#this was more of a quick one because I’ve been busting out the big guns all week and am out of juice

[ovytia-art]

Ectoberhaunt 2022 Day 7: Purify

Or at least the aftermath of an attempt ft. the alphabet(?) I made a while back for a magic system

Masterlist

#ectoberhaunt22 #EH Order #day 7 #purify #dp #danny phantom #this was more of a quick one because I’ve been busting out the big guns all week and am out of juice #blood #ectoplasm #blood blossoms #exorcism #magic circle #digital art #drawing #art

[redrobin-detective]

clouds between their knees

‘Robin, anything on your end?’ Batman asked over the comm. There’d been rumors of a gang meeting tonight with multiple possible locations. Bats took the most likely one while Robin, Batgirl and Spoiler were checking out the others. Cass and Steph’s leads were busts so Kon was prepared to take a peek before grappling to B’s location. And if his grapple was a little loose and he was going a little too fast, well who could tell otherwise?

“Not yet,” Kon grunted quietly as he shimmied quickly in through the broken window and down into the warehouse. “It’s dark in here so I’m not expecting much but I’ll check just to be sure.” It would be quicker to fly or just bust down the whole wall but Batman taught him better than that over the last three years. Besides, it wasn’t just his legacy he was messing with. Unlike when he was Superboy, he was part of something bigger and had people in his corner.

“Ok, I’m in,” he gracefully landed on the dusty floor and crept forward. He flipped up the lenses of his domino to do a quick Xray sweep and Bingo! Conner grinned when he took in the scene happening below him. “Jackpot B, I got the high beams up and there’s a hidden basement. I see Black Mask and, oh man, Red Hood is out in the open. We finally got him.”

‘Do not engage without me, I’m coming on your location now. 15 minutes,’ Batman said before signing off. Kon wanted to roll his eyes, his dad was so overprotective sometimes.

‘You better bring him in. As much as I love helping Oracle, I am So tired of house arrest,’ Tim grumbled over the line.

‘He’s made vocal threats against Robin, it was necessary,’ Batman grunted. Even if he wasn’t bulletproof, he wouldn’t let Tim go out with some maniac with Robin vendetta on the loose. Tim always groaned that Kon took Robin whenever there were dangerous missions as if he was secretly hoping to get maimed and killed. Sometimes it was a full time job keeping his big brother from self destructing. 

“I won’t engage B but it’s sealed up good so I can’t see or hear much. I’m gonna get into the vents and get more intel for when you arrive,” Kon said as he quickly cased the empty warehouse before finding a space just big enough for him to wedge into. He really hoped he didn’t inherit Clark’s big shoulders because this would be impossible if he were any bigger. It was already getting harder for him and Tim to share the Robin name and pretend they were the same person.

He lightened his weight a bit as he made his way through until he had a good view of the proceedings. Looks like they were arguing over the ‘green stuff’, ugh lame, couldn’t they just say money but something caught his attention.

“Hood looked up at me,” Kon whispered thoughtfully. As soon as Kon had come into the vent, Hood’s helmet had twitched ever so slightly in his direction. Kon didn’t like to brag but he was pretty good at what he did, it would be next to impossible for some hood to clock him that far away. “Could be a coincidence or he might had infrared or motion detectors in his helmet. If he’s been this hard to track down then we should treat him with caution, we don’t what kind of gear and intel he has.”

‘Oh nice to see we were able to train that muscle in your skull,’ Tim quipped as he snacked on something over the line.

“You’re just mad you can’t lift a cruise liner over your head, Boy Wimpy,” Kon bantered back even as he started slowly backing up.

‘Robin get out of there, now,’ Batman hushed as Red Hood leisurely stood up from the table and stretched suddenly, interrupting Black Mask mid sentence. Kon froze, worried about making any noise.

“This has been fun, Maskie but I’m afraid we’ll need to negotiate the terms of your unconditional surrender to me later,” Hood said lazily. His posture was casual but he was tense underneath. “We’ve got some visitors I’ve been meaning to talk to. So why don’t you put an egg in your shoe and fuck off,” he said before pulling a machine gun from underneath the table and began firing up at the vents.

‘Conner!’ He heard Tim and Bruce yell over the comms but Kon was too busy trying to get out as fast as he could. But the space was tight and currently being slammed full of bullets. Dozens of them bounced against his armor and skin and he thanked whoever would listen that he was out here instead of one of the others. He had almost retreated into the safer part of the vents when the whole thing collapsed on him.

He yelped and fell gracelessly onto the floor of the basement. Kon groaned for effect and pretended to curl up and nurse some injuries. He was really reaching inside his belt for smoke capsules and batarangs. Probably should leave some of the fake blood before he split, just to add to the illusion.

“Aw, the little birdie fell out of its nest,” Hood cooed, hefting the machine over one shoulder. “I thought I told you to scram, Sionis. If you’re not out of here in the next 30 seconds I’m putting holes in you, this one and I need to have a conversation.”

Kon heard the harried footsteps of Mask heading for the hills as Hood stomped forward, kicking away bits of the vent as he approached.

“I was hoping one of you brats would show tonight, especially you. I’ve almost got everything put in place so I’m finally ready to have some fun,” he said with a laugh in his voice as he slammed his boot into Kon’s gut. The boot was heavy, steel tipped and would probably have broken ribs but he didn’t really feel anything. Couldn’t say the same for Hood.

“Goddamn!” The crime lord shouted, jumping away and grabbing at his foot. “The hell is in your armor kid? How can you lug that heavy thing around?” Well Kon couldn’t always avoid getting shot so they had to make armor that was thicker, wouldn’t take damage so he could just pretend the bad guys missed. Plus he barely felt the extra weight even though it was heavier than B’s suit. “Guess I should be glad ole Brucie is taking better care of birds this time around.”

Thomas Conner Wayne tensed on the ground, his plans of escaping lost for a second. How could Hood possibly know that name? What was Kon gonna do about it?

“I’m gonna give you a present, Replacement,” Hood spat out. “A lot better than I got. I’m gonna beat the hell out of you, within an inch of your miserable, little life and then I’m gonna set the timer to blow this warehouse. I’ll give you a chance, won’t tie you up or stop you,” he leaned down close to Kon’s face, “I just wanna see if Bats really upgraded, if you’re better than the last one.” He straightened out.

“And don’t think Daddy Bat Wings is gonna come save your sorry ass, I know he was down by the docks. I made him think the meeting would be there so my crew is gonna divert him juuuust long enough for me to do what I need to. So,” there was a scraping sound, something dragging across the floor. “Shall we begin?”

Kon dove out of the way of what looked like a crowbar and crouched to his feet. He was still pretending to be injured but he needed to get out of here. Of course Hood couldn’t actually hurt him but it wouldn’t do for him to know that. They danced and dodged for a minute or two, but Hood was Good with a capital G. Kon was throwing all his skills and tools into trying to take the gangster down but it really was hard to avoid the vicious onslaught. The man got in a few hits every once in a while and Kon tried to react but he knew it wasn’t good enough and the man was suspicious.

“The hell is Bruce feeding you? Why won’t you stay down you little punk?” Hood yelled, whipping Kon hard across the face with the crowbar. He stumbled back against the table where a small box had been sitting. It knocked onto the floor and exposed something inside. Something green. Immediately, Kon’s knees buckled.

“Shit,” he groaned quietly to himself as he tried to inch away from the deadly rock but it was sapping all his energy. He’d only been exposed to Kryptonite once, at the Fortress because Bruce had insisted he knew what it felt like. But he was such a dad he only made Conner suffer a minute before he closed the box and took him home to Alfred for cookies. He didn’t think that’s how this story would end. He gagged as his stomach rolled and his lungs seized and if he could just move a little further away... Hood just stood there watching in stunned disbelief.

“Are you shitting me?” He asked quietly, stalking forward with surprising softness. Hood moved so much like a Bat, it was unnerving. “I brought that to prove to Mask that I really had stolen his shipment but it led me to an even bigger score.” He scooted the box closer to Kon who finally collapsed from the strain. “Now how did he get his hands on you, I wonder?”

“I’m sorry,” Kon whispered but he wasn’t talking to Hood, he was talking into the comm still plugged into his ear. “I’m sorry, I love you guys.”

“Get away from my brother!” Like some kind of angel, Kon’s blurry vision saw someone drop down from the hole in the vents and slam into Hood. He grabbed the box containing the Kryptonite and slammed it shut. Kon felt like he could breathe again. “Robin, get up. B’s delayed but I got a car outside.” It was Tim, hastily dressed in his Robin uniform and looking more mad than Kon had ever seen him.

“There’s two of you?” Hood cackled, swinging his crowbar. “Oh that’s rich, are you twins? Tell me, did he steal you from the Flashes or the Atom perhaps? you’re certainly small enough. Bad enough he replaced me once but twice over? That’s just cruel, Dad.”

“Robin, I said, get up!” Tim yelled, swinging his staff which Hood dodged. They didn’t work together often since they were playing the same role but Tim’s fighting prowess always left him in awe. And furious like he was now, he was doing a number to Hood. With the box shut, more of Kon’s strength returned until he was able to stagger to his feet. Tim was holding his own but, as Kon had discovered, the Red Hood was beast. He couldn’t do much as Tim was tossed around and slammed into the wall. His skin bruised, he bled as Hood got a knife against his throat with one hand while he unclipped his helmet with the other.

Conner had never given much thought to Jason Todd. No one really talked about him, only Tim when they snuck into each other’s rooms for sleepovers. From the way Tim described him with starry eyes, Jason had been bold but kind, sensitive and intelligent. The man before them was nothing like that, his pale face flushed with anger and his green eyes positively glowing with hate.

“Look at this,” He said gesturing to his knife covered in Tim’s blood. “You’re just as human as I am but we don’t matter, do we? We’re just pawns in his game, pawns he’ll sacrifice if he thinks it’ll give an advantage to his precious mission. That lug over there? He’s not just a pawn, he’s a knight. When B’s chewed up and spit out the rest of us, at least he’ll have his Kryptonian lapdog to keep the legacy going. I suggest you ditch the tights before you end up in the grave next to mine.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Kon hissed, bodyslamming into Hood to get him away from Tim. He ripped the knife out of his hands and threw him roughly onto the table in the middle of the room. He laid there, not moving and Kon didn’t care right now if he was dead or not. He needed to get Tim help. Tim grabbed onto the box, holding it shut while Kon grabbed his brother and flew them out of the basement and into the smoggy Gotham sky.

XxX

“Hey, you awake?” Tim groaned and turned to look at Kon. It wasn’t unusual to have his brother at his bedside in the medical portion of the Cave. It was weird to see him on the cot next to him with the sunlamp on him. His face was still pale with a sickly green tinge to it but he seemed okay.

“Ugh why does my mouth taste like plastic?” Tim gripped, wiping clumsily at his face.

“Alf had to sedate you, your throat needed stitches and you were pretty banged up everywhere else,” Kon frowned and turned to look up at the ceiling. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt at all.”

“No one knew Hood would be there or that there was Kryptonite in Gotham. There was literally nothing you could have done,” Jason’s crazed face sprang to mind. “No one saw that one coming.”

“I’m not gonna go easy next time,” Kon growled. “He hurt you, he wanted to do some messed up torture thing and that could’ve been you and I don’t care that he used to be a Bat. As far as I’m concerned, he ain’t anymore.” 

“It’s not as easy as that,” Clark said, coming out of nowhere looking tired himself. He was still dressed in pajamas, Bruce must’ve called him in a panic. “How’re you boys holding up?”

“Been better,” Tim said at the same time as Kon. Tim snickered at Clark’s eyeroll. He should know better by now that they were a packaged deal. “How’s Bruce taking the revelation?”

“He sat here through your treatments but as soon as he heard you both were okay he buried himself in his work. I,” Clark paused. “I think he’ll need you again to get him through this, Tim. You saw how he was when Jason died. This won’t be pretty. Conner, we’d heard a large shipment of Kryptonite had been stolen but we didn’t think it had come through Gotham. We’ll be keeping tabs trying to track it down and out of enemy hands.”

“Appreciate that,” Kon groaned, “that sucked ass.”

“It might help to get out of the city for a bit,” Clark suggested cautiously and got Tim’s hackles up. “Bruce has the best sunlamps money can buy but it’s nothing like the real thing. Ma would love to take you for a week or two, to get your strength up. Or you could stay with Lois and I in Metropolis.”

“Thanks but my family is here and they need me,” Kon said shortly, rolling over to face away from Clark. Tim glared hard at the Super until he had the sense to back off.

“Right, of course, I’ll let you two rest and if you need me I’ll um...” He shuffled off, presumably to try and get B out of his own head. Tim huffed away his aggression.

Years ago, Clark hadn’t wanted the responsibility of taking Conner full time but now suddenly he was around all the time. He’d heard from B that Clark wasn’t happy with the current arrangement. He was upset that Kon was adopted while Tim was still living with his dad, that Kon took up Robin alongside Tim, upset that he hasn’t been Superboy in years and doesn’t use his powers while in costume. He’d had his chance to make a family, a legacy with Conner but now he was Tim’s brother and he’d open that Kryptonite box on the man if he tried to take Kon away.

“Kon-”

“I’m fine, Tim,” Conner said sharply. “Look, I’m not going anywhere especially not when all this is going down. I may be a Super in blood but I’m a Bat in every way that counts.” He turned and scooted over so they were face to face and whispered quietly so Clark couldn’t hear. “So how’re we gonna stop Jay before it tears Bruce apart?”

“I have some ideas,” Tim grinned. It ached that it had come to this, his idol rising from the grave to become a criminal. But Conner had become his brother over the days, months and years of training and school and stupid shenanigans. No one, not even Robin could come between them because they were Robin. Stronger together than they were alone. That’s what it meant to be a Bat. 

#super robin au #I had to write last nights for context but This idea is what I really wanted to convey #Kon out in the field acting human but quietly using his powers here and there #tim and kon being super tight bros tag teaming as rbin #Jay being Hella confused why his torture isn't working #I was halfway through when I rememebered in UtRH comic that Jay stole a bunch of Kryptonite from Mask #and I threw back my head and LAUGHED so viciously #poor kon #also no clark bashing #he means well but hes really upset by this arangement #he thinks its cruel to keep Kon in a city with no sun #to put him in another's suit and tell them to share #to hide who he is with his powers #they've worked out custody things but he Does care for Conner and want what's best for him #he just have diffrent ideas on 'best' #I wanted to explore how this affects clark and bruces relationship but another fic i guess #also I Really need to get o bed this got long #so another 'post now edit later fic'

[imperfectcourt]

Andreil Prompt:

Neil is an Assassin. Some day something goes very, very wrong. So the first time Andrew meets Neil, Neil has to explain to him that he accidentally poisened him and Andrew has to go to the hospital to get the antidote.

So I was really unsure about this but when I got going I got really excited about it! But I also COMPLETELY MISSED the line where it said "the first time" so this is very much not the first time they meet ;__; sorry! I hope you like it though!

Neil had never panicked on a job before. He’d never made a mistake or killed the wrong person or not killed the right person. He could kill whoever he was told to kill, he could kill however he was told to kill, and he could be whoever he was told to be in order to do it.

Killing Andrew Minyard was the worst and last mistake Neil would ever make.

Worming his way into A. Minyard’s life hadn’t been easy but it had been natural- the most honest work of his filthy, bloody life.

It had to be this way. It couldn’t look like a typical mob hit, anything abrupt and easy would look suspicious. The call had to come from inside the house, or so they say.

Neil tipped the vial into the remnants of the whiskey bottle and poured two modest glasses. It wouldn’t be pleasant for him but he’d built up enough of a tolerance to survive. Odorless, collarless, no paper trail. He’d suffer some hallucinations and maybe some minor liver damage but he’d live and after tonight he’d be free. No more Moriyama’s. No more contracts. No more death.

No more Andrew.

Neil brought one glass up to swirl, smell, sniff, and sip. A perfectly normal glass of whiskey. He brought out onto the small balcony and put them on the rickety table between two lawn chairs. Andrew picked his up and didn’t make the small cheers motion he always did as a silent thanks, didn’t drink. He’d been staring at his closed phone for the last half hour. Neil knew he would say what was wrong in time (if there was time).

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said after several long minutes, punctuating the statement with a sip. Guess there was time, after all. Neil sat sideways on his chair so he could watch Andrew light a cigarette.

“That sounds ominous. You’re not a murderer are you?”

Andrew’s top lip curled in a small, vicious smile. “That’s a truth for a different day.”

No, it wasn’t, and Neil found himself reaching for another mouthful of whiskey. Andrew raised a brow at this, having caught on a while ago that Neil liked to draw the drink out as long as possible if it meant he didn’t have to go home yet.

“It’s nothing to form a drinking habit over, calm down.” Andrew took up his drink again and every sip he took felt like friendly fire. “You’re going to see something on the news tomorrow and I’d rather tell you myself than get pissy with me for not bringing it up sooner.”

“Secrets secrets are no fun,” Neil parroted. Andrew kicked out his socked foot to hit Neil’s heel and didn’t pull it back.

“A story will be dropping about my brother’s involvement in a gang bust tonight. Just got word that everything went well but his services had been needed on sight.” With the hand that held the cigarette, he gave his cellphone a little shake.

“You have a brother?” That hadn’t been in the assignment, but family matters were often left out for jobs like this. He couldn’t go in knowing too much and risk exposing himself.

“My twin.”

“You have a twin?”

Andrew threw back the rest of his drink and waved it at Neil’s face. “The only reason I’m telling you is because you’re going to see him parading around on t.v. with my face. We’re not that close.”

A gang bust. Big enough for national news. That couldn’t- that would mean-

“What’s his name?”

“Aaron.”

“A. Minyard. Doctor Aaron Minyard.”

Andrew froze. Looked at Neil so expressionless he might as well have been stone. “I never said he was a doctor.”

He didn’t have to. Dr. A Minyard. Fox affiliated attached to a photograph. Andrew had his PhD and his connection to Kevin Day was easy enough to find if you knew where to look. The Foxes were an elusive bunch of vigilantes but everyone had heard of Kevin Day, son of the founders of the Foxes.

Neil had never made a mistake before and killing Andrew Minyard was the biggest mistake of his life. He knocked the glass from Andrew’s hand only because Andrew let him.

“Now, right now,” he changed, grabbing Andrew by the sleeve and tugging him back inside. It only worked because Andrew let him. Andrew was always letting Neil, trusting Neil. And for what? For this?

Neil let go when he was sure Andrew would follow him and rushed to the tiny kitchen. He took the water glass by the sink and upended the entire salt shaker into it.

“Drink this right now,” he ordered Andrew.

Andrew did not take it.

“Andrew, trust me just one last time. Just this one last time trust me and drink this. Just this once. Just this one last time.” There was time. There was barely time. It had been less than a minute, there had to be time.

Neil didn’t know what he would do if Andrew didn’t drink, if Neil killed him for nothing. No matter what the outcome, no matter Andrew's decision, Neil would die either way.

Andrew took the salt water, drank the whole thing, and promptly threw up in the sink.

Neil watched, hands in his hair and tears clouding his eyes as Andrew righted himself, wiping at his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“That’ll give you time to get to the hospital. You have to go now, you’ve got time.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Andrew put his hand slowly, calmly, over Neil’s throat, “until you explain.”

He pressed him into the wall.

Neil let him.

“You were supposed to be my last one and my contract would be fulfilled,” he said.

“Explain better than that. What does this have to do with Aaron?”

“There’s no time-”

“Then make it quick.” He pressed against Neil’s throat and Neil’s hands came up instinctively to grab his arm. He stopped before making contact.

“I was born into a debt that the Moriyama’s own. I was one of their hit men. A. Minyard. Fox associate. And a picture. That was my last assignment and I could finally… I could…”

Words were getting harder. He had begun ingesting the poison before Andrew and hadn’t gotten any of it out of his system.

“You’re the only one I never…”

“Never what? Never shot like a coward? Never succeeded in killing?”

“Never wanted to.” His hands came down onto Andrew’s forearm even though he didn’t have permission. His vision was swimming around the edges and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the drug or the pressure on his trachea. “I didn’t want to kill you. H-hospital. You still need the hospital. You have time.”

“Why should I believe a single thing you say?”

“I’ve never lied to you.” It was so important for him to say that somehow the words came out with conviction. “Never lied. Andrew, you’re amazing and I love you but you need to leave right now.”

His knees gave out and for the briefest moment all of his weight was being held by the hand on his throat. Andrew lowered them both to the ground.

“What did- You idiot.” Ah, yes. He must have caught on. “You did all this to live only to fucking kill yourself? Neil. Neil… Neil!”

Neil had never panicked on a job, but he’d also never woken up in a hospital bed before. He was aware of the spike in noise before he was aware of his surroundings.

“The worst assassin in history.”

Neil groaned but didn’t yet open his eyes. His memory was just solid enough to know what he’d taken and experience told him he wasn’t ready to face the spinning world.

“Can’t say he was wrong, technically,” the same voice said.

“What kind of assassin not only chooses the wrong target but falls in love with their dumb ass?”

“This dumb ass has the same level of education as your dumb ass.”

“My dumb ass has a doctorate of medicine, not in books.”

“Literature.”

“Still dumb.”

“Sssh,” Neil breathed out, testing the waters of control and strength. He had very little of either.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the dumbest of asses.”

“Give him another hour and he might even be able to respond.”

“Now who would want that.”

The second time Neil woke up in a hospital, it was enough for him to look around and realize this was not a hospital but rather a medically furnished bedroom.

“I hate you.”

He turned his head to see Andrew slouching back in an overstuffed, wingback chair. The look on his ever-passive face was angry and Neil would take angry over dead any day.

“You made it,” he slurred. His mouth felt like cotton. “You made it,” he said again because it was right and good. “You made it.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m fine. Got a tolerance”

“Is that something they teach you in the bright sunny world of the Nest?”

Neil made a finger gun at Andrew (why?) and slowly, slowly tilted himself onto his side to see him better. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew there were things he needed to worry about, but for now he just wanted to look.

“I’m happy you’re alive.”

“I don’t care.” And he sounded like he didn’t, but that was how he always sounded. Still Andrew. Still him. Still alive. For a long, quiet while they stared at each other.

“I have to go before the Moriyama’s come looking to do clean up. This won’t be tolerated.”

“No. It won’t be. But not by the Moriyama’s.”

Andrew stood in a motion that made him look much older than he was, tired. As he came to stand over the bed, Neil couldn’t help but stare because not killing Andrew Minyard was the only right thing he had ever done.

“The Foxes completed their take down of the Moriyama’s. It’s been all over the news, which you would have seen if you hadn’t poisoned yourself.”

The… the what? Something must have shown on Neil’s face because Andrew pressed him down into the bed a split second before he’d tried to sit up. As consciousness cleared his fog, his brain began catching up enough to understand that he wasn’t understanding. The synapses were there but they weren’t connecting.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered. Andrew’s mask twitched.

“Of course you don’t, you’ve been too deep cover to keep up with what was right under your nose. The Foxes won, there are no more Ravens, and you, Nathaniel, are a free man.”

The sound of that name, his name, sent a flinch so hard through his body that it made something cramp in his stomach. Andrew watched, bored, as he curled in on himself. If he knew that name, if his cover was blown so spectacularly, then there must be an ounce of truth to it.

“I’m just… Neil. I just want to be Neil.”

“Well, Neil.” Andrew slid his hand into Neil’s hair and squeezed, not hard but enough to tilt his head back. “If you ever do something that stupid again I will kill you myself.” Something in his eyes, however passive he tried to pull off, told Neil that Andrew was not referring to his own attempted murder.

“Were you… worried about me?” That couldn’t be right.

“I don’t know, Neil.” He kept saying his name like that and Neil didn’t know what to feel about it. “My whatever of a good stretch of time nearly killed himself. How should I be feeling?”

“I nearly killed you. I only poisoned myself a little.”

“Why?”

Why? The easy answer was forensics. Two glasses. Two drinkers. One lucky to survive the ordeal. But that wasn’t all of it. As Neil stared up up at Andrew, here at the other side of it all, he could admit to himself that he was glad for the punishment.

“Because… because I was going to kill you to save my own life and I had never hated myself for anything more than that.”

“I hate you,” Andrew spat.

“As long as you’re alive to hate me it’s fine.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me more about the take down.”

“No.”

“Is your brother a Fox? Do I have to be killed for knowing that?”

“You have to be killed because you won’t shut your mouth.”

A good stretch of time. That’s how long Neil had been worming his way to be Andrew’s whatever. And in all that time he’d never felt safer. He lifted a shaky hand and waited. It took nearly a minute before Andrew released his hair and took the hand up in his own.

He didn’t apologize for trying to kill him. He didn’t apologize for coming into his life under false pretenses. If Andrew was there now, he trusted Neil enough to understand. They could talk about it later.

“Go back to sleep,” Andrew ordered quietly.

“So I’ll shut up?” Neil whispered back. His eyes were already drifting closed.

“Sure.”

#aftg #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #all for the game #my writing

[xmalereader]

The Mandalorian X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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I FORGOT TO TAG THE REQUESTER 😭😭 IF YOU FIND THIS PLEASE TELL ME SO THAT I CAN FIX IT!!

Requested: Hey can I request engineer!reader x Din Djarin where reader travels with Din and Din just assumed reader can't fight for shit since reader is an engineer and he's seen reader get scared of insects, but then Din is in trouble and reader comes to save him, guns blazing, like "listen you pay me to take care of the ship, not to take care of you"

Warnings: Fluff, language, engineer reader, slight violence, sassy reader, badass reader that din falls in love with!

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It has been a few days since they have landed on Nevaroo, fueling up and getting supplies for their next journey. But, of course, they couldn’t leave yet without repeating the crest. Poor thing was busted up and his partner was in charge of fixing it up.

Din couldn’t asked for some help from Greef but y/n refused the help, saying that he was the personal engineer and it was his job to fix the dam thing.

Thing is, they have been on Nevaroo way too long. They were suppose to head out three days back but because of the crest not working up, they had spent the next few days trying to fix it, but so far no success and y/n still refuses the help they are offered.

“SON OF A BITCH!”

Din is sitting in the cockpit with the child when he is startled by the loud shouting. Grogu too, gets startled, causing him to drop his favorite ball and to turn his head towards the engine room. His ears raise in alarm as he turns to Din and gives him a look. Din can only shake his head with a sign, “Let’s hope you don’t repeat those words one day.” He said as he climbs out of his seat and heads towards the back.

Approaching the engine room he hears the other grumbling to himself as he got closer.

“Stupid piece of junk! Why won’t you work?!” Y/n whispers to hismelf as he works on the wiring, reaching inside to try and fix it but ends up getting shocked instead, causing him to yelp in surprise and pull away, glaring at the thing he kicks the wall.

“I thought you were fixing my ship, not breaking it more.” Said Din, leaning against the wall with arms crossed. Y/n gasps as he turns around to see the Mandalorian. “I’m trying but your ship is a piece of junk.” He says back with a glare.

Din sighs again, he’s dealt with y/n for awhile now so his additude was nothing new to him. The two have grown so close that y/n no longer found the Mandalorian intimidating like before.

“Treat her nice.” He reminds the engineer as he bends down to check the wiring. “Dank ferik.” He can see the wiring but can’t reach it, grunting he tries to reach for it again but slowly gives up after a few seconds. “Any suggestions?” He blurts out.

Y/n hums. “You won’t like it.”

“That’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Y/n.”

The two stare at eachother as y/n speaks up quickly. “The hole is small enough for the kid to crawl through.”

Din rasies a brow from underneath the helmet. He was close to regecting the idea until he gave the small space one last look, taking in the size. He looks back to y/n who only grins in return before the two slowly turn their heads towards Grogu who was standing in front of them. Watching them with big curious eyes, giving off a small coo at the two.

—

“—the red wire goes where the blue wire was and the blue wire goes where the red wire was.”Din tries to instruct the kid. The two were able to squeeze the kid inside and Din had explained Grogu what he needed to do and the kid agrees to the idea with a small nod and here they are now.

Din has been trying to guide the kid on what to do but the small gremlin can only give him questionable looks, confused on what he was suppose to do.

“No—you put the red one where the blue used to go.”

Y/n sighs and rolls his eyes at the Mandalorian, suddenly getting frustrated as he crouched down and shoves din aside. “Move over tin can, the kid doesn’t know what he’s doing.” He says as he looks inside the small space and gives Grogu a soft smile.

“Grogu.” The kid tilts his head over to y/n his ears rising at the attention. “Hey kid, We need you to help us fix the wiring, you are the only one who fits and if you can help fix it then maybe we can leave early and explore another planet.” Grogu coos at the idea of exploring a new planet or at least getting to know a new area.

“Good, now listen—“ he tries to guide the child and make the situation a bit more easier for the kid to understand. “Grogu, show me the red wire.” He instructs.

Grogu grunts as he lifts his small arm, holding the red wire towards y/n with a tilt of his head. “Good job! Now, on the board you will see two colors. Blue and red, I need you to put the red one into the blue.”

Grogu huffs and gives off a squeak, questioning himself weather that was right or not? He was a child and had the mind of a child, so of course he’s going to be confused as to why the colors need to be opposite.

Y/n is quickly get the signal of the child. “Grogu, you see the red one has to go inside the blue charge because it’ll make the ship work faster and better. Don’t you want the ship to go fast like last time?” He asks, reminding the child of the time that Din spun the crest around in circles, causing the child to squeal in joy and throw his little arms up.

“He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Said Din as y/n glares at him and slaps him on the leg before turning back to Grogu with a fake smile.

The kid turns back to the board and looks at the two different cables. Cooing he plugs the red one into the blue charge, “yes! Perfect, now put the blue wire into the red charge!”

Grogu lets out a small huff as he plugs in the red wire, causing the ship to come to life as y/n stands up and cheers. “HA!” He points at Din with a mischievous grin. “Told you that he can do it.” He folds his arms over his chest with a raised brow and a smirk on his face.

Din rolls his eyes under the helmet, “well—“ he walks over to help the kid who was trying to get down from the small height. Taking the kid in his arms he strokes one of his ears. “At least the kid is a better mechanic than you.”

Y/n gasps with a glare. “You take that back.”

“Sorry, but no.” Din shrugs and leaves the area, heading back to the cockpit where he sets the kid down and starts to check on the controllers to see what was functioning correctly this time.

After the checkup, they were ready to head out. They had all of the supplies they needed and could last for a few weeks. “Come on kid,” he nods towards Grogu. He was sitting on top of the boxes while holding his favorite silver ball. He watches Din move the boxes against the wall and straps them in. “Looks like we are good to go—“

He is cut off by a scream coming from the cockpit. Din is quick as he climbs up to the cockpit and rushes inside with blaster in hand, “what’s wrong?” He sees y/n standing by a corner with wide eyes as he points towards the pilots chair. “Kill it.” He says.

Din rasies a brow in confusion as he turns to look at the pilots chair, stepping forward he spins the chair around to see a pretty large spider on the seat. “Oh.” With his blaster he nudges the creature, causing it to move.

Y/n gasps and tries to push hismelf further into the corner. “Are you crazy?! Kill it already! Just kill it!” He shouts. The Mandalorian chuckles at the mans actions and shakes his head. “It’s not going to hurt you, these aren’t poisons like the rest.” He puts his blaster away and turns to y/n. “Didn’t know you were scared of small creatures.”

“Shut up! Spiders and Womp rats are two different things! One can easily kill you and the other just runs away!” He exclaims.

Din shakes his head. “I’m starting to think that you don’t know how to do much.” He mumbles out before turning back to the chair to remove the spider, but once he turned back he sees Grogu holding the creature in his small hands and shoving it in his mouth. A loud crunch can be heard as he chews on the thing.

Y/n gags and covers his mouth. “That’s disgusting.” He groans out and quickly leaves the cockpit to avoid the scene that he just witnessed.

Din chuckles, turning to the kid and with a shrug he says. “At least you ate something.” The kid grins back at his father and laughs.

—

Din and y/n say their goodbyes to Greef and Cara, thanking them for the help and for allowing them to stay for a couple of days. Now, they can officially head out and visit another planet.

As din prepares the engines he glanced over to y/n who sat next to Grogu, playing with the kid as the crest slowly lifts off.

“Where too?” Asks y/n with a small smile as he holds one of Grogus tiny hands in his own big ones. “I was thinking that was visit Tatoonie for a bit, I need to visit someone.” Y/n rasies a brow. “Visit someone, who?”

Din smiles. “An old friend.”

The ride to tatooine was long, it took a few hours for them to arrive through hyper space and all in one piece. The crest was flying smoothly and no damage has occurred quiet yet, but hopefully nothing bad happens.

Y/n looks out the window as they arrive, taking in the desert planet as they fly over mountains and a few towns. “It looks lonely here.” He blurts out without thinking.

“Trust me, I’ve seen worse.” Din replied back as he turns the crest around and slowly lands them down in front a big building that y/n didn’t recorgnize.

“Want me to come with?” He asks, holding Grogu in his arms as Din turns off the engines and turns around to face y/n. “Best you stay here, I’ll be back quick.” He gives din a nod and looks down to Grogu who coos back and pats his cheeks, trying to cheer him up.

Din nods at the two before leaving the cockpit.

Y/n is left behind with the kid, holding him close he watches from the cockpit as The front gate is pulled away and Din is allowed inside, he watches the gates close again leaving him alone with the kid. “Alright womp rat, what should we do for the next few minutes?” He asks.

Grogu tilts his head with rasies ears, wanting to know if they’ll do something fun. Y/n laughs and heads towards the ladder, climbing down with the kid in his arms. “Their sand outside, maybe we can play for awhile?” He suggest as he drops down the ramp, allowing them to step outside.

Once y/n step out a blast of heat hits him, causing him to groan. “It’s too hot.” He grumbled out as he sets Grogu down. The child waddles down the ramp and towards the sand.

Y/n makes sure to guide the kid towards a shady area where the sun won’t hit them. After finding a perfect spot he sits down next to the kid who begins to play with the sand, making small hills as he squeals and kicks the sand around in joy.

Y/n was too distract by the kid that he didn’t notice a small pack of anoobas coming towards them. A deep growl pulls him away from his distraction as he looks up ahead to see anoobas slowly making its way towards the two.

Y/n quickly gets on his feet and pulls out his blaster. “Damn desert beasts.” He hissed out. Grogu whines and hides behinds his legs, holding onto his pants as his ears pin down.

“Grogu, get back to the ship and hide just how we taught you.” He instructs the kid who listens carefully and nods. The ramp wasn’t too far from them and as the kid makes a run for it the anoobas are quick to jolt into action. Running towards them as y/n shoots his blaster at the creatures.

Grogu whines as he climbs back inside the crest and quickly hides behind some boxes. Y/n continues to shoot at the creatures, taking one down but still having two more charging at him.

Cursing under his breath and heads back inside the crest, quickly grabbing Mandos beskar staff that he left behind and using it to defend himself. The creature jumps at y/n, he rolls away from it and uses the staff to stab its side causing the creature to scream in pain.

He holds the staff hard in his hands as he glares. “Come on you filthy mutts.” He says as he spins the staff. The two creatures circle him, he follows their footsteps and keeps track of the two, waiting for one to make its first move.

The one behind him attacks first, swinging its claws at him. Y/n is quick to suck the attack and swings the staff under the creatures legs, tripping it over as the other jumps at him. Gasping he steps back and almost trips himself. “Stupid sand.” He mutters out before the creature bounces on him.

Using the staff he holds it up in front of him to stop the creature from digging its teeth into him. Grunting he holds the staff tight as he holds the creatures sharp teeth away from him by. The creature growls and puts its weight on him as y/n screams, trying to push the thing away from him. His arms were starting to tire him out and soon he’ll become this things next meal.

Before his arms could give out a blaster shot it heard and the creature falls limp on its side. He shoves the creature away and pants, standing back up as he turns around to not only see one but two mandalorians, making their way over.

Signing in relief he lets himself relax for bit until he notices the other anoobas approaching the mandalorians from behind. Y/n’s eyes widen in worry, gripping the staff in his hands he glares at the creature. “Mando look out!” He shouts. Using his last strength to throw the spear at the creatures head as it tumbles down into the sand.

Y/n placed his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “You—you—“ he pants out and walks towards the mandalorians. “You took forever!” He points to Din with a small glare. “I almost got killed and then I had to save your life! You almost got killed by that damn thing!” He points at the creature before walking over and yanking the spear out of its head, stumbling back as he looks at the weapon. “It’s all dirty now.” He says.

“So this is who you hired?” He hears the other Mandalorian say.

“He was suppose to be an engineer...didn’t exactly expect this.” The other replied back as he puts his blaster away. “Where Grogu?”

“I told him to stay inside the ship, he’s probably still hiding inside—just like I taught him.”

“You taught him?”

“Hey I just saved your life, you hired me to fix your ship not to be your babysitter.” He shot back with a hand on his hip as he gives him a sass like stand.

The other Mandalorian chuckles under his helmet as he listens to the two argue. Y/n turns to the other and nods towards him, “something funny to you bucket head?”

His laughter dies down but underneath the helmet he is smiling. “Nothing, just impressed by your ways and strength. You could make a good Mandalorian.”

Y/n hums. “Yeah—I’d rather not.” He tosses the staff to din who catches it. He walks passed the two as he sighs, “I’m gonna get the kid.”

The two mandalorians watch y/n walk away and head back towards the crest. “I’m surprised.” Said Boba. Din rasies a brow at him and holds the staff in his hands as he looks at him. Boba turns towards his friend. “Surprised you haven’t married him yet, best you hurry before I decided to take him for myself.” Said boba.

Din glares at his friend who laugh at him before shaking his head and patting his shoulder. Din may have found y/n a bit annoying and tough to handle but after seeing him fight he couldn’t help but fall in love just a little bit more with the man.

#male reader #pedro pascal #din djarin #din djarin x male reader #pedro pascal x male reader #the mandalorain #star wars x male reader #star wars #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian inccorect quotes

[plaidbooks]

Hey 🥰 could I request working with Sonny and you two used to date but broke up, you remained friends but never really got over each other and your end up going through a pretty bad time with work or personal stuff and you’re struggling mentally and not eating etc and when he realises he comes over to your place to check ur ok and you just breakdown and he tells u he still loves u and that it’ll always be u 🥺

Some Space

A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long! I was so burnt out of writing, but I'm here now! I hope that this makes up for the wait!

This takes place before Sonny joins SVU--and his timeline is a little wonky to make this fic work, but oh well.

Tags: death, shootings, blood, disassociation

Words: 2590

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @reading--mermaid @dreamlover31 @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell

“So, do you wanna move in together?” Sonny asked while you cuddled on his couch. You turned to look at him, and his face fell as he saw your expression. “…you don’t?”

You sighed. “It’s not like I don’t love you, Sonny, because I do. It’s just…I mean, we’re still in our mid-20s. I want a little more, uh, freedom before I settle down, you know?”

“I’ve known since we started dating in high school that I was in for the long term. I was thinking of maybe…I don’t know, getting married…having kids…. Now that we’ve settled into patrol, I thought it would be the perfect time to take the next step,” he muttered.

You sat in silence, debating. You loved Sonny, and you did want to marry him…someday. Not right now. You’ve barely lived any of your life; hell, you lived at home still. Sonny had his own apartment, but you didn’t want to go from living with your parents to living with him. You wanted space, time to figure out who you really were. And you didn’t think you could do that with Sonny. If he couldn’t give you your independence, if you both wanted different things, then you were going to have to break up with him, as much as it would break your heart to do it.

“Listen, Sonny, I need to live my own life for a little bit, discover myself. I-it’s nothing wrong with you, I promise—”

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked softly.

Hearing the words out loud made tears form in your eyes. “I…yes, I guess I am. At least until I find myself…. I’m so sorry, Sonny. I’ll always care about you. We can still be friends?”

“Y-yeah…okay, sure. I…yeah…” he trailed off, unwrapping his arms from around you. You both sat there awkwardly, and the tension was thick. You stood, moving to grab your jacket, and Sonny followed you to the front door.

“This isn’t…goodbye. I promise you, Sonny Carisi. It’s just—”

“See you later?” he finished.

You gave him a smile, and a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

*****************************

That was months ago now, and you had transferred out of Staten Island patrol, unable to see Sonny every day, those big, sad blue eyes trying to avoid your gaze. Now, you worked for Brooklyn, an officer in their Homicide department. You settled in quickly, and you found a cheap-ish apartment in Brooklyn.

It was nice living by yourself, and you highly enjoyed it. You missed Sonny dearly, but you thought it was too soon to reach out. Your heart still strained when you thought about the breakup, so you kept your distance. But it was getting easier and easier to let those feelings fade away in your new line of work. Brooklyn Homicide was a lot busier than Staten patrol, and you got along great with your partner, Drew Zimmer.

“We keep making these busts, and we’re gonna make detective in no time,” Drew said, grinning at you.

You smiled back as you shoved a cuffed perp in the backseat of your squad car. “Then we get paid halfway decently for doing much of the same as we are now.”

“Plus, normal clothes! Not this suffocating police uniform.”

You agreed, then moved to the front seat, Drew sliding in behind the steering wheel. You and Drew were close, but you never crossed a line. He was engaged to his high school sweetheart, something that made you slightly sad. Sonny was your high school sweetheart, and you wondered how different your life would’ve been if you moved in with him.

*************************

As Drew predicted, you both made detective later that year. You were officially the youngest detective, having moved up the ranks so quickly. You both went out for drinks to celebrate, and you had the wild impulse to invite Sonny. It had been almost a year since you broke up, and you could finally think about it without tearing up. But would he be okay with it? You fought the idea, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“Everything okay?” Drew asked, seeing the look on your face.

You shot him a fake smile. “Fine, fine. Just…thinking. Don’t worry about it.”

He gave you a hard, knowing look, as if he could read your mind. You had told him about Sonny, but you didn’t want to bring the celebration down. Instead, you took your glass and cheers him before taking a sip.

You jumped when your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket. Your Captain’s name flashed across the screen, and you answered with a brisk voice. Drew watched and listened, then sighed when you said that you were both on your way.

“What do we got?” he asked, putting money on the table and standing.

You pulled your jacket on, heading for the door. “Body found in Prospect Heights. You okay to drive?”

“Sober as a fox.”

*************************

You both showed up quickly, seeing the officers who called in the body. Drew parked, and you made your way over. One of the officers started walking you both through the details when a gunshot rang out from down the alley that the body was in. Instinct took over as you hid behind a wall of the building, grabbing the closest officer to you and pulling them with you. Gunshots echoed in the alleyway as someone—or someones—unloaded on the entrance to the alley.

Drew was on the other side of the alleyway, and one of the officers was flat on their back, blood leaking from a bullet hole in their head. You ordered the officer next to you to call for backup, then waited until the gunfire stopped. Taking a chance, you snuck a quick peak. There were three individuals at the end of the alley, making their way quickly towards you.

You motioned to Drew, letting him know, before you reached your hand around the corner, firing blindly in an attempt to at least slow their advance. With the cover fire, Drew came halfway around the wall, actually aiming his gun as he fired.

“You got one of them,” he informed you. He got a few shots off before a bullet went through his neck, knocking him off his feet.

“Drew!” you screamed before whipping around the wall, shooting with deadly precision. There was only one man still standing—Drew must’ve got one before going down—and you shot him quickly. Then you dropped to your knees by Drew’s rasping form. You ripped off your jacket, pressing it to the bloody wound.

“Stay with me Drew, do you hear me? You have a fiancée to go home to,” you ordered, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Call a bus!” you yelled at the officer, who was staring in shock.

Drew reached up, grabbing your wrist. “T-tell Steph I—I love her…please,” he gasped, voice weak.

“You’re going to tell her yourself when you see her, okay?” you said, trying to smile at him.

He shook his head. “Tell her…please. I-I—” Drew let out a death rattle before laying still.

“No! No! Live, damn you! You can’t die on me, Drew! W-we’re partners!” you screamed. But he was gone. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you leaned over him.

Time meant nothing as you knelt there. You had no idea when the ambulance arrived, nor when your Captain showed up. You’re not sure who moved you away from Drew’s lifeless body, and you didn’t notice how you ended up at the hospital. You were still covered in Drew’s blood as the nurses ran tests, making sure you were uninjured. Your Captain ordered you to take time off, and you didn’t hear him, didn’t argue. You blinked and you were home, sitting on your couch, a bottle of whiskey in front of you.

***************************

IAB had been delayed by your Captain, but eventually, you had to face them. You couldn’t recall what they asked, or what you answered. The first emotion you felt in days was fleeting anger; the body that you had been called to investigate was left as bait. The men who shot at you, who killed your partner and an officer, were part of a gang, attempting to become cop killers. It was all a ruse to kill whichever cops arrived on the scene. Drew, one of the nicest, most genuine people you’ve known, was killed for street cred. But your anger soon disappeared, just like everything else.

***************************

It had been a week since Drew died in your arms. You visited his fiancée—she had already been informed of her love’s death—but you had to see her, pass on his final words. You held her as she cried, but you had no tears left. You felt nothing; you were just a shell. You stopped eating, stopped showering, stopped drinking, even water. You stopped sleeping; you just passed out nowadays, at any and all times of the day, wherever you happened to be laying. Your Captain called you a few times, trying to get you into therapy, but you never left your apartment.

One night, there was a knock on your door. You moved on phantom feet, unlocking and pulling your door open. You felt a dull punch to the gut as Sonny stood on your doorstep.

“H-hey doll…. I heard about your partner, and I thought I’d check up on you,” he said softly.

You nodded, not even attempting to fake a smile. “I’m fine,” you said in a monotone voice, ready to close the door on him. But Sonny was quicker.

“No, you’re not.” And with that, he pushed into your home. “When was the last time you’ve eaten? Washed? Brushed your teeth? Anything?”

You had no answer for him, and he quickly went to your kitchen, pulling open your fridge. Normally, you’d follow him, but instead, you went and collapsed on your couch, your legs unable to hold you up anymore.

Sonny came out with a glass of water. “Drink that,” he ordered, then stood there until you did. “Most of your food has gone bad; I’m going to run to the store. While I’m gone, I want you to shower, okay?”

You didn’t nod, made no indication that you had heard him. He ran a hand through his hair, hating seeing you like this.

“Okay…if you can shower, please do. Otherwise, just at least…drink another glass of water, okay?” He took the glass from your hand, refilled it, then came back and handed it to you. “I’ll be right back.”

You were unsure for how long he was gone; you dimly heard him come back. Sonny went to your kitchen with full grocery bags, and soon, the sounds and smells of cooking emanated from within. He came out soon after—or maybe it was longer, who knows?—with a plate of food.

When he noticed the full glass of water in your hand still, he shook his head, then sat next to you. You didn’t fight him as he fed you small bites, nor as he raised the glass of water to your lips. You tasted nothing as you ate half the plate. Sonny was afraid to make you sick with too much food at once, so he put the rest back in the kitchen. Then, he pulled you to the bathroom. He undressed you, then himself, before guiding you into the shower. The hot water brought you partly to your senses, just enough to feel Sonny’s hands washing your hair and body.

“You may have to get your hair cut short—it’s pretty damaged from lack of care,” he muttered, trying to work the knots out with his fingers. You nodded gently, letting him care for you. Once done, he wrapped you in a towel, patting you dry. Then, he took your toothbrush and put paste on it before handing it to you, lifting your hand to your mouth.

“Brush,” he softly ordered, and you did.

After finishing up in the bathroom, Sonny tugged you to your room, where he dressed you in your pajamas. Then he pushed you down into the bed.

“Sleep, okay? I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep,” he promised.

You laid on the pillow, and fresh tears came to your eyes. “He died in my arms,” you muttered.

Sonny’s expression softened. “I heard, doll. There was nothing more you could’ve done. Just rest now.”

As promised, he sat next to you until you drifted off, your hand in his.

*******************************

Sonny practically moved in with you after that, just until you could take care of yourself. He took you to a therapist, and a hair salon. He made you meals and made sure you drank water. At first, he would shower with you and made sure you brushed your teeth; those were the two things you started doing yourself the quickest. It took you a few weeks to break out of the shock-induced disassociation you were experiencing. Eventually, you started helping Sonny cook in your kitchen, and doing small chores around your apartment.

“Thank you, Sonny, for everything,” you said one night while you were eating dinner.

He smiled at you. “Of course, doll. I care about you.”

“I care about you, too. I—I should’ve called you earlier. I was just afraid that it was too soon.”

His smile faltered slightly. “I understand. I…it’s probably still too soon….”

“What do you mean?”

Sonny put his fork down, looking everywhere but at you. “Look, I’ve…I thought that enough time had passed, especially when I heard about your partner—” you flinched at the mention of Drew— “but when you opened the door and I saw how much it affected you, I realized that…I still love you, have always loved you. You were literally wasting away, and I couldn’t stand by and watch.”

You froze, not in shock at him, but at yourself. Because hearing the words out loud, you knew that you loved him, too.

“I’m sorry; you don’t need this right now. The last thing you need on your mind is—”

“I love you, too, Sonny. God, I love you so much,” you replied, throwing your arms around him, and leaning against his side.

He hesitated a moment before he wrapped an arm around your back. “Are ya sure? You’re going through some pretty traumatic stuff right now. Your emotions going a little haywire.”

“I’m sure. I-I was afraid to call you because I couldn’t handle seeing you. Because I never got over you.”

Sonny nodded. “I never got over you, either. Look, if you still want your space, I can live with that, as long as I don’t lose you again. I never want to lose you again.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either. I love you; I want to marry you one day. Let’s just…see how it goes, okay? I’ve learned a lot just in the year we’ve been apart—”

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips soft against yours. He felt so familiar, so much like home, and you realized how much you had really missed him. You kissed him back, holding him to you. He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing over yours.

“We’ll figure out the details later. Right now, I just want to get to know you again,” he breathed.

You nodded. “Please, yes. I want to remember you, Dominick.”

He pulled you closer, promising his whole self to you in a searing kiss.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfics #fanfic #my writing

[pyrrhiccomedy]

Hello ☺️, I’ve heard from your lovely lady companion Emily that you’re a very seasoned DM! I was wondering if you had any advice for beginners to DMing when it comes to things like improvising and making sure your first session has an impact on the players as their introduction to the world. Any advice at all would be a lifesaver! Thank you ☺️✌🏻

holy shit, a question about DMing. you have freed me, stranger. I can stop blogging about Troy (2004). 

First of all, I’m really excited to hear that you’re going to be DMing for the first time! DMing is understandably intimidating, but it’s also incredibly creatively fulfilling, and it’s something you’ll still be learning how to do better after 25 years. 

Okay, so let’s talk about session 1.

Your first session has a lot of lifting to do. You want to make an emotional impact, you want your players to learn about the world, you want to convey tone and genre, and you want your PCs to have a chance to band together and form quick connections.

I really can’t say enough good things about session 1 being about An Escape, because an escape scenario immediately poses a whole bunch of really valuable questions.

What is a crime in this world?

Who are your natural adversaries?

Why should you trust & rely upon your new party members?

What is violence like in this game? This says a lot about your game’s tone.

What will the next few sessions be about?

Literally, in 3 of the last 4 campaigns I’ve run, session one was An Escape. I’ll walk you through the set-ups for 2 of them (the third is a one-on-one campaign, so maybe not as useful to you).

In Vampire: the Masquerade, the party (all vampires) woke up staked to the ground in the basement of an abandoned school, captives of the fanatical inquisitorial group, the Society of Leopold. None of them had met each other before, all of them were confused, angry, scared, and low on blood.

What is a crime in this world?

Just being a vampire is a crime. You can be brutally attacked, captured, and murdered for being what you are. Your only recourse is to fight for your life.

Who are your natural adversaries?

Vampire hunters. They are not as strong or as fast as you, but they have dirty tricks up their sleeves and fanatical conviction on their side, and they do not see you as human.

Why should you trust & rely upon your new party members?

Without them, you will not escape your predicament. You know you can trust them because you have a common enemy. Each of them will have a chance to solve a problem with a unique skill that you do not possess, driving home that you can solve dangerous problems together that you could not overcome on your own. 

What is violence like in this game? This says a lot about your game’s tone.

Fast, flashy, bloody, and dark. Descriptions of injuries are savage; heads get torn off, chests get ripped open, shadows pinwheel wildly as the sole hanging light in the ceiling gets knocked around amidst the violence. But there’s a slick cool to all of it. You are in real danger, but you are also capable of dealing out grievous and acrobatic harm.

What will the next few sessions be about?

Upon your escape, the Prince of the city charged you all with seeking out the leaders of the hunters. Best not to disappoint him.

In my Call of Cthulhu campaign, the characters were all prisoners on a bus to the gulag, in Russia in 1938.

What is a crime in this world?

Literally anything, if you have displeased the wrong people. One of you received a letter you shouldn’t have seen. Another one wrote seditious poetry. Another was rude to a secret police officer during an investigation. Another literally has no idea why he’s here. There is a cold, kafkaesque indifference to the notion of fairness in this world. You have been disenfranchised and shipped off to do hard labor for almost nothing at all. Do not bother to look for reason in the machinations of the state.

Who are your natural adversaries?

The NKVD. They are all-powerful, all-seeing, and brutal. They could kill every last one of you right here in the snow, and so long as they filed the correct paperwork afterwards, there will be no follow up investigation. They have the key to the vehicles, they have warm clothes, they have all of the guns, they have the radio that is your only way of contacting the outside world. You don’t even have coats that will keep out the freezing wind. If you want what you need to escape this place, you will have to take it from them.

Why should you trust & rely upon your new party members?

You will be shot, if you try to escape alone. The tundra is vast and the NKVD are always watching. Your only hope is to cause confusion and hope that your numbers count for more than your jailers’ guns. And once you’re out, into Siberia? conditions are so hostile you have no choice but to band together for survival.

What is violence like in this game? This says a lot about your game’s tone.

Almost instantly fatal. You are shown fellow prisoners (NPCs) get headshot by the NKVD captain and drop to the ground, dead. Another NPC has a broken leg, and cannot participate in combat at all. If you get hurt, that’s it. There are no health potions or magic spells that will mitigate the effects of bullets and the biting wind.

What will the next few sessions be about?

As you escaped, you saw strange apparitions across the snow, which caused the radio to malfunction. You are fleeing in your stolen truck from the NKVD, but where are you going? Where can you go, except towards the mystery?

Escapes are great, too, because as a DM, your list of things you need to prepare is pretty concrete. You need:

- Mooks

- A boss for the mooks

- a map of the immediate area, so your players know what avenues of potential escape they have

- a couple of NPC fellow prisoners for them to talk to & for you to kill along the way (alternately, this can be a great way to link the party up with future quest-givers straight from the jump).

- A list of possible resources to aid in their escape that they might be able to get their hands on (a fire axe? a radio? a car?)

- A couple of ideas for spanners to throw in the works (if things are too easy/going too quickly, maybe this NPC fellow prisoner turns on them, hoping to curry favor with the NKVD; maybe one of the hunters has a flamethrower to force the vampires to double back; maybe it starts to snow with white-out conditions, maybe something is being filmed right outside and the vampires can’t bust through the steel doors without potentially breaking the Masquerade).

Another great thing about escapes is that they’re geographically isolated. So you don’t need to have The Entire Starting Zone figured out from session 1: you just need to know about this one truck stop in Siberia, or this abandoned school in Queens. When they gain access to the wider world, the session ends, and you should have an idea of where they want to go next.

And if any of their captors survive, you may have an act 1 villain on your hands. Don’t get too attached to the idea that any of them WILL survive; but if they do, and the party bears them a grudge, find them a place in the story, flesh them out as an adversary. Your Big Bad means nothing to them yet, but Captain Volkov, the NKVD captain who pursued them across the ice like a relentless automaton, scares them.

Another thing I like about escapes is that they feel very natural. There is no quest giver; they have an obvious goal they can all agree on, and the obstacles to achieving it are built into the situation. It’s a solid framework for an adventure that you can pack a lot of worldbuilding detail into along the way.

Good luck!

#dice matters

[thesquishyrogue]

Rogue's relationships with the rest of the mercs

Scout:

Almost like a brother-sister relationship. They're always goofing off together, joking around, getting on Spy's nerves. Just being the chaotic force of the team. Scout constantly convinces Rogue to play baseball with him, especially after seeing that they both use bats as a weapon (albeit Rogue's has nails driven through it).

Scout: "Aw man, sick bat! Say, you ever actually played baseball? If not I could teach ya. Though, you should probably use a different bat. I'll let ya borrow one of mine!"

Soldier:

He's definitely sort of a weird uncle figure to her. She's always giggling at his ridiculous antics, and he's surprisingly protective of her. Although at the same time he's always impressed by her ability to fend for herself, and fight off men larger than her despite her size.

Soldier: "Hell yeah, look at her go! Kicking ass just like a true American! She makes me proud!"

Pyro:

Oh my goodness. These two. Rogue almost always puts on a tough attitude, especially around the other guys. But around Pyro? They're probably the only person Rogue will be a softie towards. They're constantly seen platonically hugging and cuddling, and Pyro loves when Rogue covers their mask in stickers. They always return the favor by covering her face. Once they come off she treasures them. The others will always comment on how adorable the two are, usually followed by Rogue telling them to fuck off.

Rogue: "If anything were to ever happen to Pyro, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself."

Pyro: (灬º‿º灬)

Demoman:

Their relationship is quite explosive, to say the least. When Demo isn't trying to get Rogue to try some of his alcohol (which always results in Rogue gagging and choking from the bitterness) they're always assisting each other on the battlefield. Mostly in the form of Rogue catapultng Demo's bombs at enemies with her slingshot. They always share a laugh when a BLU team member is blown to bits.

Demoman: "Boom, right in the head! Look at all that blood! Yer aim is getting better and better, lassie!"

Heavy:

Just looking at these two stand next to each other is almost laughable. With Heavy being incredibly larger than everyone and Rogue being incredibly smaller, he practically dwarfs her. He's extremely gentle with her though, and takes care of her in sort of a protective big brother kind of way. Whenever the team is lounging around, she's often either cuddled into him or resting her legs in his lap. He doesn't mind it. He's also let her beat him in arm wrestling numerous times. She knows he lets her win, but she still take the opportunity to boast to the other mercs about it.

Heavy: "Little girl is so strong. You've beaten me again."

Rogue: 😏😏😏

Engineer:

He's also like an uncle figure to her. But unlike Soldier, he's more of the chill laid-back uncle that she can go to for advice. And she often does. Sometimes when she's bored she'll go into his workshop and talk with him as he plays his guitar or she helps out with whatever he's working on. Even if that help is something as simple as just handing him tools, he appreciates it. He appreciates the company too.

Engie: "Alright darlin', can you hand me the screwdriver?"

Rogue: "Uh... which one?"

Engie: "The Phillips."

Rogue: "Uh..."

Engie: "The pointy one."

Rogue: "Oh! Yeah sure I knew that."

Medic:

Like with Engie, Rogue will often go into the infirmary to talk with Medic as he works (she also makes sure he takes a break once in a while and doesn't overwork himself). He also does what he can to help with her depression once that's out in the open, prescribing her any antidepressants he can get his hands on. Though when she first joined the team and he gave her her first annual exam, he was astounded by how many fractures and injuries he'd found that were just left to sloppily heal on their own. The sadistic doctor was actually kind of worried for her, though honestly impressed by her high pain tolerance.

Medic: "Goodness fräulein, this is the fifth fracture I've found! How are you even walking?"

Rogue: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sniper:

Despite having quite good aim from using a slingshot for years, Rogue was quite inexperienced with guns (not including when she killed her old caretaker at the end of her fighting days). So naturally, Sniper took it upon himself to teach her. He educates her on different types of guns in order to find what works best for her, and the two partake in target practice together. Of course, the two end up bonding during the lessons. She tells him all about her life in the ring, and he tells her about what life was like back in Australia. One thing that Rogue wasn't anticipating, however, was how strong the recoil of a gun can be. She was so unprepared she was thrown right onto her ass in shock.

Sniper: "Crikey! You alright there, mate?"

Rogue: "Yeah I'm fine... fuck, what was that?!"

Sniper: "Recoil, love. Did you not know guns did that?"

Rogue: "...no..."

Spy:

Although she and Spy certainly took the longest to warm up to each other, the two are as close as can be now. Once they finally accepted each other, Spy took her under his wing as his apprentice. He helps her perfect her thieving skills and educates her on how to take tough situations in stride. She really looks up to him, and they almost have a father-daughter relationship. And of course, when her depression comes to light, he's her biggest means of support. He's always available when she needs him and he does whatever he can for her.

Spy: "You make me so proud, mon cheri. You've captured the intel once again, our training has really paid off. Great job."

Rogue: "Thanks dad."

Spy: "Excuse me, what was that?"

Rogue: "....nothing."

Bonus!

Miss Pauling:

Miss Pauling is literally the first woman Rogue has ever been close to in her life. Throughout her entire childhood she's been surrounded by creepy older men, and even though things are different now with the mercs... they're still men. There are just some things Rogue isn't quite comfortable talking to them about. But with Miss Pauling, going to her for help with things like clothes shopping and feminine problems almost feels natural. Hell, there were so many things Rogue didn't even know about periods until Miss Pauling explained them to her. And of course Miss Pauling takes the time out of her busy work day as often as she can to make sure Rogue is stocked up on sanitary items, and whatever else she needs. Rogue is always extremely greatful for it. And while part of her sees Miss Pauling as sort of a mother figure...another part sort of has a crush on her. Yeah, Miss Pauling was pretty much Rogue's bisexual awakening. But she hasn't said anything about it, one because it would just be awkward and two because she knows Scout also likes her, and she doesn't wanna stand in his way (but little does either of them know, Miss Pauling is a lesbian 👀)

Miss Pauling: "Rogue, honey, you don't even know what a pad is? Or a tampon??? What- what do you do when you get your period?"

Rogue: "What, you mean that weird time of the month that I start bleeding? I just... live with it I guess? Maybe put toilet paper in my panties if it gets too messy-"

Miss Pauling: "Rogue. Come with me, I'll get you stocked up on the things you need. And we'll get you some new panties too."

Rogue: "But don't you have things to do?"

Miss Pauling: "This is more important. You shouldn't have to suffer every month just because no one ever properly taught you about periods. I'll help you out."

Saxton Hale:

Rogue thought he was obnoxious upon first meeting him. Called him a "corporate clown" to the other mercs. But, she had to  earn his approval in order to join the team, so Miss Pauling insisted that she be on her best behavior around him. But, even when on her best behavior her spunkiness still shined through, and Saxton noticed it real quick. However, that spunkiness only raised his interest. He commented on how he, "Hadn't met such a scrappy sheila in a long time." Truth be told, she reminded him a lot of Maggie, but he wasn't about to mention it. During their one on one meeting, he demanded that she punch him in the face to test her strength. After a short hesitation, she did so. Saxton was impressed that she actually hit him hard enough to dislocate his jaw and bust his lip, and gave her the job on the spot with the promise that she keep up that energy (and learn to use some weapons, of course). Miss Pauling and the mercs were shocked to see the two of them come back with Saxton's arm slung around Rogue's shoulders and his face dripping with blood, and the two of them laughing with each other. She took back what she said about him being a corporate clown. Although, the only thing she still doesn't like about him is how he treats Miss Pauling, considering how close she is with her. She has a mind to call him out on it, but Miss Pauling begs her not to.

Saxton: "Let's see just how strong a little gal like you can really be. Go on, hit me RIGHT here! Hard as ya can!"

Rogue: "Uh...Mr. Hale, I really don't-"

Saxton: "Oh don't wuss out on me girly, you want this job or not?!"

Crack.

Rogue: "Oh my god- Mr. Hale! I am so-"

Saxton: "Now that's what I'm talking about! You pack a hard punch for such a cute little thing!"

Rogue: "You're bleeding..."

Saxton: "Consider yourself hired!"

Administrator:

Doesn't trust her. Not one bit. She only respects her because she has to, and even then her "respect" is so shallow that anyone could see right through it. She hates the way she berates, overworks, and oftentimes gaslights Miss Pauling, and the fact that even all the other mercs seem to be intimidated by her concerns her greatly. She knows something's going on with her behind the scenes, and she's determined to figure out what. In the few times she actually saw her in person, Rogue definitely smarted off to her more than once, despite Miss Pauling practically begging her to watch it. The Administrator, however, almost finds it adorable. Almost. She kind of views Rogue as a bratty child. A bratty child with skill and talent that is essential for her team. And for that, she lets the sassiness slide...for now. Luckily these two don't butt heads often though, considering the Administrator is rarely seen.

Administrator, over the loud loudspeaker: "Well done, let's see some more."

Rogue, mumbling: "Bite me..."

#tw period mention #tw depression mention #tw medication mention #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 oc #10th class oc #tf2 rogue #red rogue #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #miss pauling #saxton hale #tf2 administrator #i hope this all makes sense this story is kind of a jumbled mess #also you don't fuck with miss pauling when rogue's around #she and scout are basically the miss pauling protection squad #well honestly the whole red team is but especially those two

[reginaofdoctorwho]

ok so i started this as a draft days ago and barely remember where i was going with this idea but i tried to fill it out a little more. basically it’s just that anytime Curt says he misses being a spy he misses being a spy with Owen or the spy he was with Owen. so probably everything is what everyone knows already

Curt ties being a spy with Owen. completely, intrinsically, whatever, okay?? in Spy Again Curt says “Owen would want me to do this”, and lists

hop in a jet and fly again

grow a spine again

do my best not to cry again

wear a suit and tie again

drink martinis and drive again

get by again

feel like a real important guy again

as what he’s going to do as a spy. let’s check off what happens before Owen’s reveal (i’m trying to include some)

hop in a jet and fly again

grow a spine again

do my best not to cry again (i’m trying to be nice here he’s probably doing his best despite what happens)

wear a suit and tie again (literally part of the mission)

drink martinis and drive again (he’s sobering up)

get by again (barely my dude)

feel like a real important guy again

which, decent, but our dude is also having gay flashbacks, messing up a very simple and clear mission, and mistakes flirting for fighting (to quote my friend “Amelie” “he’s,,, so bad at pretending to be straight”) this all being with him having been one of the greatest spies, to the point of recognition years after he retired.

and post Owen’s reveal

hop in a jet and fly again (we’re going to count whatever that in

grow a spine again

do my best not to cry again

wear a suit and tie again (i mean he doesn’t need it??)

drink martinis and drive again (ok i don’t know maybe?? he does shots before and THEN chases Owen and then he’s drinking whiskey when he meets with Tatiana)

get by again

feel like a real important guy again (look at him at the end

more below the cut because this is already long and it’s going to be even longer

Okay, to be more in depth, (this’ll sound like a lot of my other posts) at the beginning Curt Mega is truly a great spy. yes, he was captured by Oleg, but the entire interaction with him Curt is still in control. he mocks Oleg, breaks his fingers, hits the bat back at him, all while holding a conversation (and flirting) with Owen. he’s confident the entire time, he’s willing to go against plans and is overconfident to a fault. While Cynthia is somewhat rude and pays more attention to Owen in the beginning (”finally someone who knows what the hell they’re doing!”) but i think she’d treat him the same as Curt if he ever did decide to work for her. it’s partially a “bring in new talent” and partially a “keep the old talent from being overconfident” thing. i don’t think it’s an actual mark on what pre-fall Curt was like as an agent. but either way, their record was six minutes to get out of a building presumably set to explode (or implode. fuck if i know) and they were still both confident and eager to lower the time even more. and they would have accomplished it, if not for Owen falling. what i’m saying is pre-canon Curt was a very effective agent, was good at his job, and was likely almost never out of his depth.

in Spy Again, he’s talking about becoming a spy again, but he links this to Owen, believing that being a spy again would enable him to work past Owen’s death (”but maybe this time’ll be different, it might be what I need”). he’s haunted by the “memories” not “memory”, which could be taken as any time he and Owen worked together, not just when he died. he wants to be a spy, but even stating that and the things he misses about being a spy (above lists) starts to remind him of Owen (”and i know just where i’m goin’, me and my partner Owen!”). he sees himself post-fall, with his beard, alcoholism, and trying and failing to improve (”i do what i can, try to make a plan, to be a better man, but nothing seems to stick”) and again relates it to Owen (”Owen please, if you could see what’s become of me, what would you think?”). Curt decides Owen would want him to be a spy again (”i once was a spy. i think you’d want me to spy again”) and repeats it to make it stick (”Owen would want me to do this”), and that is what truly starts him off again. or so it would seem.

in his first mission back, Curt can’t start again. he has to talk himself into doing his job again (”looks like that someone has to be me. you came here to do this, so do the job, stop acting like a little pussy”), and then mostly rides along on what Tatiana does anyway (”i second that motion!) a far cry from the beginning Curt who did his job eagerly. and we are again reminded that Curt was a great spy when Sergio recognizes Curt on sight and says “is that Agent Curt Mega? ... i can’t believe this, the most famous spy in the world busting my arms deal. hey, would you mind signing something...” followed by DMA immediately being able to disarm Curt with ease, showing the contrast. Curt does recognize the baked goods are the way to hurt Sergio, but also loses the bomb to Tatiana

Curt is, at this point, still waiting [in a way] for a partner. it is not implied in the beginning that he and Owen worked together every mission, rather the opposite in fact (“MI6 didn’t tell me you were on this mission”), but he still seems to almost expect a partner, and goes off what Tatiana says even though they’re not working together, and they both train their weapons on the baked goods.

Cynthia points out that he’s been on an early retirement for four years, which Curt is very quick to correct as a grieving period. his hands shake during Cynthia’s drill, he fumbles the gun, and he has none of the grace or style of the beginning. when Cynthia mentions Owen and Curt’s alcoholism (”i remember when i got the call that Owen died and you lived, i screamed into Susan’s neck for fifteen seconds, then i locked it up and moved on. you on the other hand, you drank yourself to rock bottom...”) Curt doesn’t even look at her. when she poisons him, he’s still able to repeat back (in essence) what she said, showing that the spy of the past is still there, deep down.

Eyes on the Prize II is the (i think) first time we see Gay Flashback-Owen. he is notably not slipping and dying, as would likely be going through Curt’s head if he were haunted by that specific memory alone (going back to the “haunted by any memory of Owen”) thing i mentioned, but is instead also saying “keep your eyes on the prize” with the ensemble, again lining up Owen with Curt’s idea of being a spy.

during the casino scene Curt is clumsy with his acting, and is trying to get information from Tatiana (it’s all very awkward. “make it a white russian, hold the vodka, please, thank you so much” “excellent choice. one vodka martini bone dry, and one glass of cream”), but as soon as another person joins it (Dick Big), the relationship between them turns from enemies trying to get information from the other to an uneasy team (”i’m hardly alone, the woman and i were just about to-”), with Curt even giving a russian toast, and although Tatiana definitely notices when Curt is given a gun by the dealer, she politely declines to mention it, and when Curt offers her his arm while Dick is off finding a waiter, she smiles. and while it could be argued that it is just them working undercover, this did feel more genuine than when they are alone and back in their assumed positions (”besides, without that horrible face fungus, what will i have to yank?” “we are talking about fighting, right?”) Tatiana also recognizes that Curt is alone in more ways than one, both without backup and without anyone he can trust fully. in the short time they’ve been together, they already are close enough to friends that Tati apologizes for bringing him to DMA

despite the two of them being on opposite sides during this encounter, they are already beginning to act as partners/friends, and Curt takes her betrayal more personally than he should have

i’d also like to take this moment to point out that DMA almost instinctively stabs the Nazi henchman for saying “seems his noggin’s a bit dense!” of Curt

during Torture Tango, it seems like he’s having a natural reaction to getting tortured. Curt is nervous, he’s afraid, he’s ready to die (”you sick bastard, why don’t you just kill me already?”/”i can’t deny that i’m gonna die”). but this is NOT how the torture scene at the beginning went, even before he knew Owen was there. at the beginning scene Curt is arrogant, throwing Oleg’s words back at him, breaking his fingers, keeping a cool tone and staying in control the whole time. this time he barely talks to the DMA, he doesn’t fight back, he just accepts it. also, he sings “i once was a spy but i won’t be a spy again” and “thought i could say goodbye, but i can’t lie i wanna be a spy again” despite the fact that he is a spy again. he says he wants to be a spy again, but he already is a spy again, what he’s missing is Owen. he was once a spy with a partner he loved and could trust completely, and the partner felt the same way about him. that is what i believe enabled him to be such a good spy, he had someone who knew everything about him, being gay included, and he was able to act more confidently as a result. what he misses is less of the “go get the girl and go save the world” and more seeing his partner even for short periods and having the confidence that comes from being known. also, curt is on the verge of death and is still thinking of Owen (”doesn’t even matter if i killed my best friend”)

back to Tatiana, who’s having her own crisis. “is Mega my enemy do i let him die? i’ve got to think about my family ‘cause no one’s looking out for me...” she, at this point, has not interacted with Curt beyond the arms deal, the casino, and betraying him to von Nazi and DMA. despite this she still sees him as a possible ally, and ultimately does decide to betray von Nazi and DMA for him (to his understandable confusion). when she unties him, he only calms down when she holds her arm out to him, but he becomes so distracted by it and Gay Flashback-Owen that he doesn’t notice DMA is waking up until he’s already been shot.  i’d also like to point out that Gay Flashback-Owen is doing the same arm out pose Tatiana is doing while holding Curt’s arm

end of act 1. can i get a wahoo?

when Curt is with Barb, he acknowledges that he’s fucked things up, but still catches himself on saying he is a [great] spy again ”i was, i am, supposed to be the best”

i think during the gala he is trying to be the Curt from the past while ignoring why he was that way. he insists on going rogue, he confidently (and foolishly) announces that he is a spy, the prince will be assassinated, and that the Russians and Americans know, despite the fact that it doesn’t seem like a good idea if thought about at all. With blowing up the facility at the beginning there was some merit to it. they had been seen, they stole the plans and possibly wished to muddle why they were there, the facility might have had more plans they didn’t know about and they were already on a time limit. they also had a limit on the tech items they had (no rocket shoes :’( ).

when Tatiana rescues him again and takes him to his mother’s safe house, who mentions a “constant parade of drinking buddies, for poker or wrestling or whatever you boys do in the rumpus room” and while we could make an argument about Curt trying to move on after the fall, i think this youtube comment on the video is a fucking treasure and i will forever remember it.

i’d also like to point out now that Tatiana is truly the only character that i believe could “replace” Owen for Curt. he needs someone in his life who can know even the parts he hides from those closest to him, someone on equal footing with him, someone who doesn’t idolize him, and someone who works well with him. he can’t tell his mother, because she wants grandchildren, she wants a daughter-in-law, she wants to plan a wedding. it can’t be Cynthia, she’s his boss, it’s set during the Lavender Scare when he could lose his job for being gay. it can’t be Barb, who has an intense crush on him, and even when she does act in a platonic way, she is willing to risk her job based on the fact that it’s him (in an almost awestruck way). Tatiana is unimpressed with Curt when they first meet, they become friends quickly, work together to stop von Nazi and DMA, they are both spies at the top of the field, and she accepts him (”you’re cool with me?” “till the end!” “cool :)”). also, i think it’s interesting that Tatiana believes she is saving someone (her family) by leaving them behind, while Curt believed he killed someone (Owen his lover) by leaving them behind. just kinda parallels i think

before Doing This, Curt says he is is afraid that “[he’ll] never be the spy [he] once was” and that he believes he shouldn’t need anyone else. when Tatiana says he’ll get everyone who cares about him killed with his line of thinking he says the line “i already have.” explains about Owen, and adds “and that was back when I was the old Curt”.

during One More Shot, Curt acknowledges that he tried to get past missing Owen by trying not to need anyone else, which was wrong (“i used to think i could do this by myself i was fine, i didn't need any help“). this is him starting to take his friendship with Tati and being able to use it to see that while he cannot work alone, he doesn’t need one specific person to make him the man he is.

this of course promptly goes out the window when DMA is revealed to be Owen

however, Curt still calls Tatiana “partner” before going after Owen.

when he does go after Owen (One Step Ahead), he still thinks of Owen as the man from 1957 (”what happened to the man i knew?”). when Owen begins to explain, Curt tries to remind him of what they did “together. two of the greatest spies to ever live”. once again associating him and Owen together with being a spy

also, once Owen is dead (idk if i hope for real or not) again, Curt does make a change for the better. he’s able to be fairly confident around Cynthia, he tries to be enthusiastic about Barb’s tech/data analysis merge, he is able to talk about his “ex lover returned from the grave” with Tatiana. i do find it interesting though that he does not tell her about the other facilities, again taking it upon himself to fix it, and only telling her “give me a ring if you’re ever stateside”.

in a final moment, Curt is able to move on from Owen, and acknowledge “i once was a spy, i’ll always be a spy” with or without Owen.

#half way through my brain kinda shut off #probably because it's 3am #if people are right and starkid/tin can bros becomes the new shakespeare #some 23rd century kid is going to fucking plagarize this #i'd like to add something about ''it's meant to be because we're both spies'' #but my brain's already shutting down again #saf #spies are forever #owen carvour #agent curt mega #deadliest man alive

[marybethsjournal]

Flaco’s Rules (Flaco x  virgin f! reader)

Summary: You come back from a long journey without telling Flaco beforehand and he teaches you a lesson.

Word Count: 2624

Warning: smut (also the first time I’ve written smut so lmk if I should write more or not lol

Here is the story link if you prefer ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768013

It had been about a year since you and your brother had unofficially joined the Del Lobos. That was quite a long time to y’all, seeing as the two of you didn’t like to commit to other people, y’all had always rode alone. It wasn’t so hard to be an affiliate of the gang, however. You and Billy could go wherever you pleased and not communicate with the gang for weeks on end, as long as you brought money back to the gang and spoke to Flaco when you returned to the Grizzlies. The two of you weren’t exactly the typical Del Lobos affiliates, but you were quick and accurate with a gun and had never snitched before, so Flaco welcomed you and Billy into the gang rather kindly. 

This time, you and Billy had been gone for at least a month. You hadn’t intended on staying out that long, but a heist led you to France and it had taken forever to travel there. Upon your return, Flaco demanded to speak to you and Billy. Flaco always wanted to hear from you after your trips but when the Del Lobos told you that Flaco needed to speak to you, they passed along that he was much more tense, almost angry, than usual. Not much scared you in this cruel world, but an angry Flaco did.

You and Billy immediately set off to speak to Flaco in his cabin. It was a very short walk from the rest of the cabins, but the fear in the pit of your stomach made you walk much slower than normal. Billy seemed to have the same feeling.

“What do you think he’s going to say?” Billy asked you.

“He’s probably mad we stayed out this long? What else does he have to talk about? Surely he’s not calling us in to have tea, Billy.” you replied with a shakiness in your voice.

This apparently made your brother quite angry. His face went from fearful to enraged in half a second. 

“He doesn’t control us. He can’t tell us what to do. We will never be his workmen. We forge our own path.”

“I agree, but we accepted his offer of protection in the Grizzlies and he expects us to follow his rules, I suppose. Just try not to make a scene. I know how you are.”

“Fuck you, I’ll make a Hell of a scene. Just watch.”

“Billy, stop”

It was too late. The two of you had reached the door to Flaco’s cabin and instead of listening to you, your twin had bust through the door without warning. He always had been hellbent on destroying authority.

“Mr Hernandez, we do not have to answer to you! You think you are better than us but old man, you are far past your prime. In fact, my sister and I have racked up bigger bounties than you already. This superiority complex has to stop or else you will find a bullet between your eyes.” Billy word vomited at Flaco.

You had looked at Billy in confusion the moment he started talking. Superiority complex? Bullet between his eyes? What was this man talking about? Flaco eyes grew dark at the rude words and you cowered in fear, planning on what to do if Flaco tried to kill him.

To your surprise, Flaco began laughing. “Oh, the little boy think he can talk big to Flaco? He think he can scare me, huh? Puffing out your chest, thinking he is a man. You are pathetic. Leave before I shoot you, I will talk with the girl. She is more reasonable than you.”

Billy scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to, old man?” 

“Billy, go. You have disrespected him.” you said softly.

Billy huffed and puffed but he still ended up leaving.

“Now, what do you want, Flaco?” You asked. Your brother insisted on calling him Mr. Hernandez as a way of “keeping his distance”, whatever that meant, But you, well you had a sort of friendship with Flaco. You definitely had a soft spot for him. You didn’t feel anything but disdain for most men, but you liked Flaco. Maybe more than you would like to admit.

“You were gone for a long time.” he informed you, like you didn’t already know.

“I know, we didn’t mean to. We made our way to France for an art heist and we sure made you a lot of money. Would-”

“I was worried,” Flaco said softly, cutting you off. “I do not care about the money. Your cabron brother is right. You have big bounties on your head.”

You laughed lightly, not showing that you were taking his care for you to heart. 

“We can take care of ourselves. Been taking care of ourselves for well over a decade, since we were very little.” you told him, looking at your shoes. You didn’t like to open up to people

“You will have to tell me about that someday. When you are ready. Anyway, don’t care much for the jackass. But you, I care for you. How did your trip go?”

“Fine, made out with a lot of money. Billy’s cockiness got us a bounty over there. That’s a first for us, being wanted in multiple countries.” “Sounds like him.” Flaco chuckled warmly.

“It was good besides that. Ate a lot of the native foods and saw beautiful buildings. I liked it there.”

“Did you find a French lover? That is what they’re known for, eh? Love?”

You laughed at him. “I think that is just a stereotype. I was too busy anyhow.”

“Too busy for love? You have a lot to learn, but you are young and Flaco is old, so it makes sense you are not as wise. Surely you had boys following you around, though? You are very beautiful.”

“I guess so.” you responded awkwardly. Truthfully, several men had followed you around during your time there, yelling things at you that you were glad you couldn’t understand. You assumed they were lewd. It all made you so uncomfortable.

Flaco sensed something was wrong and, not knowing how to comfort you, changed the subject, although not one you particularly wanted to talk about either.

“You did disobey your part of the deal, though. You understand that, yes?”

“The deal?” You asked. You had no idea what he was talking about.

“The deal we made when you joined Del Lobos. When we gave you our protection.”

Oh, that. You didn’t remember there being any specified deal, much less that you couldn’t leave for an extended amount of time, but Flaco looked angry so you decided not to question him further.

“Oh yes, I do. I’m sorry we broke the rules, Flaco.”

“Do not call me that right now. We are not friends. I am your boss. You address me as such. This is a serious thing you have gone and done.”

“I’m sorry, sir?” the term felt foreign on your tongue. You didn’t answer to anybody like this.

“Yes yes. Good. You two need to learn. Your brother, I’m afraid, I can not reprimand because he will make me angry and I will kill him. Poof, no more Billy. But you, I think I can handle you.”

Handle you? What was that supposed to mean?

“I’m not sure I understand. I really am sorry.”

“Sorry is not good enough. I have leniency because you are young and stupid. Any of my men who would do what you did? I shoot them. But you are grown, yes? Old enough to know better?”

You and your brother didn’t explicitly tell people your age for security reasons, so it was a valid question on his part, although you felt you definitely looked old enough for that generally to not be a question. But you were pretty young and you looked it. 

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t be so friendly with you if I was just a kid. That wouldn’t be exactly safe.” You tried to laugh but Flaco’s eyes were narrow and so unkind in that moment that you decided against it.

“Good, then you won’t have a problem taking your punishment.” He smiled wickedly.

“What punishment,?” you asked. Flaco furrowed his eyebrows. “sir?” you added.

He smiled once again, but didn’t let his stern exterior go. He sat down on his cot.

“Lay here.” he patted his lap.

“Oh I don’t think so” you backed yourself into his door. Flaco stayed where he was and looked at you patiently. He wasn’t stopping you from leaving. This was entirely up to you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments. You could feel the immense tension between you and Flaco. Finally, you walked over and bent over his knee.

“Fine. I guess this makes sense. I did break the rules.” You were mostly reasoning with yourself, not Flaco.

“No, chica. Pull up your dress. You can leave your drawers on.” The request probably should have offended you, but you felt heat in your core at the thought. You tried not to show this on your face, however, and pulled your dress up before laying back down on Flaco’s lap.

“Such a good listener, you are. Wish you would have listened to my rules the first time.” his hand rubbed your ass through your bloomers before striking it abruptly. You yelped in surprise. What was more surprising was that it felt good. You’d never been spanked before, this was all new to you.

“Flaco-” you started.

“Shhh” he brought his hand down again, hard. If he kept spanking you this hard, your ass would be stinging for days.

Yet he didn’t relent. He spanked you seven or eight times, each one harder than the one before. Despite your best efforts, you involuntarily started to let out strangled moans. You cursed yourself after each one. You were in trouble with Flaco, not having sex with him. 

Flaco finally stopped and you assumed he was done. However, when you got up, Flaco pulled you back down by your hair. Ugh, why did that feel good too?

“You are not learning your lesson.” Flaco hissed, obviously frustrated, but at the same time it didn’t quite feel like he was frustrated with you.

“No I promise, Flaco.” he smacked your ass once more. “Sorry, sir.”

“I need you to pull your bloomers down.” he told you sternly.

“What? No.” You may be an outlaw, but you were still a lady.

He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him.

“Y/n, I’m not gonna make you but-” you nodded at him, signifying that you were okay with it. You never thought you’d be doing this but for some reason, you trusted Flaco. Besides, you secretly wanted him to keep going.

Flaco was visibly confused as to why you had nodded but had made no move to pull down your bloomers. After a few moments, he took the hint and pulled them down himself. You immediately clenched your thighs together, praying that he couldn’t see how wet you were. That however, was a massive failure.

“I think you need to explain something, mi novia.” he said, in the meantime giving you two hard slaps on the ass.

“I don’t know what that means, sorry sir.”

“It means my girl.” he told you in a soft, husky voice.

You shivered at the words. You wanted to be his girl. You wanted it badly. And he seemed to be on the same page as you. He hadn’t done this because you did something wrong and he felt it strongly needed to be corrected. No, he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

“I- well I liked it when you spanked me. I didn’t know I would, I’ve never been spanked before.”

“You’re inexperienced, huh?” Flaco asked, moving his hands from your ass to feel the wetness between your folds.

“Flaco!” you gasped.

“And expressive. I like that.”

“I’m just, oh! I haven’t done any of this before.”

Flaco pulled his hand back abruptly. He was silent and you, sure that you had done something wrong, sat up and looked up at him.

“You aren’t a virgin, are you?” he asked in disbelief.

“Ummm, yeah I am. I’m sorry, I suppose.” you got up from his lap and picked your bloomers off the floor, absolutely mortified.

“Wait, mi angel.” Flaco grabbed your arm. “It’s not a bad thing, not at all. I was surprised, is all. You’re a rough and tumble girl.” he laughed, but it was clear there was meaning behind his words. “Come back here, let ol’ Flaco make you feel good.”

You smiled and laid over him again, this time both of your intentions being clear. 

“How about you sit on my lap while I help you? So I can see your face? That should be sufficient payment for the pleasure I will give you, yes.”

You would have jumped over the moon if Flaco had asked you to at that moment, so of course you did what he said and sat in his lap with your legs spread.

You never thought you’d be here, Flaco fucking you with his fingers in his cold cabin (although you felt anything but cold at the moment). You had dreamed of it, sure, but this was real life. You had never considered that Flaco had been attracted to you, but now as you felt his dick strain against his pants, there was no denying it. 

Flaco fingered you at different paces depending on what he felt you needed based on your expressions. The higher and more frequent your moans came, the faster he went. When he felt it was becoming too much for you, he slowed down a bit, never losing his rhythm. He didn’t want to overstimulate you, at least this time. Flaco was good at this, surely very experienced, but you tried not to think about that. You focused on the feeling in the pit of your stomach and Flaco’s eyes, which were looking directly into yours. It was a bit intense, but it only added to the experience for you. He seemed to love it, biting down on his lip when you moaned particularly loud. At this point, his fingers were completely slick and you were fucking yourself back and forth on his fingers. The heat in your core was getting more intense and you were becoming desperate. You begged over and over for him to fuck you but he refused.

“No, angel, that is too fast. I have to come up with a way for it to be special.” More special than this? You wanted to protest but he kept fingering you the whole time, bringing you closer to your orgasm the whole time, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to argue back. Besides, a promise to get with Flaco again another time wasn’t so bad.

It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone. Between feeling Flaco’s dick strain against you through his pants and the swift rhythm of his fingers, it wasn’t longer before you threw your head back, moaning his name, and came onto his fingers. He smirked at the scene and kissed you quickly before removing his fingers. 

“You were so good mi novia,” Flaco praised you, before adding, “Now put your clothes back on before you catch a cold. You need to stay warm.”

“We can- we’re gonna do this, again, right?” you asked Flaco after you put your skirt and underwear back on and started to walk out the door into the cold.

“Like I could go through this life without having you again. Silly girl.” Flaco told you before picking up a piece of wood off his table and starting to whittle as if nothing had happened.

#Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr #flaco hernández #flaco hernandez x reader #f reader #flachoes

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight - Prologue: Before

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC, Din Djarin x OFC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Trauma

Words: 2000

Summary: What's past is prologue.

There's a new trend since the fall of the Empire, everyone is rising from the dead.

She's haunted by memories of the Empire that abandoned her, he's plagued with thoughts of what if and doubts of the future. The stars align in a string of constellations which guide them to their fates, decided long before them. 

Tortured with echos of before, they're alone in an endless galaxy. But orphans have a funny way of finding each other, and the gods have a sick sense of humor.

Read on AO3 Here

Tatooine was the galaxy’s own personal hell, Mustafar at least had the pleasure of fauna. Demonic nightmarish fauna that was more than likely poisonous, but fauna nonetheless. Tatooine? Tatooine was a barren wasteland that had gone to the dogs, and even the dogs had decided they wanted no part in its misfortune. At least on Mustafar she could go inside and be relieved of the heat, at least Mustafar could be considered home. 

Or at least it used to be, before.

“Maker,” An assassin mutters, crossing over a sand dune. The red tracking fob in her gloved hand sounds, it’s light flashing a similar color. To her relief, she was close. The sooner to the target, the sooner she could leave and never set foot on sand again. 

She could count the total number of visits to Tatooine in her lifetime on one hand. The first she couldn’t have been more than fourteen, then again at an older age to meet with the Hutts. Nine years ago, her father had sent her on a reconnaissance mission to some abandoned moisture farm. It had been terribly boring, full of memories of family dinners and old beaten up droids.

The irony that that very mission essentially caused her to lose everything wasn’t lost on her.

Five years ago she sat in the very cantina she walks to, warned to run away. A mere twenty-one years old—give or take, her birthday after all was a random day chosen by her and the waking sun. There was no telling her true age, so with her knowledge of human anatomy and development, nine years ago she decided on being seventeen.

“Why seventeen?” He asks her. Entering hyperspace she sits behind him, tracing passing stars on the window.

“Because,” she begins matter-of-factly, “Seventeen is a completely insignificant year to be alive. Sixteen is old enough that I won’t be questioned for traveling alone, but still too young to be taken seriously. I’m not quite ready to be an adult yet, but next cycle I will be. So I am seventeen now, so that I may be prepared to be eighteen later.”

Eighteen hours later, the first Death Star exploded. 

The events which follow guide her on a fragile string of stars throughout the galaxy, the culmination of which lead her back to hell. Or Tatooine, as the New Republic liked to call it.

Maybe if she had listened things would have been different.

Or maybe they would be worse.

Either way she would be here. The designer of her cruel fate and dictator of her misery have decided this long ago. Forever would she be trapped in hell with her memories.

And everyone else’s.

Condemned to relive the worst of what humanity had to offer, over, and over, and over again. It wasn’t so bad anymore, it’s easy to get numb to that sort of thing when your entire life was filled with it. Still, out of all the places in the galaxy, why did it have to be Tatooine?

She could understand the appeal for those on the run. Away from the New Republic’s oversight, moisture farms as the only viable landmark, and everyone being too overworked to give a damn. Theoretically it should have been easy to hide, the only issue was every criminal in the Outer Rim had the same idea. Originality be damned.

A detached hood and mask shield her identity, not that she believed anything with a penchant of life would be anywhere near. All that surrounded her was sand, rocks, and sand. Still, she could never be overly cautious. Walking up to the cantina, her eyes roll. It was like they wanted to make her job difficult. She could only assume the bar would be crawling with other criminals. Defected imperials, thieves, murderers.

It could have been a family reunion.

Eyes fall on her entrance, the suns backlight her into a silhouette. She becomes the one cascade of darkness in the light of the desert. 

“Boys,” she greets, walking in. Her eyes scan the room, there couldn’t be more than ten men. She counts the passing of ten seconds before one approaches her. Within those seconds her mind remarks on the state of the bar, essentially unchanged. Same busted chairs, same creaking floors, same hideous decorations. 

“What’s someone like you doing here?” a man grunts, stalking up to her. The most she does to acknowledge him is an eye roll. He grabs her arm, holding her in place. “Does your daddy know you’re out here?” he asks, leaning down to her ear.

She mocks a laugh. “Does yours?”

The man spits at her boots. “Bitch,” he says, walking away from her. His spit slowly rolls off her toe, leaving a glimmering streak along the leather in its wake. She pulls her blaster out, pointing the gun behind her, she shoots the man in the back of the head. He drops, his body heavy with a thud. 

The cantina falls to silence. Nine bodies are now watching her. No one makes a move, even the bartender stops his clinking glasses. She’s almost inviting them to try her next.

“No?” She asks, holstering her gun. “Pity,” she mutters. 

She walks up to body number seven, he sits in the same spot she had all those years ago. She places her soiled boot on his seat, grabbing his attention. Motioning for him to stand, she barely makes eye contact.

 Her fingers run across the tables’ wood, rubbing over permanent stains and rotting cracks.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he says. He always worried too much about her, “Whatever he’s planning, you won’t come out of it.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore,” she says. “I can take care of myself now.”

“I know. That’s what scares me. You’re not safe anymore,” he replies.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been safe.”

Seven stares at her incredulously, slurping his liquor.

“Come with me,” his voice echos around her. If she closes her eyes it’s like he’s still sitting in front of her. Pleading.

“I don’t like making messes inside, it’s bad manners,” she says, reaching for her blaster. “Get up.” 

“Am I supposed to be scared, girl?” Seven asks. He scans her appearance and truth be told she was no Rancor, certainly no Hutt. While her build was athletic, her height physically left her the smallest in the room.

“You owe a lot of credits—” Seven stands, “—That’s better.” She drops her foot. “Now—“

“Step aside,” a modulated voice speaks behind her. She catches a reflection of the intruder in the glass of the framed artwork above Seven’s head. A Mandalorian, covered in pure Beskar, stands a whole head above her. Of course a fucking Mandalorian would show up right now, this had to be his doing. Even in the grave he had to fuck with her.

“Mando,” Seven laughs, he wipes his sweaty palms on his trousers. “I was uh, I was just talking to the missus here,” he grabs the girls shoulder. “Say, now’s not really a good time so how about we—“ 

“I don’t have time for this,” the Mandalorian says. He drops a bounty puck on the table, in blue holograms Seven’s profile appears.

WANTED: EDI MOURI 

“Let’s go,” Mando says.

The girl shakes herself from Seven. “Listen Shiny, I was here first so move along.” The Mandalorian’s head tilts.

“Are you with the guild?” He asks.

She picks up the bounty puck, examining the emblem. “Not yours.”

Mando’s head turns to One’s fallen body on the ground, a growing pool of blood by his head. 

“Your work?”

“You could say that.”

Seven clears his throat. Whispers of bets trail within the crowd. “In fairness. She did find me first.”

The pair are incredulous in their stare. “You want to go with the assassin?” Mando asks, a slight twinge of amusement escapes past his modulator.

Seven’s face turns to ice, his deep emerald skin becoming a pastel like hue. “On second thought. I always loved the Mandalorian stories I heard as a kid, I’m a big fan. Let’s go big guy.” He takes a step towards Mando, the assassin pulls out her blaster, pointing it to his head. At the same moment Mando pulls out his own, pointing it to her.

“Drop it,” he says. “I need him alive.”

She cocks her head to the side, pressing her forehead against the barrel of the gun. “Do it,” she purrs. 

He’s motionless.

She grabs the Mandalorian’s wrist with one hand, striking the bend in his arm with the other. A blaster shot fires, Three falls to the ground with a hole in his head. 

Mando lifts her by her neck and slams her into the table where Seven sits. Her vision flashes white and she groans on impact. Her hands fumble across the wood in frantic search of anything to defend herself with.

“Wait for me, I’ll come for you in two days.”

She smashes Seven’s plate against the table, shattering it. With a jagged edge of porcelain she slashes the Mandalorian’s arm, staining the edge with his red blood. In his stumble back she rolls off the table.

Harsh stabs are swung to the openings between the pieces of armor, he easily blocks but her movements are quick in succession. He ignites the flamethrower on his arm and she flips out of range.

Six isn’t so lucky.

She lands on his table, he’s charred and slumped over. She grabs a baton resting against his chair, cringing at its touch. Jumping of the table she strikes his helmet. The tune of impact horrifically melodic. 

Brought to his knees, Mando grabs her leg sweeping her onto her back. The baton falls out of her grasp. They tumble on the ground, scathing for any advantage they could find on the other. She slaps a taser disk on his armor, the shocks malfunction the electronics.

The Mandalorian lays on the ground, emitting heavy gasps for air. Sounds of passing credits come from a back table. She straddles him, pulling out the knife kept in the welt of her sleeve. It’s metal presses against his capes fabric gathered around his neck.

A smile twinges under her mask. “Not bad,” she pants, leaning down over him.

The cantina doors automate open, in perfect eye-line, a green little creature. It waddles in, cooing with bright eyes at the patrons, greeting them all. It locks eyes with her, head tilted. The veil of her mask conceals her dropped jaw. 

The Mandalorian takes the chance of her distraction; flipping their bodies over, he straddles her waist, pinning her hands above her head. The assassin’s chest rises and falls heavy from under him. “I told you to wait outside,” he grunts. The green thing coos, waddling to the pair. It reaches out for her. “No,” he says next, raising a scolding finger to it. It whines, plopping on its rear. 

Past the visor, his eyes lock onto hers, he clears his throat. Suggestive positioning aside, he had claim to victory. Though, had it not been for the child he would have been a dead man, throat slit under her knife. 

He could still kill her, his blaster was in reach, so was her knife. 

He should kill her.

But he doesn’t.

“Hey Mandalorian,” she breathes. “Where’s your bounty?” Seven’s seat empty, table broken, shattered porcelain fallen on the floor.

“Fuck,” he swears. He stands, pocketing the knife she held. He picks up the creature, sparing her one last glance. “Stay out of my way,” he warns. Exiting the building she’s left on the floor. 

The surviving witnesses avoid her glare. There are holes in the flooring, broken furniture, blood stains splattered on every surface.

So much for not making a mess indoors.

She scoffs, picking herself up. Her muscles ache, bruises are forming under her clothing, her head pounds.

Carelessly, she shoots Five on her way out.

It’s a redemption of sorts.

Officially, Tatooine was worse than hell.

Chapter One: The Meeting

#Mandalorian #the mandalorian #Din Djarin #din djarin x original character #din djarin x original female character #din djarin x oc #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x reader #Starlight #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x oc #mando x ofc #mando x original character #mando x original female character #din djarin x female oc

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (7) Stick around

Summary: A little bit more back story about Y/N as she shares her story with Dean.

Warnings: N/A. Mechanic Dean?

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone who has reached out to me with your love for this series! Ya'll are the best! If you haven't heard Love of my Life by Queen, then go listen to it. Such a beautiful song.

Series Masterlist

I was up before Sam which almost never happens, but I was determined to get coffee and muffins to take over to Y/N and ask her if she wanted to come with us to Montana. Walking up to her door, I kept reminding myself to take deep breaths and not act like an idiot. I knocked on the door and I heard a faint “Come in.” Slowly pushing the door open, I see Y/N folding her clothes to pack into her suitcase. She had her hair up in a ponytail, with jeans and a hoodie on and I couldn’t help but smile when she looked up at me.

“Hey Winchester.”

“Hey!” That sounded too eager, tone it down, Dean… I cleared my throat and continued. “Do you always leave your door open for people to just walk in? That’s not very safe.”

“I just forgot to lock it this morning after I got back from the ice machine. I figured it was you or Sam knocking, but I have this bad boy ready just in case.” She reached over the bed to her nightstand and held up a large knife.”

“That’s not going to do much good if someone were to barge in here with a gun.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow at me with a doubting look on her face which made my heart jump a little. “Most of the time, bringing a knife to a gun fight is a bad idea. But most people aren’t me.” She spun the knife in her hand and set it down on the bed next to her.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” I teased and held up a small brown bag with blueberry muffins inside. “I brought you some breakfast.” My gesture was interrupted by the bag being ripped from my hands and pinned to wall just behind me with a knife. It took a second to process what just happened. “Did… Did you just throw a knife at me?” Maybe I should be concerned, but more than anything I’m beyond impressed and a little turned on.

Y/N sent a devious smile my way as she walked over and pulled the knife from the wall, catching the bag before it fell to the ground. “You sounded like you were doubtful of my knife skills so I figured I’d prove it to you.” She stuck the knife in the back of her belt and opened the bag, pulling out a muffin. “Oh, blueberry! My favorite!” How this girl can go from terrifying one second to completely adorable in the next is beyond me, but I can’t get enough of it.

I sit on the bed and she joins me, pulling her feet up and sitting cross legged by my side. “So, you got any plans after this?” I ask as she pulls a muffin from the bag and hands it to me.

“No, I don’t think so. Find a case somewhere close by, I guess?”

“Well Sam and I found one in Montana if you want in. We can always use the backup.”

Y/N’s smile fades as she pops the last bite in her mouth.

“I would love to, but I don’t know if I can…”

My heart sinks. “How come?”

“My stupid piece of crap car can barely make it fifty miles without over-heating. The trip here really did a number on it and I don’t know that it would make it all the way to Montana.”

“Well, lucky for you, I know a great mechanic.” I wink at her and dust the crumbs off my lap. “I’m good with cars. I fix my baby up all the time and keep her running like new. Let me take a look at your piece of crap and see what I can do.”

“Wow, a personal compass and mechanic who brings me breakfast first thing in the morning. What am I supposed to do without you, Dean Winchester?” I knew Y/N was joking, but all I wanted was to tell her that she never had to be without me.

“I’ll tell Sam to get a head start and scope the case out. I’ll stay here with you and fix up your car and we can meet him there. Deal?”

“Dean, you don’t need to do that.”

“I want to.”

Y/N looked skeptically at me, so I reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it for reassurance.

“Thank you.” She said softly.

All I wanted to do was lean in and kiss her and it took everything in me to stop myself.

“I’m going to go update Sam. Be back in a sec.”

After giving Sam the low down, I met Y/N at her car. It was a simple jeep, nothing too complicated and I figured it would be an easy fix.

“You wanna pop the hood?” I instructed. She got in the car and pulled a lever. I pulled the hood up and began looking. It only took a few minutes to find a large crack in her water pump.

“Figured it out.” I said as I shut the hood. “Your water pump is busted. Let’s take her to that auto parts store a few blocks down and I’ll have her up and running in no time.”

“My knight in grungy plaid!” She joked as she walked to the passenger side door, which I opened for her before hopping in the driver’s side.

Y/N walked across the street to the gas station and bought some snacks and drinks while I quickly changed the pump, then we headed out on the road. Sam had only left a few hours before us and I sent him a quick text letting him know that we were on our way.

We were looking at a fifteen hour drive ahead of us, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to get to know Y/N more.

“So, where’d you learn to throw knives like that?” I asked.

“Well, that’s kind of a long story.” She muttered as she shuffled through CDs, looking for one to pop in.

“We have time.” I was genuinely interested in knowing everything about her. I would sit in this stupid car for a whole week if it meant I got to be with Y/N.

I knew she could sense my sincerity and tried to repress a smile as she looked at the floor. “Well, you remember me telling you that my family died when I was little?” I nodded. “I kind of bounced around between hunters who raised me and taught me the ropes. I never really stayed with anyone for that long, though. Bobby kept me the most. I’m sure I was a burden on him, but he’s the only one who didn’t make me feel like I was, and I love him for that. But I always wanted to feel like I belonged with someone, you know? Like I just wanted to stick with one person and not have them dump me off with the next hunter who was free to look after me. I quickly learned that the more useful I was on hunts, the longer I’d stay with someone, so I decided that I’d learn how to throw knives. Bobby gave me this little guy,” she reached down and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a decent sized pocketknife, “and I practiced in every free minute I had. Eventually, I upgraded to bigger and better weapons, but this one holds a place in my heart.” She folded the knife back up and put it away. “Anyway, long story short, I got pretty good at throwing pointy things.” She chuckled.

“Did you ever get to stick with someone?”

She pursed her lips. “Not really, no. Once I was an asset on hunts, people would keep me around for longer, but never permanently. When I turned sixteen, Bobby set me up with one of his old cars and I went out on my own.”

I couldn’t fathom how anyone in their right mind wouldn’t want this amazing person around. “I’m sorry.” I shot her a sympathetic side smile.

“You don’t need to be.” I was surprised at her response. “People tell me all the time that I had a crappy childhood, but I didn’t know any different. I learned a long time ago that I can’t let myself feel deprived or angry about the past because that doesn’t help with anything. There’s enough bad that we deal with in our lives and I’m not going to make it worse by throwing a pity party for myself.” She cleared her throat and quickly shook her head, bringing a smile back on her face and changing her tone of voice instantly as she reached into the shopping bag full of treats. “Jerky or ding-dongs?” She asked.

“Jerky. I’ll leave the chocolate for you.” I remembered our conversation from the diner, how she told me she had a big sweet tooth.

“Good answer.” She beamed.

“So, your family,” I started between bites, “what were they like?”

“From what I remember, they were wonderful.” Y/N gave a sweet smile and reminisced as she gazed out the front window. “I was six when they died, so I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember my mom being patient and loving and my dad could make me laugh even on the worst days. I had 4 older brothers who were very protective. I looked up to them a lot. I’ve got some pictures at Bobby’s place. I’ll have to show you someday.”

“I’d love that.”

When Y/N showed me this side of her, it was hard to picture her as a hunter, even though I had seen firsthand how badass she could be. She seemed so vulnerable and kind, and I couldn’t understand how she could be so genuine after what she went through. I hated that she never had a true place of her own, and I wanted to tell her she had found one with me. It had only been a day and a half, but I couldn’t picture the future without this girl by my side. I wanted to tell her that, but how do I say something like that without coming off like an obsessed crazy man?

Y/N asked about my life, and I filled her in on everything. Our mom dying, our dad dying, me going to hell, and even things about myself that I wouldn’t tell Sam. I trusted her. Hours had passed and we had to stop for gas. It was getting late, and she volunteered to drive so I could shut my eyes. She had a blanket in the back seat that she gave to me and I wadded it up to use as a shield between me and the cold window.

Y/N played some music but turned it down low so she wouldn’t wake me. She must have thought I was already asleep and began to softly sing along to Love of My Life by Queen. I kept my eyes closed tight and listened to her, hanging onto every word.

You will remember

When this is blown over

And everything’s all by the way

When I grow older

I will be there at your side to remind you

How I still love you

As she sang those words, my head flooded with pictures of the two of us sitting on the porch of a small secluded house, watching our kids play in the front yard with a big old dog. I had never pictured a future like this for myself, but the minute I met Y/N, I felt a new door open for me. I had always thought that I would die young in a blaze of glory, but now all I wanted was to get out of the hunting life and live a simple one. Maybe not today or anytime soon, but someday. Was it crazy that I felt like this after knowing her for barely two days? Yes. Did I care? No.

My life had very few moments where I felt completely at peace and content, but this was one. One that I would remember every day, and the one that made me realize that I was one hundred percent head-over-heels in love with this girl.

Sam had already spoken with the police and the families of the victims by the time we got there. We quickly figured out who the wolf was and had him taken care of by the end of the day. We made a good team. I convinced Sam and Y/N that we should celebrate at the local bar, and the three of us were sitting at a table. Y/N volunteered to buy the next round and left her chair to go get it.

“So…” Sam started as I watched Y/N joking with the bartender. “You gonna tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That you like her, or whatever.”

“We’re not in high school, Sam.”

“Okay, fine. I just mean, I’ve never seen you like this before, and you need to make up your mind. We’re done with this case and she’s taking off in the morning if you don’t do something.”

I sighed and played with the label on my beer bottle. “I know…”

“I think we make a good team, the three of us.” Sam added. “Why don’t you, invite her to come hunt with us for a while?”

I looked at him skeptically. “You’d be okay with that?”

“Dean, she’s one of the best hunter’s I’ve ever seen, she actually helps with research, she’s fun, and you’re much more tolerable to be around when she’s with you.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll ask her tonight.”

YOUR POV

You, Sam and Dean had been having the time of your lives at that bar. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever felt like you fit in with anyone like this. Sam was so easy to get along with. You teased him, he teased you, and you both teamed up to tease Dean. He felt like a brother to you. Dean, on the other hand, was so caring and interested in you like no one had ever been before. You had been fighting back strong feelings for him since you had first met him just two days prior; feelings so strong that they scared you. You had heard stories about him from Bobby and other hunters about how he would reel women in, use them, and leave them, so you left your guard up a little. But you had a hard time believing he was that kind of a person. For some reason, you trusted him like you had known him your whole life and it was rare that you trusted anyone at all.

Sam was telling a story about the food Dean used to try and cook for them at motels when they were kids and couldn’t get through a sentence without splitting his side from laughter, which, in turn, made you and Dean belly laugh as well. The ringtone of your phone broke through the cackles and you pulled it from your pocket. You excused yourself and stood up from the table, walking outside where you could hear better.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N, it’s Mitch”

“Wow, hey Mitch. It’s been a long time. Everything okay?” You had worked a few cases with Mitch in the past few years. He was a decent hunter. Young, like you, so you got along with him better than older hunters who looked down on you.

“I’ve got a case in Idaho that I can’t seem to figure out. You free?”

“You’re in luck. I just finished up something in Montana. Text me your address and I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

You walk back in the bar, disappointed that you have to leave the fun. Dean smiles the second he sees you come back inside. You sat down next to him and he put his arm on the back of your chair.

“I thought you ran away, sweetheart.”

“I figured you could foot the bill.” You teased. “No, I actually got a call from a hunter in Idaho needing some help, so I think I’ve gotta call it a night and find a motel to crash at. I told him I’d be there tomorrow.”

Dean’s face dropped as you pulled out your wallet and set some money on the table. Sam gave Dean a knowing look which you caught. As you pulled on your jacket, Dean grabbed your arm softly.

“Wait, Y/N. Uhm, Sam and I were talking, and we’d love it if you’d let us stick with you for a while. If you’re okay with that, that is…”

You couldn’t fight the smile that crept up on your face. “You guys want to come with me?” Sam and Dean both nodded. “Well come on then. Let’s go get some sleep.”

The boys popped up, paid their part of the bill and Dean put his hand at the small of your back as you walked out, trailing Sam. Once you were outside, he moved his hand to grab yours, lacing his fingers between yours, which took you by surprise. “Is this okay?” He asked. Your heart was fluttering and your stomach doing flips. You nodded and smiled, squeezing his hand in response.

Chapter 8

Tags:

@panicking-outside-the-disco

@vicmc624

#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural fanfiction

[fancyfade]

I really like the way Hardware (1993) addresses the topic of superhero ethics.

Quick synopsis of the set-up: Curtis Metcalf, genius inventor, comes from a working class family and winds up from his perspective being set up to be the heir apparent to the inventor/businessman, Edwin Alva, who takes him under his wing and funds his schooling and, once he graduates, his projects. However Alva was actually just funding his schooling and appearing to encourage him in his endeavors so he could lock Curtis in a contract that gives him no rights to the royalties his inventions makes Alva (unclear if he has any like legal right as in copyright to his inventions as well I would assume not but it was not addressed yet). Curtis can’t work for a competitor either in the same field so he’s essentially stuck working for Alva if he wants to do what he’s dedicated his entire life to (inventing technology stuff).

Curtis initially tries to get some blackmail material on Alva so he can get out of his contract, but finds out Alva is involved in the criminal underworld via weapons and drugs dealing and smuggling.

also the character’s races are important to the story: i’m going to not comment a lot on this because I don’t want to be talking out my ass, so I’m going to just be like... relating things without commentary or sourcing what the original intent was from the creators: Curtis is a black man and likens what Alva did to him as slavery. Denys Cowan, one of the co-founders of Milestone comics and artist on hardware 1993 and the new series, who worked with the main author of hardware (1993) dwayne mcduffie, mentions that Hardware’s experiencse and the way he is treated (especially the glass ceiling) are part of how it felt to be a black creator in comics (link). (Back to the comic, not the interview) Curtis points out how many people perceive him as angry and bitter with a chip on his shoulder (Curtis describes himself as angry for good reasons). Alva is a white man who is too big and has his hands in too many pockets for the evidence curtis initially got on him to stick.

This is why Curtis created hardware: initially, his plan was to blackmail alva, when he finds out what Alva is up to he tries to send the evidence to the authorities because it goes beyond his personal problems with Alva. Then when that fails, he creates his armored suit (which he calls Hardware) to interfere with Alva’s operations and prevent him from doing more damage while getting revenge.

When he initially starts out as Hardware, Curtis has very little social life, he divides himself entirely between working his day job as cover for Alva, then working his night job as Hardware. he barely sleeps due to this. When he’s hardware, has a variety of lethal weaponry, the biggest of which is his omnicannon (which seems to like.. explode everything? he KOs a helicopter with it). He uses his weapons only on people working for Alva who are usually trying to kill him as far as I can tell. He’s also pretty unconcerned with killing them. He blows up a helicopter with someone still in it, shoots people, drops a guy he had pulled out from a helicopter from an unsurvivable fall, and cuts off a the arm of a construction worker who was holding a gun on him.

Curtis is more thinking on his end goal (getting revenge on Alva and stopping Alva’s criminal enterprises) than he is the means he takes to get there.

Pretty early in the run, Curtis is injured and found by his long term female friend Barraki. Since she finds him in his Hardware armor, he has no choice but to tell her what’s going on and she is disgusted. She views Curtis as extremely selfish -- she refers to it as him killing people “because his boss wouldn’t give him a raise” with no visible remorse. Curtis says he has no remorse period, not just no visible remorse. Barraki leaves and says doesn’t feel like she actually knows him.

Curtis obviously cares a lot about her opinion, because once she makes her stance on it clear he is kind of at a loss of what to do. When she asks him what he wants, he says he just wants her approval (also that she’s his only friend and he doesn’t want to lose her).

He winds up solving things as Hardware non-lethally for a while (replaces his omnicannon supershot with a neural net to paralyze people rather than blowing them up, tho he still has access to the omnicannon’s main shell for when he needs it), gives alva’s employees in the stuff he’s blowing up time to evacuate, etc

Then he has like I guess this... dream sequence? Guilt induced dream? Where he is seeing the people he harmed (the guy who’s arm he chopped off talking to him about his injury and losing his job, the dead bodies of the people he killed) and then Curtis talking to him as he is Hardware (like a his non-armored civilian version is berating his armored version for his life choices) and giving him a running commentary on his own life up to this point. People who are either personally important to him (Barraki) or socially important (a priest, Oprah) attack him for his decisions. Then when it comes to who speaks in his defense in his dream, it’s his employer, Alva, who created this situation from when Curtis was a kid to exploit him and benefit off Curtis’s talents and treats Curtis as no more than a cog in his machine (When Curtis initially approaches Alva for his profits, he does so with the assumption he’ll get them, because he had believed Alva to be like a father to him, Alva laughs at him and says he’s not respected, merely useful, and dehumanizes him by likening him to a dog).

Dream Alva’s defense of Hardware’s previous actions is that as Hardware, Curtis is doing what he was supposed to do -- treating other people as expendable resources in pursuit of his goals. So in Curtis’s guilt, he likens himself to Alva, the man who has been treating him like a tool.

I think this is kind of interesting because it’s something I’ve seen a lot in recent discussions of whether it’s okay for superheroes to kill people and one of them is that when you kill a person you’re not just killing that person. You’re killing whoever they were to the people who cared about them, if they’re looking out for anyone you’re affecting whoever they were providing for as well -- I think that’s why the initial person who appeared in Curtis’ guilt-dream was not someone he killed but the man who’s arm he cut off. There’s sort of this commentary on humanizing people I suppose with how the villain so clearly dehumanizes Curtis and treats him as a tool to his own ends, and then how we see Curtis imagining how the people he injured or killed while being Hardware might be affected not just in terms of “they got injured or killed” but also he imagines whatever their lives beyond working for Alva were. Curtis’s guilt is humanizing them in his head where earlier he said he had no remorse whatsoever.

Throughout the comic, there’s this metaphor for being trapped in a cage and then getting out but not actually being free (initially told through Curtis’s pet parakeet he had as a kid -- the parakeet flew out of his cage and tried to get out via the window, but only kept busting his head against the window, unable to understand he couldn’t go outside)

[image: 3 comic panels from hardware 1993 #1 showing young curtis metcalf standing in front of a window where a parakeet is laying down on his side with his  feathers ruffled. curtis grabs the parakeet gingerly in his hands and puts the bird back in the cage with a clang. his internal monologue reads “my bird made a common error. he mistook being out of his cage... for being free.” end image]

Curtis straight up says that his earlier actions as hardware were not letting him be free: he turned hardware into another cage.

[image: 3 comic panels from Hardware (1993) #4 showing barraki young and Curtis Metcalf standing and talking. Curtis is initially looking down regretfully at his hardware helmet. He says “I built the hardware armor to help me escape from the cage that alva put me in. Then I proceeded to turn hardware into yet another cage.” he looks at a parakeet that is flying around his house (his new pet) and says “see, Alva will make a mistake... eventually. And then I’ll put him away for good. That’s still very important to me. But it’s not going to be my whole life.” end image]

I don’t know whether the cage was supposed to only be in terms of how he conducted himself as Hardware or whether it also extended to work life balance (right after this he says that he was not going to make putting Alva away his whole life, he is letting Barraki in rather than pushing her away and he got the parakeet) and also his general view of the world (I already analyzed how he changes the way that he views the people working for alva). Either way I feel like the way that it was addressed was in a very satisfying manner that never wound up being preachy but did ask a lot of questions.

EDIT:

more commentary on the parakeet analogy from the writer of hardware: season one (the new relaunch)

The original Hardware #1 opened with a flashback of a young Curtis Metcalf remembering his pet parakeet escaping its cage only to be stopped by a barrier of glass, mistaking “being out of the cage for being free.” A brilliant meta-commentary, Thomas believes that it is “one of the greatest monologues in the history of comics,” and perfectly captures the entire story of being black in America.

#dc comics #hardware 1993 #hardware #curtis metcalf #barraki young #dakotaverse #racism #in terms of the comic commenting on it and the what hte creators experienced

[red-jaebyrd]

Somewhere I Belong

Once again thank you @acidulication for the inspiration with your lovely art.

Jason knew it was a mistake getting into the Batman’s car, but he gave into his moment of weakness when he was promised food, shelter and medical attention. He knew Batman was good to kids, he just didn’t know how Batman felt about Shifter kids.

The gash near his ear stung like a bitch and he was sure he had a cracked rib or two trying to help Batman take down those muggers.

“You know, you didn’t need to jump in the middle of that mess.” Batman growled, breaking the silence. “I had it handled.”

“The guy behind you had a gun. You’d be dead if it wasn’t for me.” Jason winced, holding his side.

“Yeah, and look where it got you. There is a reason I don’t like kids helping me.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Just hang on, we’re almost there.”

“Where are we going?” Jason asked, hiding the slight panic in his voice.

“I’m taking you to my home.”

“Batman has a home?”

“Where do you think I live?”

“I don’t know…a cave?”

Jason had been helping Batman on and off for a few months giving him intel here and there from gossip he had heard on the streets from mobsters, drug lords, and the occasional street person. Batman had been adamant that he didn’t need help from a kid, but Jason’s intel had proved useful every time. They had developed a bit of a rapport. Batman had paid him back in cheeseburgers and milkshakes.

But tonight was the first time Jason had jumped in halfcocked and got injured.

They arrived at the Manor and that was when everything changed for him. This was the night Jason found out that Batman was also Bruce Wayne.

Prior to coming to the Manor, Jason hadn’t shifted in a couple of weeks and it was starting to show. He could feel the itch in his bones and muscles as he tried hard to ignore the urge. He was used to the discomfort of the tics ravaging his body.  Jason had trained himself to ride out the compulsion to shift while staying in various foster homes. It had never boded well to shift while in Foster care, much less living on the streets. Kid Shifters were more likely to get trafficked and sold to traveling carnivals. He once held on for three weeks almost four. Hurt like a bitch, but was worth it to not get snatched.

The more difficult challenge was hiding his behavior caused by the tics from not shifting. His behavior had always either got him kicked out of people’s houses or provided just enough of an excuse for him to run away.

But he promised Bruce he would stay, at least until his ribs were healed. Bruce never did give him a timeline.

While Jason lay in bed recovering from his bruised ribs an older boy came bounding into the bedroom.

“What the hell, man!” Jason shouted, nearly falling out of the bed.

“Hi, I’m Dick. You must be Jason. Bruce told me all about how you helped him last night. Thanks for that, by the way. How are you feeling?”

All the words came out of the older boy’s mouth in quick succession without taking a breath.

“Like shit,” Jason snapped. It was best to have them believe he was cranky from being bedridden with busted ribs, than being miserable from being unable to shift. The attitude didn’t seem to faze Dick at all.

“I’ll bet. Well you are very brave jumping in like that.” Dick gushed.

The compliment seemed to take all the fight out of Jason. “I’m not brave,” he sighed. Right now he felt anything but brave. More like a coward willfully preventing his body from shifting.

“But you are, I don’t think I could have done what you did out there. Is it true that you live by yourself on the streets?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” Dick apologized. “Why don’t you stay here…permanently?”

Jason thought about it and quickly came to the conclusion that the option wasn’t up for debate. They would all grow to hate him once they found out he was a shifter.

“Trust me; I don’t think you or Bruce want me to stay here.”

Dick smiled. “I think you’d fit in perfectly. I’ll go and let you rest. I’m sure if you asked, Bruce would let you stay.”

In the first hour of meeting Dick, Jason realized two things; one, he liked to talk a lot and two he never sat still.

On the second day the shouting had started. Everything was pissing him off. The pain was getting worse, and the tics were getting harder and harder to hide. Jason refused to tell them what was wrong and why he was so irritable. He couldn’t voice to any of them what would fix him.  He hated yelling at them. It would be so much easier not to care about his behavior if Bruce, Dick and Alfred were awful, but they were great. They treated him so well even when he was being a little shit. This only made it so much harder for Jason to hate them.

He cried himself to sleep that night because a part of him was starting to love it at the manor. It was a place where he finally had a warm bed, got to eat three meals a day, a place he finally felt safe; just not safe enough to shift. Jason couldn’t entertain those feelings, because he wouldn’t be allowed to stay. Not if he slipped and shifted and they saw his true self.

On the third day he met Dick again, this time in Dick’s shifter form. Jason woke up to find a big panther with a shiny black coat and friendly blue eyes sitting on his bed. Instead of being happy and relieved at the sight of another Shifter, Jason’s heart sank at the sight. Jason turned his back on the panther that had been gently pawing at his hip.

“Please go away, Dick. I’m not feeling so good.” Jason sniffed, unable to stop his tears from falling. He wasn’t lying. He really wasn’t feeling good, but it was for an entirely different reason.

There was no way he could allow himself to shift now. No way would Mr Wayne want a scrawny, battered hyena cub living in the same house as a handsome black panther. The devastation and shame of what Jason was outweighed the relief of being under the roof of another Shifter.

Jason knew if he shifted, just for a little while it would stave off the rage and physical pain, but he couldn’t risk it. He had gone nearly four weeks without shifting once, he could do it again.

He spent the next couple of days in his room afraid his shouting might turn into physical blows. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, so he stayed away. He refused to let anyone in, especially Dick. He tried to contain his jealousy of Dick, but it was eating away at him.

Alfred tried to bribe him out of bed with cookies, but it didn’t work.

Jason was almost asleep when he heard a knock on his door.

“Go away, Dick.”

“It’s Bruce, may I come in?”

Here it comes, Jason thought. They are finally going to kick me out.

“It’s your house. Do what you want.” Jason answered, not moving from the bed.

Bruce opened the door and looked around the room and then focused his eyes on Jason. His expression was neutral, but here was definitely something on his mind.

Jason prepared himself for the worst. He just wanted to memorize the softness of his bed before he would be told he had to leave. He turned around in the bed with his back facing Bruce.

Bruce sat on the bed and placed a hand gently on Jason’s shoulder. The contact startled him but he didn’t brush it way.

“Jason, do you like it here?”

He nodded into the pillow. “Yes.”

“Do you feel safe here?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to live here permanently?”

Jason sighed, because yes he would like to live here permanently with Bruce and Dick, but would they want him after discovering his form? Would his form matter to them; like it mattered to some uppity Gothamites?

“Yes, but I don’t think you’d want…a…”

“Jason, I want you here. We all want you here. But most importantly, I think you need to shift. It’s vital to your physiology that you allow yourself to shift frequently between forms. You’re in pain, son. I can see it. We can all see it. Please, Jason. It’s okay. It will be okay.” Bruce pleaded.

By this time Jason was sobbing.

“You’ve known?” Jason hiccupped. “All this time, you’ve known I was a Shifter?”

“Yes, I’ve been a father to a Shifter for six years. I’ve been through this before.” Bruce comforted, rubbing Jason’s shoulder. “You’re safe here.”

Jason turned around to face Bruce moving the sheets and blankets up to where only his eyes were showing. He closed his eyes and shifted. It hurt like a bitch at first as he hadn’t shifted in a little over a week. He stayed under the covers scared to show himself to Bruce.

“Jason, can I see you?”

He sat up on the bed allowing the blankets to completely cover him. He waited to gather his bearings and reacquaint himself in his hyena form. It was all or nothing. Either Bruce accepted him this way or not. There was no turning back. He looked down at his chest and around to inspect his body. The tan fur was as matted as ever, but not as bad as it had been while he had been living on the streets. He couldn’t do anything about the brown spots, but they were far more pronounced now that he had been showering regularly. Still, it didn’t stop him from trying to quickly groom himself. He brought his front paw to his head to smooth down his brown tuft of a barely there mane.

“Take your time, Jason.”

Finally he responded with a soft ‘whoop’ sound unique to hyenas. Bruce slowly pulled the covers off him and all Jason could do was look down. He was so scared to meet Bruce’s eyes. He didn’t want to see rejection or shame there.

“Jason, you’re absolutely adorable.”

Jason looked up and tilted his head at Bruce. He could see tears in the man’s eyes as Bruce lifted Jason up to hold and nuzzle him.

“You’re so beautiful, Jason, why would you hide your form from us?”

Jason whooped again in response and allowed Bruce to hold him. He buried his head in the man’s neck moving it back and forth. Jason couldn’t remember ever being held with such care and tenderness. All his life he had been told that he was ugly worthless mistake. Is this what it felt like to belong; to be loved; to be part of a family? It felt good.

“But you are beautiful.” Bruce cooed, as he stroked Jason’s head. “Never be afraid of who you are, Jason. You hear me?”

Jason lifted his head and licked Bruce’s face in response. It felt good to finally be able to shift. His muscles unclenched and his bones stopped aching. Relief flooded his heart at Bruce’s acceptance and affection.

“Can I let Dick in? He’s been waiting by the door all morning.”

Jason perked his ears at that, because of course Dick had been waiting by the door. Dick had been camping outside his door for the last three days.

Bruce opened the door to let the panther in. Dick came rushing toward Bruce standing to his full height to get a good look at the “newcomer”. Bruce put Jason down to allow the boys to get better acquainted. Dick motioned to Jason to follow him and the two sped out of the bedroom toward the kitchen that led to the door to the back garden.

Jason was finally home where he was safe and free to be himself. At last he was part of a family.

-

Tim’s Shifter fic, Dick’s Shifter fic

#batfamily #batfic #Jason Todd #bruce wayne #good dad Bruce #batman au #shifter au #fic inspired by fan art #my fics #jason needs a hug #dick grayson

[gubes-sweaters]

Uninvited Guests

Authors note: So I have a bunch of one shots that I’ve had written for a while(including this one) but they were always just for fun and not actually to post anywhere. I’ve decided to edit them and post them whenever I don’t feel like writing whatever fanfic series I have going on at the time.

Content warning: none... just embarrassment I guess.

Word count: 1.5k

My masterlist is here

I love my boyfriend I really really do. If I didn't I wouldn't put up with his very demanding work schedule. If anything it makes my time with him more special and it made me learn to appreciate the little moments like now. It's a rare Sunday morning where I woke up next to him and what's even rarer is that I woke up before him. I stare at his face while he's sleeping so peacefully. Small cute little snores escape from him as I brush some hair out of his face and trace his cheekbone with my index finger.

I looked at the clock to see it was only 6:30 and I normally don't even consider leaving our bed until at least 8:30 on the weekends. I have a terrible habit of waiting until the very last second to get out of bed for literally anything which sometimes annoys Spencer. He claims that my procrastination stresses him out. Its probably because his brain is always going a million miles a minute. I think about closing my eyes once more until my alarm goes off, but right before I can there's a pounding at the door.

The abrupt banging on the door is loud enough to wake Spencer up. His job has thrown many curve balls at him before so when there's a banging at his door it doesn't take but only a couple of seconds to wake up. He springs out of the bed before grabbing his gun that sits in the bottom drawer of his nightstand along with his holster. He also quickly throws on a pair of sweatpants along with a T-shirt from off of the floor.

"Stay here," he says before there's another couple of loud raps at the door. I just nod in response because I was so shocked I couldn’t form words.

Like I said before I love my boyfriend, but despite him being an FBI agent I'm still scared because most people don't find Spencer very threatening. That's partly to blame because of his young age compared to most of his peers, but also because to most people, he seems like the purest of cinnamon rolls. Him holding a gun doesn't look right only because it doesn't match his very soft and harmless demeanor. Even with a gun he still looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly. Either way, he wants to be big man on campus right now so I let him go alone. He closes our bedroom door as quietly as possible before going to see who could be banging at the door so aggressively this early in the morning.

After a couple of minutes of silence, I start to get nervous. I've never met any of Spencer's friends because they're all apart of his team. After all, he wants to keep me separate from his job and I respect that choice. Now all I can think about is the worst, what if something bad happened to him? Who am I going to tell and would that be how I met my boyfriend's friends for the first time? What if he's been kidnapped and he's being held for ransom? A million outrageous thoughts go through my mind at once. I decide to take my chances and call out for him. I realize this exact thing is what gets people killed in horror movies, but I'm more concerned for my boyfriend than my own well being.

"Hello... Spence?" I call out while creeping out from under the covers and throwing one of his button-ups on along with my underwear that was on the floor after last night's events. Spencer may be lanky but he's also very tall so the button-up hit my mid-thigh as I crept to the door trying to hear any noise on the other side. I didn't hear anything but a couple of muffled voices one I know belongs to my boyfriend, but two other ones belonging to complete strangers. One was a booming deeper voice belonging to a man and the other was a bit softer but a still stern voice belonging to a woman. In a split moment of bravery, I swung the door open preparing for the worst. What was on the other side of the door was worse than anything I could imagine.

Three heads automatically turn to me. A very muscular man dressed in a t-shirt that was form-fitting along with a pair of jeans and a gun in his holster. The other was a raven-haired woman with bangs. She was dressed much more formal than the man. She was wearing a plum dress shirt with black dress pants and heels. My boyfriend with a pink hue over his cheeks looked at me in complete horror and embarrassment. All you hear was the man busting out laughing and the woman next to him trying to contain her chuckles.

"Oh... this is why pretty boy has been so busy and can't answer his phone. Here I thought he was just memorizing some obscure textbooks, but this I was not expecting." He says before using Spencer as a crutch so he didn't collapse on the floor from laughing so hard.

"Excuse him I'm Emily Prentiss and that's Derek Morgan." She says while making long strides over to me before sticking out her hand for me to shake. I return the kind gesture by shaking her hand and giving her my name. I get some relief because I recognize the names as his co-workers, but it also stresses me out because I just met two of his co-workers while wearing nothing but Spencer's button-up and my underwear.

"I apologize but we need to steal pretty ricky over here because we have a case," Morgan says before trying to control his breath from laughing so hard.

Spencer just looks at me with a very apologetic look before shooing Morgan out of the apartment. Emily leaves a lot more willingly than Morgan, but when they both leave Spencer and I let out a couple of laughs at the very awkward situation.

"You know he's never going to let this go right? He’s also definitely going to tell the whole team,” Spencer says before making his way over to me and grabbing me by the waist pulling me in for a quick embrace. I'm sure that this embrace was his way of apologizing for the awkward situation.

"Why did they even come here in the first place?" I ask while following him into the bedroom so he can quickly get ready and grab his go-bag.

"I guess my phone died and I normally would've plugged it in, but last night I got a little distracted." He says while jokingly giving me the side-eye.

"You weren't complaining last night about me distracting you," I return to him.

"You're always the best distraction. Now I've got to go because they're both no doubt on the other side of the door waiting for me to tell them everything about you. If I don't they'll tell Garcia and she'll no doubt find out anything she wants to know very shamelessly. I'll be home as soon as possible and maybe you can meet the rest of my team in a much more appropriate setting," He says before pulling me in once more, but this time by my face to plant a kiss on my lips then on both of my cheeks. He grabs his go bag on his way out as I tell him to come back to me in one piece.

"Will do. I love you!"

"I love you too," I tell him before he closes to door.

As I crawl back in our bed I realize that's the first time we've ever said I love you. I know it’s odd to move in with your significant other before saying you love them, but Spencer is the type of person to do ass-backward things like that. I also think we both knew we loved each other without even having to say it out loud. For most people, it's not a huge deal but Spencer isn't most people. It normally takes him a while to be comfortable with any sort of intimacy with anyone. Regardless if it is platonically or not simple things like hand-holding and I love you's take time with Spencer. I smile to myself and I can't help but think about how incredibly lucky I am while I drift off to sleep once more.

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Taglist: @rexorangecouny @haylaansmi

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff

[sp00kworm]

2388 - Start Log

Pairings: None

Warnings: Murder, Animal Death, Child Death.

---

A/N: This is based on some very vague headcanons I have about Revenant’s past and I wanted to write in a new kind of style. 

---

Revenant held the small recording in his hand, his metal fingers stretching at the alloy as he looked at the unmarked, thin chip. It was black and sleek, tiny in the scale of things, but somehow untouched out on that dust bowl planet. His burning orange eyes shifted to focus on it again before he stood from the chair and slammed open the door to the lounge room, leaving with a grumble towards Elliott who was on his way in. The man jumped out of his way with a high-pitched screech and watched him stalk down the hall. Revenant made sure to hunch his plated shoulders before he climbed the stairs and stalked down the hallways of the dorm area, making sure that none of the others were following him before he opened his room and closed the door. It was dark and dusty, but the Simulacrum was quick to pull open his drawers to find the one item he really wanted. The chip reader. He pulled the old technology from the drawer and opened the small insertion plate with a claw. The hole cover popped open and he placed the chip inside and flicked the holoscreen display up. The blue light was dull with age, but it flickered to life before displaying a blurry image and the option to play.

 In front of him sat himself. He had relatively short, blond hair pulled back with a fine toothed, ivory comb he remembered buying from a group of hunters. He reached to his chest pockets subconsciously. He always kept it in his breast pocket. With a growl he swiped at the play button and heard it click. For a moment it was quiet as the ghost of himself looked to the high window in the metal wall. He rolled his blue eyes and leaned back in the chair as the sound of a giant, heavy loader holo-vehicle roared. The engines seared the microphone for a moment before the assassin sighed and reached to undo another button of his shirt. There was a discarded head scarf and cloak on the chair behind him as he played with a knife along his fingers. The audio crackled and popped before synching properly and pausing. Revenant hit play again when it was finished and listened.

“Start Log. 2388. It’s been twenty-eight hours since I eliminated the target and counting. I’m in a safe house by the delivery routes back into the city. Shit hole of a back water place. Its barely a city, more of a god forsaken dustbowl. A place like this for a mafia causing so much trouble.” The blond man scoffed at the screen before the sound of a pistol chamber snapping came through the static. He raised the pistol before unscrewing the silencer and pulling the magazine free with a practiced movement, “One bullet to the back of the skull. Executioner style. I capped him in front of his latest little conquest. She screamed a lot. I got blood on my boot covers. They’re camel skin. I better get reimbursed for those.” He took apart the gun with practiced ease, the pieces set along the table in a neat, perfect line, from start to finish, “Anyway. Targets dead and I’m waiting for transport back. Hammond have left me high and dry again, for the third time this year. I wonder what I could do to get some more special treatment from them.” Kaleb grinned with white, perfect teeth, his cheek bones cutting an impressive figure before he reached to touch the scruff along his jaw. He scoffed at it and reached into his waistcoat for a long, thin shaving blade.

 The blade slid open and was brandished like a weapon, the metal flashing before he raised it to his cheeks and dragged it over the new stubble, brushing it away onto a small tissue he also had, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to talk around the blade. Revenant reached for his face and ran his fingers over the scratches in his metal cheek bones. He relapsed often into his human habits, not that he would ever admit it.

“I would get it if these guys were some big-league assholes, but they’re barely an issue. I’ve seen worse, but I suppose this is what stealing weapons will get you out here. The Outlands have never been fuckin’ kind.” He threw the slip blade on the table in front of the camera, “I’d know that better than most.” Kaleb looked the camera in the lens, and Revenant wondered if he had been speaking to someone in that moment as his lips twisted in contemplation, “Fuck it. It’s not like anyone will ever find this.” He leaned back in his seat and started to pick up each piece of the pistol, looking them over before he screwed them back together in slow, precise movements of his wrist

“The Outlands is a shit hole. It always has been since Mister Hammond decided to colonize it. Sand, shit and people killing each other. Its always been the same, despite what they all say. Murder, homicide and genocide.” He paused putting together the gun in order to open a small satchel, and pulled free a packet of tobacco and rollers, Kaleb continued to talk as he took the leaves and placed them into a white paper, “Even this shit was fought over. Hybrid tobacco with no tar. Cartels killed villages over it.” The paper crinkled quietly as he put the filter in and rolled it up, tapping the end against the table before he snapped open a metal lighter and lit it, puffing for a moment before he blew smoke out of the side of his mouth, “The Outlands are a cess pit, that’s what I’m saying.”

 His old self smoked for a while before he held the cigarette in his lips and squinted, getting back to work on fixing the last pieces of the pistol back together with a little grease from another bottle from the satchel, “But its where literally everyone was born now. Earth’s been dead for a long, long time. Including, yes you might have guessed, me.” Kaleb span his pistol and cocked the chamber before he slid the magazine in again and pulled a bullet up into the chamber, “I was born to some power plant family, or so the Matron said. Six months old and they threw me on the doorstep before the plant went bust and blew. I’m not surprised somehow, but the orphanage wasn’t derelict. It was funded for by Hammond. They took kids into the programs there. I wasn’t an exception. I was scouted at fifteen into the special ops program.” A haunting smile spread across his face, “I killed a captain at fourteen, that’s what got me enlisted. It got better though, guns were much easier to use than knives from the kitchen and Matron never did like me taking knives and running with ‘em.” He took his cigarette from his mouth and flicked ash off the end, “Kaleb where has the neighbours dog gone?!” He screeched, “Always nag, nag, nag that woman.” He grumbled as he took another drag, “She probably meant well in the end. Too bad what happened to her as well. I put a pillow over her face when I got enlisted. No survivors allowed. The rest died in the fire.”

 The ash was building up in the clear glass ash tray now, “The Matron wanted me to go anyway, its not like she ever loved us or any of that stupid holo-film shit.” He scoffed and played with his cigarette end, “I used to like animals…well, like was a strong word. I used to test them. There was a hundred stray dogs near us, so I used to take pieces of my dinner and see which would come and take it from me. Whichever dog came close, if they could do a trick, then I gave it ‘em. If they followed me, well I used to like knives, you can guess the rest. They’re easy to trick. Cats though, cats were much better fun. I could never get one to come near me. It’s like they knew I had a knife somehow. One came close once, but it got away, screaming, and biting me before it got up a tree. It stayed there the whole day sleeping until I got bored. I didn’t see it again, but I started taking rats and mice from the kitchen for them. They liked the chase I think, just like I did…Or maybe they just liked me killing the dogs, huh?” He let out a long, raspy, dark chuckle before he stubbed out his cigarette and looked at the lens again, “Why the fuck am I spilling my guts to a recording? I’ll be dead if anyone finds this…well, maybe I just want that challenge.”

 His finger appeared before he chuckled again and pushed his fingers together, “The days at the academy were boring in comparison. I wasn’t allowed out of the facility. I wasn’t allowed knives. I wasn’t allowed to do anything that I wanted. I choked a boy to death on the mat. The prick decided I was a ‘country bumpkin’, so I decided he wasn’t worth the air he breathed. He was purple when they found him. I was careful, I bleach wiped his neck and my hands. They never knew it was me, but I got harsher training for it. They suspected it was me, but there was no evidence.” Kaleb rolled another cigarette before he rummaged for a can in his bag. He pulled out an all-in-one shake from the pack and drank it down without so much as a minor twitch. Revenant remembered them. They tasted like milk and iron, “Otherwise. I do this because I’m good at it. I always have been good at it. Best in the business. I do the dirty jobs that others won’t because of morals.” He reached for the button, “And that’s about it. End log.” The recording ended as he blew more smoke out of the side of his mouth.

 Revenant looked at the black screen for a moment, orange and black optics spinning to adjust, magnifying in and out before he snapped open the port again and tore the chip free, anger burning his chest. He growled and crushed the chip between two clawed fingers. His processors saved the data and he sat back on a chair in order to move and hide the data from those responsible for uploading him. He didn’t need anyone knowing these things. The chip sat in his palm in tiny, crushed pieces of plastic and metal.

“The past is dead.” He muttered before he unlocked the window and threw the pieces out of it, “Its best it stayed buried.” Revenant growled again before he moved to his charging port and slid the wire up into his chasis.

#revenant #kaleb cross #revenant apex legends #apex legends revenant #apex legends #apex #fanfic #character study #my writing #fanfiction

[peachiemin]

underground | taehyung (m.)

| taehyung x female reader | fluff, smut, angst | art dealer!au detective!au |

word count: 24.3k

warnings: violence, mentions of blood, language, murder, dirty talk, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected sex (STAY SAFE), spanking, choking, multiple orgasms, degradation, sir/daddy kink (Taehyung really loves it), throat fucking

synopsis: Being a top detective gives you priority over which case you want. Choosing the file Vante with hopes of it being short and sweet takes a drastic turn each time you think you’re a step ahead. 

author’s note: I’m sorry this is so long. I truly got carried away. I have been working at this piece for over a month. I really hope you all will take the time to read it. This oneshot was based on a movie and it follows basically the same plot and I use some of the same characters. Thank you and I hope you all enjoy!

peachiemin: please do not repost, translate, or modify any of my work.

The soft sound of music filled the environment. Waitresses walked around with flaming drinks balanced on their tray, men dressed sharply and women hanging off their arms. The club was dimly lit, blue lights hanging off the ceiling and a wall full of special drinks shined under the light. To him this was nothing new, meeting clients almost every night, selling pieces of arts that were worth nothing but earning millions; it was his way of life, the way he pulled in money.

Thrumming his fingers against the table a smirk plastered across his face, his client unknowing of the three-hundred dollar vase he has under the table that he would be selling for three-million. Quirking his eyebrow, the layout of his escape if things were to go south planned out: His hitman, Min Yoongi, sat behind him, his ears trained to notice any signs of distress or keywords that would signal him to attack. Behind him was the back exit, the way he had come in and to his left, two of his clients bodyguards stood guard and his two hitmen sat to the right and left of Taehyung glaring him down and in front of him, his client Kim Dongsoo sat, staring Taehyung down as if he would vanish into thin air.

“Show it to me.” The rude statement made Taehyung chuckle.

“Not even a hello?” He laughed, “Rude but come on.” He grinned at Dongsoo’s bodyguard, patting the table as if the man was a five-year-old needed step-by-step. A low growl emitted from the man causing Taehyung to smile even more devilish.

Gently placing a thick leather briefcase on the table, Taehyung slipped on white gloves, wiggling his eyebrows at Dongsoo. “What a beautiful vase you have chosen to buy from me.” He smiled, the soft sound of the box unlocking as Taehyung flipped the latches back. He gently wrapped his clothed fingers around the vase, lifting it as the hitman placed the carrier back on the ground.

“The Pinner Qianlong Vase,” Taehyung awed, gently setting the piece on the table, “made in 1740.”

“Surely this isn’t some fake that you had someone paint acrylic over?” Dongsoo raised an eyebrow, his eyes trained on Taehyung rather than the vase placed in front of him.

Resting his elbow on the table, Taehyung cocked his head to the side. “Now would I do that to you? Clearly, you made a magnificent purchase from me last time I recall; Pollice Verso if I’m not mistaken—“

“A piece that you sold to me which was reprinted!” His fist slammed against the table, Taehyung fell back into his chair, Yoongi’s hand twitching against the pistol that was settled on his hip.

“You’re mistaken,” Taehyung responded cooly.

“If I should trust you,” Dongsoo motioned at his men, “then here’s the money you’re asking for.” His hitman placed the wad of cash on the table, Taehyung’s mouth drooling at the sight.

“When you trust me,” Taehyung corrected, “You’ll leave this club with an original piece.”

There was a moment of silence. Taehyung’s hand slowly came to rest against his side, the colt cold against his warm skin. However, the silence was long gone before the sound of a knife piercing through the cash echoed through Taehyung’s ear and the scruff of the chairs against the floor.

Yoongi was quick to blow the first bullet, dodging the hitman who quickly fired back. Taehyung glanced up, Dongsoo’s eyes glaring at him and if they could, he would be dead. Jerking the gun off his side, Taehyung aimed the colt at the one hitman, his bullet slicing through the man’s heart, his body slumping to the floor. The sound of gunshots rang through the club, people screaming, running, and all of a sudden, the table he once occupied was on fire and the vase he was to sell shattered by the bullet that whizzed past.

“Oh fuck,” Taehyung hissed.

Dongsoo was long gone, his bodyguards taking him away to safety but Taehyung could care less. His fingers quickly wrapped around the knife working it back and forth, the metal not budging from the wad of money.

“We have to go, Taehyung,” Yoongi exclaimed, sending another bullet that finally pierced the last hitman’s head.

“Hold on,” He grunted, finally wedging the metal out of the money and shoving the paper into his pocket.

Yoongi shoved Taehyung in front of him before exiting out the back, the sound of sirens wailing from the other side. Opening the door to the Audi, Taehyung slumped into the seat, Yoongi revving the engine before leaving, the blue lights casting an eerie sight.

“Well,” Taehyung groaned, pulling the cash out his pocket, “At least I got the money.”

Yoongi scoffed, “And you about lost your head too.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Three-million, hyung. Let’s go eat shall we?”

Your head hung low as annoyance spread throughout your body. You wanted to push all these folders off the table, quit your job and move away so no one could find you but you couldn’t risk that; the sound of the waves hitting the beach filling your ears does seem peaceful. 

“Please,” You cried out, “Please let me do something else.” You groaned, throwing your hands down in frustration. “I’m tired of all these drug and murder cases, I want something new! Something that  requires me to think.” Your boss, Kim Seokjin, only raised an eyebrow at you. “Seriously Seokjin, I can go outside and bust four cases easily. Please, I’m begging you.” 

He only sighed, bringing his fingers up to rub at his temples. Luckily for you, you were one of his best detectives. You had been in the force for six years now and you have outdone people who had been there for ten or more years. He respected you and to your request, he motioned for you to follow him. Taking you to his office, Seokjin closed the door behind you, opening the filing cabinet that sat right beside the door. 

“I have files in here that have been opened for years and we haven’t closed them,” He grunted, tossing folders on his desk. 

After tossing the last file onto his desk, he made his way back to his chair, plopping down before lacing his fingers together, looking at you. You only looked at him once before rummaging through the folders. Some had opened twenty years ago and had never been solved and some just didn’t seem worthy enough to even waste the detective’s time. 

“Find a case yet?” Seokjin smirked, his eyes following your every movement. 

“No,” You mumbled, tossing another folder into the floor. 

As soon as you were about to say fuck it, your eyes fell upon a thick folder that had been held together by rubber bands. Furrowing your eyebrows, you grabbed the file and began undoing the bands. Opening the folder, the name Vante written across the top. 

“Vante,” You mumbled.

“Ah,” Seokjin exclaimed, “That is one filthy art dealer who will do anything to get his hands on some money.”

“He?”

“Mm,” Seokjin nodded, “Kim Taehyung. Buys fake artwork and sells it overpriced to make money off of inexperienced buyers or has them worked on to look like it came straight from the museum to sell to experienced buyers, art dealers like himself.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What’s his file doing in your case file?” 

“He’s killed many of men bu—“

“Chief!” You jerked your head, another detective, Jung Hoseok, stood in the doorway, his chest slowly panting, “There’s been a murder. The government has asked for us to take over.” 

Seokjin nodded his head, motioning for Hoseok to leave, “Want to take this case?”

“I told you I didn’t want to work on any murder cases,”

“At least go scope it out for me.”

“Fine,” You huffed, tucking the Vante file under your arm, “but I’m taking Jimin.”

“Maybe this will be your big break,” Jimin, your long time friend in the detective field.

You scoffed, shutting the door behind you. “I highly doubt that.”

You scoped the area, police cars swarming the area. You both jogged up the steps, the surrounding officers blocking the entrance.

“This is official police work.” One grunted.

Sighing, you grabbed your badge, flipping it around, “I’ve been sent here to take this case.”

Scowling, “Move out men, there’s been a jurisdictional change.”

Smiling, you move to the side, a swarm of police men leaving the premises, Jimin smirked. It always felt nice to see men scold because a woman was taking over their case.

Once the last man left, you and Jimin walked in, your eyes falling on the spot that had caution tape wrapped around it. Paintbrushes scattered the table, art pieces decorating the room, dried blood staining the wood.

“What the hell…” You mumbled, glancing around.

Before you could say anything else, a woman walked in the room, her cheeks stained with tears, her nose red as if she cried all night.

“Hi,” She whispered, wiping her nose gently with a tissue, “I assume you’re the detectives that the government sent for.”

“Yes ma’am.” You sent her a warm smile, Jimin doing the same. “What happened if you don’t mind me asking?”

She sighed, “Miss Choi has been very distant here lately, recently fixing up some paintings. She had informed me that she was cleaning The Grande Odalisque; a painting that she said was dear to her. I come here every evening to help her clean but last night I came and her body was limp, blood pouring from her throat and the painting gone.”

You glanced at Jimin, his eyebrows furrowed, “Gone?”

“Yes,” the girl whispered, “Everything else is here but that painting.” She emphasized with a point to the table.

“Alright, thank you.” You smiled.

Sending you a quick nod, the girl turned away, her dress swaying with every step she took. Sighing, you glanced back at Jimin who was only looking more confused by the second.

“What does someone want with a fucking painting,” Jimin spat out, leaning his weight against a counter.

“I don’t know…” You mumbled, your eyes fixed on the table, “But, I think I might have an idea on who could give us some answers.”

“And who is that?” Jimin quizzed, crossing his arms, looking at you with disbelief.

“Just a con artist named Kim Taehyung.”

“And how is a con artist going to help us?”

You crossed your arms and made your way towards the exit, the sound of Jimin hot on your trail causing you to smirk.

“According to Seokjin, Kim knows his way around art, preferably the underground aspects of it.” You hummed, opening your car door as Jimin got behind the wheel.

“And what is some underground art douche going to know what we need to know?”

“His file is pretty thick,” You shot back, “and I’m going to use that against him.”

You grabbed his file from the floorboard, grunting as it plopped down on your lap.

“Ah,” You exclaimed, “Here’s his address.”

Typing the address into your phone, you and Jimin head that way, Jimin telling you all the things that could go wrong but Jimin had worries on every case, especially when you were involved. Once Jimin let out all his frustration, you found yourself at Taehyung’s address, a long gravel road ahead of you and a large white mansion sitting at the end.

“Fuck,” Jimin hissed.

Once the car came to a halt, a figure came walking out the house, his hair bleach blonde and his body dressed with all black, his right arm covered in black tattoos. Grabbing the file, you get out, Jimin following right behind as you approached this mysterious figure.

“And who are you?” His gruff voice called out, his arms now coming up to cross against his chest.

“I’m Detective ______ and this is Detective Park. We’re here to speak to Kim Taehyung.”

He nodded his head, motioning for you both to follow. His mansion was filled with artwork, vases, and small sculptures that resembled the larger ones you learned about in school. As your feet echoed down the hall, the man stopped you, his palm pressing against your shoulder, Jimin stepping up.

“Let me ask him first,”

Nodding your head, he opened a large mahogany door, speaking a few words before turning back at you, jerking his head for you both to come in. You walked past him, his eyes following you but your eyes landing on the black hair that sat on a leather chair, his back facing you.

“Have a seat,” The figure called out, gesturing towards the other leather chair.

Clearing your throat, you make your way over to the chair, your breath getting caught in your throat. This man, Kim Taehyung, was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His lips plump, his skin sun-kissed, and his brown eyes pierced right back at you, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

“And what brings a detective to my home?” He enquired, raising an eyebrow at you.

You smirked, “I was brought here because there has been a murder,”

“Ah,” He laughed, “what does a murder have to do with an art dealer like m—“

“Let me talk,” You interrupted, “A woman named Miss Choi died yesterday because of a certain painting she was cleaning. Perhaps you know of the painting; The Grande Odalisque.”

He breathed out, “Even if I did, what’s in it for me for helping the feds?”

“This,” You reached over and took the file from Jimin, dropping the thick folder on his coffee table, dust flying off the file. “If you don’t help me, I’ll turn you in for embezzlement, second degree murder with a gun, and hm, let’s see,” You flipped through his files some more, “ah, and money laundering. So tell me, Mr. Kim, I can turn this in and you and I assume your hitman over here can spend the rest of your life in prison or you can help me find the person who murdered this old woman and find the missing painting. Which one sounds better to you?” You raised an eyebrow.

He pursed his lips, leaning over and shutting the file, “Fine, I’ll help,” He huffed, “But I expect to be paid on my part,”

“And ten percent,” The man behind him whispered causing Taehyung to nod his head.

“Yes, as well as ten percent.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll meet you back at Jeon’s,” Taehyung mumbled, patting the side of the car before crossing the road.

After you had left, Taehyung quickly made suit and now he was here, at this dreadful library. The only person who might know of a lead is another filthy art dealer like himself, Kim Namjoon. Namjoon never trusted Taehyung, thinking the young man would short him out some money but Taehyung knew never to try Namjoon, for the man would burn his house down with Taehyung in it. He was a ruthless man, never caring what people thought; a scar running down the side of his cheek to be exact. Taehyung was never truly nervous around anyone but Namjoon, on the other hand, made his finger twitch with every movement. 

The sound of his feet echoed throughout the room, people scattered throughout and the man of the hour sat back, a wine glass in his hand and a scornful look on his face. 

“Ah, Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung hummed, making himself a glass of wine before making himself comfortable.

“What is it?” He growled setting his glass down, Taehyung smirked, bringing the glass to his lips. 

“Nothing peculiar,” He sighed, “Just had a client interested in a piece.”

“And what piece is that?”

“The Grande Odalisque,” 

Namjoon scoffed, “And what would one of your clients want with that piece? There’s only one in the whole world,” Namjoon stood up, walking over to the bookcase that stood tall beside him, pulling out a thick leather book. “And,” He continued, “The last time it was seen was after the Battle of Bayonne which if I remember, France lost. So,” He sat back down in front of Taehyung, raising an eyebrow, “I highly assume that the piece is gone.”

Taehyung cocked his head to the side, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,”

Standing up, Taehyung sat his glass down and brushed his pants off, “And what makes you so sure of that?” Namjoon quizzed, watching Taehyung’s every move. 

“Mm, I just have this gut feeling you know,” Sending a fake smile towards Namjoon. 

He made his way back towards the exit but he was soon shoved into a corner of the library, Namjoon gripping his shoulders, shoving the young man against the wall, a grunt escaping past his lips. 

“If I even hear that you have anything to do with that piece, I will personally ruin you.” 

“Noted,”

Namjoon finally let loose and walked away. 

If Taehyung’s file wasn’t so thick, he wouldn’t give two shits about this painting; nude photos weren’t really his style. That wasn’t the only reason he agreed to this case, you were solely another reason. You were beautiful. He’s been with many girls but you, you took his breath away. There was something so hot about a woman being in charge and if he was to be truthful, it made him kind of horny. 

Making his way down the front of the library, Taehyung glanced around before taking a quick turn to the right down a dimly lit alleyway filled with graffiti. Jeon’s car garage only served art dealers like Taehyung, knowing how where to place art pieces so dealers could smuggle their pieces off to different parts of the world. To Taehyung’s dismay, he had one buyer from the States, not truly caring to have any business with him but the man was money-hungry for any piece Taehyung could give him just so he could turn around and sell it for more. However, the joke was normally on him, the pieces Taehyung selling him worth less than what Taehyung was selling it for. That’s how he played his game and so far, he’s done a pretty good damn job at it. 

“Ah, Jeon,” Taehyung called out, his voice echoing throughout the workshop. Rolls Royce, Audis, Lamborghini’s and any expensive car that one could imagine lingered throughout this shop. 

“Taehyung,” A young man with black hair came climbing up the ladder. “How have you been you no good son of a bitch?” 

Taehyung chuckled, “I’ve been good,” 

Jungkook was young, taking on his father’s business after he passed five years ago. If Taehyung was honest, he’s done better work on his car than Jungkook’s father has ever done. 

His body was decked out in an all-black jumpsuit, a red cloth wiping off the oil before he stuck his hand out, Taehyung smiled, shaking the young man’s hand. 

“You know, Taehyung, you need to be nicer to your car,” He exclaimed, wiping some dust off the front, “Audi’s are wonderful cars and if you keep treating it the way you do then—“ 

The sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the shop, Jungkook grunting as the mysterious bullet settled into his chest. 

“Oh fuck!” Taehyung called out, watching as Jungkook cupped his chest, blood painting his hand. 

“I’ve been shot,” He whimpered.

Before Taehyung could even get the young man to safety, another shot sounded off, hitting Jungkook once more in the chest. A pained screamed left his lips before he collapsed on the ground, his body lifeless. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Taehyung panicked, ducking down between the two cars, pulling his colt out of his pocket. 

Another shot went off, the bullet smashing the mirror off a car, glass falling onto Taehyung. Perching up, Taehyung saw a man ducking behind a car. Cocking his gun, Taehyung sent a shot towards the man, the bullet ricocheting off a car. 

“Taehyung,” 

The gruff voice of Yoongi calmed Taehyung’s nerves a bit. Yoongi stepped over Jungkook, groaning at the site but quickly sent another bullet towards the man who dodged it, making Yoongi growl. 

“Leave through the back, Taehyung. I’ll pick you up once I kill this fucker.”

Taehyung nodded, quickly rising to his feet, gunshots going off once more. Finding himself in the back, Taehyung took off, panting as he looked for a place to duck until Yoongi would get him but he was soon rammed into the wall, a huff of air escaping his lungs.

“Give me the painting,”

“What?” 

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows, a French-sounding man had him pinned against the wall, his gun settling between his fingers in one hand. 

“Give me the painting,” He growled once more.

“I think you’re mistaken,” Taehyung shot back.

“I know you have the painting,” He urged on, pressing Taehyung harder into the wall.

“What fucking painting?” 

“The Grande Odalisque!”

Before Taehyung could even answer, the man's body was slung off Taehyung, the Audi stopped right in front of him. 

“Get in!” Yoongi called.

Taehyung glanced at the man who was groaning, rolling his body around on the ground before getting in the car. Backing the car out, Yoongi sped off, the only sound was the pants of Taehyung. 

“We need to meet up with the Detective…Now!”

You leaned against the table, your head hanging between your shoulders. A soft sigh escaped your lips as your eyes graced over the report for the fiftieth time it seemed. Jimin was sat beside you, his hair flopping over his forehead, his eyes scanning the same file you were currently looking at. You couldn’t understand what the significance of this Ingres piece. “Alright,” You mumbled, standing up straight, “We’ll just start from the beginning again.” A groan passed Jimin’s lips, “Miss Choi began cleaning the Ingres piece Tuesday evening, her helper already gone and locking her home up beside the backdoor of her art studio. By herself, Miss Choi had no suspensions but there was someone creeping in her backyard who then came to her window, silently opening it and sneaking through—“

“How didn’t she hear them?” Jimin scoffed, rubbing his hands against his face. 

“Either way, her throat was slit and the Odalisque missing.” 

You leaned back against the table, your eyes gazing at the photos that the police department sent over. From the looks of it, Miss Choi had to have been in her late seventies. Sighing, you crammed all the photos into a pile, placing them back in their designated folder. 

“I just don’t understand the significance of this piece.” 

“Which is why I’ve brought Taehyung into this case,” You answered, tossing the file on top of Taehyung’s file. 

Before Jimin could send you a snarky response, your phone began buzzing, a restricted number shining on the screen. Glancing up at Jimin, you answer the phone, static quickly filling your ear. 

“Hello?” You grunt, pulling the phone slightly from your ear.

“Is this Detective _____?” The voice rang.

“Who’s speaking?” “Taehyung,” Your eyes widen, mouthing his name to Jimin.

“Find out anything?” “Meet me back at my mansion now.” He ended the call, a soft sigh leaving your lips. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you gather the files and leave Jimin with a confusing look on his face. The ride to Taehyung’s was fast, your mind filling with questions. His hitman was out in the front already waiting for you, a new scratch adorning his face. Sending you a curt smile, he led you to a different room. A large table and books adorned the room and Taehyung sat at the end of the table, a finger pressed to his lips and his eyes zoned out. “Taehyung,” His head jerked up, his lips falling into a frown. “Sit,” His voice rumbled. Your thighs clenched at his voice. Sitting down beside him, you sat the files down on the table, his eyes landing on his in particular. “Do you really have to carry that fucking thing around with you?” You sighed, “Why’d you have me come here?” “Come sit down, Yoongi.” His hitman, who now has a name, sat down in front of you, his eyes landing on you. You studied his face, a cut going through his eyebrow and a bandage peeking out from underneath his shirt. “People think I have the missing Odalisque.” “Well do you?” You quizzed. “No,” He shot back, slowly breathing as he sent you a glare, “I didn’t even care for that fucking piece. Not only that,” He continued, “The man who tried to kill me today killed my fucking car guy! He was two years shy of my age and now he’s dead.” You choked on your spit, eyes wide at the comment, “Someone tried killing you?” “He’s not from here. He sounds like he’s from France but from the information, I gathered earlier, that Odalisque had last been seen after the Battle of Bayonne.” “And when was that?” “1814” You sighed, hanging your head low as you tried understanding all the information that was given to you. If that painting was last seen in 1814, then how did Miss Choi get ahold of it? “There’s said to be only one in the whole world,” Taehyung piped up, “but, if that’s the case then I don’t understand how that woman got ahold of such a painting.” “Maybe there’s more than one painting,” You whispered. Grabbing her file, you open and disperse the photos on the table, Taehyung and Yoongi grabbing random ones. “Oh god,” Taehyung grumbled, tossing the photo of her neck onto the table, “There must be something pretty significant about this painting if someone is willing to slice an old woman’s throat up like that.” “I know,” You mumbled, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, “I feel like there’s no lead. We know all that we can know.” “Do you think you can take us to the crime scene?” Taehyung quizzed. “I don’t see why not,” Gathering your files, you take your own self out, Taehyung and Yoongi following behind. You have officially decided that this case was going to be the death of you and it only truly started today. You mentally groaned, your nerves making your fingers twitch with anticipation. You wanted this whole case to just blow over but in reality, the man behind you that talked of art intrigued you. You normally weren’t one to fall in love so easily at first sight but this man, this dashing young man whose hair was as black as night and his beauty out of this world, you couldn’t help but fall in love. Thankfully for you, you were good at hiding your emotions, good at not showing the fact that anytime he flicked his eyes towards you or licked his plump ass lips, he couldn’t tell that your stomach flipped and heat pulled between your legs. As you arrived at the crime scene, the sky had darkened and rain slowly began falling. You had informed her helper that you were coming, leaving the backdoor open for you. Motioning for Taehyung and Yoongi to follow, the two had odd sayings about the house, making comments on everything they saw. You wanted to laugh but you were here on duty. Opening the backdoor, Miss Choi’s helper sat in the studio, her face not as rosy and her eyes not as swollen, she seemed better. “Hi,” You said softly, sending her a smile. “Hello,” “This is Kim Taehyung and his bodyguard Yoongi, they’re helping me on this case.” Both men sent her a smile, rummaging around. “Detective ______, I found a camera in her drawer when I was cleaning,” The helper started, grabbing an envelope from the table that sat beside her, “Miss Choi always took pictures of her progress.” She smiled, holding back tears as she spoke of the late Miss Choi. “I printed all the pictures that had the painting in them. I hope this helps.” Thanking her, the young girl left once more, leaving you with Taehyung and Yoongi. Sighing, you found yourself standing at the same table she was murdered at once again. “Oh god,” Taehyung gagged making you jerk your head towards him. Two of his fingers barely grasping a sheet of paper that had a note written on it. “Love your bug…” He gagged once more. You walked over and took the paper from him, scoffing. Your eyes scanned the note which was written in crayon and had a smiley face drawn at the bottom. “She had children,” He cringed, his body shuddering as he moved to another spot of the room. “Whose bug?” You murmured, placing the note back onto the table. Turning around, you noticed Taehyung throwing his head back with wine pouring into his mouth. “Taehyung you can’t move anything from the crime scene or drink anything at that.” He wiped his mouth, “Sorry,” Walking back to the table, you shuffle through the pictures once again, nothing deeming itself important. “There’s nothing important in these photos,” You groan, wanting to throw a whole tantrum but the presence of Taehyung standing beside you seemingly calmed you down. His thick fingers began shuffling through the photos, tossing some that weren’t important until he stopped on one picture, bringing the paper closer. “What is it?” You quizzed, standing on the tip of your toes to view the picture. It was an accidental picture; her face filling half the picture but the painting was gently bent in half in the background. “Hm,” his voice rumbled, dropping the rest of the pictures in his hand onto the table, “There’s a set of numbers on the back of the painting.” “And why does that matter?” “Because,” He sighed, shoving the picture into his coat pocket, “The only reason there were ever numbers on the back of paintings, back in those times, were numbers to riches.” “What kind of riches?” “Money. Loads and loads of money.” You nodded your head, resting your weight against the table, crossing your arms against your chest. “And what will we do with numbers to an account that we have no way of accessing?” You quizzed, looking up at the man who was nibbling on his lips, his mind wondering the same as you. He sighed, throwing his head back as he brought his hand up to his face to rub his jaw, “I hate that I’m even suggesting this—“ “What?” You interrupt. “Let me speak,” He mocked, sending you a smirk once your face showed annoyance, “I know of an English man who can enter these numbers and find how much money is involved.” “And who's this man?” “Charlie Mortdecai.” “Mortdecai…” You mumbled. “Another successful art dealer like me but he’s more on the broke side while I’m rolling around in money.” “God you people are everywhere,” You scoffed. His laugh filled the room, your cheeks flushing at the sound. “Yes but it pains me to say this: we need to fly to London.”

The flight over to London seemed long and quite terrible at that. Taehyung and Yoongi kept your ears—well mainly Taehyung—kept your ears filled with nonsense. He spoke of how terrible the wine was, how you were so quiet and the best one of all, he asked about your love life. You wanted to blush, tell the sweet man that you had a man to yourself but you found yourself telling the truth, letting him know that you haven’t dated since you entered the detective field. This however made his ears perk. He found you attractive and you found him attractive—or from what he could tell—he found no problem in you two talking.

Sadly, what made things tenser, was the fact that you had to share a room with Taehyung. The hotel ended up messing up the rooms, giving Yoongi a one-bedroom stay with a queen-sized bed and left you and Taehyung with two full-sized beds which were arm lengths apart. You tried entertaining the thought of you and Yoongi switching rooms but all you got was a grunt and a small laugh leaving Taehyung’s lips as his grumpy hitman slammed the door in your face, a pout settling on your lips.

“I don’t understand why you’re laughing,” You huffed, roughly shoving the keycard into the slot.

“Yoongi is not someone who would give up a one-person room,” He hummed, shutting the door behind him as you chunked your suitcase onto a nearby chair.

“And why’s that?” You hiss, crossing your arms which only made him laugh more.

“He likes to hook up with people,” He replied calmly, “I don’t blame him though. If I could end up with random girls every night I would.”

You cocked your head to the side, “Why can’t you? You’re drop-dead gorgeous.”

Taehyung chuckled, throwing his long body on the bed, his black curls laying neatly on his pillow, “I’d rather get myself involved with a smart woman. Someone who is a challenge keeps me on my toes.” His eyes darted to you, his wet muscle coming out to graze his bottom lip, your stomach flipping at the sight.

You only nodded your head though even though your stomach, mind, and vagina all said something different. Taehyung was completely your type but you knew deep down it wasn’t right to get involved with him because of his lifestyle but you’re highly considering throwing the lifestyle in the back of your head and hopping on his dick. The thought made you throb and by the way he’s staring at you, you could tell he sensed the sexual tension in the room.

“You know,” He sighed sitting up, his eyes roaming your body, “I didn’t expect you to be so tolerable.”

You chuckled, grabbing your bundle of files from your suitcase, “And why’s that?” You mused, the sound of the files hitting the bed making a thump.

You could hear a soft sigh, “Can you not worry about this case for one second?”

Before you could reply, the feeling of his body pressing against you caused your hand to shake. His body over towered you, the feeling of his hands lightly ghosting your skin sent shivers down your spine.

Stepping back, you glance up at him, his eyes already staring back at you, his breath lightly fanned your face. Your throat clamped up, the sight of him licking his lips once again making you want to grab him by his hair and pull him into a kiss.

“You’re so beautiful,” He hummed, wrapping his hands around your elbows, bringing your body into his softly.

“Taehyun—“

“I know you feel it too,” He whispered, his fingers lightly rubbing the soft skin, “The sexual tension that’s filled the air between us. Yoongi can’t stand being around us,” He chuckled.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gently removing yourself from his grip, rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door shut before locking it.

Soft pants left your lips as your heart thrummed like it never has before. How dare he speak what you’re only thinking. You didn’t think any sexual tension filled the air but knowing that Yoongi didn’t switch just to escape you two made your cheeks flush. You and Taehyung have hardly had any time together, this case just now skyrocketed and now you find yourself stuck in London with a handsome ass man.

Sighing, you flush the toilet and act like you’re washing your hands. You quickly threw water on your burning face before leaving the bathroom, Taehyung nowhere in sight.

Letting out a breath of relief, you walk towards your bed to lay down until Taehyung and Yoongi barge in, Yoongi letting out a scowl at the sight of you.

“Mortdecai is ready to meet us,” Taehyung mumbled walking over to his suitcase, placing his gun on his hip before turning back around, his eyes soft as they look at you.

Nodding your head, you follow the boys out and sit in silence as you made your way to wherever Mortdecai was meeting. The streets of London made your mouth drop in awe. You wanted to stop and sightsee but you know that would only cause Yoongi to growl and Taehyung to scoff at your touristy attitude. The rude there was in complete silence. Taehyung seemed tense, his eyes frantically searching through the streets as they whizzed by. The girlfriend side of you wanted to hold his hand, rub the soft skin for comfort but the detective side of you wants you to mind your own damn business.

The car suddenly came to a halt, Taehyung’s hand nudging at your thigh gently before you finally opened the door. Before you were a tall marble building that had people floating in and out. Taehyung thanked the driver before slamming the door, his large body covering yours as he walked off, Yoongi’s following right behind.

“Where are we?” You quizzed, lightly jogging to catch up to the two who seemed too nervous to be seen in public.

“He wanted to meet us at this library,” Taehyung mumbled, holding the door open for you, the cool air sending shivers down your body.

Nodding your head, Taehyung quickly glanced around before a man with a black turtleneck and bald head walked up, “Kim Taehyung?” He grunted.

Taehyung nodded his head, “And you must be Jock,” He smiled.

The man quickly nodded his head before walking off, you three following quickly behind as he led you into a back room.

Another man was present, his back facing you as he brought a wine glass up to his lips. The room was filled with books and beautiful art pieces decorated the wall. There were so many beautiful things about London and honestly, you were willing to spend another day here just to explore.

Turning your focus back to the man, his lean figure finally turned around. You wanted to grimace at the sight: a dark brown mustache took home on his lip, his brown hair slicked back and his body decorated with a burgundy velvet suit. A sly smile was placed on his lips as he looked at Taehyung and Yoongi.

“Ah, the best dealer from Seoul,” He started, throwing his head back, the wine disappearing in a split second, “What brings you here to London?”

Before Taehyung could answer, Mortdecai’s eyes fell onto you, his lips pulling up into a smirk, “And who is this?” He continued.

Taehyung turned around, his fist clenching at his side, “This is my girlfriend, _____.”

You choked on your breath, your eyes wide as Taehyung sent you a tense smile before turning back to the man. Girlfriend? Why would he tell Mortdecai that you were his girlfriend? Also, his English was magnificent, you wouldn’t be able to tell that his first tongue was Korean. You wanted to speak up and tell him that you were, in fact, one of the top detectives in Seoul but Taehyung gave you no time to interject before he answered Mortdecai’s first question.

“There’s been a piece that has gone missing,”

“And what does that have to do with me?” He chuckled, pouring himself some more wine before finding him a seat.

Taehyung huffed, “There has been a murder in Seoul. This woman was cleaning this piece and someone stole the painting and slit the poor woman’s throat. Thankfully we have pictures of the missing piece,”

Taehyung turned his body towards you, your body flinching before handing the packet over. His fingers lightly grazed yours as he took them from you, a soft smile settling across his face as he turned around, handing the packet over to Mortdecai who quickly pulled the photos out.

“Ah,” He hummed, “The Grande Odalisque. This piece is magnificent and there is said to be only one in the world,” He quickly flicked through the rest of the photos before tossing them onto the table beside him, “So, what does the missing of this Odalisque have anything to do with me?” His head crooked to the side as he sent Taehyung a warm smile.

Digging in his coat, Taehyung pulled another photo from his pocket, “There’s a set of numbers written on the back of this piece. According to Kim Namjoon—“

“Ew,” He fake gagged, “What a horrible man. What’re you doing talking to him?”

Taehyung only laughed, “Anyways, Namjoon mentioned that this painting was created around the time of the Battle of Bayonne, said that the French lost and the painting missing.”

Mortdecai sighed, “Then there is more than one Odalisque in the world.”

“Which is why I am come to you,” Taehyung hummed, “I need you to look up these sets of numbers and see if these numbers link to an account of any sort.”

Standing up, Mortdecai took the picture from Taehyung, his eyes tracing over the set of numbers before motioning for you to follow. You all follow behind as he leads you through the various rows of books before coming to a separate part of the library, his fingers tracing the spines before landing on a huge, leathery book, his hand wrapping around the thick pile of paper before dropping it on the table, a soft cough leaving your lips as you swat away the dust.

Mumbling to himself, he quickly skims through the pages before landing on The Grande Odalisque, the page shaded brown as age catches up to it. You all swarm the book, Mortdecai silently reading to himself before mumbling an aha.

“According to this, the Odalisque was created in 1814 and as you mentioned, the French did lose the battle but the Odalisque was not ruined.” His finger continued skimming through, “Also, right here it mentions that the United Kingdom got ahold of the painting, replicating the masterpiece for the sake of hiding the secret account.” Shutting the book, your body slowly jumped as he sent a short smile to Taehyung, “Your friend, Namjoon, was wrong. There is another piece out there with the correct bank account.”

“Wait,” Taehyung yelped, “You mean to tell me that the numbers plastered across the one that is missing is not the correct bank account?”

“Mm, no,” He whizzed, placing the book back on the shelf, “Someone, somewhere placed that incorrect account on the back of the fake painting.”

“Then where is the other painting?”

Mortdecai sighed, “That I don’t know,” He mumbled, “But, I do have an idea.”

“How the hell is that going to work, Taehyung?” 

Tossing your jacket on your suitcase, you fold your arms and glare at the man who only ran his fingers through his hair, shrugging his jacket off before looking back at you. 

After you all found out some more details about the Odalisque, Mortdecai suggested that Taehyung lies to a famous art dealer over in America named Simmons. The idea was dumb and by the way, Taehyung has stayed silent, the plan is going to fall through. Mortdecai wants to sell the Grande Odalisque to Simmons, letting him know that himself, Taehyung would be there. The idea was crazy. Many wrongs could go down but Taehyung seems to trust this man, agreeing after Mortdecai assured him the plan would work because according to him, ‘Simmons is a dumb buyer who will buy anything from him’. You wanted to trust him, to know that this plan will work but it seems too risky and if things don’t go right, there is no telling what could go down. You have never been involved with the underground art world but from studying Taehyung’s files, many murders happened secretly that even the police didn’t know about. 

“It’ll work, I promise.” His voice was soft, almost soothing you but you were still worried. 

“How are you so sure? You don’t even know this Simmons guy but you’re willing to fly not only yourself but for me and Yoongi over to California to sell a painting that none of us have,” You continued. “How is that going to work, Taehyung? We don’t know where these paintings are but you’re going to sell a fucking painting?” You bring your fingers up, putting sell in quotations as Taehyung looked at you with a smirk.

“Listen,” He hummed, sitting on the corner of your bed, “This will work. Even though I hate saying this, I trust Mortdecai.” 

“Then why hate saying it?” You urged, crossing your arms.

“I typically do my deals on my own but Mortdecai is someone I would do a risky sell with.” 

You scoffed, pushing your hair back as you pondered the plan in your head. Taehyung was stupid. You were stupid. All three of you were stupid for even coming here to London. This painting was stupid, the woman was murdered and like the others, it sure didn’t seem to hurt to sweep those murders away so why not sweep this one away? 

Fuck, you groaned, that’s not nice, you thought to yourself. You threw your head back in annoyance before trailing your eyes back to Taehyung who already had his eyes on you. A soft smile grew on his lips. Standing up, Taehyung made his way over to you, his hands gently coming out to lace around your elbows once more, sparks igniting across your body. 

“How about we go out and explore, hm? I saw you staring with big, bright eyes at everything we passed.”

You were taken back. Taehyung was willing enough to take you out on the town, to spend one-on-one time with you. A smile drew on your face before you nodded. “Good,” He hummed, letting go of your elbows to put his jacket back on, “Let’s go.”

Shrugging your jacket back on, you follow Taehyung out. Your heart was fluttering. Relief filled your body because although you’ve had feelings for Taehyung since the day you met him, you haven’t had any time to truly know the man, to figure him out, to know why he does what he does. You had plenty of questions to ask him and tonight deemed itself to be the perfect night to do so. Although your detective-state-of-mind wanted to stay back to talk about action plans, this seemed to calm you and that is all you need before the true storm comes. The cold night air sent shivers down your spine, your body automatically trembling. Noticing this, Taehyung slips his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you into his side, your cheeks flushing at the action. You both walked in quiet as the night lights preoccupied your mind anyways. The view was breathtakingly beautiful, almost as beautiful as Seoul at night. Although this is fun, you miss home. You miss Jimin, Hoseok, and even your strict boss Seokjin. “There is a really good restaurant down the street here,” Taehyung smiled down at you. Nodding your head, you followed Taehyung’s lead. For the rest of the walk, you two stay in complete silence. At the end of the street, there were fairy lights decorating the roof, plants dangling off the rails and the atmosphere soothing your nerves. “It’s beautiful,” You mumbled, mouth dropping in awe as you two waited for a table. The waitress took you two to the back corner, the lights dim which made the atmosphere more romantic. Taehyung was being a complete gentleman. Pushing you up to the table, draping your jacket across your chair and letting you choose whatever you wanted on the menu. Something about this made your heart flutter and all you wanted to do was smile so widely but you didn’t want to put your guard down too quickly. “How did you find this place?” You mused, swirling the wine around in the glass. “I found this place when I made my first art sell here.” “How long have you been doing this? The whole underground art world?” He chuckled, “So that’s what you all call it? Underground…” A boxy smile shined back at you, your heart melting at the sight, “I’ve been doing this since I was twenty.” “Wow,” You gaped, “and you’re already such a well-known art dealer.” “For someone who works for the government, you seem pretty proud of how far I’ve come.” He raised an eyebrow at you, heat pooling in your underwear. “There’s a lot of things that I find myself fond of about you.” You admit shyly. He cocked an eyebrow, “And what’s that?” You coughed, “Well…you love what you do, you are very hardworking, you let nothing get in your way and you’re very smart…” You glance up, sending him a shy smile before dropping your guard completely, “and you’re very handsome, someone that I wouldn’t mind looking at all the time.”

A low growl emitted from his chest, “Is that so?” His deep timber voice traveled.

You slowly nodded your head, ready to respond but the sight of the food being placed down threw you completely off guard. Whatever you had to say could be said later but the way Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you seemed that he didn’t care for the food, only you. Ignoring the stare, you place some food in your mouth, a low moan slipping from your throat at the delightful taste that this food brought. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Taehyung tense up, his knuckles going white as they gripped the poor metal fork.

Dinner went by tensely. You could feel the sexual tension in the air as you both ate, walked home, and now as you both stand a couple of inches apart in the elevator. You didn’t know if anything was going to happen because quite frankly, the way his jaw clenched every time you moved or when you muttered a simple word of praise at the food, his jaw would clench and his eyes steady on you. Even though you hate to admit it, your thighs had been clenched the whole dinner, heat pooling in your panties as you noticed the intense stares and the way his jawline clenched and unclenched; it was hot of course but you were too busy on the food.

As the elevator finally reached your floor, the sexual tension -even though you couldn’t see how- rose even more as you both walked down the hallway. As you approached your door, the sound of moans quietly fills the area around you. Grunting, Taehyung glances over at Yoongi’s room, a scoff escaping his lips as he presses his ear up to the door.

“For fuck’s sake,” He mumbled shaking his head as if this action would get rid of the sinful sounds he heard.

Giggling at this, Taehyung sends you a smirk before opening the door for you, the cool air hitting your body, tingles coating your body as the air cooled you down. This was the moment to see if anything would happen between you two. Part of you wanted everything to happen but the other part keeps telling you that this is a work event, you’re on duty and you shouldn’t be spreading your legs for a man whose file is thicker than his own arm.

Sighing, you shrug your jacket off before kicking off your heels, another -and even though you didn’t mean to- moan fell from your lips, the feeling of the flat floor making your quietly shiver at the comfort. Before long, you hear a soft sigh sounding behind you, the sound of Taehyung’s bare feet padding against the floor as he found himself laid upon your bed, his eyes wandering over your body. You felt your body flush once more, the cool air not helping anymore. Turning your body towards his, you raise your arms, a cocked eyebrow placed amidst your face as he sent back a sinful smirk. 

“What is it, _____?” He mused, your name sounds so sinful coming from his lips.

“Nothing,” You whispered rubbing your arms trying to create any friction.

He chuckled, pushing himself off your bed before standing himself in front of you, his bangs hanging over his eyes as he stared at you, his eyes roaming your face, looking for any sign; the sign that he wants.

“You looked so gorgeous tonight,” He began, his hands finding their way to your elbow, his thumb rubbing the soft skin, “but, you didn’t seem to think of what you were doing.” He hummed.

You gulped, “And what was I doing?” Your eyes finally found his.

He smirked, “You know what you were doing, moaning every time that god damn food touched your pretty little mouth.” His grip on your elbow tightened and unfortunately, your panties began sticking to you and it was becoming uncomfortable.

Before you could even process what he said, he smashed his lips on yours, his lips soft against your own. You sighed, the feeling you have been waiting for is now happening and the butterflies in your stomach were erupting. Taehyung’s grip loosened, his hands falling to your hips, pulling your body flush against his, your hands finding home on his neck. Pulling back, Taehyung’s breath fanned in your face before he went back in but this time his tongue was begging for an entrance, the soft muscle skimming your bottom lip as you easily parted your mouth, his tongue finding yours immediately. Both your tongues pressed against each other, your teeth clashing as you both craved each other's touch.

Taehyung turned you around, your knees hitting the back of the bed as he pushed you down gently, your hair fanning out. He groaned, the sight of you making him feel some type of way. He wanted to take his time with you, to appreciate your body but he has had this pent up attraction towards you and truly, all he wanted to do was fuck that pretty little smirk off your face.

“Scoot up,” He demanded, his hands finding their way to his belt. Obeying immediately, you find yourself perched up on the pillows as he watched your every move. You never truly got to soak in what Taehyung looked like. He was handsome no doubt but he expanse of his shoulders, the way his button-up was threatening to pop at any second, the way his dark chocolate brown hair hung beautifully across his forehead; he was lethal and all you could do was fall more in love with the art piece. Ironically, he sold and dealt with art but he was the art to you.

Crawling up to you, Taehyung pressed his lips against yours once more but this time more gently as if he was savoring the moment; however, this didn’t last too long. His thick fingers began sliding up your thigh, the touch causing goosebumps to rise on demand. Soft moans left your lips as his tongue pressed further into your mouth and the feeling of his calloused fingers squeezing, pinching, and skimming the soft flesh already made your mind swirl. 

“What do you want?” He breathed, a string of saliva following his lips as they part from yours. 

You breathed slowly, “Would I seem desperate if I said you?” You cocked an eyebrow, causing him to chuckle at your answer. 

“Well, then I would be desperate as well because I want you,” His eyes flicked up to yours, his tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip, a glint of satisfaction at your reaction present in his eyes. 

All you could do was bite your lip and shyly nod. Relieved at this answer, Taehyung’s hands found their way to the back of your dress, pulling the zipper down slowly as he mouthed at your neck, gently sucking, nibbling and licking at the soft skin. Your hands found perched in his hair, gently tugging at the soft locks, causing a growl to emit from his lips, the sound vibrating off your skin. Pulling back from your neck, Taehyung grabs at your straps, tugging the fabric down until all you are left in is your bra and underwear, his gaze falling immediately upon your body. Your first instinct was to cover up but he quickly pinned your arms down, his breath increasing as he grew more impatient to make love to your body, to fuck your brains out. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” He groaned, his fingers slowly trailing down your body, your chest heaving up and down. 

You felt yourself blush at his comment. His fingers came to a halt at the hem of your underwear, your heat throbbing at the thought of him being so close to where you truly want him the most. Slightly bucking your hips, 

Taehyung smirked, a huff of air passed his lips, a tsk following soon after. 

“So needy,” He mumbled, his fingers hooking around the band, slowly tracing the fabric as his knuckles glided across your smooth skin. This only made your hips buck more, the small act making your body go wild. 

Chuckling, Taehyung finally lifted his fingers from your band and brought his hands up to your breast, grabbing a handful and squeezing at the mounds. You arched your back, your breasts always being a sensitive area for you. Taehyung’s face lit up, his mind going crazy with the thought of you being so sensitive, so easily flared up at the simple touch of his fingers. He wouldn’t tell you but this was driving him crazy and if he was honest, he could combust at any moment. 

“T-Tae,” You whispered, throwing your head back, your neck bare to him, his tongue skimming his bottom lip at the sight. 

“What is it, baby?” He cooed, your body reacting to the nickname causing Taehyung to smirk, “Like that? Like when I call you baby? What if I called you slut?” 

And just like that, a moan escaped your lips and your core throbbed. You didn’t think you would be into degrading names but here you were, losing your shit over being called a slut. 

Reaching behind your back, Taehyung quickly unsnapped your bra, throwing the fabric behind his back. A soft sigh escaped his lips, his mouth finding home on your left breast. His hand came up to your right breast, squeezing, pinching at your nipple as his mouth completely ravished your other nipple, sucking, biting, and swirling his soft muscle around. You couldn’t help the tumble of moans that left your lips as he devoured your breasts. Sliding your fingers through his hair, you glance down and notice the faint markings slowly showing up as he pulled back, your boob leaving his mouth with a pop. Glancing up at you, Taehyung sent you a smirk before he began mouthing between your breasts, swirling his tongue around the soft skin and made his way down to the hem of your underwear. 

Wrapping his fingers around the band, he slowly pulls the fabric down, a string of your arousal following the soaked garment, a growl falling from Taehyung’s lips as the sight. Once he completely rids you, you clamp your thighs shut, embarrassment coursing through your body. Glaring at you, Taehyung wraps his hands around your knees, pulling your legs open, cool air heating your core sending goosebumps across your body. 

“Fuck,” He whined, “You’re so fucking beautiful and so wet,” 

A soft whine passed your lips at the compliment and your ears burned at the sinful comment. Leaning back up, Taehyung rids himself of his shirt, his tan -and built- body coming into view, your mouth automatically drooling at the sight. You quickly wiped at your mouth before he could notice but the small chuckle that passed his lips signified that he already saw and your dignity was already out the door. 

“Want me to eat you out?” He questioned, his hands gently rubbing your thigh. 

All you could do was nod and with a soft kiss to the top of your knee, Taehyung has your legs pulled apart and his face inches away from your drenched hole. You felt his breath fan you, your hole clenching around nothing, the sight making Taehyung grind his hips against the bed. 

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already clenching around nothing,” He mused, his finger slowly tracing circles on the inner part of your thigh. 

“Taehyung,” You moaned, your fingers finding their way to his hair once again, “please hurry,” You begged, gently tugging at the strands. 

“Hurry for what?” He quizzed, arching his eyebrow at you. 

Before you could answer, Taehyung placed a gentle kiss to the top of your pussy, your head falling back onto the pillow. You felt him chuckle against you as he placed more gentle kisses and soon enough, his lips began sucking on the skin, hickies most likely decorating the area in the morning. 

“T-Tongue,” You finally got out, your hips bucking at one particular suck before he pulled back, his chin shining with your arousal. 

He laughed, “Look, I haven’t even got to taste you yet and your already covering my chin. How fucking nasty,” He cooed wiping the stringy mess on your thigh. Clenching at the sight, Taehyung brought his index and middle finger up, spreading your lips apart as he awed at the sight. 

“P-Please,” You begged, bucking your hips up at his face

“Are you sure about that?” He smirked, his hand coming down in a loud smack against your pussy, loving the way your hole clenched at the action, “I could fuck you right now you’re so goddamn wet. Would you like that?” He hummed, “Me ramming into you right now without prepping you? Stretching you out completely?” His finger grazed past your hole, bringing the slender digit up, your arousal dangling off the end, his tongue coming up to clean up the mess.

A moan passed your lips, the sight almost making your orgasm alone. Of course, you wouldn’t mind Taehyung fucking you right now but you also wanted to feel that devilish tongue inside you, those long, thick digits ramming inside you as well. 

“No,” You whined, “I want to feel your tongue,” You cried out, trying with all your might to push his head down south. 

Growling at your actions, Taehyung’s tongue licked straight up, your head jerking back. A soft pitched scream passed your lips as he continued to lick wide strips up to your needy hole. Moaning at the taste of you, Taehyung brought his fingers up, bringing his middle finger up to his mouth, sucking the digit before pressing it in you slowly, your pussy squelching at the action. 

You couldn’t get yourself to look down, to look at the mess he is making you. You have only been with a couple of men in your life but for some reason, for some unknown reason, this man that you willingly met, his a finger deep inside of you, making your body shiver at the simple move. Your breath came out in pants as he squeezed another finger in, a soft grunt passing his lips at the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers. 

“God you’re so fucking tight,” He moaned, his fingers moving in a come here motion.

As soon as he began, your back bounced off the bed, his finger pressing on your sensitive spot. A small aha left his lips as your body slowly shivered at the feeling.

Pulling his fingers back, Taehyung inserted another finger, a wince leaving your lips at the stretch but pleasure soon filled your body as he began ramming his fingers in and out. Without fail, Taehyung hit your spot every time, squelching noises filling the room as your slick fell from your core, the bedsheets surely getting soaked. 

“You take my fingers so well, babygirl,” He hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your clit before wrapping his fingers around the nub. 

You truly thought you could orgasm without him messing with the little sensitive nub but soon enough you were arching your back and panting. A burning coil began feeling your stomach, your thighs slowly beginning to shake and all you could do was whine. Noticing this, Taehyung’s fingers only gained more speed and his knuckles bruised your skin as they continuously rammed against you. Your clit began throbbing with pleasure, his tongue swirling around the nib.

“I’m close,” You finally cry out, your grip around his hair tightening as his fingers thrust harder and his teeth nibble at your clit.

With a couple of more thrust and one more hard suck to your clit, you see stars. A scream passed your lips as your clamped your thighs shut around his head, his lips still attached to your clit and his fingers still thrumming in and out of you. His body moved with your hips as you moved them from side to side, hoping that the movement would calm down your orgasm. Removing his fingers from your sopping core, his tongue began lapping up your juices, the obscene sound making you whimper. With a few harsh licks, you gently nudge his head away, his chin, lips, and nose covered with your sweet nectar. 

“Mm,” He groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “You taste so fucking good, babygirl,”

You dropped your legs on the bed, your chest heaving as you slowly came down from your high. Taehyung left gentle kisses against your thighs but soon enough, you found yourself rolling onto your knees, reaching out for his belt but his hands quickly caught yours, pushing you back. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t think I have the patience to receive a blowjob from you,” He hummed standing up from the bed, jerking his pants and underwear down, his length smacking against his stomach. 

You found yourself drooling once more but didn’t care to wipe since your dignity left a long time ago. This man was blessed. His tip was a deep shade of red, the poor thing pumping out precum. You awed at the sight of him but he quickly bent over, grabbing a condom from his wallet. 

“Like what you see?” He smirked, wrapping his fist around his length, wincing as he got closer to the raging head. His fingers slightly shook as he rolled the condom on, his dick screaming to be set free but you were both in the right mind to know that this was the right way. 

He crawled back up to the top of the bed, pressing his lips against yours once more, your juices still tainting his tongue causing you to moan at the taste. His hips ground against your core, his tip snagging at your hole at every thrust causing you to moan into the kiss. His hand slowly ran down your body, squeezing at certain parts of your skin before he gripped his dick, rubbing the tip against your clit, your moan rolling into his mouth. Sighing, you bite down on his bottom lip, pulling the thick skin back before letting go, sending a smirk to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” He hummed, sending you a soft smile. 

You awed at the comment but your smile faded away once he nudged his length in, your hips thrusting up at the feeling. Glancing up, your eyes landed on him; lust-filled eyes looked back at you. His cheeks were rosy, his breath fanning his face and his mouth hung open as he slowly skimmed his tongue against his bottom lip. If someone were to look at him, they would think he had already been balls deep into someone but all he did was eat you out and he already looks like this. You wanted to remember this forever, remember that fucked out look because all you ever see is his murderous look, no emotions, and this right here, this made your heart flutter. 

“Are you ready?” He whispered, gliding his tip up and down your cunt.

“Yes,” You whispered back, pulling him down by the nape of his neck to pull him into a kiss.

Your lips softly moved together as he pressed his head in, your lips freezing at the stretch. Cooing, Taehyung placed gentle kisses across your face, trying his best to rid your face of pain. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you tap his hip gently. Sighing, Taehyung slowly pushes himself the rest of the way in, his dick throbbing at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. It took everything in him not to bust because fuck if he wasn’t man enough he would have but he wasn’t going to show you just how much you affected him already. 

He stayed there, his dick filling you up, your pussy clenching around him and all he could do was pant and wait for your go. After another minute of waiting, you finally tapped his hip, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Pushing himself back on his feet, he pulls his dick out, his tip settling against your entrance before slamming himself back in, a yelp leaving your lips. Smirking, Taehyung smacked your clit harshly the action making your hips buck up. 

“I’ve been sweet,” He began, pulling his hips back once more before ramming them back in, “but now I’m going to fuck you.”

Bringing his tip back to your entrance he threw himself over you, his hands catching him as his body caged you before he rammed his hips against yours again but continued thrusting. The sound of his hips smacking yours filled the room, the squelching sound is just as loud. He panted, his breath fanning your face as he furiously pounded your pussy, his tip grazing your cervix. You couldn’t breathe, your mouth hung open as you threw your head to the side, your fingers raking down his back but he was quick to grip your face, forcing you to look at him as he fucked your relentlessly. Leaning back up, Taehyung grabbed your thigh, lifting the limb over his shoulder, this angle causing his dick to hit your spot over and over again. All you could do was silently scream and soon enough, his hand found their way around your neck, gently squeezing your throat as he snapped his hips into you, your body jerking up. 

“Hm, it seems like you like being choked,” He chuckled, squeezing your neck more until you’re clawing at his hand.

Pulling back, Taehyung brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing quick curt circles around the nub causing your back to arch up as he abused the sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt the slow-burning coil erupt in your stomach and all you could do was whine. You’ve never been able to cum once during sex but you’re fixing to cum twice and you feel like you’re in heaven; however, this soon stops as he pulls out, your hole clenching around nothing, your eyes shooting open and glaring at the man who only sent you a smirk before wrapping his hands around your waist and flipping you over. 

“Fuck,” He moaned, his hand immediately smacking the soft flesh, rubbing the sensitive spot as you arched your back to the pain. 

His left hand came down with a loud smack and then his right and all you could do was a whimper. He did this a few more times before he humped into you, his body leaning into yours. A soft moan left your lips at the feeling of his dick resting between your lips. Wrapping his hand around your neck, Taehyung pushed you into the ass-down-face-up position and you immediately wiggled your ass, hoping this would get him to push back into you and lucky for you, the feeling of being stretched once again overcome your body. 

“How’re you still so tight?” He grunted, thrusting his hips into you.

Snapping his hips against yours, Taehyung set a brutal pace once more, your face pressed against the pillow and his hands gripped your hips. This new angle allowed Taehyung to hit your spot harder and your body fell into euphoria. Reaching around, Taehyung’s fingers found your abused clit once more and drew quick circles around the nub and you felt that burning coil swelling up once more. 

“I-I’m close,” You moaned, grabbing onto anything that your hands could grip on. 

With a grunted same, Taehyung’s hips snapped into your harder. With a few more thrusts, your orgasm washed over you, black spots filling your vision and your body falling limp but Taehyung was quick to catch you. The feeling of your walls clenching around him made his hips stutter and with a few more clumsy thrusts, Taehyung pressed his dick into you, his dick spurting as he panted, his body hanging over yours, his breath fanning against your back. Riding out his high, Taehyung leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your shoulders until he fell limp. His body collapsed beside yours, his eyes shut as he tried catching his breath and all you could do was stare at him and that fluttery feeling came back. 

Your hands mindlessly found their way to his cheek, your thigh rubbing the smooth skin as his breathing came back to normal. His hand slowly came up to wrap his fingers around your palm, his eyes fluttering open, landing on you. A soft smile fell on your face and one was returned. 

“You were amazing,” You hummed,

He chuckled, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss before pushing himself off the bed, removing the condom from his flaccid penis, chunking the used condom away into the bin before heading to the bathroom. Sitting up, you cross your legs before running a finger through your messy hair.

“Lay back,” Glancing up, Taehyung had a washcloth dangling in his hands.

You found yourself falling back, the feeling of the cold washcloth heaven against your scorching skin. Humming, Taehyung tosses the washcloth back into the bathroom, slipping his underwear back on before grabbing a clean pair from your suitcase, sliding them on your legs, placing a soft kiss to your thighs. 

“You’re being so nice,” You mumbled rolling over, snuggling into your pillow. 

He laughed, “Here,” Opening one eye, you notice a black shirt dangling from his fingers. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “That’s yours.”

“Wear it,” He whispered, urging the shirt into your possession which you accepted, slipping the loose garment on, the smell of him filling your nose. 

A soft smile found its way on his face at the sight of you cuddled under your blankets with his shirt draped over your figure. 

“Sleep with me,” You mumbled reaching for his fingers. 

His heart thrummed at the comment. He’s never got himself too involved with someone, his work being too important to him to even make time for a significant other; but with you, everything seemed right and he couldn’t figure out why. Sighing, Taehyung threw back your covers and cuddled in beside you, your legs immediately intertwining with his. 

“Good night,” You whispered drifting off to sleep.

“Good night,” Taehyung smiled, placing a soft kiss against your head before drifting off to sleep with you cuddled in his arms.

The morning after was sweet, something you didn’t expect. Taehyung woke you up sweetly, leaving soft kisses against your cheek. You still couldn’t believe what happened the night before but you still thought about the romantic night, your cheeks blushing at everything that passed through your brain. If your night spent together wasn’t any obvious, Yoongi was quick to make jokes, saying how you both had a glow that you two didn’t have that morning. Of course, you got two quick punches on him but Taehyung agreed, placing a soft kiss on your head which caused your cheeks to flare up.

And to your surprise, Taehyung continuously held your hand. He held it in front of Mortdecai, held it on the plane, and now he is holding it as you all make your way to Simmons house. You didn’t know how to feel. Even when this mission started, there was always sexual tension between you and Taehyung. The simple little touches set your heart on fire, the sneaked looks, the casual glances up and down, they all made your heart feel some way. Truth be told, at first, you didn’t want anything to do with him, to just use him to solve this case and let him off with multiple of murders and more but, for some odd reason, your heart found comfort, happiness, and overall, love.

The thing is, you wouldn’t tell him that you loved him. The timing wasn’t right, this may be first love kind of jitters, but you knew good and well not to mention this. The timing wasn’t right and there is a big possibility that once you get back to Seoul and complete this case, Taehyung would disappear, continuing his work and leaving you to ponder if you were just a simple hook-up. But the way he made you feel last night, you couldn’t even put it into words. No one has made you feel like this and he did in one night, hardly knowing anything about you but finding the simple detective girl interesting; however, Taehyung wouldn’t let you know this.

He couldn’t quite put his fingers on it, why you were filling his mind and why he found himself falling in love with the law when he was quite literally running away from it. He thought you were a silly girl at first, barking up the wrong tree when you came to him for help but in reality, you were fiery, quick to find a solution and this made his interest grow. You were beautiful and for some reason, even though he’s only known you for a short amount of time, he finds himself falling for you.

The flight to America was quick and the whole time you and Taehyung told little things about each other, trying anything to pass the time. Mortdecai booked you all a hotel and to your liking, you and Taehyung ended up in another room together. However, one thing that you found weird was that Mortdecai had Yoongi fly the car out with them but, since you didn’t want Taehyung to get frustrated again, you kept the bundle of questions to yourself, minding your business.

“Okay,” Taehyung mumbled, tossing his luggage on the ground, “You will stay here until I come back and get you for the reveal party tonight, okay?” He raised an eyebrow at you, rolling his sleeves up. 

“Why can’t I go with you?” You mumble, pouting at him. 

Chuckling, Taehyung pushed himself off the table and walked over to you, grabbing your chin gently before placing his lips onto yours. His lips were so soft and every time you kissed, all you could think about was last night, making your core throb. 

“Wouldn’t it be boring hearing men discuss art? Art that you don’t find any interest in?” His thumb gently rubbed your cheek, the small act soothing you. 

“Yes,” You hummed, placing your hand on top of his, “but wouldn’t it be much easier if I was already at the mansion with you?” 

Pinching your cheek gently, Taehyung walked over to his suit for the night. Zipping the bag open, a cool royal blue gown was hanging before his suit, your mouth gaping at the material.

“Fine,” He mumbled, his fingers rubbing the silky fabric, “I had my designer make this dress for you last minute. I hope you like it,”

You immediately grabbed the fabric, the silky garment feeling so nice between the pads of your fingers. It was gorgeous. Beautiful rhinestones decorated the top and scattered down the sleeves. 

“Of course,” You smiled sweetly. 

Wrapping his arm around your waist, Taehyung started leaning down but the sound of a knock ringing throughout the room caused him to huff and a small giggle to pass your lips. 

“What?” Taehyung grunted. 

“It’s time to go,” Yoongi’s deep voice echoed. 

Sighing, Taehyung zipped up the bag, slinging the garments over his shoulder and gestured you out the door as you grabbed your makeup bag. You were welcomed with a gummy grin from Yoongi who had a bag slung over his shoulder as well and Mortdecai who had his hitman carrying both their suits. 

“Ah, so she’s coming?” Mortdecai chimed, sending you a smile. 

Giving a quick nod, you all followed Mortdecai down to the lobby, Yoongi hanging both garment bags in the car neatly before following Mortdecai to Simmons mansion. The car ride was filled with conversation of tactics, what Yoongi should do, how Yoongi and Mortdecai should sneak in but the plans were going in one ear and out the other as you watched the city fly by. You were never interested in going to the States. You found comfort in Seoul and never planned on leaving but you were thankful for all these travels. 

What you were most intrigued with was the beautiful mansion that you finally pulled up to. It looked like it came from a movie, your mouth was dropped completely open but the sound of Yoongi coughing brought you out your daze. Bringing the car to a stop, you all exited the car, the warm sun beating down on you and you immediately regret wearing an all-black outfit. 

“Ah,” Glancing up, you see a tall middle-aged man walking up, his teeth brighter than the sun itself, “if it isn’t Kim Taehyung and Charlie Mortdecai.” 

He brought his hand up to Taehyung who accepted it gingerly, giving the man a curt smile who quickly threw himself into Mortdecai’s arms, a loud laugh booming from his mouth. You found yourself scooting closer to Yoongi, his body radiating comfort to you. 

“So, lets cut to the chase, can I look at the painting?”

“Yes, you see—“ 

Before Charlie could answer, Simmons jerked open Yoongi’s door, shoving his body in there and brought a knife up to the ceiling. 

“Wait!” Taehyung yelled.

Ignoring his comment, Simmons cut the fabric up and a rolled-up painting fell, everyone’s mouth wide open. Tucking the painting under his arms, Simmons shot everyone a bright smile, shutting the door behind him as he yelled a follow me. Taehyung glanced back at you and Yoongi, his jaw clenching. 

“I guess we did have the fucking painting after all,” He mumbled to Yoongi.

The interior of the mansion was nothing compared to the exterior. His home was decorated in marble, his walls filled with paintings and what made the moment cute was how Taehyung would slow down to catch a glance at a piece, his tongue skimming over his lip if he found one more interesting than the other. Once this case was done, you were sure that your knowledge of paintings would be far more vast than it once was. 

As you slowly filed in behind the rest of the group, Simmons already had the painting rolled out on the table and to your completely utter shock, the Grande Odalisque was laid out on the table in all its glory. Your mouth fell in awe, the painting just as beautiful but your throat clenched at the thought of poor Miss Choi. 

“Sorry to be rude,” Simmons beamed, his body leaning against the table, 

“I didn’t get to catch her name,” 

All eyes fell on you, your cheeks flushing at all the attention but you quickly fixed your posture, “Hi,” You smiled back, “I’m De—“

“This is my girlfriend,” Taehyung cut you off, his grip around your wrist tightening, “I thought I’d bring her to the reveal party.” 

You glared up at him but sent Simmons a curt smile, “Hi, I’m Don Simmons…”

“_____,” You answer.

“Ah, ____. Beautiful name and a beautiful girl, Taehyung, good job.” 

His attention went back to the painting but the feeling of your phone vibrating allowed you to excuse yourself, Jimin’s name flashing across the screen.

“Ah,” You moaned in happiness, “Jimine,” You cooed, “How are you?”

“I’m good but guess what I found out while you were gone!!” Excitement laced in his voice. 

“What is it?” You mumbled, glancing back into the room to see all men bending over the table studying the painting. 

“You remember that note that Taehyung found? The ‘love your bug’ note?” 

“Mm,”

“I figured out who bug was,”

“And who is it?” You whispered,

“It was her lover. An older gentleman by the name Kim Myung-Dae. He was an underground dealer like Taehyung and he normally sent his paintings over to Miss Choi to clean and low and behold he has the original Grande Odalisque, the one with the secret code on the back.” 

Your mouth dropped. Your heart began racing and all you wanted to do was drag Taehyung up the stairs but you had to keep your composure or the plan tonight wouldn’t work. 

“Are you sure its the right one?” You scooted a bit further from the room, “The man we’re seeing now has the Grande Odalisque displayed across his table right now,” 

“Yes, I’m sure, ____. When you come back to Seoul, have Taehyung come to the office and check to make sure because I know there is an art auction the week you come back.”

Taehyung doesn’t know but you have been relaying the plans back to Jimin. You felt more comfortable knowing that if anything was to screw up, Jimin would have a backup plan ready for you at any second. 

“I’ll talk to Taehyung tonight but I’ve got to go, Jimin, good work!” 

“Talk to you later,”

Ending the call, you made your way back to the room just in time. Simmons was rolling up the painting, tucking the replica under his arm. Wrapping your hand around Taehyung’s wrist, you tug gently, catching his attention.

“I need to speak with you and Yoongi alone,” You whispered.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Taehyung sent you a quick nod, asking Don where your rooms were. Giving Taehyung a bright smile, Don had one of his butlers lead you three up the stairs, another followed behind with your wardrobe for tonight and your makeup bag dangling from his pinkie. Your mind was racing with the information Jimin gave you. If he was right, the painting that Simmons took was the replica and the real Grande Odalisque was safe in Seoul with Kim Myung-Dae or at least you hoped so.

“Why are you pale as hell?” Yoongi chuckled, crossing his arms as Taehyung locked the door.

You shot a glare at him, “Because I found out the information I wasn’t ready for, dumbass.”

Taehyung chuckled, “What information did you find out?”

You gently rubbed your temples and recited what Jimin told you. Taehyung’s eyebrows were furrowed and so were Yoongi’s. Hell, you would be shocked as hell and confused if you just find this out as well which you were but at this point you were confused.

“So they didn’t have children?”

“Seriously,” You groaned, “That’s all you got from what I just told you?” You rolled your eyes at Taehyung who only shrugged his shoulders.

“Anyways,” Yoongi grumbled, “The painting that Don has is the replica of the real Grande Odalisque?”

“That’s what we’re hoping.” You mumble.

“Either way we’re going back to Seoul with that painting,” Taehyung grumbled, rubbing his temples at the information that was just given.

“I want to know why you think it’s going to be so easy confiscating that painting,”

Taehyung sighed, “It won’t be easy but we have the plan set out for tonight,”

“And what’s that?”

“Yoongi, Jock, and Mortdecai will sneak in and take the painting while you and I are down at the party showing our face and keep what they’re doing secret.”

“Is it safe with all of us separated like that?”

“No,” Yoongi mumbled, “but tonight is our only option to get that painting back into our hands.”

“I don’t understand why in the hell we stepped foot into America. That painting was dangling above your heads and you had no idea,”

“I didn’t know that Jungkook hid the piece in my car!” Taehyung defended.

“This whole trip was a waste of my fucking time,” You mumbled. You wanted to pull your hair out. You don’t know how you all sat so dumb like in that car with the fucking Odalisque hanging above your heads. This whole trip was stupid and honestly, you didn’t have it in you to attend this party but since Taehyung introduced you as his girlfriend, you had no excuse to not go.

“I wanna know how Jungkook got ahold of that piece,” Taehyung mumbled, his gaze falling onto Yoongi who could only shake his head.

“I wanna know who killed poor Miss Choi over this painting,” You whispered mainly to yourself.

This question still lingered over your head. This whole trip surrounded the painting but you couldn’t get too upset, this painting was a key to her murder. There must be a shitload of money in this account for someone to kill an innocent woman and if Kim Myung-Dae had enough trust in her with that painting then he wasn’t expecting anyone to be snooping around for that particular piece.

You kept to yourself, minding your business as Taehyung discussed the plan once again with the crew. They all left you in the dark as you put on your makeup besides the part where you would be tucked underneath Taehyung’s arm with an earpiece stuck in your ear. You weren’t mad at any of them but you were merely dumbfounded. You never understood why Mortdecai sold this piece to this foreigner and you never understood why Taehyung trusted him but he’s putting all his trust into this man, allowing his own hitman to sneak in and steal this fake painting back. 

None of this made sense and for some reason, you had a bad feeling about this. Ever since you joined the detective field, anytime you had a shooting going down or someone gets murdered, you always itched behind your left ear and right now, your ear is burning. All you could hope is that everyone was safe… including Taehyung. 

The soft feeling of hands laying across your shoulder brought you from your thoughts. Your eyes trailed up the figure through the mirror, landing on Taehyung who only stared back, a soft smile settling on his face. 

“You look beautiful,” He mumbled leaning down and placing a sweet chaste kiss to your cheek. 

You only smiled back, pushing yourself off the seat and lacing your feet in your heels. Wrapping your arm around Taehyung’s, you both head out the room, music filling the hallways. Everyone else done made their way down, checking the area. On the outside you were stone-cold, smiling at people who sent you one but on the inside, your heart was thumping faster than it should. You should be used to this you tell yourself over and over as Taehyung weaved you through the crowd. 

“Coast is clear,” Yoongi grumbled, your body jumping at the sudden sound. 

“Alright,” Taehyung answered back, his eyes falling on you as if he was speaking directly to you. 

Your eyes skimmed the crowd but they immediately fall upon a man whose eyes were already laying on you. Cocking your head to the side, you raise an eyebrow at him, the man sending you a curt smile before walking away. You felt yourself tighten your grip around Taehyung’s arm, his head jerking down looking at you. 

“What’s wrong?” He mumbled, placing a kiss to the top of your head. 

Before you could answer, a couple walked up to Taehyung, their smiles bright as they stared at your date. 

“Well if it isn’t Kim Taehyung,” The male mused, his tongue poking his cheek, “I haven’t seen you since your last shitty sale,” 

Taehyung smirked, “How’re you, Mr. Rossi?” 

The two bickered back and forth. You quickly tuned them out but as you glanced around the party once more, your eyes laid upon that same man again who was still staring back at you. Tightening your grasp once again, you tug Taehyung’s arm. Saying his goodbye’s Taehyung glanced down at you but the feeling of his body tensing, you had no need to tell him.

“Oh fuck,” He mumbled, “Yoongi, that man is here, he’s at the party.” 

Taehyung hissed, removing his arm from yours before wrapping it around your waist. 

“Who is he?” You asked, glancing back at the man who only followed you both. 

At this point, he wasn’t trying to be discrete. He was following your every step, your heart racing. Leading you around the back, Taehyung pushes you both into a corner, the man quickly walking past you two. 

“Who is that?” You hissed, your chest heaving.

“That was the fucker I told you about,” He whispered back.

“We’re in.” 

The brisk moment of you and Taehyung huddling in the corner away from that mysterious man ended as the sound of Yoongi yelling in your ear caught you off guard. Taehyung’s hand grasped your arm as he jerked you, shoving the large glass door open as he tugged you in the mansion. His breath was ragged, his eyes frantic as they searched around, landing on the spiral staircase that took you up to the room you were once getting ready in. Mumbling a come on, Taehyung jerked you up the stairs, the sound of yelling filling your ears as you near the top. 

“Yoongi!” Taehyung yelled, his voice echoing down the hallway.

A loud thud echoed down the hall, Taehyung’s head jerked towards the noise, his feet immediately walking and your arm let loose from his grip. You should be nervous but the way Taehyung’s hand gripped around his gun, bringing the cool metal up to balance in his other hand made heat pool and sadly, you should be ashamed but you’re not. 

You followed his figure in a room, Mortdecai, Yoongi, and Jock all stood around a desk and the mysterious man stood on the other side, a gun steady in his hands as he pointed it back. Glancing over, you noticed Don slumped over his desk, blood dripping from his fingers and the Odalisque settled underneath his head. Turning your attention back over to the man, Taehyung’s finger twitched, the pad resting against the trigger. 

“Who are you?” Taehyung seethed, stepping closer. 

The man chuckled, “Why does it matter to you? All I want is the painting, so please, give me the painting.”

“Tell me your name,” His deep voice echoed throughout the room, your body tensing at the sound. 

“Ademar Boucher,” He finally answered, “Now give me the painting,”

“Why would I give you the painting, hm?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, taking another step closer to the man, “You killed an innocent boy -my car guy for a matter-of-fact- you tried killing me and my man over here, and now you are stalking not only me but my date,” His grip around the gun fixed, his knuckles white at the amount of pressure, “Now tell me, why should I give you the painting?”

The man charged forward but Taehyung was quick to shoot, his bullet grazing into the man's arm. Your mouth dropped but you quickly jerked on 

Taehyung’s arm, his face scowling at you. 

“We need him alive,” You yelled, “He’s a possible suspect!” 

Before Taehyung could answer back, the man had stood up and escaped, his body jumping over the ledge and the painting still settled under the late Don’s head. Taehyung shrugged your grip off, his shoulders rolling back as he walked over, shoving Don’s head off the painting before rolling it up quickly. 

“We need to get out here,” He mumbled, “People will start to notice,”

Bumping his shoulder on yours, Taehyung exited the room, the rest of the men filing behind him. Rolling your eyes, you walked over to where Ademar escaped, the wind slowly pushing your hair as you saw him running off in the distance, his head jerking back to make sure any of you were chasing after him. Taehyung wouldn’t understand. He had a killers' state of mind when it came to this stuff but if Jimin’s accusations were correct, Ademar is a suspect. Not only for Miss Choi’s sake but for the sake of Taehyung’s car guy — Jeon Jungkook.

Walking back into the hallway, Taehyung had your bag in his hand, the Odalisque under his arm and both your outfits dangling over his shoulder. If you weren’t so agitated with him, you would find the gesture cute but killing the man would only make matters worse. You were still on this case, still trying to find the murderer of Miss Choi and if you could pick up any lead, you were going to take every chance you get. 

The car ride back was silent, Taehyung not speaking a word. Mortdecai done said his farewells, claiming that he had some business back in London to worry about. Your farewells were bittersweet, loving every moment you spent with the man but here you were, stuck with one who could bite your head off because you wouldn’t allow him to kill someone. 

The clicking sound of the door shutting made your skin crawl. Your body was tense, the atmosphere thick and all you could do was swallow the thick lump in your throat as Taehyung’s front brushed against your back, dropping your makeup bag in your suitcase. Your hands involuntarily clenched at your side, your jaw clenching before you turned around, Taehyung already staring back at you. 

“What’s your fucking problem?” You hissed, kicking your shoes off but never breaking eye contact. 

“I don’t have one,” His tone was too calm and this made you even hotter. 

“Bull fucking shit,” You yelled, “You’ve been sulking since I stopped you from killing Ademar—“

“Yeah because that was an easy fucking kill, ____!”

“Taehyung I have to have that man alive! He is a suspect for the killing of Miss Choi and he also killed your friend, so I have to keep him alive until I am one hundred percent positive that he killed her,”

“How is he a suspect?” After laying both your clothes down, Taehyung kicked his shoes off, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt, ridding himself of his belt before he sat on your bed, leaning back on his palms. 

“Is it not suspicious that he’s so determined to get that Odalisque? I’m sure he knows about the account numbers,”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Then why else would he be so adamant about stealing the piece?”

He only hummed, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip as he processed what you said. He couldn’t be mad at you because he knows your reasoning is true and he truly wanted justice for Jungkook. It still breaks his heart to this day but its something he faces all the time—death.

You could only let out a soft sigh as you reached behind your back to unzip your dress, dreading to take this beautiful piece off. Although the night went somewhat planned, you couldn’t lie and say that Taehyung didn’t look hot as hell in his suit, the buttons nearly popping with his chest being so broad. The simple thought made heat pool below, your thighs clenching at the thought.

“I didn’t get to tell you tonight but you looked gorgeous,”

“Thank you,” You mumbled, turning around to give him a soft smile.

Chuckling, Taehyung pushed himself off the bed, wrapping his arms around you before peppering your shoulders with soft kisses, goosebumps erupting across your body. His hands slowly made their way to your hips, gripping the spot gently, sinking his teeth into your skin as he brought your backside to his front, his erection pressing against your ass, the feeling making you blush.

“Are we really about to do this?” You giggle, turning around in his grasp. His eyes fell onto you, “It’ll have to be quick,” He mumbled, “We have an early plane to catch.”

Nodding your head, you gently grab Taehyung’s face before pulling him down into a kiss, your lips molding together as they perfectly moved in sync. You will never get over this; his lips, his smell, his body, Taehyung. His fingers found their way to your back, unzipping your dress and pulling the fabric down, his warm hands pressing against the smooth skin of your back. You were nearly bare and this made Taehyung growl. Pulling back, Taehyung gripped your hips before spinning you around, backing you up until your legs hit the back of the bed, your body falling flat.

“Scoot up,” He demanded, unbuttoning his pants.

Nodding your head, you scooted your way up to the top and watched as he jerked both his pants and underwear down, his dick smacking against his stomach, the tip an angry red. You licked your lips, wanting to suck the living soul out of him but once again, he gave you a tsk before pushing you back, your body conforming to the mattress as he hung his body above you, his gold chain sparkling in the under the dim light.

Slowly, his hands danced their way down your body, curling around the band of your underwear before jerking them down, the cool air making your thighs clamp shut. It was embarrassing how wet you were but at this point, your worries were out the door and all you cared about was the gorgeous man above you.

The feeling of his hands gripping your thighs brought you out your trance, your breath stopping in your throat as he jerked your thighs apart, the feeling of your lips pulling apart made you squirm.

“Fuck,” He huskily growled, “Already drenched and I haven’t done anything,”

He lowly chuckled, dropping his body to the bed before licking a wide stripe up your cunt, your body arching at the feeling. You could never get over this, the feeling of his tongue pressed against you, his hands roaming your body and most importantly, the way his eyes never left yours as he ate you out viscously. Swirling his tongue around your clit, his middle finger pressed into you, the feeling still foreign but the stretch made you moan, pleasure rolling over your body as he thrust back and forth. Adding another finger, Taehyung began sucking your nub, moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion. All you could do was wrap your fingers in his hair and clench your thighs around his head. If he was honest, he wouldn’t mind dying between your legs.

He slowly sucked on your sensitive nub, the feeling making you see sparks, the feeling indescribable and once he added another finger, the stretch burning but pleasuring all at the same time, you felt the familiar burning coil grow in your stomach and all you could do was let out a whimper and grip his hair, tugging on the poor locks. A moan fell between his lips, vibrating against your skin and that caused you to snap, your back arching, all you could see was black.

Getting you through your high, Taehyung pulled back, bringing his fingers up to his mouth, licking the juices off his fingers, never breaking eye contact with you. This made you throb once more, the obscene sight before you making you flush.

“You taste so fucking good,” He whispered, reaching over you to grab a condom, your hands coming up to lightly trace his chest.

“Hurry,” You mumbled, tracing his neck with your thumb.

Letting out a growl, Taehyung slipped the rest of his condom on before jerking your leg over his shoulder, his hand gripping your thigh and his other gripping his dick, rubbing it up and down your slit, coating the tip with your juices. His chest rose up and down slowly, his eyes focused on the way your juices glistened on his dick but that was soon over when you clenched over nothing, his body halting, his grip on your thigh tightening and in one quick motion, he bottomed out. A silent scream passed your mouth, your lips pouting at the feeling of being full. He was thick, almost too thick. It took everything in him not to cum on the spot, the way your walls clenched around him from the sudden intrusion felt too good, soft grunts passing his lips. Your fingernails dug into his skin, your chest heaving up.

“M-Move,” You grunted, wrapping your legs around his hips.

Pulling back, Taehyung’s tip settled against your opening before he thrust, his hips smacking against your clit making you arch your back once more. With a couple of hard thrusts, Taehyung finally set a pace, his body hovering over yours as he left sloppy kisses across your neck, sucking, biting down and any part of your skin that he could. After only having sex with you once, Taehyung remembered exactly where your spot was at, hitting the sensitive area with ease, causing you to see stars with every brush of his tip. With your feet digging into his ass, your hands clawed up his back and into his hair, the obscene sounds of your juices squelching with every thrust made your body tingle.

“Y-You’re so fucking tight,” He grunted in your ear, his breath hot against the skin.

Pushing his face back, you brought his face down to yours, pressing your lips together. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip, you obeyed, opening your mouth and letting his tongue roam your mouth, tangling with your own. The sound of moans falling from Taehyung’s lips was swallowed by you and these sounds were like music to your ear. Pulling back, a string of saliva followed as he sat back on his feet, his eyes falling down to where you two connected, “Turn over,” He grunted, pulling his length out.

Sighing at the lost, you turn around onto your stomach wiggling your ass. A low, deep chuckle passed his lips before he roughly gripped your hips, ramming his dick back into your sopping hole, setting a brutal pace. The sound of your skin smacking together filled the room and all you could think about was how his dick was hitting your g-spot better in this position.

“I-I’m close,” You moaned, clenching the bed sheets between your fingers.

“Same,” He grunted, rolling his hips into yours.

His hand left your hip, bringing his thumb up to his tongue, swiping the pad before pressing it against your clit, rubbing quick, curt circles. The action made your body twitch and with two final thrusts, Taehyung had you falling apart on his dick, your walls clenching around his length.

“Ah, ah, fuck,” You hissed, your body falling limp but Taehyung was quick to catch you.

Taehyung rode out your high and his own hips began lagging. We a few final thrusts, Taehyung pressed his cock in you, his grip around your hips tight as he panted, his dick twitching with every spurt of his cum. Hovering over your shoulders, Taehyung pressed gentle kisses, his heavy pants fanning your back before he fell over, his hand coming down to his dick and taking off the condom, tossing the used rubber in the bin.

“That was amazing,” You mumbled, tracing circles on his chest.

Letting out a soft chuckle, Taehyung threw his legs over the bed and made his way to the bathroom, bringing a wet washcloth back before cleaning you up, sliding new underwear on and tossed one of his shirts over to you. Gaining enough energy to sit up, you pull the large fabric over your body and fell limp into the bed once again, making Taehyung laugh.

“Let’s get some sleep,” He yawned falling down beside you, pulling you into his body before draping the covers over your bodies.

“Good night,”

You shut the car door behind you, your black shades covering your eyes from the bright sun, your all-black outfit soaking in the warm rays. Sadly, Kim Myung-Dae passed of old age before you came back. You, Jimin, and Taehyung all stood outside his home, people crying, sniffling and all you could think about was the grand prize that was stored inside his home. 

“Where is the piece?” Taehyung mumbled, nodding his head at an elderly woman who patted her eyes gently. 

“When you guys were off having a grand time in America, I came and talked to him myself—“

“what?!” You and Taehyung quipped at the same time, your mouth falling open with shock at Jimin. 

“How’re you, Mr. Kim,” Jimin smiled, shaking the old man’s hand.

“Ah, I’m good,” He coughed, gesturing for Jimin to sit down.

“I’m sorry to hear about your loss…about Miss Choi that is,” 

Myung-Dae sighed, “She was my bug but bless her, what a terrible way to die,”

Jimin nodded his head, his eyes scanning the room, “Is there anything you have to remember her by?”

The old man nodded, pushing himself off the couch before scooting himself over to a door, disappearing before coming back with a painting. Turning around, Jimin’s heart dropped, his mouth going dry. The Grande Odalisque was hanging—barely—in his nimble fingers. Jimin wanted to jump in joy, to snap a picture of what was being shown in front of him to you but he coughed gently, nodding at the poor man who placed the picture back in the room. 

“This painting has been in my family for years and I’ve always trusted Miss Choi to clean it,”

“Of course,” Jimin smiled, “I must be on my way. If you need anything, please let me know,”

Giving Jimin a tight hug, Myung-Dae sent Jimin off, settling himself back on the couch. Jimin tried his hardest to contain his excitement, biting his tongue, cheek, anything he could because right there in this man's house is the piece that everyone was looking for.

“Wow,” You hummed, “So you know where the painting is at?” 

Nodding his head, you all went inside and stopped by his open casket, the sight making you grimace but soon Jimin led you to the room. Jimin pointed at the door in the corner, letting you know that that was the room before guarding the entry. Taehyung was quick to jog over there, his hand pushing the door open. With his mouth wide open, Taehyung’s eyes grazed over the number of paintings that were hanging in this secret room; however, one picture, in particular, stuck out to him. Wrapping his fingers around the small photo, his heart sunk at the sight of Jungkook wrapped in the arms of Myung-Dae. 

“What is it?” You whispered, eyes stopping on the man whose shoulders were slumped. 

“Kim Myung-Dae was Jungkook’s grandfather,”

You took the photo from Taehyung, your eyes settling on the two who were smiling brightly, the love of a grandson and grandfather evident through this photo. You gently placed the picture down and looked back at Taehyung whose eyes were still on the photo. 

“Taehyung,” You whispered, hands settling on his cheek, “You couldn’t stop it.”

“I know,” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before grabbing what you came here for, the Grande Odalisque. 

Rolling the painting up and sneaking out through the back, Taehyung takes you and Jimin back to his place. Rolling the painting out, Taehyung flipped the piece around, a low fuck passing his lips. The back of the painting was blank, with no set of numbers or anything to clarify that this was the original piece. You felt your head throb and you felt the urge to smack Jimin multiple times on the back of the head but the quick movement of Taehyung pulling stuff from a cabinet made you stop from whacking the poor boy. 

“They’re smart,” He mused, setting his equipment down. 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you watched as Taehyung poured a mysterious liquid on the back, telling Jimin to shut the lights off before switching on his blacklight. Your body filled with relief, there was the numbers you all had been searching for, safe and on the back of the original piece. You wanted to scream with delight and kiss Jimin on the cheek. Taehyung let out a relieved sigh, running his fingers through his hair. 

“You’re so fucking smart, Jimin,” He praised, patting the man on the back who only stood with his chest puffed out, pride settling through his veins. 

Rolling the painting back up, Taehyung tucked it away in a safe. Praising Jimin once more, Taehyung sent you two off, saying that he had some business to do and with that, you and Jimin headed back to the office, your mind flourishing with excitement but you still had a murder to figure out. 

Walking through the halls, Jimin continued to ramble in your ear, praising not only himself but you and Taehyung for the handwork you did—even though you left him back in Seoul which he is still salty about. Seokjin’s office came into view and with one knock, you pushed yourself in, Seokjin’s face shocked by your surprise. 

“Well, you were almost gone for a month, got any leads?”

Sitting down, you let out a soft sigh, “A lot happened over this investigation but I’m pretty sure I know who killed Miss Choi.”

His ears perked up, “And who might that be?” He quipped, lacing his fingers together as he sat up straighter. 

“Ademar Boucher. A French man whose been harassing not only Kim Taehyung but others around him and killing people in his hunt for this painting. I know for a fact he killed a car service guy by the name Jeon Jungkook, killed an American man named Don Simmons, and tried killing not only Taehyung, but me, Taehyung’s bodyguard Yoongi, and two other foreigners who helped us on this investigation.”

He nodded his head, “When do you think he will hit next?”

“Glad you asked,” You smiled, “I have a hunch he will show up at the Art Gallery Auction event this Saturday. I need backup there, Seokjin, there’s no telling what he’ll do,”

“Of course,” He nodded his head, “I will have Jimin and Hoseok to be there as well as your own personal backup,”

After the meeting, you invited Jimin to go get coffee with you, which he eagerly agreed. Taking him to your favorite spot, you both found comfort in a secluded corner, the sun setting which radiated off of Jimin’s skin beautifully. 

“So,” He started, taking a sip of his coffee, “how was it like spending almost a month with the notorious Kim Taehyung?” His eyebrow arched, a smirk evident behind his lid. 

You rolled your eyes, “I mean, we worked and he showed me around the cities that we stayed in and—“

“And fucked?”

You choked on your coffee, a few drops hitting the table as you hit your chest, “Jimin—“

“It’s pretty obvious that you guys fucked,” He shrugged his shoulders, 

“You’ve had this glow ever since you came back,”

“Glow?”

“Yeah,” He mused, “You seem more relaxed, your shoulders aren’t as tense, and the way you both talked to each other, looked at each other, and the sexual tension was way too obvious,”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your coffee, quickly wiping at the mess on the table with your sleeve. You didn’t think it was that obvious or the fact that you were “glowing”. Now that he mentioned, you did find yourself not as stressed, the weight of the world not evident on your shoulder as you hung around him. It felt nice not having to protect yourself, to be overly aware of your surroundings, the feeling of Taehyung being there made you calm. If you were honest, he felt like your own personal bodyguard. He made you feel warm and giddy inside but you wouldn’t tell Jimin that because he would dangle that in your face and never let it up. 

“Fine, we had sex…” You staggered.

“Had sex…”

“Two times,” You said in more of a question. 

Jimin’s mouth dropped, his hand coming to cover his mouth as he giggled quietly into his sleeve. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior, looking around embarrassed, hoping no one heard your confession even though none of them know of Kim Taehyung. 

“Wow,” His grin was stupid, “two times, huh? No wonder you have a glow. His semen must be a wonderful moisturizer.” 

Your cheeks immediately flushed and you abruptly stood up, reaching across to land a loud smack on the back of his head. His laugh echoed throughout the cafe, earning some looks from strangers and all you could do was sulk in your embarrassment as he happily giggled. You were ready to kick his shin under the table but your phone vibrated your leg, your heart fluttering at the name that popped up. 

From: Tae

 Come over, yeah? I miss you :(

Your cheeks flushed and with one final glare at Jimin, you threw your head back, downing the rest of your drink.

“I’m leaving,”

“Oh, was that Mr. Right?”

You let out an annoyed sigh before scooting your chair under and a frantic Jimin scrambling around to catch up with you. Bumping his shoulder with yours, Jimin paused outside the cafe before looking at you.

“I’m happy for you,”

You glanced up, “Thanks, Jiminie,”

With a quick side hug, you both parted ways. You pulled your phone back and sent Taehyung a quick message, putting your car into drive.

The ride there was quick, your foot on the pedal as you thought about all the things that could happen once you were there. Your body ached for him, your pussy even did and that makes you truly realize that you were hooked on this man. Just thinking about the evenings where he fucked you relentlessly made your toes curl and your cheeks flushed.

Thankfully, your car was parked in front of his house in a quick ten minutes. Your heels echoed as you entered the mansion, your eyes traveling to where you saw the familiar black hair. His back was facing you and all you could think about was running your fingers through his hair.

“Hi,” You mused giddily, sitting down in front of Taehyung.

His eyes fell onto you, his black hair falling barely above his eyelashes, his skin dewier than normal—fucking beautiful. Your thighs clenched at the sight of him and all you wanted to do was jump in his lap and ride him until you couldn’t cum anymore. The thought made your mouth water.

“How have you been?” He quizzed, cocking his head to the side.

“Tired but great,” You smiled, pushing your hair behind your ear.

He smirked, “I’ve missed you dearly—“

“I was just here earlier this morning,” You laughed.

“I know but we were just with each other every day,”

You nodded your head, eyes falling to the floor at the feeling of his gaze burning into you. Your fingers gently played with each other as the tension grew thicker. It was embarrassing how many times you two have already fucked. It was only two times but still, it seems like a lot but it's like you two cannot get enough of each other.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” You asked, dying to break the tension.

He sighed, “Ready as I���ll ever be.” He sent you a curt smile before pouring himself some more wine.

“What’re you going to do with the painting, the real one that is?”

“I’m going to keep it here and place the fake on in the auction, make money off of it.”

“Will the other art dealers know that its fake?”

He smirked, “That’s the fun part, they never know until they’ve bought the painting.”

You lightly laughed, “I see,”

You both sat in silence, both of you want the same thing but both too scared to mention it. The question was on the tip of your tongue but the lump in your throat was your excuse for not verbalizing the simple question: ‘Hey, wanna fuck?’.

“Come with me,”

You jumped at the sudden command but agreed when he reached his hand out, wiggling his long fingers. Lacing your hand with his, you follow him up the stairway, awing at the paintings that decorated the walls. He always had a beautiful home but you never got to see the rest of it, only meeting in his lounge room or his study. His hand gave yours a soft squeeze before he pushed open a door, a large king-sized bed coming into view. Your heart fluttered, your mind already knowing what was going to happen. Sighing softly, you look around, his room being just as beautiful as the rest of his home. Paintings decorated his walls and one picture in particular stuck out to you—a picture of him and his parents, two smaller children hanging around them. You awed at the picture, looking up at Taehyung who was already glancing back at you.

“Who are they?” You whispered, eyes falling back on the picture.

“My parents and my two younger siblings,”

“They’re beautiful,” You smile.

“Thank you,” He smirked, “I haven’t seen them since I chose this lifestyle but I always send them money,”

Your heart awed at that. He was too precious and you were thankful you were seeing this side of him. This whole time all you’ve known was the businessman Taehyung, the killer Taehyung but now, as you both stand in his room, you’re seeing his vulnerable side. You wanted to stay in this moment together but the feeling of his hands wrapping around your waist and his lips leaving soft kisses amongst your neck, you knew this precious moment was coming to an end.

Lulling your head to the side, you reach back and tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Taehyung kissed harder, his lips sucking on one particular spot that made a moan slip through your lips, his dick twitching at the sound. Satisfied at your reaction, Taehyung licked the spot, awing at the mark that he left, the mark that would tell people that he fucked you, that you were his, it made his heart flutter.

Turning you around, Taehyung stared down at you, your eyes fluttering shut, missing the touch of his lips against your neck. Pushing you back, your body fell on the bed, your hair flaring out. Taehyung was quick to take a mental picture, your body laid out against his comforter, ready for him to take.

“What do you want from me?” He quizzed, unbuckling his belt before ripping it through his loops, the sound making your hole clench around nothing.

Taehyung squatted down and grabbed your legs, kissing the bare skin as his hands began undoing your heels. The simple gesture was sweet, making your heart flutter but the way his eyes screamed sex, you couldn’t focus on the cute gesture anymore. Tossing your shoes behind him, Taehyung dropped to his knees, his lips lightly grazing your skin before pressing wet, sloppy kisses on the inside of your thighs. He already pushed your dress up, the fabric bundled around your waist and all that came between him and your sweet nectar was the lace panties that were taunting him.

“What a slutty color,” He hummed, pulling at the band before letting go, the sound echoing through the room, “You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, your mind too fogged with euphoria; however, the low growl that rumbled throughout his chest made you whimper.

“Answer me,” He seethed, landing a loud smack to the inside of your thigh.

“Y-Yes!” You squealed, jerking your legs up.

Chuckling darkly, Taehyung left a chaste kiss against the growing red spot. Your chest heaved up and down, your eyes trickling with tears of pleasure. Taehyung was never this rough, holding back multiple times but now you were in his territory, his home, he was able to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Sweet girl,” He hummed, bringing his index finger down to your underwear, tracing the spot where your clit would be, barely touching the fabric, “already so needy for my cock.”

As if he read your mind, his face came closer to your core, his tongue flattening against the lace underwear, licking a thick stripe up to your clit, the feeling just as wonderful as before. A loud whimper passed your lips, your hands coming down to press his face closer to your core but he tsked, pinning your hands down to the bed.

“Do I need to tie you up, hmm? Pretty little girls like you don’t deserve to pull my hair. You have to earn it, yeah?”

“Y-Yes,”

“Yes, what?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Yes sir?”

He growled and next thing you know, your underwear was being ripped off you and his face deep inside your heat. A loud moan escaped your lips, your hands gripping at the covers. His tongue wasted no time in delving inside your hole, licking your walls as his hands held your hips down, making sure you couldn’t budge. This feeling was indescribable, the feeling of him finally being rough with you making your mind swirl. Your knuckles were white, your grip tightening the more and more his tongue sank deeper.

Taehyung finally pulled back, your juices following his chin, the sight filthy in itself. Satisfied with your reaction, Taehyung leaned down and placed a tender kiss to your bundle of nerves making your body jerk at the touch. Bringing his hand down, Taehyung palmed at the growing erection, a soft whimper, one that you couldn’t hear, tumbled out of his throat.

“You taste so fucking good,” He moaned, pushing himself off the floor, his gaze falling on your already fucked out figure.

Fluttering your eyes open, you pout at the man who stared back at you, your juices glistening on his chin. The sight made you awe but you were quick to shut your mouth when Taehyung leaned down, smashing his lips against yours. Moaning, you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling, tugging at the thick locks causing Taehyung to let out a set of moans. Biting down on your lower lip, Taehyung’s hazily gazed back at you before roughly thrusting his clothed erection against your sopping wet cunt, a smirk pulling at his lips at the sudden arch of your back.

“Want Daddy to fill you up? To fill your sopping wet cunt with my thick cock, hm?” He cocked his head to the side, bringing his finger up to your jaw tracing the bone, “Make my pretty little slut cry?”

All you could do was nod your head but the way his jaw clenched made you whimper out a quiet ‘yes Daddy’. A satisfied smirk fell onto his lips before he pushed himself back up, undoing his shirt. You quickly sat up and rid yourself of your clothes, completely bare underneath him as he took his sweet time taking his pants off, his bulge sticking out in his underwear, your mouth watering at the sight.

“I think Daddy is gonna let you suck him off tonight. Does that sound good?”

You licked your lips and nodded your head furiously. You had been waiting so long to finally feel his huge dick settled in your mouth. You wanted to feel how heavy it was and good he tasted and now, that you were fixing to find out, your mouth drooled at the thought.

Rolling yourself onto your knees, you crouch, making yourself look like an obedient dog as you waited for him to let himself free, his underwear barely keeping it tucked in. Smirking at you, Taehyung slowly pulled his underwear down, his length springing free and smacking against his toned stomach, precum smearing on his skin.

“What’re you waiting for, kitten?”

That was all you needed before your hand wrapped around his length. You awed at how pretty his dick was. Veins prominent all around and soon enough, your tongue licked up the underside of his dick, your cunt clenching at the sight of him throwing his head back. Taehyung moaned at the way your mouth felt around his cock and what matters worse were the small kitten licks you gave to his slit, your tongue nudging at the small opening.

“Fuck, you’ve got such a filthy mouth, princess,” Taehyung carded his fingers through your hair before gripping the strands, shoving your mouth down onto his length, “but I don’t have time for you to tease,”

Taehyung took control over your head, bobbing your head up and down, his length heavy on your tongue as his tip nudged at the back of your throat. Your hands came up to clench the back of his thighs, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his smooth skin. Pushing your head back with a loud pop, a string of saliva stayed connected with your lips until you wiped the back of your mouth, panting as Taehyung sent you one of his signature smirks.

“How about I fuck your mouth, yeah?”

Before you could answer, Taehyung’s hands found their way to your head, gripping the sides before shoving his cock in your already opened mouth. His thrusts were short and his balls slapped against your chin as he fucked your filthy mouth.

Taehyung pulled his head to the side, “You take daddy’s cock so good. Only sluts take a big cock like this so well,”

Your pussy clenched at the praise but to make him feel better, you let out a loud moan, the noise vibrating around his length making his hips stutter. Sighing, Taehyung pulled his cock at slowly, wiping your chin with his thumb.

“If I keep going you’ll make me cum,” He chuckled, reaching back to land a quick tap on your ass, “lay on your back.”

You found yourself nestled against his pillows and your thighs squeezed shut as his eyes fell upon your body, taking in every single detail about you. His dick twitched at the sight and Taehyung settled above you, his chain swinging back and forth on his neck, this being a newfound kink. Your fingers came up to wrap around the chain, gently tugging him down.

Laughing lightly, Taehyung pressed his lips against yours, your lips perfectly molding together as you both fought for dominance. Brushing his tongue against your bottom lip, Taehyung shoved the muscle inside, both tongues tangling together as your teeth clashed against his other. Spit slowly fell down the side of your mouth and you weren’t ashamed.

Taehyung’s palms slowly felt around your body before finding your pebbled nub, twisting the sensitive nerves, making your back arch. His other hand came up to your other breasts, squeezing, pinching the soft mounds. A soft sigh passed your lips, the sound making Taehyung’s dick twitch.

Releasing your lips with a loud pop, Taehyung moved his mouth down to your right breasts, swirling his tongue around your nipple, his other hand pinching and rolling the sensitive nipple between his fingers. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the feeling almost being too much but Taehyung was quick to switch to your other breast before leaving a sweet tender kiss to the mound he just harassed. 

Taehyung spent his time toying with your smooth mounds but he pulled back with a loud smack, leaving another sweet kiss to the reddening skin before pressing a trail of kisses down your body, his shoulders broad as he held himself up. His lips finally found their way to the top of your pussy, letting out a breathy laugh that sent goosebumps over your body. Pressing a tender kiss to the skin, Taehyung looked back up at you, his eyes filled with lust. 

“I’m going to make you feel good okay?” 

You nodded and soon enough Taehyung found himself face to face with your sopping core once again. You were still sticky from before but that didn’t stop him from sucking a hickey on your lip, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“T-Taehyung please,” You sighed, bringing your fingers up to your breast to toy with them.

“What princess?”

Your heart clenched at the name, “Please do something, I need you…Daddy,” 

Something in Taehyung clicked before his tongue was deep in your core and his nose rubbed against your sensitive clit. A silent scream passed your lips as your hands found perched in his hair, tugging at the locks once more. Pulling back, Taehyung quickly shoved his middle finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digit before easing it slowly in you, your walls clenching around him making his dick twitch. A soft moan passed his lips at the feeling but he quickly pressed his lips to your nub, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, sucking, nibbling until panted moans were all that was heard. 

“You taste so sweet and it’s all mine,” He moaned, pressing a tender kiss to your nub before pressing another finger in, “Look at the way your pussy swallows my fingers, doesn’t want to let them go,”

Normally you would be embarrassed at the filth that was spewing from his mouth but the feeling of your orgasm building was all that you were worried about. 

“I’m close,” You sighed beautifully, the sound making Taehyung twitch his head.  

Slipping in another finger, Taehyung thrust his fingers in and out quickly, the squelch of your juices filling the room and finally, you snapped, throwing you back up and your thighs shaking from being pleasured. Taehyung rode out your high, slowly thrumming his fingers in and out, his lips sucking so softly around your clit but you were quick to swat his head away gently. Pulling back, Taehyung pulled his fingers out before shoving the three digits in his mouth, sucking the juices off before leaning down and shoving his tongue back inside you, licking, sucking all your juices up, the lewd sound causing another orgasm build up. 

Clenching your thighs, you press Taehyung’s head further into you, reaching down with your hand to furiously rub four fingers against your sensitive clit. Your orgasm snapped and relief washed over you. Falling limp, you panted as you calmed down but once you opened your eyes, you wish you hadn’t. Taehyung’s chin was dripping.

“Fuck,” He mewled, “You squirted all over me,” He whispered before diving back down, slurping up your juices. 

You softly whimpered and nudged his head away. Bringing his form back up to you, Taehyung pressed his lips down to you hard, your juices mixing in with your kiss. You sighed at the taste, gently rubbing the nape of his neck. His hands slowly rubbed your thigh and his dick gently pressed against your sopping wet cunt, the feeling making him want to combust but he held back, more focused on the way your lips meshed together. 

He pulled back, “That was so hot,” 

You blushed, bringing your hand up to cover your face but he quickly pushed it down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Don’t hide, beautiful,” That only made you blush more. 

Taehyung sat back, his eyes falling to the wet spot that settled beneath your butt; this made him growl. Grabbing his length, Taehyung pressed his tip to your lips, rubbing the sensitive skin against your juices, his hip involuntarily thrusting forward, the feeling making him throw his head back. You watched as his adam’s apple bobbed up and down, the feeling making your hole clenched, making Taehyung’s head snapped up, his chest heaving up and down. 

“Are you on birth control?” He breathed, nudging himself in you slightly before pulling out, teasing you. 

“Yes, You breathed out, eyeing where you two connect. 

“Mm,”

Giving his dick one more quick pump, Taehyung gently pushed his tip in, sighing loudly at the feeling of your wet walls around him. Hissing, Taehyung bottomed out, his body shaking as his head hung low. You moan at the feeling of being stretched out but you quickly brought your hands to his hair, running your fingers through the locks soothingly as Taehyung half himself back from an orgasm. His breath was shaky as he looked up, his eyes falling upon you.

“You feel so fucking good, kitten,” He mewled, his tongue coming out to lick his lips.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you let out a needy moan, “I’m glad but can you please move?”

Something in him snapped before he brought a hand up to your neck, squeezing at the column, “Don’t boss me around, you fucking slut,”

You swallowed roughly, your pussy involuntarily clenched around his length, a pained moan passing his lips. Something in your snapped as well because you soon found yourself rolling your hips, trying to make any movement that made him feel worse. Letting an angry growl, Taehyung pushed himself up and grabbed your thighs before ramming himself in you over and over. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of him finally moving. His dick abused your g-spot with every thrust, making you see stars. He continued this brutal pace and you felt another build-up, your back slowly arching until you snapped, your walls fluttering around his length.

“Fuck,” He gasped, his hips stuttering as he rode you through your high.

His hips kept their pace and as you sunk back into the mattress, Taehyung sought out his high. Dropping one thigh, Taehyung hugged your other as he brutally smacked his hips against yours. You let out a soft whimper at the feeling of your body building up another orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum,” You sobbed, bringing your arm up to hang over your eyes.

“Fuck,”

Taehyung reached down, pressing two fingers firm against your clit as he rubbed furiously, his hips matching the speed. With a couple of more snaps of his hips, Taehyung yelled, his cum spurting into you. With another snap of his fingers, your orgasm rang through. His breath fanned against your chest as he rode out his high, your walls milking him dry. His body shook and suddenly his body fell on top of yours.

You immediately began raking your fingers through his hair, soothing the man whose body was shaking at the orgasm he just had. Pressing a soft kiss to your chest, Taehyung lifted his hips, his soft member falling out before he rolled over, your body missing his warmth.

“You are a kinky man,” You hummed, rolling to your side to face him.

He laughed, pushing his bangs off his forehead, “I’ve never cum that fast before,” He sounded fucked out himself and that made you giggle even more.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Taehyung pushed himself off the bed, shuffling his way to the bathroom before coming back with a cloth, cleaning you up gently. He went back to the bathroom but came back quickly, his bottom covered with new underwear and a shirt dangling from his fingers. Tossing the fabric to you, Taehyung rummaged through his closet, pulling out some grey sweats before handing them to you.

“Might need to stash you some clothes here,” He mumbled, shoving your feet through the pant's legs.

“Oh, so you expect me here more often?” You raised an eyebrow at the man who only raised one back.

“I would only hope so,”

You tugged at your gown, your nerves finally settling in. The art auction was slam packed, people buzzing about the pieces that were going to be on sale and the Grande Odalisque being one of the main pieces. Your hands were clammy as you neared the room, the cool metal of your gun feeling nice against your hot skin. Jimin and Hoseok were hot behind your trail, fitting in with the people around them. Seokjin’s extra men were piling in later, waiting for everyone to make their way in the room. The plan was simple: you were to auction as if you were going to buy, throw out some cash a couple of rounds and hope to snag Ademar.

“We’ll stand in the back, okay?”

You nodded at Jimin’s calming reassurance before taking a seat in the middle. Your eyes skipped around, trying to look for the devilish man but you didn’t see him, your heart falling. Rolling your eyes, you listen to the announcer.

“Five-hundred-thousand,” You called out to some random piece that you didn’t care for but another buyer called out higher.

Calling out a few more prices, your nerves began to get the best of you when you still haven’t seen the Odalisque. You were fixing to stand up but the feeling of someone sitting beside you made you stop. You were about to look until the feeling of a knife was placed underneath your thigh. Your breath hitched in your throat. Looking over, you noticed Ademar glaring back at you.

The announcer called out another painting, Ademar pressing the knife deeper into your leg, “Bid,” he demanded harshly.

“One-million won!” You shrieked.

Your ears were ringing, your nerves were on end until Jimin’s voice rang through.

“Taehyung’s in here,”

You let out a shaky breath. You felt eyes on the back of your head, knowing that it’s Taehyung’s and all you could do was shake, the pressure of the knife pressing deeper and deeper. Fortunately, the man called out the Grande Odalisque, your nerves heightening once more.

“You’re not going to win,” You whispered, looking over at the man.

His eyes raked over your face, “What do you—“

“Six-million won, that’s final,”

Everyone gasped, eyes falling onto Taehyung who walked up in the middle of the aisle. His eyes landed on Ademar who tried slipping out but Taehyung was quick to grab his arm, landing a solid punch in his face, Ademar slumping to the ground. Standing up, you pull out your badge.

“Ademar Boucher, you are under arrest for three counts of second-degree murder and for stealing,” You finished off the rest of his rights as Jimin and Hoseok brought him up to his feet, clamping the cuffs around his wrists.

Seokjin nodded his head at you before taking the man out. You felt an arm wrap around your waist and a soft kiss plant to your head.

“Why’re you so hot?” He chuckled, leading you out of the room as the room buzzed with confusion.

“You look hot,” You fired back, raising an eyebrow at the man.

Leading you to a counter, Taehyung paid for the piece and turned around, sending you a quick smile.

“Why did you buy the piece?” You questioned.

“So I can burn that piece of shit,”

You bellowed out a laugh as Taehyung led you out to your car. And as a man of his word, as soon as you both got back to his place, he threw the painting in his fire, the beautiful piece fading away as the fire ate it up.

“I’m so glad the case has finally closed,” You mumbled, brushing the fallen hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” He sighed, “me too. I don’t understand how you do this cop shit,” You laughed and kissed him quickly. Taehyung smiled down at you and brought you into a hug.

“I have a question,” He mumbled in your hair.

You pulled back, “What is it?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your cheeks flushed at the question. You had been waiting for this moment ever since the first moment you two had sex. He was everything you wanted in a man. He was beautiful, talented, and overall such a wonderful man.

To answer his question, you pull his thick folder out from your bag, tossing it into the fire, melting away with the thing that brought you together.

“Thank fucking god,”

It has been five months since the murder of Miss Choi closed. You’ve taken a break from the force for a month and spent the time with Taehyung but once that month ended you were back on your feet, solving cases and throwing people in prison; it’s what you loved. Ever since that case, Seokjin has placed you on more difficult cases, trusting that you will solve them because, after your wild ride with the Grande Odalisque, you were sure you could handle anything.

You and Taehyung have been going strong. He still did his thing and you did yours. Your sex life was out of this world and his love for you was unconditional and even though he wouldn’t tell anyone, he’s falling for you and he’s falling hard. You couldn’t blame him though, you were falling hard for him. Every day he surprised you and you found yourself canceling your contract with your renter and moving in with Taehyung. You spent most nights there anyways, moving more of your items in over a couple of months but he finally talked you into moving.

So, here you were laid up in bed with him, his arms wrapped around your waist as his head settled on your breast—just finishing from your third round of sex. Taehyung placed gentle kisses against your skin, his thumb grazing your skin. You both laid there in silence, soaking in the warmth and comfort of each other. The moment of silence ended however when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

“Who is it?” Taehyung mumbled, not wanting to let you go but did. Your face dropped at the message, your heart falling to your ass.

From: Seokjin Ademar killed. Poison found in his blood.

Your phone dropped out of your hand, bringing both your hands up to your face to rub your eyes. If your eyes weren’t deceiving you then this was going to be a total fucking nightmare.

“What is it?” Taehyung mumbled looking at you.

“Time to go find another killer.”

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