know he's fighting against his own mind again, so you talk before he gets the opportunity to convince himself of anything.

“Hey, we haven't done anything wrong. So, stop that thought” you say quickly, grabbing his face between your hands, making him look at you straight into your eyes.

“Yeah? Are you sure about that, vampirita? Because I feel like an asshole that took advantage of the daughter of the woman that raised him alongside his own mom” he confesses to you with an angry look on his face, but you know his anger is not towards you but to himself.

“Advantage? Again, I'm a consenting adult and that was a consented kiss for sure. If anyone would ever be forced into a kiss it would be you not me” you let his face go when you start saying the last part.

His hands are the ones now framing your face “Cariño, i wanted that kiss the same as you if not more” he makes you look at him into his eyes, so you can read him just like always “Dios (God) I'm going to hell” he tells more to himself than to you “I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we saw each other on that parking lot” you can see only truth and longing in his eyes.

You put your hands over his on your cheeks “Well then that makes two of us” you let out a little chuckle “we could try this… keep it between us until we know it´ll work…” you look at him with hope in your eyes.

Javier can't help but let out a big sigh “every bone in me tells me to not let happen any of this, but i don't think i´ve ever been able to tell you no, vampirita” you can't help your face from forming the biggest smile you´ve ever had, you launch into him and wrap your arms around him, then you kiss him again.

Next chapter

[double-0h-no]

Old Dog, New Tricks

Second to last prompt I want and need to fill. And slowly and surely running out of time, but I'll do this. My prompt fill for "Secondary Villain/Henchman" and for @meadowcastiel prompt, to be revealed at the end. With the tiniest nod to @thestalwartheart gorgeous poem that didn't leave me alone while finihing this up, please go and read it, it's so so gorgeous!

on ao3

Bond has a sudden influx of ideas for gadgets to take out into the field. Henchmen suffer the consequences.

"007, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, nothing in particular. Just wanted to see what R6D is working on these days." 

That stopped Q dead in his tracks and pinched the bridge of his nose in a feeble hope that it would delay the headache that was bound to result from this conversation.  "How often do I have to tell you that, unless you have a very good reason for it, there will not be an exploding pen for you."

Bond had the audacity to scoff, as if he hadn't asked for exactly that, and then continued his lazy stroll past the benches where currently, a few prototypes and blueprints were scattered. "I wouldn't dare come to you for something as trivial as that. Anymore."

"I'm not sure I like where this is going, but do go on."

"Well, I was thinking about how night goggles were actually rather handy, in general, but also very suspicious looking and bulky. And I know you've been tinkering around with your own glasses. Isn't there something to be done?"

Now, that piqued Q's interest, because: "There is, actually. As you've correctly stated, it can't be that only my glasses get tinkered with. There are a lot of things we're trying to do in that department, the easiest and most obvious one being cameras installed into the frame, or something as simple as a GPS tracker. Night vision has so far proven difficult because - Do you know how night goggles usually work?", he interrupted himself.

Bond shook his head, and Q motioned for him to step closer to his own bench, where he quickly opened a new browser window to pull up some graphics. "All right, so our problem currently lies in this."

_//\\_//\\_

Mission transcript for internal use.

H - Handler - Quartermaster

A - Agent - 007

Transcript written by Quartermaster for potential blackmailing purposes among the women of Q branch and Bond.

Transcript begins:

A: "Q?"

H: "Yes, 007?"

A: "Could you develop a repellent?"

H: "A repellent? Whatever for? I think you're quite capable of getting some nobite from a nearby drugstore or pharmacy."

A: "Not for mosquitoes. For all the women approaching me this evening who aren't my target."

H: "..."

A: "Q?"

H: "..."

A: "I take that as a no."

H: "I'll start a survey among the women who frequent Q-branch on which aftershave or perfume they think to be the most repelling. Otherwise, I will keep it to myself that you just asked me for a spray to repel women, but I will save this bit to bring out and show to R and Moneypenny should I feel the need to blackmail you, are we understood?"

_//\\_//\\_

It was the strangest thing, really, and unfortunately, horribly endearing in the way it reminded Q of his cats, at least distantly.

James was lounging on the sofa in his office, limbs akimbo, half asleep, a cooling pad still held to his face, and quite possibly loopy on pain meds.

Q thought it incredible that James appeared to be able to maintain that position without too much discomfort. His own joints probably wouldn't appreciate this kind of treatment, but that might be due to his own lack of exercise in recent years.

"Run that by me again?", he asked, mortified by the amount of affection that his voice held.

"S'mthing to call 'nimals. Useful ones. Like a swarm of bees."

"And how would calling a swarm of bees to your location be helpful?"

James shrugged to the best of his ability. "Don't know. Not to my location. the other guy."

"So let me get this straight, you want to call the bees so that they go after the bad guy."

The Double Oh agent made a sound that could, unfortunately, best be described as a giggle. That was that settled, at least. Certainly high on pain meds, and possibly not half as comfortable in this situation as the meds might make him believe.

"You said bad guy."

Q buried his face in his hands both in exasperation and to hide the redness he felt blooming in his cheeks.

Hopeless cases, the both of them.

_//\\_//\\_

"How small do you think you can make a taser?"

"About lipstick-sized. Of the larger variety, but about that size."

"So not the size of a ring."

"Not unless all you want to be able to stun is a blowfly. Or knock yourself on your arse because I'm not sure how the hell I'd isolate a metal ring properly."

_//\\_//\\_

"You want what?" James - Bond had caught him just on his way back to Q-branch from a meeting that surely could have been an email or three, at most.

"Come on, Q, you can't deny that it would be helpful."

"I mean, yes, except you'd ultimately always impede yourself as well. Plus, it would require you to get out of dodge in the blink of an eye."

James cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "Because that's never been known to happen."

He couldn't help the snort. "Careful with your knees at your age."

"You had nothing to complain about last-"

"Will you be quiet?", Q interjected snidely, but with a big grin on his face. Gosh, that surely had happened. And would happen again, and again. And a few more times after, for sure.

"Now, about my idea?", Bond teased, and Q sighed.

"Why do you always come to me with those things anyway? You very well know by now that R heads R&D, not me. I don't have time for those things anymore because I have meetings now that take a day and an age but could have been done in a fraction of the time, and she-"

James suddenly pulled him around a corner, pressed him up against a wall, and snogged him silly. It wasn't a good kiss, he was smiling way too much for that, but damn if it didn't make him feel good. He was so giddy with it it made him look stupid.

"You're very distracting," Bond murmured, lips only centimetres from his own. "Did I ever tell you that you're incredibly hot when you get worked up and commanding?"

Q bit his tongue not to giggle. "That explains so much, actually." He closed the gap between them and stole another kiss. "Where would you even stash them away?"

It visibly took James a few seconds to catch on to Q's drifting thoughts. "Depends on how small you can make them, but I was thinking about fastening them to the inside of my belt."

"Won't that be uncomfortable?"

James left featherlight kisses on the high point of his cheek, pushing his glasses up with his nose, the hinge of his jaw, corner of his lips, before he answered: "I've been through worse. Plus, I'm sure you'll come up with something."

Another kiss. He felt like a teenager again. It was embarrassing. It was glorious.

"I probably will. Don't think it'll be like that now just because you give decent head."

The indignant sound was almost as sweet as the kisses.

_//\\_//\\_

Mission monitoring was not going any worse than it had been before, and Q was a bit relieved about it.

No matter what he'd told James before, no matter what he'd told himself, deep down he had been worried that separating the mission from his personal feelings would in fact get more difficult now that he had something to lose that went beyond his feelings, but included a person almost sharing his flat and life and feeding his cats. But it was fine. Or at least not any worse than he was used to. Which was to say, it wasn't going great.

He was monitoring Bond, but couldn't communicate with him anymore, which at least was not Bond's fault. 007 was being led down a corridor, henchmen guarding him, Q and R watching him via the security cameras. Their journey ended in a windowless room, and Q and R exchanged a worried glance. They'd seen too many rooms of that variety in their time, though fortunately never from up close.

The henchmen kept their guns trained at Bond while he sat down on the singular chair in the room.

There was no audio, but his lips were moving.

The next thing they saw was the camera whitening out for a brief second, and when the feed returned to normal, black smoke filled the room and was already being filtered out. He could make out the feet of one of the guards, clearly sprawled on the floor, and the other one had probably suffered a similar fate, though Q was already going through the cameras to find Bond again.

"I can't believe it worked," mumbled Riley next to him, and only then did the reality of what had happened set in.

He groaned pitifully. "We will never hear the end of this."

_//\\_//\\_

They did never hear the end of this.

_//\\_//\\_

After this very first success, Riley was actually more open to working with Bond on several of her projects, and the litany of minions of various evil operations who'd fallen victim to increasingly ridiculous contraptions was growing by the week.

It also had the nice side effect that James was... Q didn't have any other words to describe it, but he felt that Bond was doing better. The time he spent in R&D shortened the time he spent on the bench, at least in his perception, and he wasn't as keen to go out in the field anymore between missions. As much as he'd like to think that it was in part his own doing, Q knew that James' work with R played just as big a role.

It was good, all in all. It was very good.

_//\\_//\\_

Q was standing at his desk in his office, double checking a mixup with an order of materials to find the error, when a heavy blanket of Double Oh draped itself over his back.

"What have you come up with this time? Or is it time to leave already?" It usually was one thing or another, these days.

"An EMP."

As much as he tried - not very hard at all, this bit of chasing tails had already robbed him of his last nerve - this one really caught his interest.

_//\\_//\\_

They never managed to figure out a way to make it work. It was fine, too.

_//\\_//\\_

When Q came home that day, exhausted beyond comprehension, James was already home, sitting in his favourite armchair, reading glasses on his nose while he was reading something on his tablet, the Admiral snuggled into his side.

"What do you think of freeze grenades?", he asked in lieu of a greeting.

"Freeze grenades?", Q asked incredulously, still getting out of his shoes. "What are they even supposed to do?" He wandered into the kitchen and scoured it for something left to eat. There was a sandwich sitting out, carefully protected from the cats, and Q picked up the plate with a grateful smile and joined James in the living room.

"Well, they're supposed to emit intense cold upon activation."

"To what end?"

"Depends. Freeze something over to make it brittle. Freeze water over to cross it, though I can imagine that might be difficult. Freeze burns are a bitch, too."

"As opposed to normal grenades, who don#t hurt much at all. What even are you reading there?" He leaned over to catcha glimpse at the screen, and James didn't try to hide it. Q tilted his head. "Is that a batman comic?"

James nodded. "I never read them when I was a kid, but I watched one of the movies on my way back from... I don't even know anymore. It was utterly ridiculous. I wanted to know more."

"Is that where you get all those ridiculous ideas from?"

"You say that as if they haven't worked."

Q's eyes widened in childish wonder. "You have. This is amazing. You're such a closet nerd." He leaned in and pressed an ill-aimed kiss to James' cheek.

James tried his best to appear annoyed at Q's antics, but there was the smile in his eyes that everybody else said was missing when they met him.

"So, what about batarangs?"

[daceydeath]

A Work Proposal (Part 3)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Word Count: 2.6k Genre: Smut Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), vaginal fingering, oral (F receiving),

You had been working with Stray Kids for a while now and after a long day at work turns into a very unexpected but intriguing proposal. Will this change your world or end your career?

The following days you weren't able to spend on the music video shoot you had problems left and right with higher management not wanting to sign off on things until certain meetings were concluded and magazine shoots that had to be reorganized because of schedule clashes. It was a chore but it was your job so normally you wouldn't have minded the chaos, but when you had mentioned to them that you wouldn't be at the next few days they had looked a little disappointed which made you feel guilty. However, the next thing thrown at you was going to make everything much harder for them and you.

"Chan I need to speak with all of you, let me know if the dorms or the studio is better for you and it is going to need to be ASAP" you left the message knowing he would probably panic about what it was about but there was no way you were going into details on the phone, what if his messages got hacked.

Dating scandals were always going to be part of the landscape of K Pop and they always would be but this level of members being involved in one at once was going to be a pain in your butt. Still as stupid as it seemed to have to talk to them about the whole thing after you had signed a contract to fuck them at their leisure seemed bizarre. While you were getting lunch you phone rang and before even looking at it you knew it would be Chan.

"Hi Chan" you sighed sipping at your iced tea.

"What's up? you seemed really down in the message" he asked casually but you could tell his voice was tense.

"Have you seen the latest rumors?" you whispered hoping no one could overhear you.

"No....why?" he seemed genuinely confused by your question.

"Well they aren't great I need to talk to all of you and prep a formal statement for the company by tomorrow so I can come to you all or you can come to me" you replied honestly hoping he wouldn't stress too much.

"Fuck" he muttered and you could tell he was pacing from the sounds around him "Come to us if you can. We should be finished here by 7"

"I'll see you at the dorms then, it's not career ending stuff so don't stress to much but it is important" you tried cheering him up knowing it was useless he stressed about pretty much everything all the time anyway.

You had gotten to their dorm a few minutes before they had and immediately noticed how tired they all were.

"Hi sweetheart" Changbin smiled noticing you waiting for them.

"Did you have to wait long?" Minho asked smiling tiredly.

"No, only a few minutes and I'll make sure this is fast so you can all eat and rest properly" you apologized as you followed them into the building. Gathering them all in the lounge area you took a deep breath before continuing knowing that they were not going to be thrilled about these latest rumors.

So I don't know if you have seen them yet but the dating scandal that's about to blow up isn't great, Chan you have been linked to Lily which I know is stupid since she's so young and its a sibling like thing between you, but Hyunjin and Han have both been accused of dating fans and sending them pretty intense messages" you explained gently noticing how Chan and Changbin's jaws both tightened and Minho looked furious.

"Now I know they aren't true that isn't what I am here to discuss, I've seen the texts and the images and they are pretty graphic so we need to hit back with the big guns" you continued noticing how they all relaxed a little at your words "I'm going to suggest we start a lawsuit against the people who started this bullshit and then also have each of you confirm what wording you want me to use for you denials, again I suggest really strong worded denials to keep the public onside as much as we can"

"You don't think they are true?" Han murmured softly "Like you aren't even going to ask us to explain anything you just know they aren't"

"Yeah I think its all garbage, I'll admit I don't know you as well as your members do, but the texts and photos are borderline pornographic and I know you would never send messages like that" you smiled at his as reassuringly as you could.

"But what if we do send flirty texts and stuff to someone were interested in?" Hyunjin asked frowning slightly.

"Then I know you would send them in a smarter way than this" you smirked trying again to lift the mood, you were going to fix this for them and you were not going to let them stress over it by dragging them in front of higher ups to prove it wasn't them when you knew it wasn't you had already started the whole denial but you wanted their input to make it sound more like a personal statement.

"Minho and I will come in with the two of you when it needs to be explained to the upper management guys" Chan smiled leaning over to squeeze Hyunjin's thigh.

"That's not going to be necessary Chan, I've already done that you wont have to front them" You again smiled while you went back to typing quickly " Ok this is what I have written so far, read through and tell me what you want me to add". Chan took the tablet almost grinning at you, he read it quickly before passing it down to Han and Hyunjin to read.

"Yeah that's good" Hyunjin smiled shakily and Han nodded along.

"You don't need to worry so much Hyunjin" you soothed taking the tablet back from him to place beside you, and take his hand in yours "I'm not going to let them put you on hiatus again, I'm not going to let them put Han on hiatus either it will be fine" you could see the worry in his eyes and it annoyed you that total stranger thought it was alright to cause him pain for no reason. "Now go all of you rest, I will take care of the rest".

You had headed back to the office and had the statement run through legal before making a formal police report about the slander and harassment and then you sent it out to every news outlet, gossip site and social media you could. Hopefully by the time the boys had all woken up it would be a 180 degree flip from the vitriol that was expected to be rained upon them. You texted Chan knowing full well he would not be asleep to let him know you would be late in the next morning since it was already after three in the morning and went home to rest yourself.

You woke the next morning late and started getting ready for you day ending up making yourself coffee in the kitchen when there was a knock at your apartment door. You looked through your peep hole as saw a large bunch of flowers with legs making you instantly smile, opening the door you realized it wasn't just a delivery it was Hyunjin holding the flowers tightly looking a little nervous.

"Hello Hyunjin" you beamed at him as he handed the flowers over wordlessly seemingly lost in his head "Would you like to come in?"

"Thank you" he whispered following you in as you closed the door behind him and took the flowers to the kitchen to find something to put them in.

"These are beautiful Hyunjin, thank you, you really didn't need to get them for me though" you were still smiling as you sniffed their beautiful perfume and gently touching the petals.

"I hoped you would like them" Hyunjin finally said his voice still a little tight "I wanted to say thank you for looking out for us so much, and for believing us, well me" he admitted softly smiling at you.

"I will always look out for you, I would have thought you all knew that by now, at least based on the latest developments" you bit your lip shyly hoping you wouldn't seem to forward bringing it up. Hyunjin grinned at that stepping so close to you that he was almost touching you, raising his hand he softly took your chin between his fingers forcing you to look up at him wetting his lips with his tongue.

"Princess" he breathed against your skin making you shiver under his intense gaze "I want you, can I have you?" you were too caught up in his presence to even answer so his slowly lent in pressing his lips to yours in a delicate kiss before pulling back to look into your eyes again.

"Yes" you whispered your eyes flicking between his eyes and his perfect lips making him smile brilliantly before claiming you lips again in a slow sensual dance. Letting go of your jaw his hand instead came up to cup your face his touch almost too gentle for you to bare, his other hand pulled you against him as he lazily continued to kiss you.

"Where is your room princess? I want you comfortable while I worship you" he sighed leaning his forehead against yours making you melt against him in anticipation. Pulling slightly away you took his hand in your and led him through your apartment to your room where he once again pulled you against him to kiss you once more. "I'm going to make love to you princess for as long as you will let me".

You gasped softly feeling your skin heat up which he took advantage of tipping you head back slightly so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against your slowly, teasingly while he slid his hand down to your hip to hold you against him. Wrapping your arms around his neck you let him take the lead in how fast he wanted to move, feeling warmth pooling inside you with each brush of his plump lips against yours. Agonizingly slowly Hyunjin's hands made their way around your body making you whimper against his lips.

"Oh is my little princess feeling warm under my touch?" he teased sweetly unbuttoning the blouse you had put on for work "How about we rid you of some of these layers then hm?" pushing the fabric from your shoulders and down your arms to fall to the floor.

His unhurried actions gave you time to savor him, the darkening of his eyes, the reddening of his lips, the neediness of his touch it was intoxicating as so different from Chan or Changbin.

"Chan said you feel perfect but that no one has treated you properly" his words were hushed like he knew you were under his spell and didn't want to risk breaking it.

"Yes" you whined quietly as his lips returned to yours his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth to massage your own. He backed you towards your bed carefully to keep you from falling before gently lowering you both to the soft sheets. His hands continued to roam across your skin squeezing and massaging you skin, your own fingers skimming the bottom of his shirt and lightly running your fingers across his abs and the waistband of his pants.

"May I?" he asked sweetly undoing your jeans and dragging them leisurely down your thighs and calves to drop them beside your blouse.

"Can I see you?" you purred looking up at him innocently making his eyes widen before creasing up into little crescent moons.

"Of course princess" he murmured easily slipping his shirt over his head and letting your fingers trace his skin again. He continued to kiss and caress you preparing you for what was to come, kissing his way up and down your body only to miss the areas you wanted him to. You almost cried out when he gingerly began grazing his long beautiful fingers against the crotch of your long soaked underwear.

"Can I begin now princess? Do you think you are ready for me?" he smirked against the skin of your neck lightly mouthing at the skin there.

"Please Hyunjin, my god please" you groaned making him smile as he deftly pushed your underwear aside and began stroking you wet slit, gathering your wetness he circled your clit a few times before dipping just the tip of his finger into your entrance and feeling no resistance, he allowed him self the first whine of pleasure.

"So wet princess, I can't wait you make you come all over my cock but first let me spoil you" He muttered against you lips as he languidly slid two of his fingers into your core tenderly thrusting them and curving them at just the right angle for you to writhe against him in moments. He coaxed your first orgasm from you faster then you expected by pressing his thumb against you clit making you buck against him all the while his mouth devoured your moans and whines until you threw your head back almost screaming his name. He slipped his fingers from you bringing them to his lips to suck clean.

"Delicious, can I continue?" He asked watching you panting wide eyed and you nodded desperately "Good" he grinned lowering himself between your open thighs, taking one in each large hand he looked to your face before agilely letting his tongue go to work on your dripping core, carefully focusing on long slow strokes of your clit and gentle sucks and nibbles with his magnificent lips suckling at you with desire. You could feel your whole body burning as he once again sucked his clit between his lips humming around it as your fingers found their way to his head grazing his scalp with your fingernails and tugging his hair slightly.

"Hyunjin, please, I'm so close" you mewled trying to grind your hips to vigorously into his face but he just growled holding you open further sucking harsher on your clit and finally biting at it is softly as you began to come undone again "Hyunjin...Hyunjin....oh fuck Hyunjin" you called again and again until you felt light headed.

You could hear him chuckle as he wiped his face on the back of his hand bringing himself back up to you lips as he easily slipped inside you, your walls were still quivering with the intensity of your second orgasm but it only spurred him on as he continued the languid pace he has set earlier thrusting into you gently before pulling almost completely out of you again. Unable to contain your quiet moans he smiled down at you resting his weight on his elbows as his hips driving his length into you brushing places you were sure you had never been touched before.

"You are perfect princess, perfect, so tight and wet and perfect for my dick" Hyunjin moaned finally taking his own pleasure from you his hips speeding up as he pounded his cock inside you heard and deeper making your eyes roll back in you head. "Can I come inside you?" he gasped as you squeezed him with your swollen walls.

"Yes, yes, yes" you chanted making him speed up again as he began to lose his tempo as he approached his own climax. You could feel how close he was so you squeezed him again wrenching another perfect groan from him.

"Fuck princess" he gasped as he spilled his seed inside you leaving you both a panting and sweaty mess. Resting his forehead against yours he sweetly pecked the tip of your nose.

"I forgot to mention Chan asked for you to have the day off so you aren't going anywhere princess" He grinned lazily kissing you again.

A/N: Thank you for all the support and likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated you lovely people you xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @symptoms-of-moonlight, @septicrebel, @ayoitschannie, @krishatumblernow, @tangerminie, @elizalabs3, @armystay89, @septemberkisses,

[falena-kingscholar]

Welcome to Sunset Savanna!

The king is a very busy man with lots to attend to, so I'll be taking care of all the administrative stuff so you all can have your fun!

My name is V, you can call me the royal advisor if you really wanted, and I'm here to keep everything running smoothly, keep this blog a safe place, and make sure everyone is having fun. In order to do that, of course, there have to be rules, so let me make this short and sweet as I can for you!

Bigots, terfs, racists, p*dos, you're all on the DNI list. I will block you if you come on my blog with the intention to harm someone else, or openly admit these values.

Being an advisor means I've got plenty on my plate beyond this blog. There is a real person running all this, with my own life to live. Please be patient and understanding.

Have fun!! If I or someone else is making you uncomfortable, feel free to let me know so I can set things right.

Limit your NSFW. I don't mind if you're thirsty to a certain extent, and I'm fine with cursing. Keep in mind that the RP community on Tumblr is diverse both in gender + sexuality, but also in age and I would like to keep this page friendly to everyone.

OCs, MCs and other Canon characters are welcome to interact. Just as a bit of a heads up, I'm not super comfortable shipping Falena with anyone besides his wife - but if you read below you'll see why that's a little rocky too.

This is a HEADCANON version of Falena. Below is a short description of how I interpret him and a few of his relationships. This is to ensure I enjoy the character I'm playing. This does not mean I'm not open to feedback or constructive criticism, just be respectful please.

Get To Know The King

He's fairly jovial and upbeat most of the time

He's really bad about just listening to problems - he likes to solve them

He and his wife are in a bit of weird spot - it's because he's still a closeted gay and it's impacted their marriage. He loves her still, just more platonically than romantically. They agreed to have a kid in hopes of repairing the rift they were both feeling, and it kind of worked, but he still really needs to be honest about his feelings Soon

Cheka is the one person he loves more than ANYONE and often comes across as a bit of an overbearing dad he's totally not just adding on to loving Cheka with all the love he wishes his brother would accept

The age gap between him and Leona? GUESS WHAT, I, THE PERSON BEHIND THE SCREEN HAVE THAT SAME AGE GAP WITH MY SISTERS (twins) (however we are still close and besties so I know. the Opposite of what I did is what I need to do for Falena sldkjfhlskdjf /hj)

That being said, Falena has a strained relationship with Leona that he has only recently come to notice now that Leona isn't around as often. He really wants to make amends, but feels like a complete stranger to his own brother and it shows in his interactions - he still kind of treats Leona like he's 6-13 because that's the Leona he remembers - the one who was still excited to see him when he came home from RSA. It wasn't until Falena was 19 that he noticed a bit of a rift. They started getting closer, then when Falena was 21 he was coronated and got married to his betrothed as his father fell ill.

Thank you for reading all of that! All that's left is to give credit where it's due.

The beautiful portrait done of his Royal Highness used as the face of this page, (with permission), was done by none other than @/lemonwerewolf here.

Dividers were made by @/saradika-graphics, here.

If the way I write seems familiar to you, you might recognize me from @twistedwonderlandshenanigans , my HC's and general writing blog for twst. (I follow from @/symphonicmetal101 though)

Thank you again, the King and I hope you enjoy your stay here,

In Sunset Savanna

[viking-raider]

Fright Night *Halloween Fic*

Summary: It's Halloween! You and Henry take to the great city of London, as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf, to enjoy some of its Tricks and Treats. Before letting the night enchant you.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count:

Warning: M - Cotton Candy Fluff, Dressing Up, Alcohol Use, Jump Scares, Stupid/Chessy Jokes, (I'm so sorry!) Flirting, Haunted House, Teasing, Protective!Henry, SMUT - Unprotected sex, (wrap it, before you tap it!) Oral: F-Receiving, Biting, Light Role Play, Body Fluids, Hand Job

Inspiration: It's Halloween! Let the mood inspire you!

Author’s Note: There is a possibility of future parts! I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!

“It's Fright Night, babe!” Henry cheered, suddenly coming up behind you and grabbing your sides, scaring the living daylights out of you.

“Jesus Alive!” You yelped, body jerking, before you spun around and started a barrage of slaps to Henry's chest. “Would you quit doing that!” You snapped, even though a smirk was spreading across your face.

“Doing what, my dear?” Henry grinned, scrunching up his muscular upper body against your assault, while chuckling at you, mischievously.

“You've been jump scaring me every day, since the bloody first of October!” You replied, shaking your head at him and turning back around to the mirror. “You messed up my makeup too!”

“Babe, it's Halloween, your makeup isn't supposed to be perfect!” He said, watching you through the mirror.

“Speak for yourself, Wolf-Boy.” You giggled at him, checking him out.

Henry was dressed up as a sort of biker, Big Bad Wolf. He was rather dedicated to this costume as well! Having grown his beard out for it and everything. He had a pair of realistic wolf ears molded over his own, a painted-on wolf nose and a pair of red and black, Halloween contacts. He had on his leather biker jacket.

You would easily admit though, Henry looked pretty badass and spooky.

“I'd rather bite you, Little Red.” Henry purred, snaking his arms around your waist and playfully nibbling on your exposed neck.

“Now now, naughty Wolf.” You cooed, turning your head and kissing his temple, leaving a pair of red lips behind.

“I don't know if I'll be able to make it through a night out with you looking like this.” He said, stepping back to look you over in your dark Red Riding Hood costume.

He loved the black, silk and floral stockings that went all the way up above your mid-thigh, felt a tingle in the base of his spine that wanted to make love to you, with only you in those stockings. You smirked at him, fixing and finishing your makeup, then picked up your cape.

“Would you like some help with that?” Henry asked, holding his hand out.

“I don't know.” You frowned at him. “My grandma-ma told me not to trust big, bad wolves.” You said, batting your eyes at him.

“Hm.” He hummed back, stepping closer to you and lowering his spooky eyes, causing a little chill to race down your back. “What a smart woman, your grandma-ma is. But worry not, Little Red, I'll keep my biting to a minimum.”

“Well,” You smirked, resting your hand on the black, v-neck he was wearing under his jacket. “At least until we get home.” You purred, with a wink.

Henry threw his head back and let out a loud howl, which caused Kal to start barking elsewhere in the house and you to giggle. Taking your cape, Henry helped carefully tie it over your shoulders, then planted a delicate kiss on your lips.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked, pulling back.

“I am, are you?” You nodded, giving yourself a once over in the mirror.

“Yes, ma'am.” Henry nodded, zipping his leather jacket halfway.

“Wait, Mr. Big Bad!” You called out, as Henry stepped out of the bathroom. “You still got kisses on your face.” You giggled at him, grabbing a makeup wipe to remove it.

“No, leave it.” He protested it, turning his head away from the wipe. “This Big Bad Wolf wants the world to know he's been awoo'd by his Little Red Riding Hood.” He chuckled, grinning at you impishly.

“What a silly Wolf you are!” You chuckled back, shaking your head and tossing the wipe away. “Aren't you supposed to have fangs?” You asked, following him out of the master bathroom and into the bedroom.

“Yeah, I was just waiting to put them in.” Henry replied, picking up a small, U-shaped case off his nightstand. “The creative department for the Witcher helped me out with these.” He smirked at you, opening the case to show you the custom werewolf fangs inside.

“Oh, those look so wicked, Puppy.” You nodded, seriously impressed with the top set of fangs.

“Mmhm.” He hummed, happy with them as well. “So, where do you want to go first?” He asked, taking one of the fangs out and started putting it in.

“I don't know.” You replied, biting your lip and glancing down at your shiny flats. “You know more about the London Halloweens than I do.” You pointed it out to him.

This was your and Henry's second Halloween as a couple. Your first Halloween had been spent at an amazing party thrown by one of Henry's friends, where the two of you had gone as Geralt and Yennefer. This year, even with several party invites, you and Henry decided to spend Halloween together and hit the town. But you knew almost nothing about what London did for Halloween events, other than the typical haunted houses and trick or treating.

Getting the last fang in, Henry grinned at you, and you smirked back, he looked absolutely amazing as the biker Big Bad Wolf. “I'm more than sure I can find several things to keep our adrenaline pumping and our Halloween spirit high.”

“Lead the way then, Big Bad!” You said, waving your hand towards the door.

Winking at you, Henry led the way downstairs, he grabbed your coat and held it open, while you put it on, then grabbed the car keys. “Kal, guard the house from tricksters!” He called out to the Akita, pulling open the door and ushering you out first.

Finding parking in downtown London, You and Henry make your way towards the Thames. You could see the London Eye looming in the darkness on the river's edge. You wondered, if the Eye was doing some sort of late night Halloween rides, that Henry was taking you on. Letting you see the City in all its sparkling glory on All Hallows Eve. But as you both turned the corner, you found a decent size line and looked up at Henry, with a cocked brow.

He grinned, wolfish, and squeezed your hand.

Trusting him, you got into line, and thankfully Henry looked different enough with his costume and everyone being more interested in what was at the head of the line, to take a closer look at the fact a celebrity was waiting among them. Enabling you and Henry to enjoy the wait undisturbed by would-be fans, asking for photos and autographs. You were curious about what your boyfriend was getting you into though. Everyone in line seemed super excited about what it was. The two women in front of you, dressed up in really wicked SteamPunk outfits were chatting excitedly with each other.

“It's going to be amazing; I can't wait for us to get down there.” One of them said, adjusting her top hat.

“Down there?” You echoed her words but looked up at Henry.

“Oh yeah, down into the bowls of London.” He said, making his voice sound spooky and leaned close to you. “Where the shadiest and scariest Londoners go.” He whispered, holding your gaze for a long moment before jerking forward. “Boo!” He wailed, grabbing you by the arms, and laughing as you yelped.

“You're so easy to scare, babe.” He smirked, pulling you in towards him, winking at the two ladies as they looked back and chuckled at the two of you.

“I hate you!” You huffed, punching him in the chest as he hugged his arms around you.

Henry chuckled again, lips ghosting across your forehead as he held you. “I know.” He replied, swaying side to side, before moving you both forward with the line.

Getting to the head of the line, you noticed a ghoulish black and red sign above a set of glass doors, The London Dungeon. It piqued your interest in stepping through the doors, finding the inside heavily decorated for Halloween. Henry paid for your entrance and the two of you were ushered, by a guide, to a lift with a small group of others. The lift took you deep underneath the building and out into a dark coordinator that was a blast from the past.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the London Dungeon!” The guide called out from the head of the group.

There were loud sounds from all-round, ominous dongs, the rumbles of what sounded like distant thunder and screams, along with bright flashes of light. The guide led the way through the dark hallway that was lined with all sorts of things. Buildings from medieval London, gently swaying clotheslines hung high above your heads, things you couldn't quite make out strung along the walls and over darkened doorways and windows.

Through one window, a woman in old clothing and a cloth cap, face painted to make her look much older than she was and several warts, jumped out and feigned reaching for your group, making many of you scream and jump in the air. You nearly climbed up Henry as you grabbed onto him, gasping with fright. While he just jerked with surprise and laughed, smiling and shaking his head as the woman retreated back into her dark hovel.

“I think my heart leapt out of my chest back there.” You panted; arms tightly hugged around Henry's as you urgently panned around for the next scare.

“It's still there, babe.” Henry chuckled, threading his fingers through yours. “I can feel it hammering against my arm.”

The group paused before an open building. It looked menacing, shelves lining the walls with various sized bottles, a skeleton hung from the ceiling on one side. But it was the table on the raised platform that drew everyone's attention. Laying under a soiled and grungy sheet, was the outline of a body. Then, from a door, came another woman, but she didn't jump scare the group like the first one, she was dressed in a bloody smock and her hair was covered in a bandanna, while holding a Plague Mask on a long stick.

“They say this beak is to help prevent the plague!” She said in a high-pitched voice, pointing to the long leather nose attached to the mask. “They put herbs and spices in the end to keep you from getting infections, like the Plague.” She grinned at the crowd, leaning close over the barrier fence that separated them.

“At least, that's what they say!” She cackled, pulling back and running off to put the mask up.

“Now, I'm one of the last physicians here in London fighting the infection!” The live actor declared, hopping up onto the stage with the autopsy table and body. “And this poor fellow is one of my patients! He went mad from the pain in his brain! Jumped out the third story window.” She said dramatically, pressing her fingertips into her temples and leaning over the covered body.

“And splat!”

Looking over the group and grinning sinister, she giggled. “What a shame.”

Then, slowly peeled the sheet back.

“Now! It's very important to know what Plague he died of, the Bubonic or Septicemic. To do that, I must first cut a hole in his chest!” She pulled a knife from under the table that was rather overkill and cut through his chest, little spurts of blood coming out as she did, before delving her arm inside.

“Oh, my dears, the smell is really quite awful now!” She groaned, face pinched, and fanned the air with her free hand, all while struggling with something inside the body. “It's putrid and quite squishy in there.” She gagged and grimaced, before finally pulling something long, bloody and wriggling out. “Hm, I wonder what this is for?” She hummed, waving it around, then tossed it behind her, filling the room with a wet splat.

“Good lord.” You gulped, even though you knew it was an act and all a show, your stomach still churned.

Her hand disappeared again inside the man's chest. “Ah-ha! The heart!” She beamed, rubbing it against her cheek, smearing blood all over the side of her face. “Still warm too!” She cackled, setting it between the man's feet.

“We'll save that for later.” She said, winking at the crowd, who laughed, Ooo-ed or gagged.

You noticed faint noise, like a low groaning, that was steadily starting to get louder the longer the autopsy went on. The small hairs on the back of your neck and along your arms started to stand up. Suspense building inside of you as you waited for someone to jump out of the darkness or something to fall from the ceiling above. You clutched Henry's arm, while he continued to watch the performance, in thralled by the historical terror and gore going on.

The plague doctor stepped away from the body, squinting into the darkness. “What's that noise? Do any of you hear--” She started to ask, before a blood curdling scream filled the air and the body on the table sprang up into a sitting position.

Everyone cried out and the plague doctor screeched at the top of her lungs, arms flying up in the air, as she bolted past everyone and vanished into the darkness, her screams fading away.

“You all right, babe?” Henry asked, smirking at you, feeling you shiver against him.

“I'm fine.” You replied, trying to put on a brave face.

“Mmhm.” He nodded, kissing your forehead.

You and Henry finished the London Dungeon, and even though you had been scared out of your wits more times than not and it was a good thing Henry was wearing a leather jacket, protecting his arm from being maimed by your nails as you clutched at him. You had actually loved the tour, learning about the history, dark as it was.

“Where to now, Big Bad?” You asked, looping your arm with Henry's as you strolled along the river.

“Hm.” Henry replied, taking a deep breath of the evening air coming off the Thames. “Are you hungry? We could go for a nibble.”

“I do say, I could go for a nibble and something to drink.” You nodded, resting your shoulder against his, and smiled up at him.

“Then, let's find somewhere spooky to satisfy ourselves!”

“Please, Hen, no more scares.” You begged him, as you headed back towards the car.

Henry chuckled and squeezed your hand. “Oh, all right. I suppose you've had enough for one night.” He conceded, turning the corner with you, only to have two teenagers jump out, scaring you enough to hide behind him with a scream.

“Very funny, gents.” He chuckled, but his face gave away how unamused he actually was.

The kids tore off down the street, laughing their heads off, while you worked on swallowing your heart back down into your chest. “It's a good thing I love Halloween so much.” You said, coming out from behind Henry.

“Only Halloween?” He asked, giving you a side glance, as you made it back to the car.

“I love you, three-hundred and sixty-five days out of the year, Henry.” You replied, beaming at him, as you buckled your seatbelt. “I don't need a holiday to love you even more. I wouldn't even know if there's anything in the multiverse that could make me love you more.”

“I could—TURN YOU!” Henry proclaimed, suddenly lunging across the console to attack your neck.

You howled with laughter, feigning trying to fight him off, pressed between your seat and door. Henry nibbled on your neck and tugged on your earlobe. “Down, boy! Down!” You wheezed, still giggling hysterically, but Henry kept up his assault, even licking up the side of your neck and making you squirm.

“Easy.” You cooed, turning to your Kal soothing tactic, gently petting Henry's hair and rubbing one of his earlobes. “Who's a good werewolf, huh?” You smirked, hearing him start to pant in your ear and nuzzle the side of your face. “You are!” You said, voice slightly high pitched.

“Yes, you're Little Red's favorite wolfie.”

“I damn well better be!” Henry huffed, pulling back slightly, to look you in the face.

“You are, as long as you don't tell Kal.” You chuckled, kissing him on the lips. “He thinks it's him, and I can't bear the thought of him knowing otherwise.”

“I see how it is.” He smirked, straightening up in his seat. “You're playing both of us. Calling whoever is with you the good boy.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot.

“And what would be my reward in this scenario?” You chuckled, lifting an interested brow at him, wanting to know where his thinking was going.

“All the perks of Kal and I being good boys.” He replied, checking the street for any trick or treaters.

“Ah, like Kal keeping all his toys in his bed and you remembering to put the lid back on the milk container.” You pointed out, shooting him a playful look.

“Something like that.” Henry blushed, reaching out to take your hand and resting it on his thigh.

“So, where are we going for our nibble?” You asked, relaxing and peeking out the window, admiring all the amazing Halloween decorations that dotted the businesses and parks.

“There's a cute pub in Leadenhall Market that really goes all out for Halloween.” He explained to you. “They do different themes each year. The last time I was there, they did Harry Potter. Which was fitting, since one of the movies had just come out that year. They serve great drinks and appetizers, so I figured we'd go there, then walk around the Market. Snag some of the treats from the pop-up stalls.”

“That sounds really lovely.”

The pub was alive with people, when you and Henry arrived, the murmur of voices, laughter and music. As you entered the Nightmare Before Christmas themed establishment, a woman dressed as a cat was passing by with this strobing and smokey drink in her hand, drawing your eye, instantly.

“Oh my god, what is that?” You blurted out, pointing to her drink, and slightly startling her.

She smiled at you and held it up. “It's called, A Witch's Brew.” She explained, taking a draw from a black and white silly straw with a witch's hat, then continued on.

“I want one of those!” You declared, looking up at Henry, eyes wide.

Henry laughed and nodded. “All right, one Witch's Brew coming up! Why don't you go find us somewhere to sit, while I get it and something to eat.” He suggested, turning his head towards the crowded bar counter.

You weaved your way through the packed pub, looking for an open table, making a couple comments to others on their costumes, before finally finding a corner booth. You took your phone out of your jacket pocket, while waiting for Henry to return, and snapped a couple selfies of yourself and several of the pub, posting them on your Instagram, then answered texts you had from family and friends.

“One Witch's Brew for Little Red Riding Hood.” Henry's voice called over all the noise, as he made it over to you, setting your drink down on the table.

“What do you have there?” You asked, motioning to the other glass in his hand.

“This is a Poisoned Apple Cider.” He said, sitting beside you with a glass of red and luster-y liquid. “Non-alcoholic, of course! Since I'm the designated Werewolf for the night.”

“Ha-ha-ha.” You chuckled, slapping him on the thigh, then looked at your drink, blinking and smoking, with purple alcohol in a stemless wine glass. “Did you manage to figure out what's in this?” You asked, picking it up.

“Um, yeah.” He nodded, taking a quick drink of his cider. “Vodka, blue curacao, grenadine and Sprite.” He rattled off the list the bartender had given him. “How is it?” He asked, watching you try it.

“It's pretty darn good.” You nodded with approval. “Did you manage food?”

“I ordered something sinister.” He replied, giving you an impish look.

“Oh dear, Cavill. What have you ordered for us?”

Henry leaned in close to you. “Mummy fingers and blood.” He whispered, before letting out an evil laugh.

“What would a Mummy finger count as, beef jerky?” You teased, taking another draw off your curly straw. “Well, I guess that's what I get when I let a werewolf order for me. Nothing, but bones to gnaw.”

At that, Henry let out a deep belly laugh, eyes sparkling in the orange and purple lights hung around the pub. “I keep forgetting you haven't turned yet.”

“You only just bit me, big boy.” You said, rubbing his chest. “These things take time; I know it's your second try after all.”

“Second?” He mumbled around the rim of his glass.

“Well, you did try it with my grandma-ma, and failed.” You deadpanned, stirring the ice in your drink with your straw.

Henry choked on his drink, setting it on the table, and started coughing. Pounding on his chest to try and recover. You gently pat him on the back, concern on your face, until you saw he was all right, feeling bad to a degree.

“My apologies, Wolf. I'll put less silver in my jokes next time.” You grinned, kissing his cheek, as a server made her way over with your plate of appetizers. “Thank you.” You nodded at her and discovered Henry's Mummy's Finger were Mozzarella sticks made to look like Mummy fingers and the blood was marinara sauce. “Oh, these are so cute, and look tasty!” You cooed, picking up the warm stick, smirking at it, before dipping it in the sauce and taking a bite.

“That they do, my love.” Henry agreed, digging in himself. “You got sauce on your lip.” He pointed out to the small spot at the corner, leaning in.

“Don't you dare, lick it off.” You warned him, in a low voice, smirking.

“My mother taught me manners.” He replied, calmly, before kissing the corner of your mouth for a moment, and when he pulled away, the spot was gone.

You let out a shaky breath and shifted in your seat, picked up your drink and took several sips of it, ignoring the straw, then cleared your throat. All the while, Henry smugly ate beside you, like he didn't know what he had done wasn't driving you wild.

“You all done, Little Red?” Henry asked, finishing his cider.

“Yep!” You nodded, wiping your mouth.

“Cool. Let's hit the Market and get some treats.” He said, standing up and waited for you to do the same, dropped a tip on the table, then walked out with you. “Oh, that cool air feels good.” He commented, unzipping his jacket all the way.

“I'm the one that had alcohol, but you're warm.” You giggled, shaking your head at him. “Or is it all that werewolf hair? Do I need to get you to a groomer?”

“Ssh-shh-ut up.” Henry chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in against his side. “Let's just get some sweets.” He said, kissing your temple and leading the way into the main thoroughfare of the Market.

Scents greeted your nose, making you moan, as you entered the hustle and bustle. Freshly popped popcorn, warm and sticky, candied apples, hot out of the oven biscuits, the whirl of candy floss machines, spinning all sorts of fluffy, brightly colored clouds. The treats were just too many to account for and every time you turned your head, you found another treat you needed to get your hands on.

Henry's eyes weren't on the confections, they were on you, seeing the lights in your eyes, the wonder and the short circuit of not knowing where to start or what to try first. “How about candy floss?” He suggested, motioning over to the station, where a woman was walking away with a fluffy pink cloud on a stick.

“That sounds good.” You nodded, heading over with him.

“Two, please.” Henry said, digging into his back pocket for his wallet.

Nodding, the vendor filled the machine, and you watched excitedly as the thin webs started to whirlwind out of the holes, filling the basin. You knew it was just heated up sugar, but watching it happen in front of you was so magical. Dipping a stick in, the worker collected the thready goodness into a puffy pillow, then held it out to you.

“Thank you.” You smiled, taking it from him.

Henry paid and took his own, before the two of you moved on, picking contently at your treat and checking everything out. You picked up a bag of different biscuits, shaped like pumpkins, witches and skulls. Henry grabbed a box of delicious and gooey brownies and a pair of candied apples, drizzled with white and milk chocolate, then wrapped in Halloween cellophane.

“What do you have there?” He asked, as you came back to him.

“Cake-pops!” You smiled, holding a cloth tote with a smiling pumpkin on it.

“Nummy.” He cooed, licking his lips.

“But there's one thing.” You said, moving really close to him.

“I'm listening, Red.” Henry replied, seeing a familiar look in your eyes.

“I wanna go home, Wolf.” You whispered, ignoring all the people moving to step around you and Henry. “And have our own trick or treat.”

A smirk twitched at the corners of Henry's lips. “I couldn't think of a more appropriate way to end the night, Red.” He winked, then offered to take your tote of cake-pops.

“Nope, these are mine.” You shook your head. “Last time I trusted you with cake-pops, I got one bite and only saw the sticks to the other ones.”

“You know cake is my weakness.” Henry chuckled, as the pair of you navigated your way back to the car.

“Just like silver.” You quipped, taking out one of the eyeball cake-pops and started nibbling on it.

The drive home had started off light, nibbling on the treats you had bought at the Market, but they were quickly forgotten, as the mood you had only became more infectious. Amplified by the alcohol and sugar in your veins and the mysterious atmosphere of Halloween. Henry was by far just as aroused as you were, having you touch him. But he was frustrated, when you finally got home, since he couldn't touch you like he wanted, having to drive.

He was literally like a werewolf, when the two of you were finally out of the car and in the driveway, abandoning the containers of treats for each other. Henry swiped you up off your feet as soon as the door was open, making you yelp with surprise and giggle, seeing the rabid look in his eyes, even through the contacts. He kicked the door closed and hauled you upstairs, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss along the way. Kal barked at you from the bottom of the stairs but went ignored.

“My, my, what big eyes you have.” You cooed, panting as you broke the kiss, making it to the bedroom.

“All the better to feast on you with.” Henry replied, pushing your jacket off your shoulders and tossing it aside, looking you over in your costume, then growled in his throat. “And feast on you, I will.” He purred, untying your cape and letting it drift to the floor behind you. “There's never been a more beautiful Red Riding Hood.” He said, leaning in to start kissing your shoulder and neck, while his hands moved over your hips and kneaded your sides, then disappeared behind your back, to slowly unhook the back of your dress.

Shivering, your hands found the front of Henry's jeans, impatiently tugging them open and shoving your hand inside of his boxer briefs, finding what you knew as already there. His rock-hard shaft, that you'd stroked into existence on the car ride home. Henry let out a shuttered growl in your ear, feeling your hand wrap around his cock, the tips of his wolf fangs grazing your neck made you gulp and whimper, worried for a moment that he might actually bite down.

“Henry.” You whispered, tipping your head back to look at him, the concern of his fangs in your eyes.

“I should take them out.” He mumbled, blinking a couple times, before tugging them loose and tossing them on his nightstand. “I'll turn you next year.” He smirked, helping you out of your dress.

“Leave the stockings on.”

You giggled. “As you wish, Wolf.” You smirked, kicking out of your shoes. “But you have to keep the rest of your werewolf stuff on.”

“I'm taking these out.” He said, taking out the contacts. “They're starting to make my eyes itch.”

“Fair.” You smiled, then turned and crawled up to the head of the bed. “Come and get me, my Big Bad Wolf.” You beckoned, crooking a finger at him.

Henry let out a loud howl and scrambled out of the rest of his clothing, dashed over the bed and between your stocking-clad legs, playfully snapping at you. You giggled and pretended to be terrified. Henry actually did bite your neck this time, making loud growling noises at the same time. You rubbed your hands over Henry, squeezing his nape and lightly dragging your nails down his back, hissing as one of his rough love bites landed near your throat.

“My, what sharp claws you have.” He rumbled, placing chaste kisses on his artwork of bites on your neck and shoulder.

“All the better to mark you with.” You cooed, turning your head to tug on his earlobe.

“Mmm, Big Bad loves the sound of that.” Henry hummed, turning his head to look at you, the side of his nose lightly touching yours, his eyes giving you a devilish smirk. “I want to go trick or treating.” He said, kissing you and started working his way down.

“Oh, two treats right away.”

Henry's hand cupped one of your breasts, gently kneading, and rubbing his thumb over your hardened nub, sending bolts of pleasure through your body. Mouth closing around your other breast, as your back arched off the bed and eyes fluttered shut with a soft moan. His hot, velvety tongue glided over the little bud of flesh, applying the slightest amount of suction. The pooling heat between your legs only intensified, the more Henry toyed with you. You hooked one of your legs over his waist and rubbed up against him, letting him feel how slick you were.

Getting the hint, Henry moved on, nibbling down between the valley of your breasts, the muscles under your skin dancing as his teeth grazed ticklish spots. He smirked, his face leveling between your legs, nuzzling the inside of your thigh, your leg resting on his shoulder. Licking his lips, he dipped his head, your scent filling his nose, as his tongue flicked out to taste your wet folds. A hum vibrating in his throat and a smirk spread across his lips, your flavor taking over his tastebuds.

“So much better than Halloween candy.” He purred, warm breath wafting over your glistening womanhood.

“Oh yeah.” You moaned, carding your fingers through his hair. “Even cake-pops?” You teased, squeezing his shoulder.

Henry buried his face between your legs again, splitting your folds with his tongue, drawing a surprised gasp out of you, and collected your juices, savoring it for a long moment, slowly nodding as he did. You giggled and melted again, pressing your palm to the headboard and tangling your fingers into the back of his hair. Henry's mouth cupped you, the tip of his tongue circled your clit, drawing maddening designs that had your legs twitching and toes curling in those black, floral stockings. Your chest heaved, as a light sheen of sweat broke out over your body, whimpering at the invasion of Henry's tongue inside your core.

“W-wolf!” You mewled, bucking against his lips, thighs hugging around his head and feeling the burn of his bearded cheeks. “Henry!” You cried out, slamming your palm against the headboard, eyes rolling into the back of your head, feeling your orgasm build.

Your legs grew numb and heavy, while goosebumps formed over your damp and fevered skin. A bubble of moans and whimpers flowed past your slightly parted lips. Henry's mouth worked your pussy greedily, lapping at the heady slick that flooded from you, grunting like a starved man satisfying his appetite. The seedling of your orgasm was almost in full blossom, when Henry came up for air, lips glossy with your juices and spread with a grin.

“No! What are you doing?” You whined, as he moved up your body, instead of finishing his task. “Hen-'' You gasped, his heavy fingers finding your swollen and charged clit, sending an electrical charge, like Zeus's lightning bolt, shooting up your spine.

“So impatient, Little Red.” He husked, watching your face through hooded and stormy-blue eyes. “This Big Bad Wolf wants to savor his meal.” He smirked, a deep laugh rumbling in his flushed chest, sweat drenched curls stamped to his forehead.

His thick digits scissored as they stroked the length of your sleek privates, intentionally avoiding the stimulation you truly wanted, him buried to the root inside of you. Henry sealed his lips over yours, delving his tongue deep into your mouth, filling your senses with the mixed taste of your arousal and his love. All the while, he still fingered you, working you into a whirlwind orgasm that left you dizzy, limp and sighing, softly.

“Beautiful, Little Red.” He cooed, pressing a kiss between your brows and wrapping his arms around you, rolling over until you laid, heavily, on top of him, face nuzzled into his neck.

You laid there with him for a moment, existing in a teeter-totter of euphoria and sleep, the scent of Henry's hot and sweaty skin filling your nose. But you found balance and pushed yourself up, palms pressed to his muscular chest, as you sat and positioned yourself. Rubbing your sticky womanhood on his hard, throbbing length, feeling his growl against your hands. You planted your knees on the bed, to either side of Henry, to steady yourself, then took him in one of your hands, fisting him. Every ridge and vein reacted to your touch, the velvety skin hot, like lava in your palm. Thick and lustrous pearls of come dripped from his tip and over your fingers, acting as a lubricant.

Henry's hands caressed your thighs and tracing the floral pattern of your stockings, while pushing up into your fist. His body glowed, in a warm flush, the werewolf makeup on his face began to lose its definition with each new bead of sweat. Working him for a few moments more, you straightened up and aligned yourself over Henry's dripping tip. Looking directing into Henry's eyes, you sank onto his shaft, sighing softly as it started to fill you. Henry wiggled his hips, helping you adjust to his size and move ever deeper inside of your core, humming softly.

Reaching out, Henry rested his hands on the back of your arms and pulled you down onto his chest, then turned to lay you both on your sides.

“Henry.” You sighed, hooking your leg over his hip and shifting him deeper in you.

He let out a breathy chuckle, nuzzling his face close to yours, to capture your lips in a slow, but sensual kiss. Rocking together, Henry's hand caressed the length of your back and pulling your leg higher, while still kissing you. Your fingers played with his curls, twisting them around your fingers or tugging them straight, only to have the downy strands bounce back to true.

You pressed your chest against Henry's, and felt his pounding heart, its strong rhythm matching your own. As if, a war drum was being played between your bodies. Breaking the kiss, you tucked your head beneath his, clinging onto him, like a second skin. Soft sounds escaped both of you, as the strength of Henry's movements grew stronger, caught in the primal frenzy of his building climax. Hugging yourself tighter against Henry's smoldering body, you rode every thrust he made, moaning sonorously into his chest.

“Babe.” Henry crooned, fingers curling in the hair at your nape, the sensation of your walls constricting around him, driving a shiver up his back, and milking him over the edge, he buried himself deep and took you with him.

Laying there, still linked and catching your breath, you placed soft kisses all over his chest, while stroking the small of his back and he nosed your hair, cradling you close. You tilted your head back, pressing your lips to the underside of his jaw.

“Hey.” You wheezed, staring up at him.

“Hm?” He hummed back, angling his head down to look you in the face, smiling softly and rubbing noses with you.

An impish look crossed your face. “Aahh-wooo!” You giggled, howling loudly.

“I knew I'd turn you!” Henry roared, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight.

[pink-tonic]

New Week and a New Nurse📰

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Warnings: Mentions of a minor injury, but nothing too graphic

Additional Note: I just want to say thank you all who have supported my story. Whether it's leaving notes, reposts, messages, or follows. I really appreciate it 🩷🩷 We are only around halfway through the story, so I hope you stick around for the future rivals. But thank you again for the support, I appreciate it very much ◝(���ᵕᵔ)◜

It's Monday, and I'm walking with Taeko and Taro to school. It's a very calm morning, and that's how I like it. The breeze is soft, and the light from the sun is welcoming. The weather is perfect. As we walk down the road, I can see familiar students walking to school. The area around me is filled with their chatter, and it's just as perfect as the weather. It's not too loud or too quiet. It's just perfect.

I'm not paying attention to what Taeko and Taro are talking about since I'm in my own world.

That is until I hear a noise.

"Are you okay, Taeko?" Taro asks his older sister.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts, and I look to the side, and I see Taeko on the ground. Taro goes over to her and helps her up.

"Yeah, but it hurts," she answers back once she stands up, "That's never happened to me..."

I look at her, but her knees catch my attention. Both of her knees are scraped.

"Teako, your knees are scraped," I point out as I walk over to her, "Let's head to the school and go to the nurse's office."

Teako looks down at her knees, and she winces at the sight of her knees.

"Yeah, let's hurry up and go."

We walk alongside Taeko, but at a slower speed since we don't want her to feel more pain.

It only takes a few minutes to get to the school, and we rush to the nurse's office, not bothering to switch out our shoes.

I open up the door for Taeko and Taro, and they both walk in.

"Miss Kankoshi, can you help us out?" I call out to the nurse as I close the door to the infirmary.

"Oh! Miss Kankoshi isn't here today," an unfamiliar voice reveals to us.

I step further into the infirmary, and on the other side of the room, I can see a man. I can see that he is cleaning something up, and broken glass is scattered around the ground.

I approach the man, while Taro goes over to a bed and helps Taeko sit down.

"Where's Miss Kankoshi?" I ask the unfamiliar man.

"Oh! She had a family emergency to take care of, so I'm the temporary nurse until she comes back. I'm Mr. Kina. It's nice to meet you!"

The man gets up from the ground and tosses the napkins to the side. I can now get a better view of him. He is wearing the normal white nurse uniform, he has light pink hair, kind violet eyes, and in general, he has soft and gentle features.

"Well, Mr. Kina, can you help out my friend? She scraped her knee and needs help," I explain to him the situation.

"Oh, of course I'll help!" He goes over to Teako and leaves the mess behind.

I look down at the mess on the floor, and I start to wonder how it happened in the first place.

I walk over to the others, and I can see Mr. Kina is examining Teako's knees.

"How did you fall in the first place?" Mr. Kina asks Teako.

"I... I don't know. I might have slapped on a rock or something, I'm not too sure."

"Well, you'll heal fast! This isn't anything too serious!" Mr. Kina reassures her, "Ummm... could you give me the rubbing alcohol and cotton?"

Mr. Kina points to me, and I nod my head. I go over to one of the cabinets and look through it. I soon find what I'm looking for. I've been in the nurse's office many times, so I know where mostly everything is.

I walk over to Mr. Kina and I hand over what he asked for.

"I didn't even need to tell you where it was!" He asks with surprise.

"I've been here many times, so I kind of know where everything is," I explain to him.

"Oh! Well, I hope to see you soon then," he tells me before helping to tend to Teako's knees.

What did he mean by that? Wouldn't he wish not to see me? I must be looking too into his words. I'm sure he meant nothing by it.

While Mr. Kina is tending to Teako's wound, he makes me go and look for what he needs. It makes me feel like an assistant more than anything.

Finally, Mr. Kina ends up putting bandages on Teako's scrapes.

"Okay, you should be fine now!" Mr. Kina tells Taeko as he gets up.

I see Taeko look down at her knees. She moves her legs around, but I can tell from her face that her knees still hurt.

"The bell is about to ring. How about we start heading to class?" Taro asks his sister.

Taeko nods her head and responds, "Yeah, I can rest in my classroom. Let's go."

Taro and Taeko go to leave, and I'm about to leave as well, but the nurse's voice catches me by surprise, and I stop.

"Um... so you know your way around the office, right?" He asks me softly. Almost as if it took all his courage just to ask the simple question.

I turn to look at him and nod, "Yeah. I've been here many times, so I know where most things are."

"Oh! Yes, you did tell me that. But I was wondering something," Mr. Kina pauses, unsure whether or not he should ask me the question, "Can you be my assistant?"

He gives me a gentle smile, and his eyes are filled with what looks like hopefulness. Hoping that I would agree to be his assistant.

"Why? Can't you have the headmaster help you?"

"He is a very dismissive man, and none of the teachers would know anything. I think you would be the best for it. So can you?"

I want to turn down his offer, but I do feel a bit bad for the nurse. It's clear he doesn't know much. He is clumsy and naive.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind, Mr. Kina."

"Thank you…"

"(L/N)."

"Thank you, (L/N)."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Really?" Taeko asks me, almost dropping her chip on the ground from how surprised she was.

I shrug my shoulders and respond, "I felt bad for him, you know?"

"Not really."

I let out a sigh and answer back, "He is really clumsy, Taeko! Didn't you see what he was doing before we came in?"

"What was he doing?" Taro asks, now interested in the conversation.

"He was cleaning something up in the next room, and there was broken glass everywhere! I felt bad, so I decided to help him, and it's only for his week," I further explain to them, I was mostly hoping that Taeko would understand better.

"Okay, so when are you supposed to help him?" Taeko further asks.

"I'm going to have to skip this week's club meeting, but-"

I'm cut off by Taeko.

"So what are we going to do while you're gone?" Taeko asks me, worried about what would happen to the club.

"We just won't do any meetings this week," I answer with a small shrug,"It's not a big deal to skip a week. You'll be fine. Just take this week off."

"Well, if you say so..."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It's after school, and it's time for me to help Mr. Kina. I'm sure this will be easy.

When I walk into the infirmary, I'm met with a confusing sight.

I see Mr. Kina wrapped up in a bunch of bandages. For a moment, I am too stunned to move or speak. How was this even possible to do?

I'm snapped out of my confusion once Mr. Kina speaks up. "Could you help me?" Mr. Kina asks me timidly, embarrassed that I found him in such a state.

"Y-Yes, yes, of course," I quickly answer before going over to him. The bandages were wrapped around his legs and his hips. From the looks of it, he was trying to get out of them, but failed and wrapped himself into the bandages even more.

I try my best to unwrap the bandages, and eventually, I'm able to get them off of him.

"Oh! Thank you so much, (L/N)! I don't know what I would have done without you!" Mr. Kina thanks me while giving me his usual soft smile.

"No, problem. But how did that even happen in the first place?" I ask him, wondering how a grown man was able to get himself tangled up in some bandages.

Mr. Kina lets out a nervous laugh, "It's kind of a long story, but to spare you the details, I'm just a very clumsy person."

That wasn't too surprising. The first time I met him, he was cleaning up a mess he made, so I guess getting himself wrapped up in bandages isn't too out of the ordinary for him.

"So, what do you want me to help you with?" I ask, moving on to another topic.

"Oh! Yes, could you show me around the office? I know I've been in here all day, but I would like to know where everything is. Since I've forgotten."

"Okay! I guess we should start over here," I walk over to the nurse's desk, which is right by the cabinets.

"This is your desk, and this is where the syringes can be found," I go to open up one of the drawers, where the syringes are kept.

I then go behind the desk and open another drawer. "In this drawer, this is where the basics things can be found. The bandages, alcohol, cotton balls, feminine products, and pregnancy tests."

I then walk away from the desk and over to the cabinets. "This is obvious, but this is where all the medication is kept, and it should be locked at all times."

I keep going around the office and showing Mr. Kina everything. Most of what I tell him is obvious information that he should already know, but I decide to go over it with him so he doesn't forget about it.

"That should be everything I think," I tell him, ending my introduction of everything.

"Thank you for that!" Mr. Kina tells me with joy, "I think I have a better understanding of everything since you explained it."

"Of course, that's why I'm here after all," I tell him,"Okay, I should be heading home now. I'm sure nobody is going to come in right now."

I go to grab my bag that I left on a nearby chair, but Mr. Kina's voice makes me turn around.

"You know, I wouldn't mind if you came by during lunchtime," he shyly offers me.

I think over his offer. On one hand, I would spend less time with Taeko and Taro, but on the other hand, I think it's best I'm here to support Mr. Kina.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind helping you out during lunchtime."

"That's wonderful, thank you."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I'm now walking back home, and for the first time in months, I'm walking back home by myself.

As I walk through the neighborhood, I feel something. Almost as if someone is watching me. I shrug it off, thinking it was just my paranoia taking over my senses.

But the feeling never goes away.

As I'm about to enter my home, I take a quick look behind me. And I don't see anything. Nobody is near me.

My paranoia is definitely getting to me.

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory: Chapter List

Main Masterlist ° Butterfly Effect Installments ° AO3

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader

Series Summary: After finding your way back to Michael and finally finding out who he really is, there is no doubt in your mind that you want to stick around. You care about him and now that the truth is out, you can see him clearly and you know that he needs someone who loves and supports him. You can be that person. You can help him get the happiness he deserves, you think, and perhaps help him get his daughter back, too. You're naive though, and you see it all through heart-shaped glasses - the life Michael is leading is dangerous and you don't know what you've signed up for until it's too late. And you soon realize that falling in love with a Kinsella isn't as easy as you thought it would be.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, established relationship, canon typical violence, graphic descriptions of injury, plot, description of child abuse, Character Death (chapter-specific warnings will be added before every chapter)

A/n: This is the official list of chapters. For those of you who haven’t read it, this is a continuation of my mini-series “Butterfly Effect”. It is not necessary to read because I mention the events that happened during the 7 parts of the mini-series again in this series to go with the plot. Still, it would probably be a good idea to read it and become familiar with their back story. It’s kind of a prequel, if you will. Also, I did add another warning because the plot evolved. I encourage you to read the warnings carefully and stay away if these topics trigger you. That’s all, I think. Enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE: Secret New Beginnings

CHAPTER TWO: I Know You Feel Like A Piece Of You’s Dead Inside

CHAPTER THREE: I’ll Show You Every Version Of Myself Tonight

CHAPTER FOUR: You See Right Through Me

CHAPTER FIVE: Designed To Deceive

CHAPTER SIX: My Reputation’s Never Been Worse

CHAPTER SEVEN: I Hope I Never Lose You

CHAPTER EIGHT: Let Us Hold Each Other

CHAPTER NINE: I Want You

CHAPTER TEN: I'll Look After You

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Not The Same As It Was

CHAPTER TWELVE: Just Let Me Adore You

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: He Looks Up Grinning Like A Devil

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: We'll Be A Fine Line

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Stop, You’re Losing Me

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Come Back To Me

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Crisp Trepidation

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Maybe I Don’t Quite Know What To Say

CHAPTER NINETEEN: My Castle’s Crumbling Down

CHAPTER TWENTY: You Showed Me Colors You Know I Can’t See With Anyone Else

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Are We Out Of The Woods Yet?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Look At This Godforsaken Mess That You Made Me?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: I Stay When You’re Lost, And I’m Scared, And You’re Turning Away

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Bandaids Don’t Fix Bulletholes

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Wondering If I Just Lost The Love Of My Life

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Seven Devils All Around

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: A Greater Woman Wouldn't Beg

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