#and for those who want cramming tips: when i needed to cram i just literally either a. binged all recorded lecture videos or-

[purplefinatic]

you listen to me now boy. fuck midterms. fuck finals. what you do is grind out homework assignments and mini quizzes and projects and you get those minty fresh and you show up to class as often as possible and take notes even if you can't bring yourself to look at them later it'll help you to remember shit more if you write it down. unless you're in a Weirdo Class that only has a midterm and a final or if that shit's like 80% of your grade or whatever you can almost certainly be sure you can pass with a low grade and still have a b in the class these websites (2 of them) are your best friend when it comes to trying to figure how hard you have to study for finals and chances are you've been tryharding finals that you only needed like a 61% on

[merrock]

HUMP DAY ACTIVITY REMINDERS

Good morning, Merrockites! Rather than cram all of this into June's mod post, I thought with 48 hours to go before our next check, I would make a separate post to go over some activity reminders. (Bonus: I've included some advice/tips for those struggling a bit under the cut, as well.)

We will be having a big activity check on Friday that will check for the following things:

each character has made at least two in-character interactions in one week's time (must be two different threads).

each character is interacting with two different writers in the group in the span of a two week period.

every writer has replied to at least one open starter in a month's time (should be applicable this month -- we have some new ones if you haven't yet!).

I would like to go into June fresh, which means we are going to drop all existing strikes and give everyone a clean slate -- but that also means moving forward, we will reach out to you if we notice a lot of strikes accumulating, just to see how we can help you out. As always, the check schedule can be found here.

A moment of full transparency: I set up checks on Thursdays, most of the time. It's my "work day" on main, anyway, and allows me to take my time to double check blogs and see where people are with activity, and then double check Friday and remove those who logged in during that last little bit. If you wake up Friday morning with a notification that you are on check but your blog is not on check, there's a very good chance you were on the original draft of check and were active in that last 24 hour period, and Tumblr is just glitching. You are only on check if your blog is listed, promise.

I've stressed a lot lately about how groups are only successful if everyone does their part, and that they only really work if we keep in mind that we all rely on one another to keep activity up and things going. This is true! But I wanted to maybe try and offer some advice / tips / things that help me out with activity, for anyone who has asked lately, or might be struggling.

trackers are a handy tool! you can set one up in a google doc, in notepad, on a literal notepad, whatever you want. it helps you keep track of what threads you have, who owes who, what writers you're writing with, etc. for me, it's a fabulous way to keep a visual of whether or not i am able to meet all of my activity goals re: writers and two threads per week. but remember: trackers are for you and your eyes, they don't need to be someone else's responsibility!

working in order is helpful for you & your writing partners. i know, i know, muse is stronger for some threads (and that's okay, as long as all of your stuff is being worked on regularly alongside them), but -- either you or your partner are going to lose muse for other threads that are sitting for longer periods of time while you're working on the same ones repeatedly, you know? try to work on things oldest to newest when you can, to avoid that. use time stamps! say "oh, i need to get to all these threads from last week / three days ago / yesterday!" to keep 'em going.

if you play multiple characters, keep them equally active. whether it's setting a goal of doing five replies on each of them at a time, doing a certain time's worth, whatever works for you! it's important to remember that all of your kiddos should be treated equally, and try to balance activity across all of them, so they're all an equal part of merrock. it's like... you know, they're your babies. they all get the same portion of macaroni and cheese at the dinner table.

i one hundred thousand million percent would rather see you just be active and having fun and cementing a sort of presence for yourself in the group, participating in events and enjoying your time in merrock than watch anyone stress out about being "caught up" on replies. it is way less important to me that you are 100% caught up, done, everything replied to than seeing that you are replying to new starters regularly, making an effort to reach out to others ooc, trying your best to maintain steady activity. promise.

The reason that I say all of these things, and try to offer advice and help and encourage people to be more cognizant with activity is simple: people rely on you in a group setting. Pushing off a reply for another week, only doing replies on certain characters, dropping threads, even sitting on finished threads that someone's waiting on all could be the difference between someone ending up on check or not -- that one reply could mean that they don't have a second writer for the two week period, or they were desperately waiting for your response to even meet the one week goal.

Some of these things might help you. Some of them might not! People work in different ways, and that's more than okay! But since I've had some people ask for help, or mention struggling lately, I thought that heading into the summer, it would be a good day to offer advice and try. xx

[jorgensenmack97]

Even Small Projects Need A Little Design

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[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

[wrenhyperfixates]

Not So Alone

Pairing: Loki x female teen!reader (platonic) Summary: Meeting a young fan of his gives Loki some renewed hope. Warnings: none :) A/N: Here you go nonny! Hope you enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki was never one any person thought of much note, a sad fact he’d near resigned himself to, setting his face and body into an unbothered mask. The outside, at least, convinced everyone else, though no amount of staring at an emotionless reflection could impress upon Loki that he didn’t care. His mind was far too tumultuous for that. Anyway, for being the God of Lies, Loki has never figured out how to effectively lie to himself.

Five years in the Avengers Tower was far more than enough for the downtrodden god, and now he lived in an unremarkable apartment building that held some kind of charm to him, if solely for the reason there was a small, privately owned bookshop beneath it. He enjoyed the neatly arranged books in the display window, greeting him as he walked up the three stairs to unlock the building crammed in with so many others every day. Once his courage had been gathered two months after his initial move, he’d begun frequenting the store often.

Regardless of whether he was able to escape the relative misery he found himself stewing in by living in the Tower, he still had to work with the team that still managed to hold some amount of contempt for him even after he’d proved himself repeatedly. Simply, they weren’t cut from the same cloth, and when trying to sew the fabrics together, they clashed something awful. A truly dreadful state for a team of superheroes to work in, remarked Loki to himself often, and had resolved to make himself as small and agreeable as possible, though the sharp wit never died in his tongue. Such an attitude as he adopted seemed to suit the others just fine, and missions were carried out successfully and without any major mishaps more often than not.

Today he was heading that familiar way up to his home after a trip to the supermarket, when he saw a young girl sitting on those slate steps he could take two at a time if he really wanted to. Midgardians aged differently than what he was used to, so he wasn’t much good at supposing someone’s age, but he thought you looked to be about in your teenaged years. You were sitting glumly upon those cold, grey steps, staring down at the blank, stark white pages of a sketchpad. Your eraser on the tip of the pencil made a dull thump-thump-thump as you tapped it against the emptiness waiting to be enlivened by strokes from the opposite, leaden end.

“Pardon,” he said, carefully moving on your side.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I-” you cut off with a heinous sort of gasp, the kind Loki would have thought fake if not for the raw feeling behind it. “Y-you’re Loki!”

“Ah, so I have been found out,” he chuckled, somewhat nervously. It seemed you said it with a sort of starstruck wonder, but he could hardly believe such a thing possible and figured it was wishful thinking on his part.

“Oh my gosh!! I’m your biggest fan,” you squealed before introducing yourself and brandishing your still unfilled sketchbook and pencil toward him. “If-if it’s not too much trouble, could I maybe get y-your signature... Please?”

Now the shoe was on the other foot, and he felt shock at this stuttered request. It felt almost like some long forgotten fever dream. Someone wanted his signature? At this point, it was a small thing for the other avengers at this point, but not so for Loki, who so many were still afraid to meet eyes with. He could have continued wistfully standing there as if reminiscing over some passed joy, but this was the present, and he did not want to disappoint his biggest, possibly only, fan.

“Alright,” he granted, putting down his bags of fresh produce and fish he was planning on cooking up for dinner that night. He took the offered paper and scrawled a quick note, made out to the name you’d given him moments before. He was never much of an emotional speaker, but he hoped it sufficed. He finished with his well-practiced, looping signature. “Here you go, little one.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Loki!”

He chuckled a little at the sound of the name. True, he went by no surname as he felt he didn’t belong to any one particular group or family, and would rather not be reminded of his lineage, true or otherwise. Still, hearing the honorific before his name was unusual, especially when your continued respect prompted you to offer to help with his groceries.

“I am certain you need to be running home soon, it is almost dinner time. But I appreciate it immensely.”

“Don’t worry about that,” you persisted, grabbing a bag anyway. “I lice in the building. We just moved here. But you save the city literally all the time, and your powers are so cool! You deserve a little extra respect.”

“If you say so,” he managed, still in a fit of disbelief. “If anything, it should be because I am elderly. Over 1,000 years old, you know,” he joked.

Indeed, you did know, and began to ask him a series of questions about things he might have experienced in history, though pausing to ramble about how you hoped you weren’t pestering and to stop you if you were, he interjected it was no bother at all. By the time you reached the third floor where his rooms resided, you were bubbling with uncontainable excitement, sharing that your new home was on the same level, just a few doors down.

Once you’d helped him deliver his things to his table, he showed you back to the door when you told him your father would be home from work at any minute, and the god thought it important to introduce himself to his new neighbor. In those few minutes, you began to shy away again, that stutter coming back, as if you’d realized anew just what exactly was happening.

Loki shook the hand of the man you’d identified as your father, a nearly middle-aged sir who was just on the cusp of graying. He exchanged a quick conversation with him that resulted in an invitation to dinner that weekend. The god was near sure you were ready to collapse with excitement when he said yes, but you managed to remain relatively calm, though there was a certain spark behind your eyes. Still, it was a school night, and you had some homework to complete, so you all said goodbye to each other and went your separate ways.

As Loki settled down for the evening in his favorite, comfy armchair with the book he’d started the night before, for the first time in a long time, he felt not so alone, and most thrilling of all, he felt appreciated.

[softenerescape]

Feedee Teasing

Part 1: Greed

So this greedy whale wants some food does she?

Look at yourself! Look at all that flab! You’re disgracefully obese and you still just want to eat more and grow fatter?!! Hungry for more to fill your shamefully huge overhanging gut are you piggy? Well okay then you bloated cow if that’s what you want then maybe it’s time you were taught a lesson! You really want more food? You’ll get more food alright! Open wide piggy! Let’s just stuff you so full of fattening treats that people will stare in horror as you swell up like a big fat human shaped balloon shall we? Give you all you can eat, yes even you porky! And then more, and more, and MORE. Strapped down and forced to eat, eat, eat! A never ending flow of sinfully fattening cuisine to stuff you full to the brim, overfull, until you swear one more bite might just make your stomach explode, a 24/7 overfed sow, so much food you’ll swear you can feel yourself getting fatter by the minute as you’re wheeled from restaurant to restaurant, buffet to buffet, and made to eat and eat until all the food is gone as everyone stares aghast in morbid fascination at the size of your belly spilling out in front of you, at your huge bloated body slowly but steadily bursting the seams of your clothes as you gorge yourself on dessert after dessert until every last one is gone.

Well?! Is that enough fucking food for you greedy-guts? Poking your belly makes you burp! Nope, there’s still room in there! Off to the next place. Do you like donuts? Four dozen for starters? Doesn’t matter how ridiculously full you are, you’re going to eat them ALL. Everyone knows you’re probably too helplessly horngry to resist anyway haha! Greedy gluttons as naughty as you never can say no can they? So why not wash them all down with full cream milkshakes! Just hook you up to the drink machine and pump you up until you can’t take any more? Sound good you obscene tub of lard?! Then everyone can watch you blow up with fat until you burst from your clothes, until you’re so fat not even your shoes can fit your bloated round feet! What’s the matter piggy? Too full? But that’s never stopped you before! You’ve gotten too fat to move? Well no matter then you’re not going anywhere till you’ve eaten every last donut in the store. Aww you’re so heavy your chair has collapsed. Damn you’re a complete fucking whale aren’t you? Don’t think that means this is over! We’ll just have to haul you around on a big 1 ton trailer or something. All that obscene fat wobbling unsteadily down the road as you travel to your next awaiting feast. I know! We’ll put some mattresses on it, several cause one won’t be wide enough before long, maybe soft rubber ones so we can hose you down between feedings. Haha we can do that at a carwash, imagine the looks you’ll get! Huge soapy obscene fat rolls as thick as a man’s waist glistening in the sun!

Where next? The chocolate factory? Okay and then the ice-cream factory! Think you can eat it all? Well you’d be in no position to refuse now that you’re a massive helpless fat blob! You’re so fucking greedy it’ll probably only take you a couple of weeks. We’ll make you eat yourself so fat and round it’ll be a struggle to wiggle your arms. So much blubber! Unable to do anything except watch yourself grow and grow until you’re the fattest woman there ever was and ever will be. Swelling up fatter, and fatter, and FATTER until you’re nothing but a gigantic horny round butterball. Constantly tempted with so many naughty tasty treats. You can’t help it that they taste so good can you? You can’t help it that they make you swell up like a balloon! A big horny balloon.

Whimpers and moans muffled by huge handfuls of cake as you feel your enormous bloated body expand by the minute, plumping up, up, up, as your huge overstuffed stomach extracts calories from ungodly amounts of food, forcing them unceremoniously into your fat reserves. So huge and FAT that you’d wonder if you might actually burst whilst your titanic belly digests your next meal, oh dear! Yes indeed you overfed sow, that’s far, far too fat for your own good! But even then it’s a good bet you’d STILL be hungry, wouldn’t you porky? Look at yourself and admit it haha! Guess we’d have to launch food at you somehow from a distance, no way we’re risking getting any closer to a girl who’s clearly so greedy she’d be in danger of eating so much she could blow any second lol!

That’s what happens when you’re such a shamelessly naughty greedy glutton! Be careful of the path you’re starting down fat girl! That appetite of yours is clearly already out of control! You better put down that box of donuts before it’s too late!

Part 2: Gluttony

You waddle to the fridge. I can hear your panting and wheezing and grunting for the effort of moving your gelatinous body. You're addicted to glutting that doughy body. You're never full, even when you're not hungry. You chew and slurp and pour thousands of calories down your throat. Meanwhile, your fatty form pleads for mercy. You know what the doctor said. You're already morbidly obese -- even with all your supposed dieting -- and your cholesterol is still climbing, your sugars are all off. You're so massive that you're winding from the effort of standing on your weak knees in front of the fridge.

Do you even care? You can barely hold yourself up, and you've only been standing a couple minutes. You're far too greedy to pull your lips away from the quart of cream you're sucking down. Instead you ease yourself to the floor, heavy body still landing with a thud. That feels so much better on your pained joints, doesn't it? Now you can focus on how turned on you are. How good all that cream swelling your blubber feels. You switch arms because one starts to tire, moving on to the next quart of cream with ease. You suck down more than your greedy mouth can hold. Two trails of cream seep from your greasy mouth corners. What a thirsty piglet.

Underneath the mountain of growing lard, you squeeze your thighs together. It just feels so good, your empty hog brain can barely process it. You feel sparks shoot from between your legs and crawl up your spine. You toss the second empty and your gut gurgles. All that gas rolling around just makes you hungrier and hornier. As if you aren't always hungry and horny, right? You used to pretend that, once upon a time. Good to see you've slipped so far into the pit of hedonism that you're incapable of thinking that deeply. It doesn't matter anyway, right? Eating and cumming over and over while you bloat and grow... that's how you'd rather spend your shortened life.

You reach your stubby arms into the fridge and pull down a mess of Tupperware. Most people don't have this many leftovers in their fridge, you know? But I keep cooking and cooking for you, making more food than you can handle. For now, at least. These fridge raids keep happening more frequently... is your appetite getting that much more insatiable? You don't think about that, though. You don't think about anything. You just tip container after container into your desperate maw. You make a giant mess, but it doesn't matter to you. Under the food stains and drippings, you feel pleasure. Your gut gurgles and gas slips out of you, but you barely notice. I hear your wheezy sniffing. It sounds shockingly close to real pig grunting. You smile dumbly at the wretched smell and suck more slop down.

What's happened to you? Is the old you still hiding under all that sweaty, stretch mark littered flab? Is the old you screaming, begging this new gluttonous monster to stop? Or since resigned, submissive to your gassy, growing form? A bassy belch rolls off your tongue. You're drooling -- is it from the taste or your room temperature IQ? It doesn't matter, because you work the cap off a two liter, and greedily suck it down. You get even gassier, and your smile looks dumber and dumber. Pleasure is painted across your features. Your eyes aren't even focused, just glazed over and half lidded. Are you high, or is that all you? Not to mention the trail of slobber and food remnants coating your chin, and the bits hiding in the chins below that. You've hardly got a neck anymore. Your body just keeps blowing up, and you can't even stop yourself. The better it feels, the less you fight. And from the looks of it, it feels heavenly.

You have no appetite control, that much is obvious. Just like your self-control and discipline, it has withered away. You force gas out of your gut with your thick fingers, then resume cramming in calories. I bet that feels so good, doesn't it? Look at how hard your nipples are. Those swelling tits. I bet you're making your undies pretty wet too. Too bad I can't see them between gargantuan thighs and an overfed sphere of a gut. Another belch rolls off your tongue and your eyes practically end up in your skull. Your stomach is too stretched to ever be normal again. Even if you stopped your constant grazing and night long stuffings, your capacity is through the roof. We can't eat the same meals any more. If there's not an excess of fats, sugar, butter, or bubbles, you won't be full. You need to be full to the brim, and more. And if bleary eyed fullness doesn't stop your over-indulgence, a piddly salad never will.

You just keep sucking down all that grease. Don't think too hard about it. Keep growing. Get dumber. Get fatter. It's okay, piglet. Nobody is judging you. Nobody knows that you used to be a quarter of this size. That you used to walk without breaking a sweat, that you could see your toes before, that you used to eat healthy. Don't think about before. Think about now, or nothing at all. I'll keep cooking for you, making sure my sow gets all the necessary nutrients, like lots of carbs and sodium and sugars. All you have to do is tip another Tupperware in your mouth, crack another soda open. The weight will pile on, and you'll get all the pleasure you need.

Let's see how long your body can handle it, shall we?

[readyplayerhobi]

Neon Seoul

; Cyberpunk Detective!Jimin x Detective!Reader

; Genre: Angst, smut, slight fluff

; Word Count: 25.7k

; Warnings: Murder, crime scene, discussions of crime and homicide, criminal gang activity, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

; Synopsis: It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important.

You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?

; A/N: I enjoyed writing this so much! I hope everyone enjoys it :3 it’s more cinematic style than normal so I hope you stick with it and that it’s fun to read! Please reblog if you enjoyed it and leave me feedback or reviews! Or send me an ask :D Also...I fully admit to not proof-reading this lol sorry about any mistakes!

-

The streets of New Seoul are dark tonight, the only form of lighting coming from the overly bright neon signage that screams for attention on every building. Hundreds of signs for thousands of promises, some real and some as real as the holo advertisements that rise like giants alongside the towers that rise so high, the tips vanish into the smog that hovers like a persistent malaise.

You could get everything your heart desired in 26th century New Seoul; from a warm body to keep you company at night to a quiet contract that would eliminate your foes. Nothing was legal and yet everything was legal. You just had to know the right people who knew the right people who knew the right loopholes.

Maybe it was some quirk in the law that meant they were able to flout their ability to wreak havoc in front of the police, or maybe it was simply that they had enough credits that they had important members of police in their pockets. It didn’t matter. People in this end of New Seoul did the dirty work for the people who lived in those tall towers, the building’s not so much ivory as the old metaphor went but more black with the years of rampant air pollution and dirt.

Moving your gaze from the neon visual assault to the ground, you grimaced slightly as you noted the disgusting street beneath your boots. Puddles of dirty water pooled along the uneven surfaces, filling every crevice they could find and the overwhelming stench of the garbage that had been unceremoniously thrown out of the building’s added to your distaste.

The water here was probably infected with something, it was that dirty. Glancing around the grimy back alley, you inhaled deeply and wrinkled your nose as you instantly regretted it. Even the nasal implants you’d been given once you’d graduated from the police academy struggled to filter out the sheer stench of whatever the hell was lining the streets in those bin liners. 

2621 and yet still, cities couldn’t control the waste system properly. Though what did you expect, given New Seoul hosted a population of over 75 million right now. Millions upon millions of people, crammed into the Mega City that had sprawled across the land slowly, swallowing up the smaller cities that stood in its path and obliterating the towns and villages.

You could travel for hours in either direction from here and still be in this godforsaken city. Sighing deeply, you heard a sudden gurgling to your left, the sound quiet yet instantly notable to your enhanced hearing over the quiet sound of investigatory conversation. A quick look over has you almost gagging, spotting a sewer grate that was bubbling to itself happily, as if it was some sweet brook with clean and crisp flowing water in a forest somewhere instead of the pure sewage it was spilling.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Can someone sort out the fucking sewer problem before it contaminates even more of the fucking crime scene?” You spat out, anger flowing through your veins as you gazed at the grate. It was almost mesmerising, in a completely disgusting way, how the water was so brown and thick that it almost struggled to flow. 

Turning away, you tried hard to control your gag reflex. It would not do for the senior detective on the investigation to vomit on the crime scene and contaminate it. Not only because you’d just complained over the sewer for that but also because it would just be fucking embarrassing.

The small alley was particularly dark compared to the rest of the city, the signage that was so prominent only really visible from the ends that led out into the bigger streets. No one would really bother wasting the money or time on a shitty alley like this. Literally, a shitty alley apparently.

There was still prominent neon though, only in the form of the holographic police barriers that had been erected, warning the public of an open crime scene. The yellow barriers hummed ever so slightly as you stood near it, the signage changing repeatedly from ‘POLICE’ to ‘CRIME SCENE’ to ‘PLEASE STAY BACK’. There were a few other messages in there but you’d seen them enough times to not even really notice anymore.

A few curious members of the public, whether they were residents of the buildings surrounding you or simple vagrants who called this alley home, and the idea of that made your stomach lurch, were stood just past the barriers. They wouldn’t come close to it. The only reason the barrier hummed was because it was being powered by a generator, the holographic barrier’s capable of accessing a person’s chip ID that resided in their neck.

If they were listed as being an active member of the police force, or other emergency services, then they were allowed through. If they were not...well, let’s just say it hurt. 

A hovercar landed at the end of the alley, the sound soft as it descended but becoming loud and prominent the closer to the ground it got. Safety precautions meant they couldn’t just make it completely silent. That was the quickest way to flatten some kid or idiot. Though in fairness, there were plenty of people you could think of that you wouldn’t mind getting flattened.

Still though, the tall figure climbing out of it was expected, hence why you were currently still standing outside of the crime scene instead of in it. The idiot was late, as usual. Probably spending his evening fucking some synth in the pleasure house near his apartment. There was nothing wrong with that obviously, you engaged in the services of the synthetic androids yourself, but it gurgled in the pit of your stomach that he’d chosen to stick his dick in one of those instead of you.

You’d like to say he didn’t know your feelings, but you knew he did. He hadn’t made it to detective without actually having some deducting skills, and you weren’t exactly being shy about wanting him. In fairness, no one was shy about wanting him. Detective Park Jimin was indeed a delectable specimen of a human male.

Walking closer, you heard the careful thudding of his black boots on the dirty cement, the two inch thick soles giving him even more height above you despite the fact that he wore the same police issue boots you did. Metal was firmly embedded in the toes of them, allowing you to kick the shit out of anything you needed to without harming your feet.

It just made him look more attractive though. The fronts of those boots laced up high, far past his ankle and tight black trousers clung to his beautiful thighs. You’d fantasised about those thighs many times in many different ways. A belt with an assortment of holders sat prettily around that thin waist of his, his gun holstered firmly while other important items such as a torch and so forth were also firmly put away.

A black shirt that shifted colour ever so slightly to give it an intriguing metallic look was covered by his usual black coat, the long leather that reached his knees adorned with an abundance of pockets and metal, the buttons in odd places while the coat itself was covered with silver symbols and illustrations that glowed, sinuously flowing from one symbol into another as he moved. The collar of his jacket was high, hiding the outline of his jaw as he walked up to you.

You could barely make out Jimin’s face in the darkness of the alley as he approached, the only thing visible at the moment was the vivid, glowing blue tips of his hair, shifting slightly in the breeze. He’d chosen over the last few months to grow out his luxurious black hair, the look makin him particularly rugged as he constantly looked like he’d just had the wildest sex. On top of that, he’d had the ends of his hair dyed with a cybernetic pigment which resulted in the unnatural neon glow, the tips already shifting colour from blue to a smooth purple. 

It looked good on him, and you most definitely approved. Not that he’d give a shit.

Finally he stood before you, a deep sigh leaving him as the yellow lighting of the barrier finally lit up his face for you. It gave him an oddly yellow cast, making his skin look sallow and unwell but you couldn’t deny that he was still beautiful.

Black geometric tattoos crawled up from beneath his shirt and coat, making their way up his strong neck with the right side creeping up his face as well. A swirl of thick black was painted up the side of his cheek, directly where his jawline met his ear and hairline before it burst into smaller lines, curling almost elegantly above his brow. It was one of the prettier facial tattoos you’d seen, and you weren’t sure saying that because it was him.

A black metal piercing studded the centre of the skin below his plush, pink lower lip. Besides from the abundance of piercings in his ears, that was the only other piercing you believe that he had. His left eye, under actual lighting, was it’s natural deep brown whereas his right eye was a cybernetic augmentation, the iris a highly unnatural vivid, neon pink that often bordered on magenta. 

He’d received the augmentation, along with a cybernetic arm, after an arrest had gone severely wrong when the suspect had detonated a homemade explosive, resulting him losing his natural eye along with also losing his right arm at the same time. It came in useful for him as it gave him access to the police database on the go, along with being able to identify people and record incidents with certain muscle movements. And that was to say nothing of the benefits the artificial arm gave him.

“You’re late.” You say shortly, looking up at your partner with an imperious eye as you drag your gaze down his body. He doesn’t look like he’d been interrupted mid-coitus, but you never knew with him. Jimin always liked to look prim and proper.

“Some people actually fucking sleep. Given it’s 3 in the morning, you know.” Rolling your eyes, you gestured for him to enter the crime scene and pulled a face at his back once he’d passed. You had a reputation to keep up, and that didn’t involve letting him see you being childish. Though you were, and he was probably well aware of that after five years of working together.

As Jimin passed through the barrier, the back of his coat immediately lit up with holographic text in bright blue, proclaiming ‘POLICE’. The same would have happened for you when you moved through the barrier as well, letting everyone inside know that Jimin and you were the investigative unit.

“So what is it? A junker? Sex worker? Some rando on the street?” He asked, standing over the top of the body. Almost immediately, it was clear to see that all of his queries were incorrect. The male on the floor was wearing fabric that was top of the range, a style that normally would be shifting patterns and colours. His dead body wasn’t producing the electricity required to power it anymore though, so it just looked like a very nice black button up right now.

Still, it was clear his outfit cost money. From the style to the fabric to even the design. It was only what those who could afford could wear. In fact, the victim’s clothing probably cost more than this whole street made in a week. On top of that, the old style wristwatch, an actual watch that ticked and told time and everything, looked to be ancient and the brand made your brows rise. 

That alone would pay your apartment’s rent for a year probably.

“No. Victim is Kim Namjoon. Son of Kim Minhyuk and Seo Jihyo. Yes...that Kim Minhyuk.” You said when Jimin’s brows rose as he looked at you sharply, his eyes narrowing until all you could see was a sliver of brown and pink.

“The fuck was the son of the mayor doing in this shithole? And not just this shithole, but this literal, particular shithole. I highly doubt the towers would want to spend their time here. I mean sure, idiots like this one might come to this part of the city as a dare or just for a wild night. But there’s nothing around here but residential buildings?” Jimin speculated, brow creasing as he poked his cheek with his tongue.

“You’re wrong, on a few things. First of all, towers,” You used the lower city slang for the rich and powerful who spent their lives in the towers that reached beyond the smog that hovered over New Seoul. “Are surprisingly common around here. You’re right in that they’re normally here just for a night on the rough side of town, but they’re not rare. And this isn't at all residential. There’s an underground casino just down the road. I have it on good authority that he was there.”

“The fuck? How do you know that? You don’t live here. And if you know where he was then what are we doing here? You obviously know how he died.” Jimin scoffs, leaning over to examine the victim’s corpse carefully. Grinding your teeth, you inhale deeply before letting it out slowly.

“Okay Park. Firstly, you too know how he died. It’s pretty obvious given, you know, the laser shot to his forehead. I’ve yet to encounter anyone who can withstand one of those. And secondly, I know because he wasn’t alone,” You gesture down the other end of the alley where another hovercar is parked, the door open and an elegant man sat in it. A few officers stood around, keeping watch.

“What? Who is he? Why aren’t we arresting him and questioning him?” He goes to start walking down the alley, his face grim and you grab his arm, pulling him to a firm halt. When he’s facing you, you gesture down to the Crime Scene Analyst currently crouched over the body.

“Jeon, what’ve you got for us. Please inform Detective Park here why it’s impossible his friend was the culprit.” Wide, dark eyes look up from beneath thick, curly black hair, a piercing cutting through one of the strong black brows on his forehead. Officer Jeon Jungkook had been a CSA for the New Seoul PD for over six years now and he knew what he was doing. Thankfully, that meant Jimin trusted him too.

The CSA stands, towering over both you and Jimin before he taps a metal circle implanted into his hand. A holographic simulation of the alley begins to glow above his hand in white, Kim Namjoon’s body outlined in violet. Other areas are red and you look around to try and identify those areas.

Jungkook’s eyes are the only thing visible about his face, the lower half covered in a black mask with two air filters poking out of the side. It was standard crime scene procedure for him, but you knew he enjoyed wearing it anyway. Long hair that was half wet curls around his face while his own black leather coat is equally covered in glittering silver outlines and illustrations. Black piercings liberally dot his ears, including a piercing at the upper shell of his ear with a slim black chain that connects to a piercing on his ear lobe. 

His hands are ungloved and you can see the start of black tattoos winding around his wrist. He was another one who was ungodly attractive, and it was made even worse by the fact that it was all natural. You’d known Jeon Jungkook since he’d joined the police academy at the fresh age of 18, his skin untouched at the time.

All that had happened over the years had been a careful refinement of already pretty features, solely from age and maturity. You realise that you’re too busy admiring the CSA when Jimin elbows you, not even the slightest bit subtly either. Glaring at him, you note his narrowed eyes and roll you own in response.

“The victim was killed with a single laser shot to the forehead, as Detective Y/L/N said. It was point blank range with the suspect wearing a size 11 boot. The treadmark indicates it was most likely either a Villainous or Pandemic boot, though I will need to do more in depth research to give you a more accurate reading. Mr Kim Seokjin, the witness over there, was standing behind the victim and to the right. He grabbed the victim as he fell, there’s DNA evidence on the victims shoulders. It’s impossible for him to have been the one to be the suspect. The witnesses' footprints come from that end of the alley and stop there, behind the victim. They never move around to the front. The other footprints come from the other end, stop in the front of the victim and make their way back.” He gives the report briskly, making sure to only include information that he can back up with evidence.

As he talks, he generates holographic figures on the street simulation, their feet matching the glowing red imprints. Kim Seokjin is in green, his own footprints backing up Jungkook’s words while the suspect is in red, walking in and taking out the victim with ease.

Humming lightly, you run your finger over your lip before glancing over at Jimin. “This...I know we’re not meant to make a speculation here but...a tower? In this area? In this alley? Getting murdered like this?”

“You mean the fact that this is the most blatant case of a hit killing you’ve ever seen? Yeah, I get you. That looks like the movements of an expert killer there. And there's clear motive behind it, even if we don’t know what that is right now. Mayor Kim isn’t exactly popular nowadays and he’s made plenty of enemies throughout the years. Some legitimate and some simply because he’s a person in power. Hitting him through his son is a clear and easy way to get to him.” Jimin muses to himself quietly, though you’re thankful he lets you into his mindset as well. 

After all, you are his partner.

“Maybe. We can’t rule anything out, you know that,” Looking at Jungkook, you point towards the body on the alley ground. “Jeon, can you make sure we get a full autopsy report? I want to make sure that we have all grounds covered. This is going to blow up with the towers, you know that.” 

The CSA nods once, the movement brisk. He turns away from you, noting something down on his holo report that has replaced the visual of the alley he’d been showing you both. Taking a deep breath, you make a face as the overwhelming scent hits you once more before looking at Jimin.

“Come on, let’s take the witness back to the station. I don’t think he’s going to give us a very good statement right now with his best friend lying dead on the alley. I think a change of scenery will probably do him some good, right?” Jimin is still looking around the alley slowly, almost as if he’s trying to find more evidence.

You don’t push him not to though, letting him spend as much time as he wants observing the scene of the crime. As good as Jungkook’s skills were, sometimes the CSA missed something. But you don’t have to wait long though as soon enough, Jimin is striding up to you with a neutral expression on his pretty face.

“I don’t think there’s anything else here for us to look at. We’ll have to wait for the report later but I think Jungkook’s found near enough everything already. Let’s go talk to our witness.”

-

The room that Kim Seokjin was being brought into had luxuriously soft couches and armchairs spread throughout along with low, black glass coffee tables. The walls were covered in old style photographs, the scenes portrayed of vistas that had died centuries ago. Instead of the customary vending machine with its nauseously bright holo-screen, there was a fancy machine in solid black, the options available on a touch screen that could be activated.

“So this is what seniority gets you, huh?” Jimin asks with a snort, his gaze tracking around the room slowly just as yours was. This was the break room for the senior members of the police department, those who had spent years working their way up the chain of command. Or working their way up something.

You could never be sure who had earnt their rank through genuine means and who just worked their way through the people they knew to get their ranking. The chief was certainly one of those who was in his place only because he was well acquainted with the powerful people in New Seoul.

So unsurprisingly, this break room looked nothing like the room that you and your fellow officers frequented when time allowed. Your room was filled with couches whose cushions had lost their softness long ago, the plastic creaking and breaking while chips and gashes abounded. And you didn’t even want to talk about the stains.

Understandable that they didn’t want Kim Seokjin interviewed there given his status, though why he was being interviewed anywhere outside of an actual interview room. Although even then, you realise why that’s the case. Those rooms are just cement squares with a metal table in the middle, not exactly the kind of place you interview such a high class witness.

“I think we should raid the vender, imagine what kinda high class shit they’ve got in here.” You whisper to him, smirking as you wiggle your eyebrows at him. Jimin gives a small life before nodding with a smile, turning to welcome the newcomer who has entered the room, waving off the officer who’d brought Kim Seokjin in.

“Hello, I’m Detective Park and this is Detective Y/L/N. Would you like something to drink? Or maybe something to eat before we get started? I would recommend something for you, you’re probably experiencing shock and we want to make you as comfortable as possible.” Jimin says, his voice incredibly diplomatic as he smiles a welcome to Kim Seokjin.

He sits at Jimin’s request, giving an awkward smile that doesn’t look remotely genuine. But the hollowness and shock behind his eyes tells you why and you feel sympathy bloom within you. There’s a brief moment of hesitation before Jimin’s words obviously filter through and he nods slowly.

“Yes, please, thank you. Just...a tea. Please. Hot.” Nodding yourself, you input the request into the machine before adding your own requests as well. Everything is produced onto a useful, clear plastic tray and you take it over before placing it on the low table with a gentle smile.

You’d got yourself a glass of water and Jimin his usual energy drink, the can’s design changing every few seconds to some new holo picture of some extreme sport. There’s also a simple glazed doughnut on a small plate, causing Seokjin to frown in confusion.

“The sugar will help with the shock. And it’ll help you to feel a little more stable.” Seokjin looks down at the baked good blankly before nodding, giving a small thanks before taking a bite. It’s not big, and he seems to chew almost mechanically.

“Please accept our apologies for what’s happened Mr Kim, we can’t even begin to understand what you’ve been through.” Jimin says, his voice low with compassion for the traumatised witness in front of him. Despite your partner's sarcasm, he’s always been good with the witnesses.

“Now, I don’t want this to sound callous but we’d like to get what you witnessed down on record as soon as possible, while it’s still...fresh.” You say gently, a compassionate smile painting itself on your face when you see the fresh pain in Seokjin’s eyes. He nods in acknowledgement and you press the band on your wrist, inputting a few details into the holoscreen before setting up the audio and visual recorder.

“This is Detective Y/L/N Y/N and Detective Park Jimin, Case 619-219-325. Interview with witness, Kim Seokjin. Mr Kim, for the purpose of the record, I will read you your rights, you are not under arrest or suspicion at this time.” You go on to read him his rights, the standard procedure for any interview nowadays and are relieved when he simply nods.

Some witnesses got angry, thinking they were a suspect suddenly, but it was standard operating protocol for the New Seoul Police Department. Jimin took over for you as soon as you’d finished.

“Can you please tell us what happened tonight? Start from a few hours beforehand if possible, lead us up to the moment when it happened. Try and remember as much as you can but don’t worry if you can’t.”

Seokjin nods slowly, taking a deep swallow of tea before letting out a breath and continuing.

“Namjoon had spent the day shadowing his dad and wanted to blow off some steam. He’s not normally the one to ask that so I suggested we…” He looks embarrassedly at you both. “I suggested that we go slumming. I’m sure you know what that means. We’ve done it before, frequently enough that we have favourite places. So we headed to a club a few blocks from our tower to start out, had a few drinks there with our mutual friend, Min Yoongi. Yoongi told us about this new casino that had opened in the city. It was...in one of the more shady areas of town, which always makes it a bit more fun. I know that sounds really bad but..”

“It’s fine, we’ve heard worse.” You comfort him, smiling gently. He looks awkward but carries on at your insistence.

“The casino was okay, we spent a few hours there. There was a cute guy that Namjoon had his eye on but it turned out that he was taken so both of us were out of luck. We lost more credits than I’d like to admit we lost. Turns out we’re not as good at gambling in those areas as the people who live there.” He gives a lopsided smile, filled with sadness.

Yeah, no shit, you think to yourself. That’s because the people that live there gamble for their lives, of course they’re better than a tower who’s just throwing money around. They probably took them for all their money, and then some.

“Anyway, after Namjoon got bored of losing we decided to leave. We were just going to head back home honestly. We’d both had a long day, pretty tiring. I just wanted to go to bed, I was meant to be travelling to New York tomorrow...today, for business. We...we couldn’t find an aircar that was free. In fact, there were barely any aircar’s around there at all, so we decided to walk for a bit to somewhere a little busier.”

A quick glance at Jimin has you realising that you’re both probably thinking the same thing. That it’s a goddamn miracle both of them weren’t killed just for being on the streets. You simply didn’t walk around those areas at that time of night.

“We checked the map of where the nearest transit station was, thinking that might have a free aircar or something. Or we could even use the transit and that’s why we went down the alley. We were halfway down, laughing about Namjoon losing this game earlier on and then suddenly...there was this guy standing there in front of us. He didn’t say anything, and...I couldn’t see him properly. The light...I’m sorry.” He breaks off, pressing his thumbs into his eyes as he bows his head. Neither Jimin nor you say anything for a moment, letting him compose himself again before he speaks.

His eyes are a little more watery now, his voice tighter and husky.

“He err...all I could really see was that he had this...spiked black mask on. Like a ventilator that people like to wear, but with these silver spikes on it. Err...I think his hair was black? He had no colour in it. In fact...his whole outfit was just...black leather. Nothing holo, nothing fancy. He didn’t stand out at all. He just...was standing there, which was weird as there hadn’t been anyone in the alley. We wouldn’t have gone in otherwise.” Seokjin stops once more, looking down at his half finished tea.

“This guy...just...stood there for a minute. Namjoon was slightly in front of me and well...we didn’t know what we were meant to do. We’ve never been mugged before. But then he just...lifted his hand and pointed at Namjoon. Pointed at him? But then there was this...popping noise and this purple flash. Then Namjoon was on the ground, the guy gone. And...I just...I freaked out. I called the cops and...yeah. I don’t understand. He didn’t even say anything? He didn’t even look at me?” His voice is broken as he whispers, the tears slowly falling to trail down his face.

He looked tired and worn out, the dark circles beneath his eyes even more prominent than when he’d begun talking and his soft brown eyes were now dark with unhidden pain. Perfectly dyed, platinum blonde hair was mussed on top of his head, becoming more so when he runs his fingers through it once more before gripping the strands in frustration.

Kim Seokjin is an attractive man, a clear product of centuries of careful breeding by his ancestors. Pink lips are plump and lush, his skin perfectly clear and untouched by augmentations or tattoos. Broad shoulders hold his elegant jacket perfectly and you don’t need to be rich to know that his clothes, the same material that Namjoon’s had been, were perfectly tailored. 

But despite how beautiful he was, despite the money he came from and the money he would go on to make, he still looked like every other human being when someone they treasured was taken from them in such a violent manner. He looked like part of him had broken earlier this evening.

“We’re very sorry for your loss Mr Kim. And that you had to witness it. Is there...anything else you might remember? Anything that sticks out about him?” Seokjin considers it slowly, obviously turning the questions over in his mind as he goes through the memory once more. You hate to make him think about it again, but you never know what he might know.

Finally though, he shakes his head with a deep sigh. “No...I’m sorry. That alley smelled so bad and it was so dark. There was...nothing.”

“That’s understandable. It was hard to see even when we were there and in the spur of the moment, with the shock of it all. Don’t be too hard on yourself Mr Kim, it wasn’t your fault. That’s what you need to remember. It might sound a little harsh but...there was probably nothing that you could do to prevent it. This man...I don’t think there’s anything you could have done.” Jimin looks at you as you place your hand on Seokjin’s squeezing gently in reassurance.

You can tell that your theory of this being a hit is becoming even more solid, and you silently query Jimin as to what you think you should do next. His face twists slightly before giving a slight nod and carrying on.

“I think that might be enough for what happened. If you remember anything in the future, please tell us. You might find that you’ll remember something important at a later date, when you mind is better able to comprehend what happened. Don’t worry if you can’t remember now. If it’s okay though, we’d like to ask you some questions about Namjoon himself?” Jimin taps at his own band, his own holo screen the standard blue neon as he runs through police files to bring up Namjoon’s profile.

All citizens of New Seoul had some kind of profile on the police network, though most people would find it to just be publicly available information. Namjoon, as the son of the mayor, had more than a little information available.

“Yes, yes of course.” Seokjin takes another bite of the doughnut, chewing just as slowly and mechanically. You get the sense he’s not even tasting it properly and you sigh softly, leaning over to Jimin and whispering into his ear.

“I think we need to try and speed this up a little. He looks like he’s going to fall face first into the table. Let’s get a little information and then we can wrap it up and he can go home. If we need more info then we’ll contact him later. It sounds like a bust in terms of the scene anyway.” The words are featherlight, your voice barely audible even to him but he hears you anyway thankfully.

A slight nod is all he gives in response before he looks back at Seokjin, giving him a small smile.

“You first met Namjoon in high school, correct?” Immediately Seokjin is shaking his head, disputing what Jimin is saying.

“No, no we’ve known each other since kindergarten. Our families have known each other a long time. Namjoon was sent abroad to school for a few years and then came back for high school. We both went to King Sejong Private Academy before going to Seoul National University after that. He took a degree in politics with a minor in international relations, I did business management and international relations. He went to Harvard for his post-grad, I went to Oxford. But then we met up again when we were both back here in New Seoul. We’ve been living here for the last five years now since being back.” Jimin nods, updating his information in his file quietly.

“Apologies, our information isn’t usually that thorough. So...you’ve known Namjoon for a while then. Did he ever have anyone who might want to try and hurt him? Anyone who was outwardly aggressive with him?” They were standard questions and Seokjin’s brow furrows as he considers, lips pursing before he shrugs.

“I mean...he’s the mayor’s son? He has the same enemies his dad does. Well, enemies is a harsh word. Political opponents is the polite term in our society. But...they’re not dangerous. At least, not to Namjoon? They might try and assassinate his dad but there’s no need to hurt Namjoon. Although…” He trails off, thoughtful suddenly. “His dad was preparing him for the next mayoral election. Presenting him as his successor. There’s a lot of people who don’t like his dad, and Namjoon...didn’t have the greatest opinion of the augmented. That might not have gelled well with a lot of people?” 

“What do you mean? What were his opinions about the augmented?” You ask, interrupting him. You’re leaning over to look at Jimin’s notes now, running through them to see if there were any notes about this. “I can see that his post-grad dissertation was on the downfall of humanity with the rise of augmentations?”

“Yeah. His dad has a low opinion of augmentations. Thinks they’re ruining humanity, letting the...lower classes get above their station. And there’s a lot of people who think the more augmentations you have then the less of your soul you have. His dad wasn’t that intense about it but...Namjoon started to get that way. His mom was in the Dongdaemun Attack.” Internally you wince. The Dongdaemun Attack had been the New Seoul government had been looking to regulate augmentations twenty years ago. A group of cybernetically augmented anarchists used it as an excuse to get attention to their cause, murdering over five-hundred people.

Namjoon would have only been nine-years-old, an easily influenced age.

“I don’t know why he got so fixated on it recently, we tried to discourage him. I’m not a fan of too much but I think augmentations are people’s own choice you know? Do you think...maybe that was the reason?” Biting your lip, you look at Jimin to see him looking at you with a droll stare.

It was obvious he thought the same as you. That it was highly unlikely that this was motivated by terrorism or anything like that. After all, the killer hadn’t said anything to him. Hadn’t tried to argue his point, hadn’t released anything since or claimed the incident. And there were plenty of people with much worse opinions than Namjoon.

“How deep were these opinions of his? Did he think that maybe augmentations should be banned completely? That people with augmentations are a lower class or anything? Subhuman?” Some people thought like that. It would be hard to see New Seoul electing a mayor with those kinds of views though.

Seokjin shook his head. “No. He just...he didn’t like augmentation. Never got any himself, tried to encourage us to not get any. It was more...I think it was more his spiritual beliefs. Like he was afraid that if humanity keeps going this way then...we’ll get lost or something? I don’t really know. But he wouldn’t ever impose them on others. Namjoon wasn’t like that. Despite what he thought, he believed in freedom of thought too. And freedom of expression.”

“Hmm, okay. It’s a start though. We’ll look into it. Has Namjoon received any...threats that you’re aware of?” Again, he shakes his head in response before twisting his lips.

“No. But I don’t know if he’d tell me that. You might be better looking through his computer at home. There might be something in there, whether he’s deleted it or not. I don’t know. But he’s not been acting afraid or anything so I don’t think so? I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you.” Jimin presses something on his screen before it vanishes, giving Seokjin a smile equally as tired.

“That’s fine, you’ve had...a very rough night. That’s all for the moment. If we have any further questions then we’ll contact you. I think it’s best that you probably go home and rest now.” Seokjin nods jerkily, not moving for a second before taking a final drink of his tea and standing.

“Thank you. For...investigating this. I...I hope you find it. Namjoon...Namjoon was a good man. A really good man. He didn’t deserve this.” He leaves the room surprisingly quickly given how tall and broad he is, his long legs taking him through the break room with ease until he reaches the door.

Once he’s gone, you finish the recording and end it before turning to look at Jimin with raised brows. “So...sounding more like a hit.”

“Yeah, but why? Because he doesn’t like augmentations? That’s not exactly a unique view today. In fact, he’s probably more in the majority now than the minority. Plus, there’s no flag in his file to indicate anything worrisome regarding extreme views, or even that he’s being targeted for those views. I think for the moment, it’s probably more likely to do with his dad.” Jimin leans back with a heavy sigh, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he slouches.

He looks tired, and that reminds you of how tired you are as well. Yawning, you cover your mouth with your hand before letting out your own sigh. Suddenly, your eyes feel heavy with a need to sleep. Understandable, given you haven't slept all day yet.

“Guessing you weren’t asleep when the call came in.” Jimin says suddenly, and when you look at him, you realise that he’s looking directly at you. There’s concern in his face as he scans over you and you give him a lethargic smile, shrugging slowly. Despite his sarcastic nature, you knew that Jimin did care for you and he maintained the same level of concern and protectiveness that you had for him in turn.

That’s what partners did.

“Was finishing up that paperwork from the Kang case.” Lips twisting, Jimin nodded slowly before groaning as he stretched. There were a few pops and cracks from his joints and in the silence of the break room, you can hear the subtle whirring of the machinery in his arm. The arm was covered in synthetic skin, specially designed to mimic his normal skin. He hadn’t wanted the hassle of it, but he hadn’t been awake when they’d fitted his arm properly.

“You know...they make this job look far more glamorous on shows.” He mutters, standing up and finishing off his own energy drink. You wonder if that was really a good idea for him now, given he should probably head back home and go to sleep. Or rather...go back to sleep.

Smirking at him, you stand as well, taking his can and your cup to the recycler before throwing it in. “What? You mean...you don’t think the mountains of paperwork you have to do isn’t glamorous? Just not trying hard enough.”

Leading him out of the senior break room, you feel Jimin poke your waist hard before letting out a snort. “What am I supposed to do? Extravagantly type while fending off a criminal who’s hellbent on destroying the station? Have flirtatious conversations with my file assistant while updating my expenses form?”

“I hope you’re not having flirtatious conversations with your file assistant. Didn’t you choose the cartoon German Shepherd?” He laughs loudly, your boots echoing on the loud halls. You’d expect that at five in the morning, it would be only a skeleton crew on. But this was the police department for New Seoul, one of the biggest cities on the planet.

Night just meant more crime.

“Well, it’d live up to the stereotypes of dashing male detectives who are perpetually horny, right?” Wrinkling your nose, you look at him in disgust.

“Ew.”

“Anyway, you should get home. Get some sleep otherwise you’re going to be the walking dead. And I have more than a little feeling that this is going to be a big case for us. A case that is probably going to have us being hounded by the uppers until we solve this.” Letting out a groan of your own, you pause and twist your lips before running your hands over your eyes.

“Fucking hell. Sorry, I’m the one that picked up the call. And I can’t go home. It’s five, our shift starts at nine and it takes forty-five minutes just for me to get home. I’ll just nap in the bunk room for a few hours.” 

He doesn’t respond for a few more minutes, the silence between you two comfortable from the years of working together. Jimin doesn’t try to argue with you, instead following you to the room lined with bunk beds that could be used by officers and detectives for a quick nap. Most of the time, that meant anyone who’d been working an extra long shift and needed to energise themselves.

But for now, it would allow you to get a few hours sleep before your shift actually started. Because once it did, the real investigative work would begin and you’d both be knee deep in the politics of it all.

Picking a bunk furthest from the door, which hopefully would mean it was furthest from any unfortunate noise, you sit heavily on the bottom bunk with a sigh. Staring down at your knees, you chewed your lip as your mind whirred despite your tiredness. Already you were coming up with theories as to what had happened.

You don’t realise that your eyes have been drifting shut as the adrenaline from the night leaves your body and the comfort of the bed you sit on calls to you strongly. Not until you feel a tugging at your feet, startling you awake once more. 

Looking down with wide eyes, you see it’s your partner, knelt before you as he carefully unlaces your boots. You’re thankful that one of the inventions over the last few centuries had been odourless shoes, because you can’t think of what it would smell like given how many hours you’ve worn these particular boots for. 

Jimin carefully takes them off, leaving you in only your socks before looking up at you with a gentle smile. Without a word, you take off your coat and hand it to him, letting him place it on the hook next to the wall while your boots go in the small cube holder. He takes off his own boots quickly, repeating the movements that you had before sitting on the bed opposite you.

There’s little space between the bunks, quantity more than quality, and his knees press against your own. Looking down, you marvel at how big he is compared to you. You’re not even a small person really, but he just looks...so much more. Part of you knows that you’re just being slightly delirious from the sleep deprivation, having been awake for over 24 hours now. But part of you knows it’s just something you’ve admired about him for a long time.

“Come on supercop, go to sleep.” Jimin says, his voice husky yet soft. You note the folded blanket and fresh pillow he must have grabbed from the supply closet and carefully place the pillow down before curling up beneath the blanket. It feels absurdly warm and comfortable, which is how you know you’re tired because it’s well known the bunk room is basically a cold coffin.

A few familiar beeps cause you to blink blearily at him, noting that he was setting an alarm on his band before he too curls up on his bunk, a deep sigh leaving him as his body relaxes. All you can see right now is the vivid magenta of his cybernetic eye, his dark hair falling into his face prettily while the tips glow yellow.

You’d figure out who killed Kim Namjoon, and you’d do it with the help of Park Jimin, the best detective you’d ever known.

-

The next three days are spent interviewing the friends and family of Kim Namjoon. Jimin and you were waiting on the report from Jungkook about the crime scene and the autopsy report from the pathologist, though you both knew that the reports weren’t going to give you any more information than you already had. 

Jungkook had been pretty clear that there wasn’t likely to be much more evidence he could give you, and from all accounts it had been a clean kill from an efficient suspect. On top of all that, you were left with the frustrating knowledge that Kim Namjoon, while having some views that could have future potential for conflict, was by all accounts a nice guy with no personal enemies of his own.

The interview with his father had been particularly awkward, given his grief at the loss of his son that had combined with his belligerence at the idea of having any enemies that could have done this. Apparently it didn’t particularly enter the head of Kim Minhyuk that he wasn’t entirely a popular mayor, but then again, those in power didn’t tend to listen to critics.

Which left you in an awkward spot with the case. Neither of you had found anything even remotely like a breakthrough, and while it was only three days into a case that by all accounts, should probably take a good few months to work through, you knew that you were being carefully monitored by the people higher up the chain.

Rubbing your forehead, you let out a deep groan as you flop back on your couch and rub at your eyes. Despite the lack of progress on the case, you still had other cases to work on while also engaging in background research of Namjoon and everyone who knew him, alongside filling out all the necessary paperwork.

You were beyond thankful that the auto-transcript was a thing, though you’d still had to read through them while listening to the audio version to make sure it had all worked properly. It was infamous for throwing random words in occasionally, which certainly wasn’t acceptable when handing in evidence to a court.

As such, you’d spend the last six hours sitting on your couch like a potato as you’d listened to the interviews and read along with the transcripts. Taking off the headphones, you let your head fall back on the couch as you look over at Jimin where he sat on the other end of the couch, his own body slumped into the comfy cushions.

“Transcripts are all okay, I’ll log them all into the case file now.” You tell him, fingers darting over the holoboard over your lap as you carefully save each file into the designated case file on the police secure server. A backup file is generated instantly in both yours and Jimin’s own computer systems while a third is saved to the police backup.

“All okay?” He asks, his voice rough from disuse. Given that you’d agreed to spend the day working through the transcripts, which was a job that neither of you particularly liked doing, he’d agreed to work on the case notes of the Park Junhee case that had been opened three months ago. The pathology report had finally come in for her and Jimin had been adding the information into the case file.

“Yeah. I didn’t get any new ideas or anything listening through again,” Making a very childish whining sound, you relax against the couch with a deep and heavy sigh. “We really have nothing right now.”

“We’ll get something. We always do. There’s no such thing as the perfect murder, you know that.” Giving him a droll look, you snort loudly before rolling your eyes.

“No, there’s no such thing as a perfect murder. But there is such a thing as overworked police detectives who can’t find any clues and therefore end up closing the case because they can’t find anything to move it forward.” Jimin smirks in amusement before nodding, his face looking sallow in the blue light of his holoscreen.

“True. I’ve finished up this so I think it’s time we both put the work down and just...relaxed,” He turned his holoscreen off finally, letting his own head lay back on the couch as he closed his eyes. “Christ, this was meant to be our day off. And I’ve spent the whole day sitting on your damn couch filling in reports.”

“Sorry, you didn’t have to come here.” You say, standing up and stretching with a grunt. As you lean your head back, rolling it on your shoulders and enjoying the way your neck cracks satisfyingly, you don’t see the way Jimin scans along your body with a darker eye than usual. 

“Yeah well, it was better than sitting in my own apartment. My neighbours are pissing me off and I’m tempted to ask someone in the department to make a house call on them. God, they won’t stop partying and fucking. Your place is much quieter.” He stretches out too, the familiar popping of his joints even louder than your own and you laugh loudly.

“That’s just because I’m not a cheapskate like you and paid for the soundproofing.” You muse, grinning at him as you walk past to the small fridge installed into one of the kitchen cupboards. A lack of space was something that you had to get used to in New Seoul, which had made it all the more disheartening to interview Namjoon’s friends and families in their beautiful, expensive apartments high above the clouds.

Your window looked out onto one of the many small streets of Hongdae, the university still present just down the road. As a result, you got the lovely view of a smorgasbord of shop signs, advertisements and messages in a headache inducing rainbow of neon colours. Needless to say, you’d invested in blackout blinds to keep the sight away.

“True. I’m reaping what I sowed. And for a little extra cash I can’t even spend anyway as I’m too busy working.” He mutters, making you chuckle as you hand him a new bottle of his favourite beer. Looking down at it with pursed lips, Jimin mutters a thanks for glancing over at your own bottle of alcoholic cider.

You weren’t a big beer drinker, but you did love drinking cider. Particularly flavoured cider, and the drink in your hand was strawberry and apple flavoured. A favourite of yours from a small microbrewery out in what remains of the countryside down near Gwangju.

Crashing back on the couch, you take a deep drink and hum in happiness as the delicious flavours settle over your tongue. This brand is more expensive than others because it uses natural flavourings. Which meant it was made from real apples and not fakes. You felt it was always worth the price.

“Can I try that?” Jimin asks suddenly, causing your brows to rise in surprise. He wasn’t really the kind to drink fruity drinks, though he wouldn’t say no if given one. Brow rising, you smirk before handing him the glass.

Only he doesn’t take it from your hand, instead, he leans forward until his lips wrap around the end of the brown glass bottle, his eyes focused firmly on yours. You feel a hot flush run through your body at the sight of those luscious, pink plump lips almost seductive as the fingers of his artificial hand, the skin soft but the strength behind them evident, gently press against your own, tilting the bottle up.

His throat swallows slowly, long gulp that cause the muscles to contract and expand in a way that has your breath stuttering. The sudden sexual tension between you two is almost physical and you’re half convinced that if you reached out then you could touch it. But then he pulls away from the bottle, wet tongue licking along his lips slowly as he contemplates the flavour.

“Hmm...tastes good.” Smirking, he leans back and takes a drink of his own beer. He doesn’t stop staring at you though, and you’re left holding the bottle at a funny angle as you stare at him dumbfoundedly.

Then your eyes narrow while your lips purse, contemplating him. Jimin was a bold man, and you knew that he went for whatever he wanted. He was well aware of your attraction towards him, and you were pretty sure he wouldn’t say no if you asked him for anything sexual.

The stress of everything that has been happening pushes you on before you can second guess your actions, and you decide right then and there that you’re going to have your partner tonight. Right here, on the couch. You were going to seduce him, and then fuck him until he was crying out your name.

Make good use of the soundproofing you’d invested in.

Keeping firm eye contact with him, you bring your bottle to your mouth, carefully taking a sip before letting your tongue catch the remnants you let trickle down the edge. Jimin’s eyes immediately follow the movement and you internally cheer, knowing right then and there that he was going to be receptive.

Carefully placing the bottle down on the low table in front of you, you reach for Jimin’s and do the same with his. There’s a brief pause before you shift quickly, swinging one leg over his until you’re sitting on his lap. Almost immediately his hands move to rest on your waist, the warmth from his left hand a burning heat on you.

“Mr Park, I have a proposal for you,” You state cheerily, giving him a smile as you run one finger down the tattoos on his face. He raises his dark brows in question, the corner of his lips turning up in amusement. “I find you sexually attractive and I’m pretty certain you find me equally as attractive. I propose...that we fuck and get out all that tension.”

“Hmm, bold assumption there. But I agree. Sounds like the perfect stress reliever.” His voice is almost whimsical and you shudder as he drags his fingertips up, beneath your top. Grinning as he pushes it higher, you lean forward until the tip of your nose is pressing against his.

“Good. And the department does say that partners should always strive to work on their cooperation.” You murmur, lightly pressing your lips to his in a ghost of a kiss. Just enough that you can still feel the sensation of his skin on yours but so light that you feel the desperation for more.

“That is true. And I feel this would go a long way to improving our morale and communication skills.” Jimin goes along with you, his teeth bright in the instant he flashes a grin at you before he tugs your shirt over your shirt, leaving you in just your bra and leggings. His eyes flick down to the breasts, the bra a simple and plain white that wasn’t anything fancy.

You’d think that you’d spent thousands on it though, with the way the iris of his natural eye expands rapidly and his artificial eye darkens to a smooth magenta. It was odd how his cyber-eye worked to mimic human reactions, particularly given it wasn’t even remotely human looking. But still, you enjoyed the visible signs of his arousal.

And that was to say nothing of the semi-hard erection you could feel pressing against your core, causing your inner muscles to quiver in anticipation as a wave of your own arousal likely dampened your underwear. You decide then and there that you’ve had enough of bantering with him, and instead wrap your arms tightly around his neck as you bring your lips together, the pressure hard enough to make your teeth clash momentarily.

Running your fingers through his hair, you marvel at how silky smooth the strands are. Even the ends, with their cybernetic pigment, feel completely natural. Right now, they’re a vibrant orange that almost reminds you of the old tigers that used to roam the planet.

His hands stroke along your bare skin, the sensation overwhelming to your touch starved body and you moan deeply into his mouth, grinding your hips forward in an effort to bring some relief to the desperate need in your body. It had been a long time since you’d been sexually active with anyone.

Like Jimin said, your job was simply too busy to allow for personal interactions. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d spent time with your best friends. And even they worked in the police department as well, one as a narcotics detective and the other as a crime scene analyst. 

There just wasn't enough time in the day.

But Jimin and you had the same schedule. Which meant the possibilities were endless, and given his natural attractiveness that had served you well for more than one fantasy over the years, you knew that this would be the perfect way to relieve your stress while hopefully getting a good orgasm out of it all.

And maybe just some intimate time with another person and not just your hand.

Sighing into his mouth, you tighten your grip on his hair and tug lightly, resulting in an odd mix of a moan that ends in a growl. Jimin pulls away from your lips before beginning to trail his own down your jaw, the metal ball of his piercing oddly cold against the heat of his skin wherever it brushes against you.

His hands jerk suddenly and your bra falls down your arms, causing you to let go of him to throw it off. Shifting back slightly, you let him take in the sight of you half naked, enjoying the way he licks his mouth as if you are a meal he’s going to devour. Because you do want that.

Sure enough, he dips his head down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, the heat of his tongue against the hard bud almost painful as he laps at it teasingly. A glance up at you through hooded eyes has you whimpering, your hands tugging his hair once more and he grins before ever so gently grazing his teeth over the sensitive flesh. Almost immediately, goosebumps rise on your skin at the sensation while you shiver in place.

Jimin lets out a low laugh, the sound vibrating through his mouth as he sucks hard, his augmented hand playing with the neglected nipple with clever fingers that roll and pinch with just enough pressure. You can’t help the way you push your chest towards him, enjoying the way he plays with your body for a few minutes while his free hand gently squeezes at your ass in an almost rhythmic fashion, encouraging you to rock your hips against him in a way that has his erection rubbing against your clit delightfully.

“Princess, I’d really like it if you would suck my cock. It’s been a fantasy of mine for a while now.” Princess. That’s a new one. But you weirdly like it, a smile gracing your lips as you try to hold your laughter in and look down at Jimin. He’d worded it as a request, but his tone made it a command.

And the way your body shuddered in anticipation at the cool look in his eyes tells you that you like that. You’re not surprised. Of course Jimin would take a more dominant tone in the bedroom. The man’s never met someone he hasn’t wanted to challenge, and while in the workplace you would be more than willing to bite back at him, you were happy to give in here.

When working, you were partners. Equals. You respected him and he respected you. But here? Sexually? You trusted him with your life in situations that could result in your death, your trust with him sexually was far more easier to give.

So you stand, watching carefully as you bite your lip and slowly slide your leggings and underwear off in one go, the material clinging to the wetness from your pussy. You know Jimin sees the damp spot, they’re a pale blue so it’d be hard not to notice the sudden navy in the centre, but he says nothing.

Simply smirks at you as he takes you in, eyes roaming your body greedily as he chews on his own lip. Leaning forward, you let him cup your breasts reverently before you capture his lips with your own, the movement oddly sensual given how naked you are and the coolness against your pussy is even more enticing. 

Playing with his tongue as he teases you, you pull away from him slowly, his lips outrageously swollen and glistening from the messy kiss. But you say nothing more, simply sinking to your knees before him and being thankful you’d had the sense of mind to have an exquisite fluffy rug put in.

The quick inhale Jimin makes as you reach forward and press your hand to the bulge in his pants has you smiling, letting you know that he’s probably just as excited and turned on for this as you are. Pressing your finger against the buckle, you watch as it immediately retracts and you’re free to reach what you really want.

Slipping your hand into his pants, you dip beneath his underwear and grasp the thick, warm shaft of his cock tightly. His head falls back on the couch, a soft sigh of relief as you squeeze him tightly, the coarse hairs at the base of him tickling your hand slightly. Maneuvering slightly, you finally get your first glimpse of him as you pull him from the depths of his pants and you squeeze your thighs tight.

Jimin isn’t long, but the girth of him is more than enough to make you know that he’s going to stretch you in all the right ways. The slight bend in his shaft has the tip of him reaching upwards, letting you see the bulbous head and the slit in the centre, the colour of him already darkening from his arousal.

Licking your lips, you experimentally stroke him in one, long movement that has him letting out a stuttering breath. Smirking, you lean forward and flick your tongue over the tip of him, tasting the clear precum that was beginning to leak from him in a dainty and playful kitten lick. A soft growl from him lets you know he wants more and you comply willingly, wrapping your lips around the tip of him in much the same manner he’d drunk from your bottle.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself sink down his cock, the thickness of him stretching your jaw a little wider than you would have liked but you try to take as much as you can. His hips jerk upwards at the sensation and he lets out a moan, causing you to press your tongue as flat as you can to the back of his cock. The thick vein beneath your touch twitches and you hum, letting him feel the extra sensation as the vibrations fill your mouth.

His reaction is instantaneous, another quick jolt of his hips while his cock convulses once more. Pulling upwards, you hollow out your cheeks to increase the amount of pressure he’s feeling while your hand moves to grasp the base of him once more, beginning to work in conjunction with your mouth as you repeat your movements over and over. The noises he makes increase even more when you reach into his underwear with your free hand and begin to gently play with his balls, figuring out what makes him tick and moan the most.

You’re not even sure how long you’re down there for, all you know is that Jimin seems to be enjoying every second of it from the way his hand on your head keeps pushing at you, his pleasure so much that he doesn’t quite realise what he’s doing. There’s no complaint from you though, not when you’re enjoying it just as much as he is. Your partner tastes far better than you’d expected and he feels so good in your mouth that your pussy is almost screaming in demand to feel him too.

Whether it’s because you’ve both never slept with each other before or just because Jimin’s not an overly talkative person during sex, he doesn’t say a whole lot. Which you’re half sad about, because you’re sure he’d be good at dirty talk, but you’re also relieved because you’re not normally a fan of said dirty talk.

Maybe not yet anyway.

Despite that though, the sounds he makes are so erotic that you can’t find it in yourself to care that he’s not vocalising his pleasure in words. His body is doing that for him, and you continue to lap, lick, suck and stroke at his cock as if it was your favourite thing in the world. But you were also starting to feel a little neglected, your pussy soaked with your excitement and aching from emptiness.

Pulling off him, you look up at Jimin as you take deep breaths to regulate your breathing once more while your hand continues to jerk him off. Looking up at him, you lick at your lips hungrily and almost whine at the dark look Jimin gives you.

“Please fuck me now.” You beg softly, the need between your legs so strong that you’re not even bothered about what you sound like. Jimin had already established earlier that he would be in command, but you knew him well enough to know that he liked his boundaries being pushed too. So your request is a plea, the words tinged with a whimper while you try your hardest to make your eyes look beguiling to him.

Hissing as you squeeze his cock, he bites on his tongue slightly as he bares his teeth, a furrow forming between his brow as he wrinkles his nose before he nods. His skin looks flushed, the pink enticing against the natural golden tan of his complexion and you grin in excitement.

Letting go of him, he stands and quickly pulls off his black shirt, revealing the jaw droppingly toned torso that had you feeling hot inside many a times at the station. You’d seen this much of him before, and the tattoos that crept down his real arm in yet more geometric circles and thick lines, some of them stretched down his chest and back, are even more enticing now that you can press your lips to them.

Which you do, obviously. Mouthing hot kisses of need against the black lines on his chest as he manages to shift around you, kicking off his pants and underwear to leave him naked before you. The tip of his cock presses against your abdomen, the rigid member hot against you and you gasp in delight, pushing up to bite gently at Jimin’s jawline.

A low growl leaves him before he has one arm around your waist, pressing you to him tightly until his cock is firmly wedged between both your stomachs while his other hand forces your neck up until his lips are against yours in a forceful kiss. You give in to him happily, the trust you’ve built with him for years letting you know you’re okay.

Moaning as he presses against the small of your back, making your hips grind against him while he does the same, you know that he’s using your body to jerk off. And it’s more than exciting, it’s infuriating because your poor clit is beginning to feel very ignored. 

Between kisses, you manage to gasp out your request to him.

“Please, Jimin. Please.” The low rumble of his laugh lets you know he’s teasing you, playing with your desire for him and stringing you along on a dance of arousal. If you’d been in a normal situation, you would have snapped at him to hurry up. But you weren’t in a normal situation right now.

Still though, he’s not cruel. And so when he pulls you down to the couch, you let out a deep sigh of relief at the knowledge that cock was going to be firmly inside you within minutes. The knowledge that he was going to be bare, taking you raw and hopefully filling you with his thick cum made you clench, even more wetness forming at the prospect.

You both were under the police health care, which meant you were both inoculated against all known diseases and viruses. That included sexual ones, and you both had birth control implants. You knew, because you both get them at the same time. Which had been only two months ago.

So you were free to have the messiest sex possible with him. And the idea was more than a little enticing.

He doesn’t move on top of you though like you expect, nor does he pull you on top of him. Instead, he lays so his back rests against the couch, his torso lifted by one arm before he pulls you in front of him, letting you lay with your back to his chest. The knowledge he was going to take you from behind, which was one of your favourite positions and the quickest way to bring you pleasure and an orgasm, was even more exciting and you couldn’t stop the whimper that left you.

Jimin laughed softly, his augmented arm lifting your leg up before running his hand along your inner thigh. The skin there is so sensitive, so vulnerable and you shudder at his touch before he slides his hand further down, meeting the wetness there. A sigh from him has you trying to look at him and he catches your lips quickly, the kiss deep but fleeting.

“I’d love to feel you with my real hand but, this is my dominant hand. You’ll appreciate it more, I’m sure.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jawline before you feel his fingers slide through the slickness of your entrance. His augmented hand has always been cooler than his real arm, and you feel that coolness now against the incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves at the centre of your legs.

The flesh there is hot to the touch and swollen with need, the bud of your clit so prominent that Jimin finds it with minimal effort. His quiet laugh at the way your body jerks at the touch has you gripping his arm, trying to get him to add more pressure. But his arm is far stronger than you, and it doesn’t even move when you try.

All thought vanishes your head though when you feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, the tip pushing through your folds with ease and coating itself in the wetness that has accumulated. You don’t even realise that you’re murmuring requests and needy pleas to him, desperate for that blunt head to spear you until Jimin murmurs that you’ll be okay.

And then he’s pushing his cock inside you, the thick intrusion penetrating you at an agonisingly slow pace. But you relish the stretch he causes in you, the almost relief your body experiences as he slides deeper into you before finally he’s bottoming out, balls pressing against your pussy while his hips push your ass. A deep groan leaves him when you tighten on him experimentally, a mirrored groan escaping your mouth as you let your head fall onto the cushion.

“Oh fuck, Jimin.” You whisper, throat tight and voice husky with pleasure. Pushing your head back into Jimin’s shoulder, you tilt it to try and see what his expression looks like right now. But you’re distracted immediately by the way he pulls out slowly, the movement causing his cock to drag against all the right nerves in your pussy and you let out a breathy moan.

“I’d like to say I’d take this slow, but I honestly just want to fuck you hard and fast.” Jimin whispers into your ear, his breath hot against you and a garbled response leaves you as he thrust into you at the same time, the movement harder this time. Body rocking forward, you can’t find it in yourself to complain at his words and instead push your hips against him, encouraging him more.

He takes your body movements as permission and hooks his arm around your thigh, pulling higher and stretching you open for him. The depth he’s hitting is so pleasurable, so good that you’re just left making incomprehensible noises as the lewd sound of his cock sliding in and out of your obscenely wet pussy takes over. The only other thing you can hear is your stuttered breathing, hints of moans lacing each one with more than a few cut off from how hard he slams into you.

Eyes closing, you whine and pant with desperation, wiggling your hips against him as the pleasure overwhelms your senses completely. The years waiting to have sex again were definitely worth it if this was your reward for all that celibacy.

And then you feel his fingertips against your clit once more, the cool digits feeling so lifelike against you. Moaning loudly, you’re not entirely sure if you’re moaning his name or something else but you reach down to his hand, guiding his fingers into the rhythm that pleases you most until he’s able to do it on his own.

The tight ball of feeling in your stomach grows more and more, the combination of Jimin’s fingers on your clit as he rubs in the quick, constant movement you’d shown him in combination with the quick thrusts of his hips overloading your pussy with pleasure. It sparks and pops in your veins, causing your body to twitch against him as your hips begin to gyrate, almost as if they’re not sure whether to encourage him on or push him away.

But the insistent press of his cock against all the spots inside of you that cause the needy noises to escape your throat without your knowledge and his clever fingers on your clit combine in what is possibly the quickest orgasm you’ve ever had in sex before. Muscles tightening, you let out ragged moans, your breath catching and almost choking you as you pant and mewl in his arms.

Throughout it all, Jimin keeps moving. His hips slap against your ass repeatedly in quick thrusts that have you whining in overstimulation, your convulsing inner muscles squeezing tight on his cock repeatedly and causing him to grunt at the added pressure and friction. It’s not long before you’re pushing his hand away, unwilling to accept the added stimulation that was now bordering on pain and instead you let out gasping breaths, the occasional moan slipping from you, as Jimin now focuses on his own high.

His speed increases inside you, thick cock moving in and out of your pussy almost like a damn machine and you’re a little shocked to release there’s even tears falling down your face from the sheer power of the orgasm he’d given you. You’re not upset or anything, it just seemed to be a natural reaction.

“Ah fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jimin grunts, one of the few things he’s said the whole time before his thrusts begin to lose their fluidity, the movements jerky before he finally orgasms. You’re almost surprised by the way you can actually feel his cock twitch inside you as he cums, filling you with ropes of white cum. It’s an erotic image that actually has you shivering with surprising arousal, despite how tired you feel throughout it all.

And then Jimin is still against you, his chest breathing just as hard as your own as he lets go of your leg. You’re so exhausted from it all, which is ridiculous considering he did all the work, that you let it hit the couch with a thud, causing Jimin to laugh. Sure enough, you soon see his face where he pushes himself up to look over at you, a bright grin painted on while his cheeks are flushed and he has a delightful sheen of sweat all over.

He looks hot, and beautiful.

“Tired?” Jimin asks, playfulness in his voice despite what you’d just done. A small ball of anxiety you’d had in your stomach that maybe he’d treat you differently after relaxed. Of course he wouldn’t treat you any differently. He was Jimin, and you were both adults capable of separating work from play.

Despite that, you realised that he’s still fully inside you. You don’t say anything though, finding it surprisingly nice to just cock warm him for a while. So you’ll let him stay like that for as long as he wants. Smirking up at him, you blink slowly.

“Well, it’s very tiring being this good. I mean, I made you cum in less than what? Three minutes?” You state, putting on a thinking face that has Jimin snorting and rolling his eyes. But he doesn’t contradict you, instead shrugging casually.

“You’re right. That was quick. Good, but quick. I’ll have to do better next time. Are you okay?” He asks, scanning down your body to check you over. Humming, you stretch as much as you can without causing him to slip out of you before nodding and grinning.

“Yep, I’m good. That was a fucking good orgasm Park, holy shit.” The aura of pride mixes with smugness on him and you can’t help but chuckle at the sight, causing you to roll your own eyes at him. “Don’t get too cocky.”

“I still have my cock in you, so I’ll be as cocky as I want,” He muses. “We should order food. I’m fucking hungry. Are you?” 

When you nod, he finally slips from you and manages to climb over you awkwardly. You take in the sight of his toned body before focusing on his now semi-hard cock, slick with your own wetness and with a streak or two of his own cum. The feeling of said cum leaking from you is particularly nice, but you don’t say anything. In fact, you should probably go to the bathroom.

He’s halfway between getting dressed again, his underwear and pants on before he crouches in front of you. “Hey, this changes nothing between us, okay? We’re still partners. And friends. I’d be something more with you if it wasn’t for the fact we’re literally partners and I think we’d kill each other within two weeks. You okay with that?”

Pausing, you look him over and see he was serious. You would be something more with him if he wanted too, and you knew it wasn’t possible right now as well. The fact that Jimin was potentially open to it in the future made your stomach twist but you nodded in acknowledgement, giving him a small smile. 

You two were partners; you spent twelve hours a day with each other on the job investigating murders and more. As much as you’d love to be able to claim him for your own, you knew a relationship would not stand that. Too much time together without enough to talk about would leave your free time resulting in resentment of each other. You’d seen it happen with partners before.

The two of you would get new partners at some point though, and you would jump on him then. For now though, you simply grin.

“What do they call people like us? It’s not friends with benefits, though we are friends. Partners with benefits? Colleagues with benefits?” You muse to yourself, standing and ignoring the cum that leaks from you even more. It’s probably a good idea, because Jimin certainly has noticed it as he puts in the order for your usual at the local takeaway.

“I believe, fuck buddies will suffice.” Grinning at you, he wiggles his brows as you grab your clothes and move off to the bathroom. Nodding in response, you muse that at least you’ll both be stress free when you work from now on. Or at least...less stressed than before.

“Fuck buddies it is. Make sure you get some of the honey butter fried chicken for me!”

-

The loud, familiar beep of a call makes you look down at your band, thankful that the hovercar has been set to automatic. Glancing over at Jimin where he sits in the passenger seat, you raise your brows at him and lift your wrist.

“It’s Jeon, guessing he has news for us.” You say, watching as Jimin’s lips twist at the sight of Jungkook’s name. The two of you had thankfully been completely normal since the frantic sex a few nights ago, which you were grateful for, and it was almost amusing how easily you both slipped into your work personas around each other.

“Hopefully. Or at least something that we can lead with.” The two of you were going to interview one of Namjoon’s friends that had been out of the country since Namjoon’s murder. A fact that both of you found strange, given Seokjin had explicitly said that Min Yoongi had been the one to tell them to visit the casino.

But you’d just had to wait for him to come back, and a week after the murder he finally had. You thought he’d probably come back for Namjoon’s funeral, which had been scheduled for the following week. The autopsy report had come back for him, though you haven’t received it personally. It was probably what Jungkook was calling about.

Usually the CSA’s would compile a full report of all the crime scene analysis along with the autopsy report so you didn’t have to wait around for the other. It was a pain when one took longer, but it usually ended up being easier to read so you were pretty content with it. Any extra tests that were required did come in the form of extra reports, and you were hoping that there was no need to wait for any of that.

Pressing the band, a small holoscreen popped up just above your wrist with Jungkook’s face prominent. He looked to be distracted, his lower lip pulled between his teeth as he hummed something while his brows were furrowed, concentrating on something you couldn’t see. 

There was no mask on his face today and you noted the strong jawline he had along with the almost chiselled features. It was almost amusing how his big, bright eyes could make him go from looking like a certifiable badass to the sweetest guy ever. There was a reason he was hugely popular at the station.

Today though, he just looked all business and you knew he was in work mode. As expected really. Looking away from whatever had his attention, his eyes met yours through the small screen and he gave a small smile. Two black ball studs dotted his lower lip, shining slightly against the light of whatever screens he was looking at.

“Afternoon Detective,” He said as a greeting before nodding his head to Jimin when he saw his face too. “I’ve got the CSA and autopsy report for you. I’m sending it through now. Unfortunately I don’t have a lot more to give you regards to the crime scene. I’ve narrowed down the types of boots available but given how clean this scene was, it could be that they used a different sized shoe purposefully or even grafted a different sole onto their boot. It’s not much I’m afraid.”

Sighing deeply, you nod and give him a small smile. As expected, but actually hearing it made it all sound even harder. Glancing over at Jimin, you saw the tiredness on his own face as well. Having no evidence at the crime scene meant your jobs were going to be much harder.

“However, there was something interesting in the autopsy report. A quick overview for you, there was nothing of interest anywhere. Cause of death was a single laser shot to the forehead at close range, which we’d already figured out anyway. He had consumed large quantities of alcohol and there were traces of nemesis in his system but not enough to cause concern. Sounds like he had a fun night.” Jungkook smirked.

Nemesis was the new drug of choice in the city. Despite its name, it was pretty harmless thankfully and only resulted in a pleasant high. As Jungkook noted, nothing of worth there. But you were interested in whatever had caught his eye.

“Okay, sounds exactly like Seokjin told us. What’s the interesting thing?” Jimin asks, his thought process evidently following yours and you nod in response to his words. Biting your lip, you wondered if maybe this could be the breakthrough you need.

“Namjon had a few of the gene updates that are common with families with the money for it. The usual updates; updated immune system, increased brain capacity and all that. Nothing of real interest or help. However, he had exactly one cybernetic augmentation. His right eye. From what the pathologist noted, it’s exceptionally old, probably from in his first five years of life. It’s been sent over to the hackers for more investigation, they’ve been given a high priority notice so I would probably expect you to be able to have some more information by the time you get back.” He finishes his call promptly, letting you know that the reports have been copied into the case files and usual back ups for you before ending it.

Looking over at Jimin with risen brows, you see a similar look of surprise and confusion on his face too.

“I’m not being stupid here right? The guy who apparently has anti-aug views has his own augmentation? And an eye at that?” Jimin’s own augmented eye is bright in the hovercar, the sky outside perpetually gloomy and overcast from centuries of pollution. Shifting in his chair, he looks at you thoughtfully with his lips pursed.

“I mean...it is possible to have those views and also have an augmentation. But...it is pretty hypocritical.” Letting out a groan, you rub at your forehead as you slump in your seat. Licking your lips, you roll your head to look at him.

“Right, well. It’s probably a useless fact at this point. If it’s from that long ago then it likely has nothing of interest for us but we’ll swing by the hacker lab later,” The hacker lab was the slang term for the people who worked in the technology lab, those whose specialty was investigating any tech evidence that came in. “But for now, at least we can go in with what is hopefully surprising information.”

As you say this, the hovercar begins to settle into a space at the parking lot of the tower Min Yoongi lived in. Exiting, you both move towards the elevator and enter the number of the apartment you’d been given. There’s a brief pause and you get the feeling the elevator is asking permission of said apartment before the elevator begins to move.

“Are we actually expecting anything that could help break the case here?” Jimin asks and you know he’s been thinking the same as you. This murder was so clean, so perfect, that under any other circumstances, you’d have been tempted to just give in immediately. But you couldn’t, not this time in particular.

“No. I’m not. And we’re gonna be severely fucked if we don’t get something soon. You know damn well that they’re not gonna take this lightly that we have no information. Even though they probably know the hard spot we’ve put in.” Your partner snorts loudly at that as the elevator comes to a halt, the doors sliding open smoothly to reveal an elegant hallway. 

It’s lit stylishly with subtle lighting in the ceiling while a luscious, thick black carpet coats the floors. You think the carpet is stupid, because what if someone came in with particularly muddy or wet shoes? Then it’d be fucked, but hey. Rich people.

There are dainty tables made of what looks to be real black wood positioned at intervals between the black metal doors and you note idly that there are only four doors on this entire floor. Which means the apartments beyond must be ridiculously large. The hallway alone is bigger than your entire apartment.

“Can you imagine being this rich?” You mutter, gesturing to the real flowers that sit in a clear glass vase, the stems a luscious green while an array of bright colour gives off a sweet fragrance. Above the vase is a framed painting of...well you don’t know what it is. Lines, apparently.

Jimin looks around and shrugs, amusement on his face as you both reach the correct apartment door and press the button to alert him to your presence. “No. That’d require me to look at this shit and think ‘ah, this is nice’ when in reality I’m thinking ‘someone actually paid for that painting?’”

That gets a laugh from you which you quickly cut off when Min Yoongi answers the door, his face pale with dark shadows under his eyes. He scans you both over quickly before welcoming you inside with a small smile, apologising to you for being so late in responding to your interview response.

“It’s fine Mr Min, we just have a few questions and then we’ll be gone.” He pauses before nodding, his shoulders slumping slightly and you glance over at Jimin questioningly. A slight shrug is all you receive before he carries on scanning the apartment with interest.

Yoongi leads you both to a black leather couch, the cushions artfully placed on it a mix of silver and cream. After an offer of a drink, which you both decline graciously, he sits down on a matching couch heavily.

Setting up the recording as usual, you look directly at Yoongi and smile reassuringly at him. “Could you please tell us what happened that night? Anything you can remember might be helpful to us.”

He pauses for a moment before nodding, taking a sip of the cup of coffee he’d already had. The scent is delicious and you wonder about maybe asking for a drink after all. It smells like Min Yoongi uses real coffee, which is more than enticing.

“Erm, I’d been working all day. I work at the headquarters of my father’s bank, Min Banking, and we’re in the middle of a takeover of a Hong Kong based bank. So I’d been at work from 6am until 9pm and wanted to relax. Seokjin said he and Namjoon were going out and wanted some fun, so we met up at a club. Had a few drinks there, talked about the usual crap. They wanted to keep going but my midnight, I was done. And I had to travel to Hong Kong the next morning, which is why I’ve been gone. So I told them about the casino that some of my other friends had been to.“ Yoongi looks down then, guilt etched into his face and he looks far more tired than you’d anticipated.

“I didn’t know that would be the last time I saw Namjoon,” There are tears in his eyes now, his voice croaking slightly. “I just...they always went out together, you know? Namjoon and Seokjin were like a pair and they were always fine. And then...and then this happens? I just, was it my fault for telling them to go there?”

Shaking your head, you give him a sweet smile. “No, don’t think that way. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”

Jimin nods along with you and you both give Yoongi time to compose himself once more. Wiping his eyes, he gives you a weak smile before shrugging.

“I’m four years older than them both. Our families are old friends, it’s how it always is. So they were always little brothers to me, you know? Looked up to me and I tried to look after them too. Namjoon had such a bright future ahead of him, you know? He was going to run for mayor and everything, his dad had been grooming him for it his whole life basically and he’d finally decided he wanted it.” Nodding, you let him get everything out. It wasn’t useful to interrupt in interviews too often and was better to let them get into a flow.

“It’s hard to...Namjoon was so nice. He’d never annoyed anyone. Who would want to kill him? And why?” 

Pursing your lips, you take a deep breath as you offer a potential answer for him. “We’ve been told that apparently Namjoon had some, anti-augmentation views that were becoming a bit stronger in recent years? We understand it had something to do with his mother and the Dongdaemun Attack?”

Yoongi snorts, his eyes rolling and you’re almost taken aback by the contempt in his eyes for what you tell him. When he sees the obvious surprise in yours, and Jimin’s, eyes he flushes slightly before explaining.

“Namjoon had some anti-aug views yeah, but they weren’t nearly as intense as everyone thought. He wrote a paper on it for his postgrad and he’d talk about it but...you have to understand Namjoon. Who he was. He was...one of those philosophical types, you know? He’d theorise constantly, be coming up ideas and thoughts. It wasn’t that he actually hated augmentations, it was more like...he wondered where the limit was going to be? Where humanity would stop and machines would take over. But he certainly wasn’t running around screaming that augmentations should be stopped. He also didn’t like eating meat, if we’re talking about the things he wasn’t fond of.” Yoongi’s voice has turned gruff and you hesitate, pausing to glance over to Jimin.

You’d gotten the impression so far that Namjoon wasn’t as gungho about his beliefs as you were initially told, but you hadn’t been given quite this in depth of a look into his mind. If what Yoongi was saying was true, and you had to admit that everyone had been pretty adamant that Namjoon wasn’t some raging conspiracy theorist, then perhaps even this avenue was a bust.

“So...he wasn’t bothered about his own cybernetic eye?” Jimin stated bluntly, his own face a picture of disgruntlement that the ideas you’d had were now falling apart in front of you. Yoongi jerks slightly, his eyes widening in astonishment before confusion takes over. It’s only for a second before you see comprehension in his expression.

“Ah, yeah. I totally forgot about that. When he was a kid, like 4 or something, he got this virus in his eye from some weird bug. They couldn’t save the eye so they had to remove it. Given his parents and their wealth, they obviously went for a cybernetic replacement but they had it made so that there were no symptoms of it. It didn’t show up on scanners and it just showed whatever he saw with his natural eye, no writing or special enhancements. Solely a replacement eye.” Lips pursing, you want to shout out loud and throw your hands up given the wrench this was throwing into the works.

You’d finally had a fucking breakthrough, only to be told that it was probably nothing at all. Rubbing at your eyes, you let Jimin take over the interview for a few minutes.

“Why? Is that important?” Yoongi’s question is urgent and you wish you had something better to say to him. Some way to give him some hope, or at least closure in regards to all this. Instead, all you have is even more questions.

“We don’t know yet. We’ll have to find out. But the information you’ve provided us is very helpful, and we appreciate your time. Is there anything else you might remember?”

-

Walking through the police station, Jimin and you quietly discuss the interview with Yoongi as you head towards the hackers lab. It had been a bust really, and both of you knew it. The lead with the eye was looking like a dead end already, and now you’d been told that his anti-augmentation views weren’t even that bad. It was ridiculous how little evidence you had.

The doors to the hacker lab opens up and you grimace as the room inside is far darker than outside. And that’s to say nothing of the ridiculous array of gadgets, figurines and more than dot almost every free inch. The hackers were aptly nicknamed as they were usually recruited when they were caught hacking some aspect of the police network. It was almost a right of honour now.

One thing they all seemed to have in common was a love of crap, ridiculous colours and doing questionable things that often made you wonder how they were still on the police force. A slight pressure on the small back of your back indicates that Jimin is behind you and you let him move you forward through the desks, noting the large number of holoscreens that clutter each desk.

There’s even one with six screens, and you’re about to ask how on earth they get any work done but you’re past him before you can say anything. The desk Jimin leads you to is occupied by an eccentric guy you’ve come to know over the years. For some reason, it seems like he’s been assigned to your team or something. But he’s good at his job, so you’ll let the odd collection of creepy dolls on his desk go. And the stupid, oversized glasses on his face that reflect every damn bit of light in the room.

His desk has three screens open, a holo keyboard at his fingertips as they dart across it at impossible speeds. Eyes widening, you watch him for a few seconds in amusement. Kim Taehyung was only twenty-two years old, but he’d been working here for over four years now. After he’d got caught hacking into the cold case files.

Why he’d wanted them, you had no idea. And neither did anyone else, as he’d never bothered to tell anyone his reasoning. But he’d joined the force and been ridiculously productive since. You almost got the impression that he seemed to think he was living in a show or a film or something.

His hair today is glowing neon green, the tips blending into a yellow that’s so disgusting you actually scrunch your nose at him. He looks like the pee of a teenager after a night out in the most popular clubs in the city. And you know, because you’ve seen exactly what that looks like many times. Why people felt the need to ingest stuff that actually glows is beyond you.

His face is dotted with piercings; two studding his upper lip and two mirroring this on his lower, a piercing similar to Jimin’s in the centre of his lower lip and two nose piercings. His eyebrow has been pierced three times and there’s a cheek piercing too while his ears are probably making excellent impersonations of Swiss cheese.

Glancing up at you both when Jimin coughs loudly, Taehyung’s eyes are almost comically big beneath his glasses and he grins brightly at the sight of you both. It’s stupid how beautiful Kim Taehyung is and you’re not surprised that he’s also another hearthrob at the station. His smile is always laced with mischief though, and there’s nothing different today about it.

“Detectives! Come, come! Sit, sit!” He says eagerly, rolling his chair back and gesturing to the space next to him. This gets him a blank look from you both as there isn’t anything for you to sit on but you just shrug, crouching down while Jimin stands behind you.

“There’s no chair’s dickface.” Comes a feminine voice to your left and you look over to see Lee Siyeon, Taehyung’s partner in crime and the other hacker who often works on your cases. She’s basically the female equivalent of him and you’re about positive that they also have some kind of ‘fuck buddies’ thing going on, but you’ve never managed to get a confirmation out of them.

Her long hair is swept up into two, high pigtails on either side of her head with one side being neon pink and the other neon blue. Black lipstick coats her lips and her eyes are done with equally dark makeup, but you find that she pulls it off with the contrasting irises she has at the moment. Both her eyes were augmentations and she’d been one of those who chose to have the ability to change her eye colour on the fly.

Right now, the eye opposite the pink is blue and the one opposite the blue is pink. A multitude of piercings are present on her face as well, but she’s also got some chest piercings that you can see. She has on a tight dress that accentuates her breasts and lets you see the unique piercings in her skin while the bottom is puffy with layers of white, pink and blue and her long legs covered in fishnet tights, black leather boots with high soles making their way up her calves.

Taehyung pauses to look at the space before making a surprised expression before shrugging. “Oh yeah. Oh well, sorry. So we got the eye last night actually and I’ve been working on it for you.”

“Really? All this time? Why?” Jimin asks, his tone much nicer than the blunt words he asks. It’s always odd how well he gets on with Taehyung, given his naturally broody and sarcastic manner. Without even realising it, you end up leaning back against Jimin’s sturdy legs as you watch Taehyung’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Because there’s shit on it? Why else?” Of course, how silly of you both. Laughing, you lean forwards to rest your arms on his desk and take a look at the eye on his desk. It’s kinda creepy and you shiver, looking away from it. Taehyung had plugged it in to his unit and you found it weird how natural it looked.

“We got told by our interviewee that he got it after a virus when he was younger. Had to have the eye out, but given Kim Namjoon’s...feelings towards augmentation, we find it a bit hard to understand why no one else brought this up?” You query, looking at Taehyung with raised brows. He lets out an understanding noise before his fingers move over the keyboard once more.

“Well, that’s understandable. This is your basic eye, gives you absolutely nothing besides the bare minimum. It’s not even designed to give you a better resolution or colour or anything. Literally just a replacement, nothing interesting about that part of it. What is it interesting though, is that it has been designed to record for forty-eight hours intervals. After that time, the data is deleted and it starts again.” He taps once more and brings up a video screen, giving you a disorienting first person view of Kim Seokjin as he laughs, a table below covered in poker chips.

Standing up abruptly, you automatically grasp the arm of Jimin’s coat.

“Holy shit, are you telling me…” You let the question die off, your voice quieting as you look at Jimin and see the excitement reflected back at you. His grin starts to spread and you squeal, jerking his arm around as you realise this was hopefully the break you’d been looking for.

“Yep, we have the moment of his death.” Your intrepid little hacker smirks at you both, leaning back in his arms with his arms over his chest. Why he looks so smug, you don’t know because you’re pretty sure he didn’t actually do anything that you couldn’t have done, but whatever. You could kiss him right now.

“I created an algorithm that filtered out all the scenes of black that would have been caused by him blinking or sleeping, anything that would have had his eye closed. There’s no need for you to look at that, which leaves you with a hefty amount of footage still.” Siyeon interrupts, blowing a bubble of baby pink gum before it pops and she goes back to chewing.

Her own fingers are tapping the keyboard just as quickly as Taehyung’s and she doesn’t look over at you both, but you tell her thanks as well. It would help to make it quicker to view over the overall footage to see if there was anything noteworthy in the hours leading up to Namjoon’s death.

“Yes she did, my little sugar bumpkin,” He coos at her, making kissing motions and you look at Jimin in amusement of it all. “Anyway, what I spent all my time doing once the data was filtered was running facial scans on everyone it saw. There’s a bunch of towers, a few interesting people in the casino that should not be gambling...and this guy.”

The screen changes to show a dark image with an impossibly bright centre and you squint, leaning forward. Recognising the alley that you’d been in the other night, you purse your lips as you get your first actual look at the man who killed Kim Namjoon. It’s just at the moment he fired, a burst of bright purple-white laser fire lighting up his face.

Just as Seokjin had said, he wore a mask on his lower face that was studded with silver spikes and you note with interest that the laser is coming from the end of his finger. Humming, you lean your weight on the desk and idly recognise the feel of Jimin’s hand on your back as he takes a closer look too.

“Well, this makes it concurrent with our ideas of a contract kill. Who else has a laser gun embedded in their damn finger?” Jimin murmurs, his voice as his hand moves in a slow and reassuring manner. Making a noise, you move in even closer to look at the eyes.

“His eyes are neon green, probably augmentations. And it looks like he has a tattoo on that side of his face, black.” Trailing your finger over the image, you bite your lip before leaning back. All more points towards it being a hit.

“You’re right detective, and that’s why you get paid the big bucks. This dude is most definitely a pay and spray,” Taehyung uses the crude slang to indicate a contract killer. “What’s more interesting is that his face popped up earlier in Namjoon’s vision. Not close to him, more in the background and it’s only because he used a laser fire that we would’ve got the visual of his eyes so clearly, otherwise the programme wouldn’t have been able to match him.”

Both of your heads whip towards Taehyung, anticipation running through your body as you realised what he’d just said. Already you can feel your breath coming a little faster, wondering if this moment was truly it, the moment you’d crack it open. And so quickly!

“Turns out Mr Killer has a record, but he’s untouchable.” A tap of his finger brings up a mugshot and a profile of the man who had been responsible for ending Kim Namjoon’s life. The name glows brightly and you whisper it softly, reading through the information.

Name: Jung Hoseok. 

Age: Unknown

DOB: Unknown

Height: 5’10

Weight: 69kg

Father: Unknown

Mother: Unknown

Emergency Contact: Unknown

Crimes: Mugging, breaking and entering, grand theft auto, murder, manslaughter

Convictions: None

Notes: A member of the White Tiger Clan, suspected as the Clan’s hitman and cleaner. Exceptionally dangerous, do not approach. 

“Oh my fucking god,” You murmur, your blood running cold as you read over the information once more. His eyes are cold, almost dead, in the mugshot and you find that impressive given they’re not even real. But it’s the information you’d read that makes it worse. “The fucking White Tiger Clan. We were right, he was a hit killing.”

“It has to be because of his dad. I know he’s been clashing with some of the underground clans and cartels for a while now, and they’re one of the biggest out there. There’s no wonder he’s never been convicted of anything. Officers probably look in the other direction because I certainly wouldn’t want to be the one to try and bring him in. And even if you do, you’ve got the clan on your head.” Jimin moves backwards, tongue in his cheek while he crosses his arms over his chest.

You understand where he’s coming from and feel your own stomach sinking at the thought. This was exactly the break you’d needed, and it was the exact opposite of what you’d actually wanted the whole time. He was untouchable. Even to the mayor.

“Fuck Jimin, we got so close.” Hissing, you let your forehead fall onto his head as your frustration takes over, hands balling into fists by your sides. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you know he’s thinking things through as well, wondering how on earth you’re meant to navigate this bombshell.

Sure, you could tell the mayor that you’d found who killed his son but that there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d be able to bring that person to justice. But he wouldn’t like that, nor would he accept that. Even if he knows it’s impossible.

Jimin and you were in between a rock and a hard place, and neither of you knew what you were going to do now.

-

A week later, you’re sitting with Jimin in one of the diners near your apartment. It’s a tiny bit grotty, and you’re not entirely sure if it’s passed the food standards requirements but all you care about is that the food is good and the staff are...well they serve the food with minimal complaints. 

Given how the case has stalled so spectacularly, you’re craving greasy carbs that will do absolutely nothing for your body except taste damn good. Which is why you have a cheeseburger that’s positively dripping grease, the cheese as fake as they come and the bread slightly soggy. The fries are crisp at least, and you dip one into the small cup of ketchup you’d been given.

It tasted full of artificial flavours and sugars, but you didn’t give a damn. Not when your mood was so low. The two of you had been given a reaming by your section chief, who had informed you that you had both better bring Jung Hoseok in for questioning or you’d lose your jobs.

“We’re absolutely fucked.” You murmur despondently, twirling a fry around with a pout as you slump into the cracked, faux red leather. This was one of those replica diners that simulated some era a few centuries ago. It was gaudy as fuck but whatever.

Jimin hummed in acknowledgement, his own dinner consisting of a shredded barbeque beef sandwich that was loaded with equally fake cheese, fried onions and tomatoes. A weird combination but whatever.

He was a lot healthier than you usually, but he probably needed the energy burst as well. You’d like to say that you’d both been hard at the case since the meeting with Taehyung, but in reality you’d both just ended up resolving and closing other cases that were open and engaging in...well a lot of stress fuelled sex.

Which was great, but there were a lot of underlying frustrations about your work coming out in it. This morning had been one such explosive session, given that you’d been scheduled to meet with the chief once you got into work. Both of you knew what that meant and the stress and anxiety had all blown up into some ridiculously good sex. That relaxed mood it had put you two into plummeted quickly though in the meeting.

“We may as well just submit our resignation now, because we can’t win this case! It’s impossible,” Scowling, you squish the fry in your fingers. “If we don’t bring Hoseok in, then we will probably end up losing our jobs and given who Kim Namjoon’s father is, we probably won’t get a job here in New Seoul after that. But if we bring him in then we’re probably just gonna get straight up murdered by the White Tiger Clan for daring to bring their pet killer in. Or he’ll kill us first!”

Tongue licking at his lips, Jimin inhales deeply before letting it out and taking another bite of his sandwich. He chews slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face and you wish that you could see into his mind. Your partner was always the more level headed out of the two of you, but right now you desperately wanted him to get angry too.

He must sense the scowl on your face as he reaches out and takes the ruined fry from your hand and places it down before holding your hand in his own. Looking at him through narrowed eyes, you take in how relaxed his face looks.

“Hey, come on. This isn’t our fault, you know that. I know that. We’ll figure it out somehow. And...well, even if we don’t then I guess at least we’ll be jobless together, eh?” His smile is an obvious attempt to make you laugh but your spirits are so long that it doesn’t work and instead, you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying suddenly.

You’d never failed so badly on a case before and it irritates you even more to know that it’s not even your fault. That everyone was just being outside circumstances.

Jimin does say anything, but the gentle squeeze of his hand around yours lets you know that he’s there for you. Lowering your head, you simply use your other hand to bring the burger to your mouth and take a big bite, chewing almost sullenly.

You don’t notice the way Jimin suddenly stiffens as he sees something out of the window.

“Hey, hey. Look out the window. The fucker…” He trails off and you look up, squinting out of the darkened windows. It’s dim outside as usual, the only lighting coming from the abundance of neon signs for the stores and other diners around here and a lot of the interior lighting is being reflected as well.

But then you see what he does and your eyes widen in shock, your own body tensing up as you recognise the person standing on the other side of the glass. His mask is the same as the one that he’d been wearing when he killed Namjoon and those green eyes look almost eerie as they look over you both. 

Shuddering, you realise that you don’t like the fact that you can’t tell what’s going behind those eyes. Jung Hoseok tilts his head back, his black hair falling out of his eyes as he raises his eyebrows at you both, almost as if he was asking a question and expecting an answer.

And then he lifts up a hand, pointing at you in a finger gun style motion and your heart stops. You vaguely recognise Jimin saying something and moving but all you can focus on is the tip of his finger. The same finger that had produced the laser blast that killed Kim Namjoon.

When he ‘pulls the trigger’ though, nothing happens. Instead, you see the skin beneath his eyes puff up in what is obviously a smile beneath his mask before he waves goodbye at you both, almost cheerily. Taking a deep breath, that’s a little more shaky than you would like to admit, you watch as he turns around and walks away from the diner.

“Is he fucking kidding?” Jimin hisses and you realise he’s next to you, his knee up on the bench and his augmented arm over your chest. A part of you warms when you realise he’s protecting you, but you’re still being a little slow on the whole uptake right now frankly.

Before you can even say anything, Jimin is tapping his band to the payment screen on the table and throwing his coat on, his gaze focused firmly on the figure walking away. Suddenly, you realise what he’s going to do and you stand just as quickly, grabbing your own coat as fear runs through you.

“Jimin, Jimin no! We can’t!” You hiss at him, running after him as he marches out of the diner with what must be death on his mind. But you can’t stop him, despite trying to push him. Swallowing thickly, you glance over at Hoseok’s retreating form and try to get through to Jimin once more.

“Jimin!” You stand in front of him, refusing to move until he stops. Finally, he looks down at you and you shiver at the sight of the pure anger in his eyes. But you need to stop him, before he does something insanely stupid. “It’s a trap, don’t you see? Why else would he fucking turn up? And I mean, holy shit. He’s literally baiting us! He couldn’t be any more obvious!”

He takes a deep breath, eyes closing and you rest your hands on his arms, squeezing gently as you try to get through to him. “Please Jimin, please. Think. This is a set up, it’s so obvious. We’ve never even heard of the guy and then suddenly he’s outside our booth at a diner? He wants us to follow him!”

Jimin’s lips purse before he relaxes, his eyes still firmly on Hoseok’s rapidly disappearing form.

“I know, I know it’s a trap. But god dammit, he fucking killed Kim Namjoon, he’s killed who knows who else. And he just threatened you!” His voice goes low at that, the sheer anger blazing in him and you’d probably feel a lot differently about his protectiveness if you weren’t so terrified right now.

“It doesn’t matter. Jimin, we know damn well if we go after him then he’ll probably try to kill us. It’ll be a game to him. Or maybe he’s under orders to kill us.” You try to get through to him and Jimin finally looks down at you, tongue in his cheek as he thinks.

“I know. I know all that. But we have to try at least. If we follow him, we can try and get him before he leads us into whatever trap he’s set up. I have my stunner on me, he can’t combat that right? So we get close to him, hit him with it and see what he can tell us.” Eyes wide, you lean back from him with a frown.

“Are you fucking kidding? Are you trying to get him to torture us before he kills us? What the fuck?” But Jimin is walking past you, his pace fast as he strides to catch up to Hoseok. Unable to do anything else, and frankly unwilling to let your partner die alone despite his stupidity, you follow after him while pleading the whole time.

The scenery around you remains the same as before, generic shops dotting the floor and late night diners filled with hungry workers and teenagers with nothing else to do. Nightclubs are beginning to open up around the city and their own signs are a little more lewd, a bit more inviting.

“Where did he go?” Jimin suddenly asks out loud, pausing as he frowns and looks around the street. It’s one of those streets that you’d only go to if you had to, aka for your job, and you shuffle slightly closer to him at the sight of the unsavoury people around. Licking your lips, you look around as well and notice that Hoseok has vanished.

Uneasiness stirs in your stomach and you turn to ask Jimin to leave, that it wasn’t worth it. But then suddenly you’re both being grabbed from behind, your arms immobilized while the mouth of a gun is pressed to your neck. Managing to glance over to Jimin, you see that he’s in the same position and a sense of relief runs over you.

Which is stupid, but at least if you’re going to die then your idiot partner is going to die too.

“Detectives, I’m afraid we’re going to have to take your weapons.” The voice behind you is deep and you feel the familiar, economical movement of a pat down. Any weapons you have are confiscated and the same happens to Jimin, though at least he has his arm. “You are now in the territory of the White Tiger Clan. I recommend neither of you do anything stupid.”

Glaring at Jimin as you’re both manhandled into a sketchy club to your right, you manage to lean over to him to hiss angrily. “Oh sure, just follow him. We’ll get him before anything happens right? Well now we’re fucking in the custody of the god damn White Tiger Clan. If we never get seen from again, then it’s your fault.”

Jimin’s eyes roll, but you note the way he moves a little closer to you. Almost protectively. You’d be annoyed that he thought you were a damsel in distress but honestly, he was the better one for protecting. That cybernetic arm of his was not only stronger but was also made from a bulletproof metal compound. He had more chance of surviving this than you did.

The main room of the club looks like any other club you’ve seen; dark and sensual lighting, hologirl’s dancing on circular tables dotted throughout while people danced with wild abandon. There looked to be a good mix of towers and grafters in the room. Multicoloured hair glowed in the UV lights while clothing was a cacophony of loud patterns and vibrant colours.

It smelled of sweat and the artificial scent of endorphins that were no doubt being pumped through the ventilation system. There had been more than a few cases that you’d been on where the ‘endorphins’ that a club used had resulted in a death. Most people just got happy, maybe a little frisky. Some got violent.

Shuddering, you tried to limit how deeply you breathed. You sure could use Jungkook’s ventilator right now, but you had no doubt that the whole point of bringing you both here was so that whatever was in the air would make you a little more amenable. It rankled, and you tried to keep your face neutral when you were both led up a set of stairs at the back, discreetly hidden through subtle lighting.

At the top of the stairs was a balcony, the barrier blocking anyone from falling made of glass that seemed to have been coated in a non-reflective material. Pursing your lips, you gazed out over the club for a moment and took in the scene of pure debauchery before you. It looked even more hedonistic from here, the smoke from various machines around the room combining with the vape smoke people were using greedily, sharing from mouth to mouth.

The bar was lit up in a blaze of neon blue and purple, the colours surprisingly subtle given how loud they were. People were crowding the bar, three deep and you could see glowing drinks being handed out by the synth bartender, credits flowing between the customers and the bartender.

Finally though, you turned your gaze to the only table on the balcony. It was made of the same non-reflective glass as the barrier while the couches that surrounded it were a dark black, the leather reflecting the lights that flashed around the room.

Sitting with his legs crossed on one end of the couch was Jung Hoseok, now maskless as he looked entirely too relaxed for the little chase he’d led you both on. A smirk graced his lips, two rings dotted in his lower lip while studs dotted the same places on his upper lip, another in the centre of his skin below his lower lip. That was all combined with the piercing in his cheeks, the two metal balls looking prominent.

You’re struck by how similar his piercings are to Kim Taehyung’s and a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of your clever little hacker.

Those neon green eyes stare at you intently, his eyelids narrowing as he looks you up and down and you get the urge to sneer at the killer. The tattoo that paints itself over one half of his face, the lines thick and solid, look even more striking in the poor lighting, his natural skin looking sallow and pale.

Lifting a hand, he waves at you cheerily before winking in amusement. “You two are fun to play with. Thank you for following along, I enjoyed it.”

“You’re a sick fuck.” Jimin hissed, his eyes narrowing as he bared his teeth at Hoseok. Shifting over to him slightly, you pressed your hand against Jimin’s arm in a gentle warning. You desperately wanted to tell him to not piss off the contract killer because the last thing you needed was making an enemy of him.

“Maybe so. But you’re not going to do anything about it.” Hoseok grins, uncrossing his legs before sitting back casually. And then he looks over to the woman sitting at his right and raises one brow. “Right?”

“That’s right. You may be NSPD but in here, you’re nothing but a pain in my ass.” The woman says, her voice casual but you can practically hear the condescension in it. She’s wearing a red leather dress, the material tight and clingy to her body while matching thigh high stilettos cling to her legs. You’re almost jealous of how good she looks.

Sleek black hair has been completely pushed back from her face, the strands looking almost wet or gelled so that she perpetually looks as if she’s just risen from the ocean depths or something. A holographic red visor covers her eyes, whether it’s a stylistic choice or it actually offers her information, you don’t know but it just adds to the intimidating look she’s got going on.

Vibrant red lipstick coats her luscious lips while talon like claws look as if she’s dipped them into fresh blood. A tap against her temple has the visor vanishing and you’re left seeing her full face properly. It’s elegantly sculpted with high cheekbones and a statuesque nose, her brows carefully drawn on while her wide, sea blue eyes are lined in thick black with a strong ruby line running along the crease of her eyelid.

You knew who she was, and your stomach felt a little nauseous as you realise Hoseok had led you both directly to the top. She was Kim Taeyeon, the leader of the White Tiger Clan. One of the most powerful people in the entirety of New Seoul. She held the power of her Clan in her elegant hands and had been responsible for hundreds of deaths in the city, thousands of addicts and probably millions of family heartaches.

She was probably one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, and that made her all the more frightening. Because she didn’t look like the type of woman who ordered assassinations, who planned out hostile takeovers of rival clans and cartels, who arranged drug shipping routes through the city and to other areas of the country, even other countries. But she was, and she did it with ruthless efficiency.

“Kim Taeyeon...I didn’t expect to be meeting you today.” You say calmly, trying to hide the fact that you were more nervous than you’d ever been before right now. The reality of your situation was starting to sink in, and god you wished someone else had been the one to answer that homicide call.

She smirked in response, tilting her head as she scanned over the both of you before carefully gesturing to the couch next to her. Neither you nor Jimin went to move, and the sudden movement of what was obviously Taeyeon’s bodyguard caused you to startle.

The woman had been standing silently by the side of the couch and it was only as you looked at her now that you realised she was probably more machine than human. One half of her head had been shaved, the skin there tattooed while cybernetic implants burrowed their way into her skull. One eye was a solid white, not even an attempt to recreate a human looking eye while the other glowed a fiery orange.

A fitted black jacket adorned her torso, beneath it a carefully pressed white button up. You could see her hands were metal, the same kind that Jimin had and you realised that both her arms were probably augmentations. The black hair that remained was straight and reached her shoulder, half covering a pretty face.

As Jimin and you sat at the proferred seat, she moved back into place and you watched with dual fascination and disgust as a thick wire crept down from the ceiling. It moved sinuously and she jerked slightly as it latched onto what must be a socket at the back of her neck. Almost instantly, her white eye turned black and her expression vacant.

You weren’t someone who had any real aversion to augmentations or anything, viewing it as a person’s own choice. But part of you certainly agreed with the anti-auger’s when it came to people like this woman. There didn’t look to be much humanity left in her and it made you feel cold.

Turning back to Taeyeon, you saw her watching you carefully before she glanced at the bodyguard. Almost instantly you feel hot with embarrassment, having been caught out staring so blatantly.

“Her name is Dami. She’s currently plugged into the security system here, watching and hearing everything that’s going on. The ultimate protection, yes?” Her brow raises elegantly before she gestures to the glasses that have been produced by a silent waiter.

“No, thank you.” You say politely and cringe internally as her eyes harden.

“Drink. It’s just water. I swear.” Jimin takes one of the glasses and presses it to his lips, slowly drinking the clear liquid inside. Reaching for your own, you watch him for a moment before seeing his subtle nod and taking your own drink. Well, if you’ve just been poisoned then at least both of you are going to die together.

That’s almost romantic, in a morbid kind of way.

“So, my two lovely little police officers. I hear that you’ve been searching for my little killer butterfly for a few weeks now.” A hand movement made you both glance towards Hoseok, who grinned at his macabre nickname.

“Yes, well. We have a few questions that we’d like to ask your...little killer butterfly.” You’re almost impressed by how much venom Jimin managed to put in that sentence, only it fills you with an equal amount of worry too. Was he purposefully trying to get killed.

“You can ask your questions to me. I know why you’re here.” Taeyeon said curtly, her lips pursing in an expression that made you feel very nervous indeed. If she knew why you were here, then what exactly was going to be happening from now? This was entirely unknown territory for you.

“Why you?” At that blunt question, you do hit Jimin’s thigh. It makes him jolt slightly and he looks at you briefly, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. But you don’t care as you give him an equally annoyed expression, silently asking him if he’s trying to get you both killed.

“A testy one, aren’t you Detective Park Jimin? No worries, I can only imagine how unnerving it must be to be in the heart of all this criminal debauchery. I don’t care though. You will deal with me, because this is my club and my Clan and he is my killer. He kills who I tell him to. Therefore, I am the one whom you will ask questions to. Is that clear?” A tilt of her head finishes her question and you swallow hard, throat surprisingly dry despite the drink you’d just had.

“We understand.” You say quickly before Jimin can offend her again. Taking a moment to inhale and settle yourself, you lick your lips before carrying on. “We believe that Jung Hoseok is the person who killed our victim in a homicide that occurred-”

“Yes, yes,” Taeyeon waves her hand, her eyes rolling with exasperation. “He killed Kim Namjoon, that’s correct. He killed him because he was ordered to kill him. There were no hard feelings.”

Her easy admittance has your eyes widening, causing you to look at Jimin. His own expression is a little more neutral than your own, but you’ve known him long enough that you can also see the surprise etched deeply within him. 

Had she just...openly admitted to having Kim Namjoon murdered? Part of you wasn’t really surprised given who she was, murder was a daily occurence for her. But this wasn’t just the murder of some random person, or someone else in the criminal underworld.

“I’m...I’m sorry. But...you do realise that you just admitted to being an active accomplice in a murder? And that he is the one who committed the crime? You do realise who was murdered right?” Your questions aren’t exactly subtle, but you can’t bring yourself to be polite given the situation and everything that was occuring.

Taeyeon’s eyes narrow, her face stilling in a beautiful visage that was as cold as it was stunning. “Yes, Detective. I’m not stupid. Kim Namjoon, the son of Kim Minhyuk. The mayor of New Seoul. Hoseok did his job efficiently, just as I expected.”

Frowning, you look at Jimin who finally looks as confused as you are. Pursing your lips, you poke at your inner cheek before sighing.

“You do realise that we are police detectives, correct? And that this is the case we’ve been investigating for weeks now. You’ve just admitted that you were both behind the murder. It’s our duty to take you in.” Your words are far bolder than you actually feel but your sworn oath to uphold the laws of New Seoul, no matter how much those laws get broken, propels you to say them.

“I realise that. But you have limited options here. As far as I can see it, your path will follow one of these routes. Firstly, you can attempt to arrest me. That will end up with your death at the hands of Dami and Hoseok. Secondly, you can attempt to kill me and you’ll probably get the same result. Although, I will be dead so there’s that.” She gives a small smirk, counting down on her fingers. “Let me tell you though, I will be mightily fucked off if I have to have your remains scraped from the floor. I can only imagine the cleaning bill in here.”

You’re almost amused by the fact that that is her only worry. But then you remember that it’d be your remains that she’d be peeling off the floor and suddenly it feels a little worse honestly. 

“However, I have no interest in killing either of you tonight. That would just be more of a headache than I can stand right now and I’m already unhappy with the amount of bullshit this has caused. It’s been fun watching the towers freak out over this but I’m over it now. I’ll tell you who ordered the kill on Kim Namjoon. You will not have any further negotiation with us though. We will not testify but we will provide you with the secure contract that was signed. Understandably, it will not lead back to us. Even if everyone knows. But it should be enough for you to fulfil your duty.” She smiles, almost catlike as her eyes narrow in pure amusement.

Eyes widening slightly, you realise that this is all just a fun game to her. A game where lives are mere pawns, worth nothing more than the money they can offer.

“Why would you just tell us? After all this? You’re just going to offer them up like that?” Jimin asks, uncertainty lacing his voice with an equal look of suspicion on his face. It at least makes you feel better that he’s as confused by Taeyeon’s sudden helpfulness as you are.

“Because I’m bored of all this. It’s caused way too much shit already. It was just a contract at first, we didn’t care who it was. They paid upfront and never questioned it again. That was good enough for us. And then suddenly it was all over the news and the police were looking a little too closely because he was the mayor’s son. It’s well known the mayor doesn’t care for us. So, I want it over. Give them another scapegoat. We were just the weapon used. And now we want this over and done with. So, we will give you the name and everything you need to take the person who actually did it. It’ll be amusing to watch the towers freak out over themselves once more.” She pauses, giving you both an imperious gaze before giving you a smile. It wasn’t a very comforting smile.

“Is that acceptable?” 

“I...we don’t have the authority to approve that. We’d need to go to-” Taeyeon interrupts with a quick gesture of her hand, her expression frozen. Taking Jimin’s arm, you have as close of a mental conversation as is possible with him. His blank expression tells you it’s not working, so you lean forward.

“I don’t think we’re getting out of here unless we say yes.” You murmur to him, lips brushing against his ear. For a moment, you’re taken back to the bedroom, when you’d whispered into his ear something far more delightful and sensual.

“I agree, as much as I wish I didn’t have to. We’ll just...have to argue it out with the chief.” Jimin whispers before sighing, sitting back and looking at Taeyeon with a resigned look.

“Fine. We accept your proposal. Who is the one who ordered the hit on Kim Namjoon?”

-

Standing in the familiar senior break room, you cross your arms as you poke your tongue into your cheek and look over the vending machine here. Brows rising, you note that it’s got real coffee in it and you automatically press for it, anticipation for the delicious drink already bubbling in your stomach.

The presence of Jimin behind you is familiar as he looks as well, inputting his own choice for a herbal green tea and you raise your brows at him in amused surprise. “That’s a rather healthy choice for you, no energy drink?”

“Not today. I’m going to go home once we’ve done this and sleep for the entire evening and night. It’s gonna be fucking great. I can’t wait.” Nodding, you smiled along with him as you both took your drinks over to the couch you’d decided on. The room was empty, as per usual, and you hummed in delight at the taste of the rich coffee.

“Man, they get spoiled in here. They don’t deserve this.” Muttering, you gesture towards the coffee and smirk when Jimin leans over to take a sip. He lets it stay in his mouth for a moment, savouring the taste before nodding in agreement.

Before you can both say anything else though, the door opens and you both watch as the person you’d asked to visit the station walks through. Smiling at him, you stand and offer out your hand for him to shake as he gives you a tired smile in response.

“Would you like a drink?” You offer, gesturing to the machine and he shakes in his head in response, lifting up a hand of gratitude at your offer. As expected from a tower, after all. “Please, sit. Thank you for coming into the station for us again.”

“Of course, it’s the least I could do.” His smile is sad and you look at the shadows under his eyes, frowning slightly. Tapping your band, you set up the interview process once more before gesturing for Jimin to begin.

“We’ve thankfully had a break in the case, which I’m sure you’re happy to hear.” The man straightens, his face going serious as he rests his elbows on his knees and watches you both closely. A subtle nod lets you know that he’s listening intently. 

“Really? That’s great, what is it? Have you found who did it?” The questions are urgent and you lean back slightly, holding the cup of coffee in your hand and inhaling slowly, taking in the scent you love so much. It’s a shame that you can only get it in here. Maybe you should try sneaking in more often.

“We have actually. A contract killing, as we expected from the initial crime scene and interview. Kim Namjoon was killed by a Mr Jung Hoseok, under contract with the White Tiger Clan.” His eyes widen at that, alarm evident in them as the name filters through to his head. You’re not surprised, they are one of the most famous Clan’s in the city.

“The White Tiger Clan? Why would they want him dead?” Brow furrowing, you marvel for a moment at how well he disguises it. If you hadn’t seen the proof already, you would have never suspected a thing about it all.

“They didn’t want him dead at all. In fact, we had a talk with them. They told us everything we need to know. Turns out they don’t quite care for being used as pawns in a political game.” Your tone is much colder now, eyes narrowing and you can tell he can sense the change in you.

That caring look in his eyes, the tiredness and sorrow is quickly vanishing. You’re surprised by how much scarier he is than any of the White Tiger Clan.

“So, care to tell us why you ordered the hit on Kim Namjoon? We can’t quite figure that part of it out, but maybe we’re just not wired that way mentally. What did he do to upset you so much, Mr Kim?” Jimin asks, tapping his finger to his lip while his brows rise in a question.

Kim Seokjin sits there for a moment, his eyes flickering between you both before the facade drops immediately. Any sense of emotion vanishes from his eyes and you shiver internally, realising you’re staring at the true face of him. The fact of a man who paid to have his best friend murdered, and then made sure to be at the scene of the crime to make sure he couldn’t be implicated.

It turned your stomach.

His perfect, pouty lips twist into a sneer that’s quite unbecoming for him and he sits back on the couch, crossing his arms over his broad chest. There’s silence in the room for a few moments and he looks around before shrugging, almost petulantly.

“I thought the contract was meant to be private. Secret, whatever the fuck they call it. I paid enough for it.” He snaps, unhappiness evident in his body language and you marvel at the difference in him. Jimin licks his lips before shrugging himself, pressing his band before bringing up the contract that Seokjin had signed, complete with his own unique signature. 

“They’re a criminal Clan, they can change the rules as they want. They’re not exactly famed for being honest, upstanding citizens,” Your partner points out, watching as Seokjin’s face goes stony at the sight of the contract. “They knew objectively that Kim Namjoon was the mayor’s son, but they didn’t realise the heat it was going to put on them. Or the way the city was mourning. So they wanted out, and they offered up the person who ordered it all.” 

That gets a scoff from your unhappy culprit, but he doesn’t argue back. He’s smart, he’s being educated at some of the best places in the world and has the benefit of gene improvements to further increase his intelligence. He can tell a losing battle when he sees one, and evidently he realises this is it.

“Fine, yeah. I did it. I ordered the hit on Namjoon. Organised it so that I’d give them the signal that they could follow to find us so that I’d be there when the hit went down. Hard to be accused of being the murderer if I’m right there, correct?” He smirks and your eyes narrow slightly, dislike seeping into every bone in your body.

“But why? Why do it? He was your best friend. He was like a brother to you according to everything we’ve heard?” The questions you ask are deep and imploring, giving away the confusion you feel towards Seokjin’s callous nature. His cold gaze turns to you, and you realise that you wouldn’t want to be on his friend list.

“He was my best friend. But he was also in my way. His dad was grooming him to be the mayor, and he’d have won. Namjoon would’ve been a fucking useless mayor. He was more interested in waxing poetic about stupid philosophical bullshit gave a fuck about or coming up with ways to improve the environment. The man was obsessed with trees and all that shit. Putting him in charge of one of the most important cities in the world was a fucking joke. I wanted the mayorship, and I knew that if Namjoon was gone then I could run in his place. In his ‘memory’,” He makes air quotation marks with his fingers then. “And people would vote for me. The poor man who watched his best friend get murdered in front of him. His dad would have supported me and I’d have got it. I’d have made a great mayor.”

He sounds almost annoyed that his plan had been foiled and you almost want to laugh at how cartoonish it all seems. His big, grand plan being upturned by the very people he’d paid thousands and thousands of credits to in order to take out his competition. It was irony at its best.

And you’re both stunned to realise his reasons were so...banal. Frowning, you flick your eyes to Jimin to see the same look of both confusion and condescension on his own face.

“If you wanted it that badly, why didn’t you just ask? From everything we’ve been told about him...it sounds like Namjoon would’ve given up and supported you. He didn’t exactly sound like leadership material, and I think he might have put his full weight behind you.” That gets you another eye roll from Seokjin, along with the scoff that only towers can truly pull off.

“Please. Namjoon would do anything his father told him to do. He idolised the idiot. Even though half the city hated him. I loved Namjoon, but I wanted this more. And it would’ve all succeeded if it had gone to plan. I had it all set up. You couldn’t possibly go after the White Tiger Clan because of who they were, but you couldn’t not as well. The best option was that you got killed, the lesser option was that you just get fired. Either way, the case goes cold. But no, the fucking criminals had to have a heart.” He snorts, disgruntlement written all over him.

Lips pursing, you narrow your eyes at the sorry excuse for a man. You’ve had enough of this and he’d admitted to it, so you didn’t need to interview him anymore. At least, not today. The prosecutor could have the fun of dealing with waste of air.

Standing, you try your hardest not to glare at him as you move around to his side. “Kim Seokjin, please stand. You are under the arrest for conspiracy to commit murder and the murder of Kim Namjoon. You have the right to…” You go through the rights as usual, forcing him to stand upright as you snap the laser cuffs to his wrist. A slight hiss at the discomfort comes from him but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Leading him to the door, you present him to the waiting officer and narrow your eyes. “I hope you get hit with every conviction they can possibly hit you with. You used your friendship, the trust Namjoon had in you to get him killed. For something stupid and trivial. He deserved more than that. He deserved more than you.”

Seokjin doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes as he’s led away to the jail that’s located in the basement of the building. You’ll see him again when he’s a trial, but for now, you’d be happy if you never saw his face again.

Closing the door behind you, you lean against it momentarily before letting out a deep breath. Jimin stands before you, far closer than a partner should officially stand but you can’t bring yourself to care right now. Giving him a weak smile, you raised your fist in mock excitement.

“Yay. We did it! Without dying or getting fired.” He snorts in amusement, augmented hand lifting up to trail along your cheek slowly. You know that he can tell you’re disturbed by what you’d just heard and you let yourself lean into his touch, needing the human contact with someone who cares.

“You okay?” Sighing, you flop your head back before shaking it. Neither of you saying anything for a moment before exiting the room and heading towards your own desks, one floor higher. Pursing your lips as you go, you stare down at the floor before letting out a noise of disgust.

“You know, I don’t get the mentality behind it. Behind any of them! I mean, Taeyeon I actually kind of understand. She’s a criminal, she runs a criminal organisation. Being cruel and hard is part of her thing. If you’re friends with her, you know full well that there’s every chance she’ll kill you in the future for a job opportunity. She’s open about herself. But him? He fucking cried at the interview with us. He cried at the funeral, consoled Namjoon’s father in his arms and gave a fucking speech about how much he cared for Namjoon. When he was the one who paid to get him killed. I just...I don’t know.” You trail off, feeling confused and more than a little angry at humanity as a whole.

Jimin pauses, grasping your arm lightly and simply pulling you into a hug. The hallway is empty and you let him do so, relaxing into his embrace as your eyes close and you try to push the frustration away. 

“Hey, don’t let it get to you okay? We see all sorts in this job and this is just one aspect of it. Don’t let him get to you. We did it. We got it done and hopefully, we’ll never have to see him again except at the trial. He’s gonna go where he belongs, and as a tower he probably thinks he’ll get off light. But he’s got another thing coming, especially when Namjoon’s father finds out.” That makes you laugh lightly, knowing that the tower community will come down on Seokjin like a hammer.

It was probably why he gave up so easily. Because he knew that he couldn’t get out of it. But still.

Pulling away from Jimin, you rub at your temple tiredly before smiling in thanks at him. “True. Maybe now we can both go have that well deserved sleep.”

He goes to say something but the beeping of your bands interrupts you, the message showing that you’d both been called to another homicide in the city. Letting out a deep groan, your shoulders slump as Jimin laughs.

“Maybe later. For now though, let’s go do our jobs. And hope this one has nothing to do with the Clan.” Smiling, you let him pull you along the hallway back to the elevator. In a city like New Seoul, a detective’s work is never really done and you’re just thankful that you’d managed to solve this one.

Glancing over at Jimin as he presses the button for the garage, you bite your lip before exhaling deeply. At least this time, you’ve gained something new out of the mess this case had been. Not quite what you were hoping for, but more than you had.

[pollylynn]

Title: Reproach WC: 1100 Episode: Dreamworld (6 x 02)

She is, in every way, a better person than he is. Oh, she is not without her flaws—and for going on six years, it has been his duty to tease those out, to tempt her to listen not to her better angels, but to her her way-more-fun devils. It has been his honor and his privilege to coax one eye open when she has them scrunched closed so that she can see that the personal failing that has her so tied in knots is simply the tiniest imperfection that exists solely for the purpose for throwing the glorious rest of her into sharper relief. It has been his greatest calling to bluster and preen and feign jealousy and an utterly wrongheaded sense of superiority that they both know is a joke, because she is so obviously and entirely a better person than he is in every way. 

Except right now, he thinks she might be a better person than he is in every way except one, because he, unlike her, has regrets now that he’s dying. He as a lot of regrets, and that seems like the right move as the hours of his life potentially tick away. It seems like a litany of regrets is a far more rational response than some zen nonsense about good runs and all that come to peace with it nonsense that surely must have been fatigue addling her brain after hours standing on that bomb. 

He has regrets and regrets have him making lists, making decisions, taking action. In fact, regrets have him adding yet another action item to the list: Call Beckett on her no-regrets bullshit. He adds that way down at the bottom, though, because there’s so much else to do. There are so many other action items.

He regrets that he will not be able to finally unpack her apartment for her. That’s an action item for the top of the list with the name Lanie next to it. And the name Ryan appears next to that a moment later, because honestly, what will Lanie know about organizing a kitchen, other than where best to place the knife block so it’s on hand for all your spur-of-the-moment body-disposal needs. 

He deeply regrets that he will not be around to oversee her caffeination. That one hurts, because he’s fallen down on the job here. He thinks of McCord and the “coffee”-related gesture that only drove the woman’s foot further into her own mouth, because seriously, who would try to make amends with that? He thinks of Kate and how terribly she has been suffering because he couldn’t be bothered to find a way to circumvent government rules about gifts from millionaire fiancés to get an espresso machine into the building. He pencils in Esposito there, because if there’s anyone who can brute force equipment past the feds . . . well, it’s probably not Esposito, but she would likely be able to use him getting tased as a distraction so she could DIY that right into the break room, and failing that, at least get a laugh out it. 

He does pencil Esposito in next to the Deal With Pi action item, then parenthetically ads Call Mother? He feels a genuine surge of warmth for his mother when he recalls the disgust that zipped its way down the line from New York to this disappointing underground lair when the odious jungle interloper tried to call out “helpful” tips about the ACLU. He comes over a little bit misty when he imagines the hideous ends those two diabolical heads will surely devise, and it’s not that he doesn’t trust Kate to take care of it, he’s just worried she’ll come over all soft when she thinks of Alexis suffering yet another loss. 

Alexis

There’s just a name there. There are no action items. It’s too overwhelming to consider, and he even thinks for a moment of striking out the Pi-related action items. He would like to understand Pi. He would like to have the time to throw a tantrum, throw up his hands and declare to the world at large that he will never understand Pi, because Pi, that ambulatory pile of hemp and hair, defies augury. He’d like to have the time to be completely impossible about Pi, but that is not in the cards. 

So little is in the cards, and he regrets that. 

He regrets that he will not get to dandle the impending little Ryan on his knee and school the new father on swaddling and swat diapering. He regrets that he will not be able to buy a literal library of children’s must-haves, then stand back and watch the fun as Kevin and Jenny try to cram it all into the tiny room they have available for the nursery. He wants to be around to see how the Lanie-and-Esposito elopement pool turns out.

“What’s this?” 

She materializes behind him. Maybe not materializes. Maybe she’s been watching all along and maybe it’s the fat that his pen has slowed, it’s slipped from his hand as the idea of someone else’s wedding ambushes him and he’s thinking about his wedding, their wedding, the wedding they won’t have. 

Whether she’s materialized or just arrived, she’s lightning fast and he is . . . not. Already, he’s halfway to his third shot and he is not lightning fast. 

“Kate . . .” He reaches fruitlessly for the crumpled sheet of paper. 

“What is this?” She shakes it at him. She’s furious. 

“Regrets.” He hangs his head. He’s not a better person than she is, even in this small way. “Kate, I can’t help it, I have them.” 

“Can’t help it?” Confusion makes inroads against the fury. “What the hell are you talking about?” “You. No regrets,” he’s mumbling. He’s embarrassed and defensive. He doesn’t want to fight. He doesn’t want her to be mad. He doesn’t want to waste a second, but the sullen words come anyway. “I know you said you didn’t have any, but I do.” 

“Are you stupid?” She balls up the list. She throws it who knows where. She drops to her knees and wraps her arms awkwardly around him. “It’s just something you say. Something stupid you say.” 

“Oh,” he murmurs against her shoulder. “Guess I’m not stupid, then.” He presses his cheek into the softness of her neck. “Beckett, am I less stupid than you?” 

“Hardly.” She manages something that’s a laugh, something that’s a strangled cry. “You’re stupider, Castle. You’re way, way stupider.” 

He knows she’s right. She’s always right. 

A/N: Regrets should have all the morphousness of dark matter, and yet . . . 

images via kissthemgoodbye

[purplelurkinghini]

Narcissus by the Pond

0. PROLOGUE 

Under the cut is the prologue to yet another multi-chapter mess I am planning to write. What is different about this one is the narrator: Edward Nygma himself. Another aspect of this piece that sets it apart from the rest of my writing is its epistolary form. That’s right, baby! First-person POV!

If you’ve seen >> this << post floating around, this is indeed me actually putting that second prompt to use. 

Enjoy!

Dear ▚▛▙▙

I found a cat toy while cleaning out my closet today. It was that ashy plush mouse stuffed with dried nepeta cataria which you spent money on instead of saving up for your student loans. If he were still here, he’d be rolling around on the floor in some vivid dream in which he was a lion and it was a gazelle. And, if you were still here, I would’ve asked you to stay.

The day you got that tabby’s claws into me was the day you checked into work late. Frank, our project manager and your internship supervisor, had to drop his showman act and instill in you the fear all WayneTech employees are motivated by. After you offered your excuses and exchanged glances with the floor, you were free to enter the kitchen to heat up the coffees that you went out of your way to fetch for us each morning.  

My daily routine, which you’ve played no small role in forming during your short stay with us, was disrupted by the absence of caffeine in my bloodstream. I remember my Rubik’s cube and how I crammed a corner into my palm, squeezing down on the still unscrambled sides. I would call it an ‘absentminded’ action, but we both know that would be an incorrect assessment. My mind is never not present, even as it wanders. For this reason, when you finally came out of the kitchen, I couldn’t not wonder what happened to your sweatshirt. It must’ve been soaked in rainwater, I concluded, and that was the reason you removed it. Or, rather, that was the excuse you used as you removed it. After all, your sneakers were soggy, but you couldn't exactly walk barefoot all over a corporate. Even so, there you were, in a far too small t-shirt which was too tight around your torso and too short to cover your stomach, walking around the office with your brewed bribes. 

“Here you go, Jim” you placed the foam cup right in front of his face to get him to notice you. I’d argue that that slip of skin that was eye level to him was enough to get that scatterbrain's attention. He must’ve made a joke, or attempted to, because you laughed louder than anyone should around him. 

“Cory,” you sauntered over to him. “I asked the barista for two tablespoons and a half this time.” Sure, he might’ve taken his glasses off before taste-testing it, but his lenses were fogged-up before the lid came off. You felt the most confidence around Cory, the least confident one in our team. While no line of code was too complex for him, women were a mystery he had yet to solve. You see, I haven’t failed to notice you making the most physical contact with him, brushing your hand against his as a means of disarming him. 

After he served you a stuttered smile, you moved on to Paul who was pretending to be preoccupied with his screen. He’d been watching you since you walked out of the kitchen, yet still acted surprised when you showed up next to him. You didn’t mean to disturb him, of course, so you tip-toed around his desk, silently setting the cup on a coaster. He thanked you without taking his eyes off of his work, but took the time to watch you walk away as soon as you turned away from him. 

"I'm sorry, Ed," you pouted as you placed the coffee on top of a stack of papers. "I know like to have your coffee before 8, but the storm hit while I was in the shop and the whole street took cover in there-"

"Slow down," I released the Rubik’s cube, flexing my fingers. "I'm not your supervisor. It’s not my forgiveness you need."

"Well, no, but I actually want your forgiveness," you covered your mouth in a coquettish display. "I mean-"

“Like I said,” I brush off the blush creeping up on my cheeks. "There's no use for that." Fetching the foam cup, I take a sip of the scolding beverage and brave through it. “There's no use to ask the barista to write our full names either. This calligraphy exercise cost you a scolding from Frank.”

“Actually,” you pulled the hem of your shirt down which only uncovered more of your cleavage instead of hiding your stomach. “I wrote your name myself.”

I stroked the surface of the cup right across the script. Again, I can’t call this action ‘absentminded’ either, but my mind had wandered off again. That lovely lettering was yours and so was the green marker, so you must’ve scavenged your backpack for it on a crowded morning train. You also must’ve taken your time steadying your hand for each stroke, each dot. E. Nygma. You also must’ve cleaned up the cup as it inevitably spilled and steadied your tongue for each stroke, each lick. Maybe you ever sampled the coffee yourself, the taste of cherry Chapstick staining the rim.

“Well,” you interrupted my intrusive thoughts. “Jim’s showing me the new user interface, so-”

“Of course,” I dismissed you and my daydreams.

“Talk to you later.”

Yes, that was the day the cat got his claws into me. It was after I’d drained the drink, and found myself restless still, that I made my way into the kitchen for another one. That is when I spotted you in the corner, cradling the sweatshirt you discarded earlier. At the sound of my steps, you straightened your back, but you didn’t turn your torso towards me. 

“Hey, Ed,” you smiled and it was a painful sight because I couldn’t ignore the panic I ignited in your eyes. “Lunchtime already?”

“What are you doing?”

“Umm, trying to dry my shirt?”

The closer I got, the more gregarious you grew. You asked about what I’d like to eat, what the guys would like to eat, if I’d like to order out. You didn’t stop until I asked it of you. 

“What are you hiding from me?”

Before you could bellow out something long enough to cover the sound, I heard it.

“Did your hoodie just meow?”

It was only then that you turned, facing me fully. “Please don’t tell Frank, but this is the reason I was running late.” Two pairs of eyes were pleading with me. One belonged to you and they were begging. The other belonged to an orange ball of fur and they were unblinking. 

You were holding a bottle cap filled with water up to its meowing maw, so you must’ve been attempting to keep the animal hydrated, even after rescuing it from the streets in the middle of a storm. You bought kitten kibbles on your way to WayneTech and that had eaten ten minutes of your time and cost you a scolding from Frank.

“I couldn’t just leave Eddie to drown in a ditch somewhere.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah,” you let it sink its little teeth into your skin as it held a single finger close with two whole paws. They feel like needles, I should know, but you carried on cooing the pincushion. “He reminds me of another green-eyed ginger. Maybe you know him.”

Yes, you remember now, don’t you? That was the moment Eddie sunk his claws into me, and I do mean it literally. He released your finger only to get his paws trapped into my button-up. I also mean it figuratively, as I swore to keep your secret the very next second. And, once you were by my side, shadowing me as I was coding like you wanted to since your first day of internship, you made me swear to keep him. How could I not? Your dorm had a ‘no pets’ policy and you had named him after me. 

The two of us had time to get acquainted after you left for your evening classes. I fed him the kibbles and was careful not to get caught. And, because I wouldn't be using it that day anyway, I replaced your sweatshirt with my gym towel. While it smelled like a sad, soaked kitten, whatever fruity fragrance you were using had yet to fade from the fabric. That evening I drove straight home as soon as I left WayneTech, skipping my daily workout. My daily routine, as I’ve mentioned, had been modified by you. 

“We don't even need to potty train him,” you giggled when you saw Eddie digging through the brand new litter box I had ordered. It had been waiting for me by the front entrance along with the delivery guy and yourself.

You got into a cab before even texting me, asking for an address only after the driver started the clock. I expected that stupid stunt from the likes of Jim, not you. 

“He's a clever boy,” I smiled when I saw you were still wearing the green button-up shirt I asked you to exchange that shrunken t-shirt of yours with. “Like his namesake.”

You kneeled before the kitten and produced the plush mouse I'd only seen Eddie play with once. “Did the shampoo arrive? He should be high enough to not scratch our eyes out now.”

After rolling around on the rug with a bag full of catnip, he seemed blissed out enough for a bath. And, after only scratching you twice as you held him for me to scrub his ginger fur ever so gently, we got him all dried and drained. Those green eyes were barely opened as he looked up at us from the cat bed he was supposed to grow into and the sweatshirt he had grown fond of. 

“Now we know he hates all water,” you said through gritted teeth as I sanitized your shaking hands. Your fingers were as fidgety as Cory's, yet I doubt his skin was ever that soft. “Not just the rain.”

“I bet he'd hate flees more,” I caressed your knuckles after bandaging the bloody bits.

“I hate the rain, too,” your eyes were downcast, much like earlier that morning, seemingly searching my sheets for something. “I never knew Frank could be so-”

“Terrifying?”

“Mean,” your giggle wasn't as gleeful as I'd grown used to. “I thought he was going to fire me right then and there.”

“He wouldn't,” I squeezed down on the shadows of your hands as they were snatched away from me. Then, I leaned in close and almost brushed your love with my lips as they moved: “He will let the anxiety that comes with that uncertainty eat you alive first.”

“See, now you're being mean,” you laughed, finally looking up at me. 

“Me? Never,” I said, satisfied with myself. You were laughing - actually laughing - because of me. 

When the dryer dinged, I was confident in leaving you in my bedroom with a smile on your face. After all, I was the one who brought you in there and I was the one who brought that out of you. Once I've collected your clothes, I returned to find you had already removed my button-up and was drying up the rest of your skin with one of my towels. You were turned only half the way, so you must've perceived me in your periphery. Paul pulled the same thing earlier today. Still, you sounded surprised as you covered the side of your breasts I bet you wanted me to see. 

"Forgive me,” I turned around, but, unlike you, I did it all the way. “Here you are,” I stretched my arm behind me to hand you the bra and t-shirt. 

“Thank you.” It was only after your bomber jacket was zipped to your chin that I dared to look at you directly. Your sweatshirt was Eddie's now, so you covered up with what you had. “For everything.”

“Let me drive you to your dorm.”

"You've already done enough," you pulled out your phone as I walked you to the door. “I'll just call another cab. Eddie needs you here. You need to wear him out, or he'll wear you out tonight.”

“Cats are crepuscular creatures,” I assure you. “Not nocturnal. I'm sure he'll fall asleep before I even turn in for the night.”

Yes, I was sure he'd fall. However, Eddie was so convinced. And, sure enough, there he was, meowing in my face at midnight. 

My mistake was letting him get his claws into me. You see, I couldn't bear waking that little bastard up. Not when he looked so small in the middle of your sweatshirt, in the middle of his bed. He finally had a dry place to dream in and I couldn't take that away from him, so I let him sink his claws into me that much deeper. 

And yours, as well.

After chasing him with my hand atop of my covers and letting him swat at the finger-spider, he was ready for bed. My bed. Yes, his green eyes were drooping when he surrendered to sleep. It just so happened that he did it on the left side of my bed. And I, not willing to risk another rude awakening, placed him atop of the pillow. Then, ever so silently, I slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. It was on my way back that I stumbled upon it: your sweatshirt. 

I recall calling it off the floor and taking it with me to bed. For Eddie, of course. He loved that sweatshirt, as I'm sure you know. However, as I placed it on his pillow, I caught a whiff of it. It smelled like rainwater, pet shampoo, Eddie, and you. It was your sweat and deodorant, sweet and soapy, just as I had smelled it on my shirt before tossing it in the laundry basket and I couldn't smell it on the left side of my bed. 

As I closed my eyes, I saw you. You were walking around the office, their wandering eyes watching you. You pass my desk and I am drenched in your scent. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Your sweatshirt is drenched, so you discard it. Your t-shirt is too tight, so I can see the dip of your belly button and the swell of your breasts. Though I am convinced you had a bra to cover them, my mind wanders. It wanders about the color of your nipples and it paints a picture of them peeking through the flimsy fabric. 

And, as my mind wanders further, that flimsy fabric is pulled down, your hands wriggling at the hem of it. That's when those peeks pop out along with the rest. All of a sudden, you're soaking. Sweet. Soapy. You even try to hide this from me, crossing your arms over your chest. I capture your hands, soft skin, and fidgeting fingers, and wrestle with them. Oh, how easily you surrendered to me, sighing in defeat. I lock your arms behind your back with one hand and squeeze your tit like a stress toy. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I had to taste it. 

When my tongue touched the tip, you pushed against it, filling my mouth with your flesh. You wanted this. That nipple is as sharp as a needle, but it melts in the heat of my mouth. You wanted this. After your tit is slick with my saliva and the peak is all puffy, I gather the other one in my grip and repeat. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

You wanted this and you told me as much. You said it loud enough for the others to hear. You wanted this. You wanted me. And, as if I haven't done enough, as if I haven't given you enough, I gave you all of me. Clearing the desk, cube, keypad, computer, and all, I slam you atop the surface. I had to pull down your pants for you, but your legs part all on their own. As for your panties, well, they all but dissolved under the duress. You attempt to hide from me again, tightening your thighs together. And, again, you surrender to me all too easily. After all, you want me. Your pussy? As I parted your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest, I saw how much she wanted me. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

However, I was not in a hurry. No matter how hot were your insides and how cold the chills were down my spine, I still took my sweet, soapy, soaking time. I set myself loose, my length slapping against your ass once it sprang free. You shivered, your back arching like a bow and your hands treading through your tangled hair. You wanted me. I took my time, sandwiching my shaft between your pussy lips, sliding across the slick and even wearing your labia as a hood atop its head for a maddening moment. It was only when you began begging, mewling to be mated that I gave myself to you. I crammed my cock inside of your cunt and went in so deep, I felt your heartbeat as your inner walls collapsed around me. 

Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I fucked you into a fever, your skin as slick as your insides and your mouth leaking as much saliva as your pussy was spilling precum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Soon, it would've been spilling cum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. When I did come, however, it was in my fist and not between your lips. 

As I opened my eyes, you disappeared. There was nothing there to greet me but the strike of the street lights slashing the darkness across the ceiling. Your sweetness had been replaced with my saltiness. It was indeed soapy and soaking, but it wasn’t you. Then, for the second time that night, I slipped out of bed and snuck into the bathroom.

The day you got cat’s claws into my shirt was the day you sunk your own under my skin. After that day, we shared a secret. I never told Frank about Eddie, but Eddie never told you about what I did in the dark. His glowing green eyes didn’t judge me, but they never let me forget. After you left without a notice, ginning up your internship, changing your phone number and never surrendering your real name, I couldn’t face them anymore. His eyes never let me forget, so I rehomed him.

I found your Gotham U sweatshirt while cleaning out my closet today. The name you gave WayneTech is nowhere to be found in their student records. Your name can’t be found in any police records either. Your real name, however, I am sure will uncover quite the mystery.

Yours,

E. NYGMA 

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Part 10

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt 71 “Dont be stubborn. Try it.”

Word Count: 1890

Pairing: Liam and Riley

Thanks @burnsoslow​ for beta reading and pretty much having to drag me across the finish line, as well as all the weeks and weeks of listening to me whine and pity myself.  And @emkay512​ for pre-reading and your encouraging words late Monday that made my whole night.

a/n: this is crack, plain and simple. I haven’t written since mid-october; just been paralyzed with fear over my own writing and this is my practice run and basically the best I could come up with. I’m going to try so so hard to finish this series

The new royal couple, fresh off their Vegas flight, stepped up to a makeshift podium the press had created on the tarmac. It was packed tightly with news station microphones crammed in every nook and cranny, one on top of the other. Voice recorders were spread across its surface, and the crown's private jet served as the backdrop. A bevy of frenzied reporters -- domestic and international -- pushed and elbowed their way into one another in hopes of getting the closest shot of the newlyweds and a chance to have their questions answered first.

“King Liam! Is the marriage binding?”

“How long have you known, Miss Brooks?”

“Were you trying to make a political statement by having a hooker at the ceremony?”

“Your Majesty! Will the monkey be joining your court soon?”

So many questions, most followed by laughter and snickers directed at the King and his bride.

Liam frowned as his eyes dashed side to side in a diligent effort to understand the literally thousands of questions that were lobbed at him all at once. He blinked rapidly as one flash of a camera after the next blinded and bleached his vision. Just as it would return to normal, another successive set of flashes would set him back again.

He had been a part of news conferences since he was a child, when he would watch his late father speak from different parts of the world, near and far, about this policy or that deal. Yet this was different. This was not only the biggest breaking story in Cordonia -- or even Europe -- but one that had swept the world. 

His drunken actions two nights ago, no doubt, would have created a stir; however, it was Maxwell's post on Instagram of the ceremony that now made him tabloid fodder. Everyone knew about the king who was married by his own brother and an Elvis impersonator, the leg-humping monkey that served as a ring bearer, and the chain-smoking, tube-top-wearing prostitute who was the maid of honor. As confident as Liam had been that he could handle this, as he'd dealt with so many other stories of intrigue regarding the monarchy, he couldn't dispel the twisting feeling that burrowed deep into the pit of his stomach.

Maybe Madeleine was right: he had become a laughingstock. A failure. Just one big fuck up.

As much as he hated to hear the things said about him, he could deal with it. In the morning, he would call Prince Harry to swap stories, survival tips, and perhaps share a good laugh about it.

It was just ...

Liam felt Riley's tiny hand grip his a little tighter. He wouldn't blame her one bit if his little pussycat turned around and headed back up the steps to the jet and returned to Las Vegas. The only thing Liam wanted to do was keep her shielded from the hurtful comments and insensitive questions. But to his astonishment, she stood there with all the feigned confidence in the world, flashing a big, beaming smile that lit his heart on fire, while staring back at him affectionately. She was handling the situation better than she was before they stepped off the plane. He knew she was doing it for him. God, she just makes everything better. 

Feeling a little more grounded and in control, Liam returned her smile. A touch of radiance sparkled between his eyes and hers, as if it were some sort of unspoken conversation only they understood. Riley knew exactly what he needed at that moment to rise above this scandal they were both being raked over the coals for: He needed her to be okay.

Raising his free hand to calm the crowd so that he might address their concerns, he noticed the press' attention and cameras suddenly shift away from him and into the distance. Murmurs and chatter soon erupted. Naturally, Liam's gaze followed suit -- towards a group of heavily-armed soldiers heading their way. They wore white hazmat uniforms and had self-contained breathing apparatus and personal protective equipment. Leading the charge was a well-dressed gentleman in a three-piece suit with a shiny bald head that glistened with heavy perspiration. 

He walked like he hadn't shit in weeks.

Liam squinted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. “The hell is that?”

Riley inched closer to Liam and clasped his suit jacket. "What's happening right now? Who are all those people, Liam?"

Liam's forehead creased in puzzlement; he didn't know. Wrapping his arms protectively around Riley, he pulled her even closer but never answered the question. It wasn't until the uniformed men stopped briefly and pointed to Drake, who was standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the stairs, that it suddenly became clear who they were looking for.

Reporters and onlookers had been so focused on Liam’s return with the American woman, they hadn’t noticed that the brooding Walker had exited the jet last among their posse. Just as everyone had watched replays and snippets of Maxwell’s Instagram video, they were also fully aware the King’s best friend wasn’t exactly returning to Cordonia … healthy … thanks to Maxwell’s Tik Tok sing-along. 

A video Drake Walker had no clue existed. 

 The crowd began to disperse in fear and panic. If men in hazmat suits were needed, they could only assume this went well beyond your casual, run-of-the-mill STD.

Still in no mood to play around, Drake started yelling obscenities and gradually backing away from the hazmat brigade that was closing in on him like a cheetah at a water buffalo hole. 

"Mr. Walker," a heavily echoed voice called out, sounding oddly reminiscent of Darth Vader through their breathing contraption, "we need you to come with us."

"The fuck I do." Drake shook his head emphatically while continuing to slide away from them. "I'll beat the shit out of all of ya if you so much as touch me."

"Now, Mr. Walker, don't be stubborn. Try it, and you'll find yourself with a nice little tranquilizer to the ass. Are you going to come with us willingly, or do we have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?"

Drake stood motionless in disbelief. "I don't even know what you guys want or what you think I did," he squawked with a hint of desperation in his tone.

"Tough titties. SEIZE HIM!"

With that order, Drake twisted on the heels of his boots and took off, dodging and weaving away from a bunch of men he had no clue why were even after him. 

He had a pretty good hunch, though, who set this chain of events in motion.

The bald guy in a three-piece suit walked up to Liam and flipped his badge open. "Your Majesty?"

Liam nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the man's credentials. "I am. What is the meaning of all this? What the hell are you doing with Drake?"

"Sir, if you will, it has come to our attention that Mr. Walker is a public health risk and highly contagious. We will have to secure him into our custody at once."

Liam scrunched up his face in utter confusion and stared back at the official before responding, “He just has case of crabs, syphilis, herpes, genital warts, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. You’re treating him like he’s about to start some damn worldwide pandemic. Without sexual contact and with heavy doses of medications and creams, Drake should be able to live a normal life like anyone else. So, as the ruler of this country, I am ordering your men to stand down at once.”

“My apologies, King Liam, but my orders come from the World Health Organization and the United Nations. You'll need to take this up with them. Dr. Wolfschitz was clear on the protocol."

"Dr. Wolfschitz?" Liam questioned as realization quickly set in. He twisted around to face Leo, who had this enormous shit-eating grin, the likes he'd never seen on him before. "You? You did this?"

“Walker messed with the wrong bull, little bro.” Leo stuck up his pointer fingers on both sides of his head with a menacing scowl and smugness in his tone. “Now he gets the horns.”

Liam swatted away one of Leo's finger horns. “This is serious, Leo. Not everything is a joke! You're going to fix this, NOW!"

Leo placed a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, patting it a few times before speaking softly to him. “Look, I know you’re upset right now. You two were very close. But the Drakester is going to a far better place. There’s a big open field and everything where he can run and play all day with others just like him. And all the meaty bones he can eat too … lucky bastard.”

Riley had to bury her face in Liam’s chest to prevent the laugh that threatened to escape, but the bobbing of her shoulders was something she couldn’t hide. 

“NOW, Leo!” 

Leo tried to hold his ground but was too weak to resist the impatient glare Liam was burning into his soul. After a brief moment, he rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Why ya gotta be such a dillhole, Liam? Do you realize you get rattled faster than a two-tit turtle on a tightrope? It's really not your best quality, little brother, but we can work on that." Annoyed, Liam rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned as his brother continued, "Either way, Father always said, ‘if you can't help your fellow man out, you might as well become one of the Walkers.’ Truer words were never spoken so eloquently.”  Leo raised his eyes to the heavens thoughtfully before thinking better of it and lowered them toward the ground. "May you rest in peace, Father," he shouted.

As Leo trotted off to speak with Bald Dude to confess his false claim, Bastien helped guide Liam and Riley through the rambunctious swarm of reporters and spectators. Once they reached the limo, Liam helped Riley inside as Maxwell rounded the vehicle and climbed in on the other side. Pausing for a moment before sliding in, the King placed his hands on top of the open door of the limo and turned one last time to check on his friend. He swallowed hard over the guilt of leaving him behind. As His Majesty watched in horror, Drake took a tranquilizer dart to the back of the thigh and Bastien insisted the area was a security threat, shoving him inside. They would send another car to transport Drake and Leo back to the palace. 

Bastien stomped on the gas pedal and sped off, kicking up dirt and smoke as the tires peeled and squealed against the fiery Cordonian asphalt.

When they passed through the airport's security gate, a small motorcade following closely behind, Liam finally lifted his head, his eyes growing wide when he realized what just happened: Bastien's shove had sent Liam flying across the seat to land face-first into a lap — her lap. 

He stayed frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but the two slender, bronzed legs peeking out below the hem of his new wife's dress. 

Riley lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin dangling from her plush pink lips. "Something you wanna say, Your Majesty?"

Everything that had just happened in the 15 minutes since they landed was long forgotten. Drake who? Liam glanced up with a devilish smirk. "Welcome to Cordonia, Pussycat."

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink

@liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography

@txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09

Liam x MC only: Cordonia-gothqueen

Anything with Drake: @tinkie1973

FRI Series Tags:  @sanchita012 ​  @narrytheworld ​  @queenwalton   @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess   @liamandneca @emkay512 @waywardromancefantasygirl @nomadics-stuff @queendianaofcordonia @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @kat-tia801 @drrookie @sfb123

[workofthediesel]

Something with marcia + sarah being friends/Literally Just Nice To Each Other For Once (or smth angsty w marcia,, maybe both) combined

fic requests are open! send me an ask!

Sarah sat in her sitting room, her hands clenched awkwardly in her lap. She was used to having people over for tea—back when the kids were still kids, Sally Mullin would be over once a week for a cup and some gossip, and even now they kept up the tradition, moving from her cluttered room in the Ramblings to her equally cluttered sitting room in the Palace. But it wasn;t the familiar and friendly Sally sat across from Sarah now; it was none other than Madam Marcia Overstrand.

Marcia was perched on the edge of the sofa, looking every bit as uncomfortable as Sarah was. She was holding one of Sarah’s old mugs in her hands--like everything in the sitting room, the mug was something the Heaps had brought with them from their old life in the Ramblings. It was old and chipped, but Sarah was too sentimental to let it go.

Silence was thick between them, neither one of them knowing what to say. They were only here on Septimus’s request. After he’d heard about the disaster that had led to Sarah getting trapped in the Palace in the middle of the Darke Domaine, he had insisted they learn how to at least be civil to each other. He didn’t want his own family--and here he’d hurriedly added “and Marcia,” almost as if he was correcting himself--constantly at odds with each other.

Sarah had been indignant at first. The argument had had nothing to do with her. It was all Macia’s fault for barging in and barking orders without explaining anything. But Septimus quickly shot her down, telling her that Marcia had been trying to explain, and that while Marcia may have to learn how to talk to people better, Sarah had to learn how to listen. Sarah didn’t have a come back for that and she shut her mouth, listening in stunned silence as Septimus told her that Marcia would be over for tea the next afternoon and he expected them to both at least try to get along.

So here they were now, crammed into Sarah’s tiny sitting room, waiting until Marcia finished her tea so she could leave. They’d tell Septimus that the afternoon was a success and then they’d never have to do it again.

A loud quack from behind the couch shattered the silence in the room. Ethel waddled out from where she’d been napping and made a beeline for Sarah’s feet. Without a moment’s hesitation, Sarah scooped her up and pulled her into her lap, wrapping her arms around her.

“I see that duck is still as enamored with you as ever,” Marcia said. They were the first words either of them had spoken since she’d arrived.

“Her name is Ethel,” Sarah told her snappily.

“Right, Ethel. Of course,” Marcia said. “I remember that now.” The silence resumed for a few moments, and Sarah hoped that that meant it would be the end of the conversation, but Marcia continued, “Did you make that coat for her yourself?”

“Of course I did!” Sarah said, arranging Ethel to be more comfortable in her lap. “The poor dear doesn’t have any feathers, how else is she supposed to keep warm?”

Marcia nodded, taking another moment to choose her words. “It’s very… dedicated of you to take such good care of her.”

“Hmph. Well, someone has to do it. She can’t just be left to fend for herself.”

“Of course not,” Marcia agreed. Sarah suspected that she was thinking that it might have been better off for everyone if Ethel had been left to fend for herself in the Darke Domaine, but she at least had the sense not to mention it. Instead, she changed the subject. “Where’s Silas?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarah said. “Out somewhere looking for those silly game pieces of his.”

“Ah, yes,” Marcia said knowingly. “The Counters.”

“That game has completely taken over his life--and mine, too,” Sarah complained. “It’s all he ever talks about anymore.”

“It’s a rather childish game,” Marcia said. “Fitting, I suppose, that he likes it so much, but I can’t imagine there’s that much to talk about.”

Sarah shook her head. “You’d be wrong about that. Every conversation with him now turns into how he’s wondering where all those pieces slipped off to, how they’re doing, if they’ve gone completely feral or if he might be able to get them back. On top of that, he has all these big plans for creating a Castle Counter-Feet League and hosting all these competitions at the Palace. He’s even been writing books about the wretched thing.”

“Books?” Marcia echoed, sounding shocked.

“Well, pamphlets, I suppose. All about strategies and tips for training and how to build your set. He spends all his spare time working on them. I think he hopes to get them properly published. Even I don’t know how many he’s written.”

There were a few seconds when Marcia didn’t know how to respond. Eventually she settled on, “Well, at least he’s passionate about something.”

“Yes,” Sarah agreed reluctantly, “I suppose it’s better than him sitting around like a lump on a log, but couldn’t he have gotten passionate about something useful? If he’d had this much dedication to his studies years ago, he would have been the ExtraOrdinary Wizard.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sarah bit her tongue. For a second she had forgotten who she was talking to. She was sure Marcia was about to blow up on her, and Septimus would be so disappointed in her for failing him on his plan. She was wondering if she should apologize just to smooth things over--and if that would even work--but Marcia was already talking.

“He didn’t give up his Apprenticeship because he didn’t care about it,” she said. “He gave it up for you. You and the boys.”

“I know he felt bad about spending so much time at work,” Sarah said, “but if he put his mind to it like he does to this game, he could have--”

“No,” Marcia cut her off, shaking her head. “It wasn’t about the time he spent away from home. At least, not entirely. Alther told me that he backed out of his Apprenticeship because he was starting his Darke Week?”

“Darke Week?”

“It’s something unique to ExtraOrdinary Apprenticeships. The ExtraOrdinary Wizard needs to have a much better knowledge of the Darke than Ordinary Wizards do, so during their Apprenticeships, they spend quite a bit of time studying the Darke. It all adds up to a big project with the Apprentice undertaking some Darke task to prove they can responsibly and safely incorporate some of the Darke into their studies. It’s a very big deal in ExtraOrdinary Apprenticeships. Anyway, Alther told me that Silas gave up his Apprenticeship when they got to the lessons about the Darke. At first I thought it was because he was too afraid of the Darke to continue, but Alther told me it was because of you and the boys at home.”

“Me?” Sarah echoed.

Marcia nodded. “He was so worried that something Darke might follow him home, and he didn’t want to risk putting you and the boys in danger.”

“Oh,” Sarah said after a few moments. She didn’t know how else to respond. She’d never held Silas giving up his ExtraOrdinary Apprenticeship against him, but she did privately think that if he had just put in a little more effort, they could have been a lot better off than they were. Not that she was ever unhappy with him in the Ramblings, but life there wasn’t exactly easy with seven kids and just one salary. But knowing that him stepping down from his Apprenticeship wasn’t him being lazy but was a move to keep his family safe…

Marcia was watching her quietly. “Did he really never tell you?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Well, I suppose that makes sense. The Darke Week isn’t really something ExtraOrdinary Apprentices are supposed to talk about.”

“Will Septimus have to do this Darke Week?” Sarah asked nervously.

“He’s already done it. And passed with flying colors, I should add. Not that I ever expected anything different.”

Sarah nodded in agreement. Septimus truly had skill like no other when it came to his Magyk.

They slipped back into silence for a minute before Marcia set her mug down on the table and stood up. “I should be going now,” she said briskly. “Thank you for the tea, Sarah, it was lovely.”

“Of course.” Sarah stood as well to show Marcia to the door. “Thank you for coming, I had a wonderful time as well.” The words were routinely polite, but Sarah was surprised to find that they weren’t entirely untrue.

Marcia carefully picked her way across the sitting room to the door Sarah was holding open for her, watching the floor to make sure she didn’t accidentally step in any of the piles of duck poo that were laying about. When she made it to the safety of the hallway she picked up her usual speed, her cloak billowing out behind her as she made her way down the hall.

Sarah stood watching her from the doorway. Before Marcia could turn the corner and disappear completely, Sarah called out to her on impulse. “Marcia?”

Marcia stopped, turning back to Sarah. The impatient expression Sarah would have expected to see on her face was nowhere to be found.

Sarah felt a little unsure about was she was about to say, but she said it anyway. “Simon’s wedding is coming up. I’m sure you already knew that because Septimus will need the day off to attend, but… It would mean a lot to us if you came as well.”

The shock that initially crossed Marcia’s features was, perhaps, deserved. She and the Heaps had never quite seen eye-to-eye, and it wasn’t a secret that any event of theirs she attended was because of how important she was to Septimus. But the wedding was Simon’s special day, and no one had discussed whether or not to invite Marcia. But Sarah knew that inviting Marcia was the right thing to do. Septimus would want her there, Simon would want her there, and surprisingly, Sarah found out that she wanted her there.

In just a second, Marcia schooled her features back into an impassive mask. “It would be my pleasure,” she said evenly, but Sarah could hear the notes of genuine happiness that were trying to sneak through into her voice.

With that, Marcia turned on her heel and strode off down the hall, fighting to keep a smile at bay. Behind her, in the sitting room, Sarah was doing the same.

[simp-4-kylo]

I need a club Adam! Like where he could be a owner or just a guy who sees you

Driver’s Side 

A/N: First let me say sorry for how late this request is! I really have been working on getting things rolled out :) Literally life has been so busy and I want to write but every time i go to sit down to write I either fall asleep or something comes up :( I do love you all and I PROMISE I am working on all the requests !!! Alright much love to you all. Enjoy the stuff below :)

Warnings: sexual tension, kinda NSFW but no actual smut, possessive!Adam(?), Adam is a club owner but he ended up not being the club owner because i chnaged my mind and rewrote half of it and still am not pleased with it oops ,umm Adam Sackler warning? He is a warning, like for real this man is a whole warning tbh.

Word Count: 1,462

Walking down the streets of New York, he ended up at a warehouse that was booming with music and crammed packed with people. The smell of liquor and smoke filled the air and the loud music had the building pulsating, shaking it right out of the foundation. The air is at least 30 degrees warmer than the air outside the building, and the mixing smells from each person. Adam wasn’t a huge club goer, but he did enjoy them every now and then. This time he made the decision to go clubbing by himself. 

Walking around the building, he kept debating with himself in his head. He wasn’t here to drink, he kept turning each and every shot he was offered. Not wanting to break the promise he made to himself and honestly not liking the taste of alcohol. He knew he looked like the biggest loser in the entire place. How could he not? He was this tall man standing in the middle of a bunch of people jumping up and down, dancing to the beat of the music.

Fuck it, he had decided to call it a night and go home. Maybe he’d run on his way home to burn off some of the pent up energy, or maybe he’d find something on his way home and would start a new project with all of his power tools. As he was heading out, he tossed his red solo cup filled with water on the ground along with other cups and bottles. 

He headed towards the exit of the place, pushing past clumps of people and walking on the sticky floor. Then he saw you, standing towards the entrance. You were glancing down at your phone and then up, looking around the place. It looked like you were looking for someone. He continued to make his way towards the entrance, suddenly he saw two men approach you. He couldn’t hear the conversation going on but he could tell by the look on your face that you were clearly uncomfortable. 

“Hey there you are, this place is massive and I thought I lost you.” Adam said as he approached you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, he had no idea what he was doing and he was praying you would catch on, and that you did. You had leaned into his chest as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You had hoped that he was just being a nice guy and trying to help out, versus being a creep just like the two guys in front of you. “Awe, c'mon man. You don’t mind sharing her for a night? She’s hell of a thing.” one of the two guys leaned forward lightly punching the man who had his arm wrapped around you. You had felt him tense in response to the crude statement.

“Fuck off before I beat the shit out of you.” The man next to you had replied as he caught the man's recoiling arm. The two guys walked away after your saviors response, they were clearly upset that they couldn’t get you to go home with them. It felt like hours as the two of you watched them walk away. It wasn’t until you noticed the next song had started playing, that you were still holding onto the man who had rescued you. “Shit. I don’t even know- Thank you so much for saving me there. I’m not usually someone who just stands there and doesn’t do anything, but I guess I just got scared and wasn’t sure what to do.” You had said as you had removed yourself from his embrace.

The man in front of you just smiled, and holy was it the most beautiful smile you had ever seen plastered on anyone's face before. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head a little bit. “Aw don’t worry kid, it was nothing. Those guys were a bunch of creeps.” He said as he released a small giggle. You couldn’t get enough of the man in front of you, he felt so very welcoming and warm. 

Adam had felt the same way, he kept staring at you and he was now afraid that you were going to think he was also a creep. He really couldn’t get enough of you, he barely knew you but you felt so warm and welcoming. “Adam.” He had said out loud, almost in a scolding way, he wasn’t actually sure if he was scolding himself for being a weirdo or if he was trying to introduce himself. You just peered up at him (due to the unnerving fact that he was most certainly the tallest person you had ever met). 

Feeling your nerves start to stir in your stomach, you reached out towards him and then he followed suit and the two of you shook hands. Adam had released a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. He had wanted to get to know you more, the aura that was being released from you swirled around him and made him want to just reach out and hold you against him, he wanted to be greedy with you and not let anyone else be with you. Mentally he scolded himself because you were just a complete stranger, you had not even known him for the night let alone an hour! His thoughts were cut off by your voice saying “hey why don’t we get out of here? This party is lame and I saw a nice diner a few blocks down, why don’t we go there?”  He couldn’t believe that you had wanted to spend more time with him, he must be dreaming. “U-uh yeah! Totally we can d-do that. Sounds nice.” Adam said clearly tripping over his words, in response to him you let out a small giggle. Oh that sound made Adam want to smile but also take you against the wall right then and there. 

The walk to the diner wasn’t long because of all the stories Adam had told to you. Some of them you had to double check with him to make sure they actually happened, they were just that crazy. Upon entering the diner the two of you were hit with the smell of fresh eggs and bacon, yeah you were glad you left that club. 

“Then I basically got kicked out of my own home! It’s fucking bullshit!” Adam said with a mouth half full of scrambled eggs, small yellow clouds of egg fall on the table with over exaggerated movements. Sitting there with a huge grin on your face, you couldn't remember the last time someone had made you laugh so much in one night. You desperately wanted to spend more time with Adam but didn’t want to come off as creepy. 

“Well I guess I should get going then. It is getting pretty late.” you said as you dropped a few dollars on the table for a tip. “Uh wait! Let me walk you home.” Adam had said. You smiled and said sure, as the two of you made your way outside you and Adam walked side by side towards your apartment. Every now and then your hands would brush up against each other causing the two of you to blush. As you walked closer to your apartment you grew nervous because you didn’t want to sound weird and invite this guy in. But would it really be weird? Like he saved you from two creepy dudes and you just shared a meal together. You decided to just shoot your shot and go for it. 

You stopped walking as you made your way to the staircase leading up to the front of your apartment. “Well I guess this is it.”  You said with an audible sigh. You were going to ask, you had too. “Can I have your number-” “Would you like to come inside for a bit?” The two of you had said in unison. A small smile appeared on Adam’s face, “yeah, yeah I’d like that very much. Maybe you have a pen and paper in there that I can write my number down on?” He had said. 

Now it was your time to smile, you gave a little chuckle and said “of course”. “Alright, c'mon now handsome.” You said and instantly turned around to face the door hoping you could hide the embarrassment painted on your face. To your surprise when you went to reach for the doorknob you felt a pair of hands around your waist and a chin resting on your shoulder, hot breath in your ear followed by “lead the way, sexy” and a lick behind your ear. A shaky “Oh fuck” left your mouth as you struggled to open the door.

[yodawgiherd]

Guess Who's Calling

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Rating: M Prompt: Phone sex College Eren eating Gothkasa out. That's it.

Yup, just more cope from my side. More leaks are coming, making me even more anxious, so here I am writing smut to make me forget for a short while.

Mikasa should probably spend the evening studying. When Eren asked her to come to his dorm, saying that Armin was visiting his grandpa, she should have said no, said that she’s busy. But she didn’t.

So, instead of doing her best to cram the economics lessons inside her brain, she was procrastinating. Again. Eren was a bad influence on her. Sure, the sports scholarship she got thanks to the facts that Mikasa was literally unbeatable in kickbox was nice but studying was important.

Then again, lying on a couch and cradling her boyfriends head on her chest was important too. He was sprawled on top of her, so warm that it made her skin tingle. She was dragging her fingers through his hair, frowning when some of the strands got caught on the multitude of her rings. Being goth did bring some dangers into a relationship, but Mikasa was not about to change. Eren didn’t seem to mind, as having his hair violated was a small price to pay for resting on such a comfortable pillow that was Mikasa’s incredible body.

The phone rang, invading the nice moment she was sharing with her boyfriend. Boyfriend. Booooooyfriend. Boy. Friend. Boyfriend. Her boyfriend. Boyfriend, that belonged to her.

It still felt weird on the tongue, even after a year of them being together.

“I’ll get it.”, Eren said, pushing himself away from the nice pillow that her chest was and rolling from the couch.

He crashlanded with a faked scream, making Mikasa giggle and hide her face. Dork. He was a dork. Scrambling up from his terrible fall, Eren walked over to where her phone was, grabbing it and making his way back. Close to her, he attacked, once again tackling her form and sending Mikasa into another giggling fit while she did her feeble attempts at fighting him off.

“E-Eren! The call?”

With a flourish, he handed the phone over.

“Your lovely brother is calling. Please don’t tell him that I’m in this close physical vicinity to you, I don’t want him to kill me before my finals.”

The phone rang again. She took it, looking at the screen and confirming that it was indeed Levi calling. But before she could answer, the sound of a zipper entered her ears, making her look down.

Eren was busy with unzipping her skirt and stealing it away from her hips, leaving Mikasa’s lower half in nothing but her underwear. That done, he busied himself with pushing her black top up until her stomach was in full view, even going as far as exposing her small breasts. A year back, her mind would explode from seeing it and she would immediately put the guy who dared to do this to her in a hospital. But with Eren, who broke so many of her barriers already, this wasn’t the first time and probably very far from the last. Still, she was just about to speak with Levi, so his actions deserved to be called into question.

“What are you doing?”

“A game..”, his mouth ghosted over her abs, “Stay on the call, if you hang up, I’ll stop.”

And he dipped down, truly putting his tongue to work. He flattened it against her heated skin, licking Mikasa’s stomach, collecting the tiny beads of sweat. With the tip, he traced those incredible abdominal muscles. Her heart in the throat, yet excited nonetheless, Mikasa answered the call.

“Levi? H-hi.”

“What the hell took you so long?”, he fumed, “We need to talk.”

“Wha- Ow!”

Levi frowned at the other end.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…”, with a quick gesture she flipped off Eren, who was just tongue-soothing the savage bite he planted on her left thigh, “It’s nothing.”

Those thighs, that was something to die for. Eren loved how the muscles there shifted beneath his mouth, how firm and strong and so deliciously thick they were. So delicious that he, despite her staring, sank his teeth into the right one too.

Mikasa hissed in pain, her hand reaching down to tangle in Eren’s overlong hair. Her black nails scratched against his scalp as the goth took a possessive hold of the strands. With a firm grip, she shook his head like a bad dog’s before planting it, nose first, right between her legs in an obvious gesture of: “Get on with it”

For someone so easily flustered whenever they did as much as kissed in public, Mikasa could be very demanding once turned on.

“Okay then.”, she heard Levi over the phone.

At the same time, Eren finally obeyed, pulling her panties down her long legs. In full view, he met her eyes before sniffing the underwear, making her eyes widen.

“Oh god, you’re such a pervert!”

“What’s that?”, that was Levi, and Mikasa realized that she just said it out loud.

“N-Nothing! Th-That was the tv!.”

That did not sound like tv, but Levi was willing to drop the issue.

“Whatever. Listen….”

Mikasa wanted to pay attention to what her brother was saying, but she couldn’t. Eren was now kissing her inner thighs, so close to her slit yet so far, it was making her blood boil. He was teasing, the bastard, his tongue caressing her outer lips, unwilling to give her what she craved. Tilting her hips, Mikasa made the best pleading expression she could, nudging him gently. Eren must have been feeling generous tonight, because the tip of his tongue finally slipped inside her, probing.

As was her luck, Levi picked precisely that moment to ask her something. The thing is, Mikasa had no idea what he was talking about. To make matter worse, when she opened her mouth to answer, Eren increased the tempo of his actions, making her pleasure spike. His tongue was now writhing around in her heat, lapping at the wetness caused by his actions.

“Levi I… hng I’m not sure that… mmm”

Alternating, now he was licking her in long wide strokes, flattening his tongue against her sensitive skin.

“Brat, what the hell are you doing?”

“M-Me? N-nothing, nothing at all. I… Oh god!”

His tongue brushed against her clit.

Levi’s brows pulled into a flat line as he listened to these strange moans and groans his sister kept doing over the phone.

“Listen, I don’t know what is going on, but I don’t like it. I’m hanging up now, call me when you get your brain back.”

“No! No please, don’t hang up!”

She heard Eren’s evil laugh from between her legs. To punish him for being such a bastard, Mikasa squeezed his head between her thighs, hard enough that he saw stars before she finally released him. Pulling back, he cracked his aching neck, left and right, meeting her challenging stare.

“Touché.”

And he dived back down.

“As I was saying, I need to know when your exams are finished, so I can line up the training regime for you.”, Levi repeated his question slowly, hoping that she will understand this time, “You need it before the tourney.”

“R-Right. My… Ex… mmmmm  Exammmmms.”

Eren went deep, angling his head and shoving all of his tongue inside while his mouth worked her. His jaw was beginning to ache, but he ignored it. If there was something Eren learned, it was that his usually cold and stoic girlfriend could be reduced to a quivering mess with the right approach, and some pain was totally worth it. Eager to taste her, he licked inside, rapidly darting his tongue left and right, everywhere that he could reach. He was moving his head too, shaking it, anything to stimulate that wonderful place between her legs. Mikasa’s hips arched from the bed and she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep the loud moan in. Still, some of it escaped.

“What did you say?”

“I said I’m… aaah I’mmmm..”, she couldn’t do it, so angling her head away from the phone, Mikasa panted for air.

Down below, Eren withdrew from her and immediately attacked her clit, sucking on the firm nub.

“Hey! Mikasa! Hey!”, Levi’s voice was loud enough for Eren to hear.

Knowing that if he hangs up the fun will be over, Mikasa forced herself to press the phone against her ear.

“I’m… I’m here.”

“Are you okay? What’s happening?”

“All’s fine! Great!”

“You don’t sound like it.”, Levi said, “Are you sick?”

With a pop, Eren released her abused clit, wetting two of his fingers in his mouth. He met her gaze, grey eyes with their pupils blown, gave her a wink and went back to work. Pressing his digits into her tight heat, he glided along the silky walls searching for that one place that made Mikasa go crazy. She could feel it inside her, feel his exploring hand, the fear that she won’t be able to keep quiet rising at the same rate as her pleasure.

“N-No not sick. I’m…”, a way out, she needed a way out, otherwise Levi might start suspecting something. With her mind basically blank, Mikasa blurted out the first thing that appeared there.

“I’m drunk!”

“You’re drunk?”

“Yes, I’m…oof,” Eren’s fingers moved, curving upwards, “Drunk and…”

He found it. With a gentle press of the fingertips, Mikasa’s vision went white as her body clenched and she moaned out loud, not fast enough to mute herself.

“Damn it brat. You’re underage.”

“I’m sorry!“, she squeaked out before quickly muting herself on the call properly and moaning again, so loud.

At home, Levi massaged his temples, staring at the phone. So Mikasa was drunk, probably not handling it very well judging from the sound she was making. Guess that’s college for you.

“Do you need help?”

There’s silence on the other side. What Levi doesn’t know is that Mikasa is muted again because she is moaning her heart out right now. Eren turned up the dial again. His tongue was deep inside her, licking the wet walls of her cavern, while his fingers were hard at work on her clit, pressing against the magic button in deliciously short intervals.

“Mikasa! Do you need help?”

“N-No! Eren will come and aaaaaah…”, unable to continue, she tilted her head away.

“Eren huh? That guy…”

That guy who was now at the finish line of teasing the orgasm out of his little sister. Not that Levi knew that. Mikasa’s chest was heaving, her thighs clenching around Eren head but he ignored the flares of pain it sent into his system. Mikasa could squeeze hard, and there were times when he was forced to stop in the past, otherwise his neck was at risk.

Not now. Now he was determined to make Mikasa come, and nothing would stop him. He practically abused her clit, rolling his thumb against it while he ate her out without holding back. The rougher treatment seemed to be just her thing, and the goth was losing her mind at an alarming rate. It was noisy and dirty, but he couldn’t care less. Sharp thrusts of his tongue, deep inside her and she was writhing around on the couch, phone forgotten in her hand. Until Levi spoke again.

“All right, I’ll trust Eren then. Call me when you get better, okay?”

“Yip!”

And then the phone was gone, Mikasa let it fall onto the carpet as the orgasm truly overtook her. She screamed, her face contorting in pure pleasure while all the impressive muscles in her body contracted before releasing. Outside, Eren had already positioned his hands tactically, doing his best to keep her thighs from crushing his skull. It helped a little, but not too much, as he had no chance of overpowering Mikasa’s legs. Inside, Eren’s tongue was being squeezed too, the feeling borderline painful. He groaned at that, making the wet muscle still deep in her vibrate and Mikasa was thrown headfirst into the stream of happy hormones. The electricity tickled her brain in the best of ways, her hips moving against his tongue, practically riding Eren’s face. She was contracting again, more waves and Eren felt her pulsate inside. At the moment when her muscles were relaxed, he quickly withdrew his tongue to save it but wouldn’t let her be yet. Changing it into wide licks against her trembling sex, he kept pleasuring her, drawing the already amazing orgasm out even longer.

When the wave of wetness hit his face, cushioned between her thighs, Eren didn’t really have a choice in what to do. Caged in as he was and unable to move, he drank her in, collecting all of her release inside his mouth. His tongue slid around, licking every piece of her sex, dipping in to tease out as much of her essence as he could. Eren wasn’t lying when he said that he enjoys how Mikasa tastes, no matter how much it made her blush. And when there was nothing more, when her orgasm was truly finished and her legs released him from their crushing embrace, he kissed his way up until he was looking down at her red face.

“Wanna taste yourself?”, he asked, a question that would make her slap him if she didn’t just come back from cloud nine.

Instead of answering, Mikasa pulled him in for the kiss, tasting herself everywhere. In Eren’s mouth, on his tongue and face, every nook and cranny was filled by her. Getting a proper taste of herself, of her release, she pulled back but didn’t let go, keeping their foreheads pressed together.

“I love you.”, she confessed, her feelings all jittery thanks to the overdose her brain was currently recovering from.

Eren chuckled, thumbing away the few tears that leaked from Mikasa’s eyes during this whole ordeal. They were smearing the goth’s dark eye shadow, but she was very far from minding having her makeup ruined.

“Hey, I love you too. Wanna know why?”

She smiled at him, all warm and fuzzy and happy. It went straight against her style, but Mikasa was too far gone to care.

“Why?”

There were a hundred and one reasons why, but Eren wasn’t about to list these. Instead, he had a new one in mind.

“First of all, you let me eat you out while calling Levi, and that was quite an experience.”

She slapped his shoulder, but it lacked the usual strength, and Eren continued uninterrupted.

“And second, because you keep me grounded.”

She was counting the hairs that fell over his wet face.

“What do you mean?”

“There are days when I wake up feeling like I want to destroy the whole world, but then I turn around, see you and…”, his hands slid low, groping her firm butt, “I’m like, nah, I’ll settle on destroying this ass instead.”

Eren ignored her half-hearted attempts at smacking his hands away, made so weak by the giggling fit Mikasa fell into.

“God, you’re….”, she pushed out,  “you’re such a dirty perv!”

“Says the woman who just came all over my face.”

She gasped, hiding her blush beneath her hands. But Eren was relentless, moving and peeling her fingers, one by one, away with his teeth. They clicked against the cool metal of Mikasa’s rings, but he didn’t let her armor dissuade him from the task at hand.

“Don’t hide from me, raven beauty.”

“Cheesy too.”, she accused him, “How the hell did we end up dating?”

“I don’t rightly know, things sort of clicked together.”, with her fingers successfully removed by Eren’s actions, they were face to face, so he was free to caress her cheek, “It is weird when you think about it.”

It was weird. It was weird that Mikasa, who never even considered dating before, fell for him so quickly. It was weird that Eren, whose only goal in life was to become a good doctor, was now spending so much time doting over her, because seeing Mikasa happy brought him incredible joy. It was weird because they fell together so quickly, letting each other into parts of their lives that nobody ever visited before.

It was weird, but neither Eren nor Mikasa were willing to question it because, for whatever reason, the stars were aligned for them. He with her and she with him, they were home.

Tilting her head, Mikasa accepted the kiss Eren offered as an explanation, her midnight lips molding into his so naturally. It was hard to believe that they weren’t made for one another, carefully crafted so they would fit together perfectly.

But you know what? Maybe they were.

[stiles-o-dylan24]

Hiii, sorry to bother you, I hope you doing well and are safe

, I wanna do a rewrite of an series, do you have any tips you can share, please?

If you don't wanna then it is fine.🤗

Hey friend💛 thank you, I’m doing well and doing my best to stay safe and I hope you are as well! You’re never a bother and I don’t mind at all to offer my writing tips! 

I wrote down things below the cut that helped me the most and I tried to be as organized with them as I could, so I hope these help and I’m always happy to answer any other questions or help in any way!

Character & Relationships

First thing I would say is to map out your character that you’re adding in to the show. 

Who they are, if you’re going with an OC or a reader insert, and if they’re going to be related to a canon character or if your character is going to have their own family that you’re also going to be creating

What kind of relationships, romantic or otherwise, they will have with canon characters.

Romantic relationships- map out how the ultimate endgame relationship will go: slow burn/enemies to lovers/friends to lovers. 

Have distinguished scenes that will set the pace for whichever of these tropes you go with to be believable. 

Figure out what you absolutely love when reading those tropes and how you can give that same pace to your characters, making sure to include the angst/longing/frustration/soft pure adorableness/body language light touches that makes those tropes so freaking amazing 

Knowing all of this beforehand will ideally help figure out how involved in the scenes you want your character to be. Which I personally think it’s important to brainstorm and actually put thought into reshaping the scenes with your character first, as it will really make it believable to imagine that your character was always in canon and not just put in a scene because you, as the author, say so.

I’ve read one rewrite in particular where the author obviously didn’t think about that with their reader insert character and it really showed. That caused it to feel annoyingly forced and after three seasons not enjoyable to read for me because it never felt like the reader was supposed to be there and I stopped reading it.

I know I view rewrites differently than most people but, to me, if you’re going to take on a rewrite that means you’re altering canon, at least a little bit, for the story to make sense for a new character to be added in like they were there all along. So why not change relationships and morph the story to include someone who in my opinion, and yours since you’re wanting to rewrite it, was definitely missing from the show?

Transcripts/Scene layout

So once you have a good idea of your character and the relationships you want them to have it’ll make how you alter the script easier.

Try to find transcripts of the episodes as this is incredibly easier than watching the episode with subtitles and pausing every few seconds to copy down how says what in a scene.

Every website with transcripts are usually fan made so as you copy them be warned and keep in mind that 

Sometimes who they have saying the line could not always be correct.

Sometimes the line itself is not quite correct to what was actually said

In my case, sometimes the website went away and there’s no data on the page

So for that last bullet point I do suggest, as soon as you find a website with the entire series of transcripts, copying every episode into a separate google doc(or your preferred writing doc). 

Yes it takes some time, depending on how many episodes your show has, however it’s so worth it to not have to go back and worry about the webpage being down when you’re starting season 4 (Yes that happened to me and when the page came back up I copied the rest of the series into docs)

Writing POV

More than likely the webpage you’re copying from will copy the entire episode script into one big paragraph. You will have to go through and space it out properly, however, I used that opportunity to watch the episode at the same time that I was spacing the dialogue. 

which helped in checking that what the transcripts had was correctly copied

the right person was saying what the transcripts had and if not I could quickly change the character

if you’re writing in 1st person you should also use this opportunity to take out scenes that obviously your character wouldn’t/couldn’t logically be in

though I also suggest trying to keep scenes that you feel are necessary to keep the overall story together to be read in a cohesive way. 

You can alternate to 3rd person or you could have your character do a story time to the readers in an inner monologue type of way or have them/another character explain what happened in a little recap. 

I mean your audience, for the majority, has probably watched the whole series and knows what’s happening, but you’re writing a story– why not have it flow as smoothly as if someone was actually watching the series?

To me with writing my series, keeping the overall main story well described was really important. 

I made sure to include story times and little summaries of major events my main character wasn’t apart of whenever I could and it paid off because some people had either stopped watching the show or had forgotten what had happened in later seasons and really enjoyed the fact they could still follow along with the main story.

At the same time do not feel overwhelmed with making sure you include every single event or detail.

 do whatever you feel is necessary to tell your story with your character as you would like it to be read.

And if you’re writing from 2nd or 3rd person, well you’ll more than likely be rewriting everything anyways so my hat goes off to you my friend.

Dialogue

So once you have the layout of the original episode script go through it and write the scenes with your new character(s) as best as you can from memory, since you just watched the episode while you were spacing out the script lines. 

Make the scenes believable and truly feel like your character is supposed to be there by slowing down the need to just cram your character in and instead

Have your character(s) say some of their own lines in between when the canon dialogue lines are spoken

Morph the actual canon dialogue line by either cutting it halfway and having your character(s) finish the line 

or have your character(s) say the canon dialogue line and give one of the other characters a new line/a morphed line from another character’s canon line.

Final Writing of the Episode

Once you’ve altered the episode with your character(s) watch the episode again and read through what you have written.

adding in more actions from the characters/facial expressions that may be missing to really make the scene flow more realistically.

This is the process that really worked for me to edit the episodes one by one and I felt like was the most time efficient to getting through an episode.

I think that writing through the episode without watching it and only reading the script helps in not being distracted or feeling rushed to get through a scene.

Last Notes From Me

Personally I would suggest having the first one or two seasons(depending how long they are) already written out in the ways I mentioned above, if possible the final edits done as well, before you publish the first episode.

This will drastically help you as you continue to finish writing the rest of the episodes and keep to the schedule you wish to keep to. 

It could also help you in making sure that you have added in everything you possibly wanted to add in to later episodes. 

Also help you see that the timeline of a relationship is going exactly as you would like it to.

There’s nothing worse than getting overwhelmed with a posting schedule and it causing you to rush through an episode and you leave out a key plot point that needed to happen for something you wanted to happen later on be exactly as you originally envisioned it happening.

Remember to have fun with this whole process and don’t forget that you’re telling your story for you more than anyone. You feel like something is missing and this is your opportunity to write something you will want to read.

Yes the interaction is fun and helps you get through the moments of ‘is this worth it’, however you also need to write for you. Create something you will want to read to fill that space in your mind of what’s missing when you’re watching the show/reading other people’s rewrites.

Again this is all just my advice and is to be taken with a grain of salt. You need to do things in a way that works for you! What I did was really beneficial to me and my work schedule plus my mindset for what I wanted to bring to my rewrite. It may not work for you so if it doesn’t just be patient with yourself and you’ll find your way.

Hopefully through my long ramble of a message I answered your questions or gave you some form of insight. If I did not or you still have more questions please don’t hesitate to send me another message!

I am here if you need anything– to vent, run ideas by, a beta reader, literally anything- and I absolutely love rewrites, so please tag me in yours🤗 

Good luck and I hope you have so much fun taking on a series rewrite! 

[reversecreek]

ziggy strutting up to me like this gif as i hold up a crucifix n say begone begone vile beast BEGONE from my vicinity i will NOT buy u a happy meal wretched little boy...... some live action rp to start this off..... and SCENE. takes my bow. his pinterest is here n his playlist is here.

* dylan minnette, cis male + he/him  | you know ziggy benson, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of his life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to hand crushed by a mallet by 100 gecs like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole glitching televisions impaled by remotes, nonchalantly texting the babes as a stove fire ravages your kitchen & cartoons turned up so loud it fries your eardrums thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 24th, so they’re a sagittarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY;

from the second ziggy ws born he didnt stop screaming. within the first hours of his life he gave his father an ear splitting headache tht prompted him to say “that uncooked chicken’s fucking demonic” n joke abt popping “it” in the oven to roast. when this understandably received disgusted glances frm the nursing staff he ws all like “jeez alright alright i’m kiddin i’m kiddin can’t a guy have a joke around here?” n i feel like that sets up their dynamic so nice n sweetly <3 (sarcasm) (lips pursed)

frm day one he ws just honestly a rly hyperactive child. when he laughed he’d shriek it out at the absolute top of his lungs bc he’d just get this huge giddy surge of energy all the way to the very tips of his toes n it’d hit him like a shock from a fork in a plug socket. their parenting style ws rly just lazy tbh.... they didn’t have much time for disciplining him. ziggy’s mum wld halfheartedly be like “ziggy quiet now....” n then go bk to nuking whatever vegetables she’d defrosted until they tasted like dinosaur bones..... this wld not make any difference in ziggy’s behaviour

his father rly just took the stance that it ws ziggy’s mum’s job to discipline him or raise him in general which is. 🔪 please enter the 20th century sir.... get ur noggin sorted..... needless to say he wsn’t much involved in ziggy’s life n honestly generally jst didn’t like him. ziggy was a responsibility he didn’t want (accidental prregnancy) n in his literal words once said (blatantly while ziggy ws watching cartoons on the sofa) tht ziggy just “harshes my fucking vibe a lil bit”. 

he wound up leaving when ziggy was six ish.... ziggy watched thru a crack in the blinds as his mum tried to grab at his jacket to make him stay as he lugged out his suitcase..... she even tried to physically cling onto him so he cldn’t get in his ride bt the door wound up slamming n she sat on her knees watching the lights pull out the drive n even long after they were gone. ziggy didn’t rly kno what to do abt this (emotions hd never been smthn he particularly understood, his own or how to handle other people’s) so after watching her fr 5 minutes he went out n gently shook her shoulder n was like. mom come inside u look weird out here. FKGHSFHGSFHKGFHKSGSFGHK. this was him trying to show love <3

ziggy’s mum is like.... rly relationship dependent. she gets all her self worth n validation frm whtever man she’s dating.... so she went on this like.... wild rampage of jst. dating a very large string of men. they ranged frm dreadfully boring to downright awful n were always below her standards. ziggy quite literally hated. all of them. every last one. even one that tried to b nice to him by offering to help him do his math homework when he ws 13 (bc ziggy was struggling a lot w this) n in response ziggy loudly barked until the man gt scared n stumbled backwards into a dining chair on his way out of the room. KGHFHKSJHFJGSHKFG

while him n his mum hv a kind of strained situation (there’s a great deal of resentment from her end n kind of. blaming him fr “driving his father away” n it’s never spoken abt bt it’s very much Present in their relationship n honestly ziggy kind of resents her too fr bringing some of the men into their lives tht she did) there is. love there...... sometimes she’ll like. reach out to cup the back of his head n he’ll duck his head away n be like wtf are u doing checking me for lice? n she’ll jst smile like :)...... knowing that’s how he loves. KHSFGKJGHKSFGFHKGSHF. ugh we love men who know how to process their emotions yesssss king give us nothing <3

(abuse n violence tw) idk i won’t go into it too much bt even tho ziggy’s constantly like 🙄 when his mum shows him affection he wld quite literally. kill fr her n almost did one time.......... narrowly avoided getting charged w assault when one of her bfs was drunk n evil n he went into protective mode.... idk he. has gone thru a lot n seen a lot n so has his mum. they look after each other the best they kno how despite the negatives in their relationship.... it’s complex <3

literally got in trouble so. often. at school. he ws always hyperactive (undiagnosed adhd n also probably not helped by the fact he ws jst allowed to eat sm junk food w 459729457952 sugar percentage all hours of the day) bt when his dad left n like. dealing w acting out so severely at home where his mum’s bfs were concerned it rly escalated..... i jst think he ws like. literally a terror. probably got suspended so many times. maybe even was permanently expelled before he cld get his diploma honestly. set off a firework in school hallway. smthn absolutely reckless n stupid.

hs hd a bunch of jobs mostly in the service industry...... usually ends up getting fired.... worked at mcdonald’s fr a while n then one day he went in rly high n ate three cheeseburgers in front of a weeping child who hd ordered one.... promptly gt fired bt he ws like yo fuck this place i’m quitting n threw off his apron n was like who’s with me??? who’s joining the union??????? to the rest of the staff n they were all mostly like >_> <_< before security approached to forcibly remove him n he grabbed a cookie n crammed it into his mouth in rebellion mid frantic n frankly possessed escape.....

in terms of wht’s going on to this day w his living situation i honestly think he still lives w his mum. i can just see this. KHGFSKGHSFGKSFGH. in like. a ramshackle bungalow in delphinus heights.... having said tht she probably isn’t. there tht often nw she’s dating her latest man (jonas, somehow always sweaty no matter the weather, wears too many gold rings n smells like shoe cleaner) who owns a car dealership n thinks he’s a kingpin for it. still home sometimes tho.

PERSONALITY:

ziggy spends his days working shifts at an ice cream parlour (one he got fired from once bc he broke in high n ate sm ice cream he was lay on the floor in the bk pants unbuttoned stomach bulging sm calling himself garfield saying he had too much lasagna. they hired him bk tho bc he has a harem of middle aged women who lust after him n it brings customers....) or like. cruising parties...... setting off fireworks.... skateboarding...... breaking into abandoned buildings.... filming stupid jackass type tricks....... playing guitar hero...... getting drunk at the arcade..... sometimes busking fr cash in a tossed dwn hat (very badly) (thinks he’s sick at it however)........ or alternatively...... fucking chicks aha...... fuck.......... not exclusive to chicks tho just had to sound despicable bt :smirk: he’s bi Baby.... 

i won’t lie he’s kind of an asshole................ never rly was taught properly how to empathise with ppl so like he struggles w that....... sometimes he’ll say smthn tht’s genuinely just quite mean n doesn’t need to be said but he doesn’t rly realise it’s like bad. n he’s like. what’s the deal haha why are u mad...... 

fuckboy. genuinely jst. rly summarises it well. insatiable. sleeps around wildly. will say he’ll call u back n then will not call u back. lies like oh babe i’m moving to france tomorrow fuckkkkkkkkk sucks so bad that we can only have one night but let’s make it special yeah? tits? n then they’ll see him casually skating past them on the street a week later n be like well clearly he’s not in france. ziggy doesn’t care.

calls himself a “genius inventor” bc he once gutted a vintage analog television n made it into a fish tank. it literally leaked water a bit. still convinced he is a literal visionary never seen before never done again. he’s like i’m on the brink of greatness. i’m the next einstein.

has a bit of a god complex where he thinks he’s the sexiest person in any given room n it’s kind of funny bc like dylan minnette’s sexy to me bt tht isn’t a widespread opinion n ur being a bit bold ziggy...... regardless has confidence thru the roof tht isn’t rly deterred by anything or anyone.....

dyes his hair 49729572459752 colours every colour under the sun. sometimes all at once jst different patches. wears lots of tie dye tshirts n basketball shorts even tho he doesn’t play basketball. rly colourful sneakers. just lots of loud colours tbh. often wears a paper clip in his ear as an earring. pierced it himself. someone probably recorded him doing it fr his insta story. probably was drunk.

drives a vespa around tht is baby blue with pastel yellow polka dots. it has lots of tin cans attached to the back by string like on those cars when u just got married. he did not just get married. u can hear him arriving frm over a street away.

almost never pays fr anything bt is always like “yo it’s my treat” n then either dine n dashes or u have to pay

his idea of romance is nuking a hot pocket as breakfast in bed n then complaining he’s hungry n eating half

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

fuckboy antics: he’s insatiable. rabid. notorious. mayb they fkd n he didn’t call........ jst completely ghosted........ mayb they were genuinely into him n he honestly built up kind of false pretences abt them having a connection n then jst dipped..... cld  b good fr angst n drama <3 someone please egg his house he deserves it <3

high skl heathens: locals tht were equally chaotic in hs..... just picture him having this group of misfits tht were like so loud n always getting up to no good doing god knows what god knows where.... probably gt arrested together breaking into an old abandoned hospital one time........... rly just doing the absolute most at all times............. probably so loud........... drinking n smoking far too much.....

an attempted teenage relationship: i’m like. tentative to even put this one bc i just feel like ziggy wld be a shit bf. KJHGFSHGFHGSFHGFKGHFKSG. but. maybe it ended in drama.....i’d say this wld probably be a girl bc in hs he probably ws less open w his sexuality... maybe ziggy cheated on her or she cheated on him................ angst........ strife.... we love it we love it........ i crash my car into the bridge... i don’t care... i love it... sudden icona pop moment me stood on stage singing karaoke.... it’s just gone 7am as i write this so i apologise if this is losing any. coherency. smiles so sexy....

last adolescent plot i swear: i picture when ziggy was expelled he somehow amassed a large group to protest w signs outside the school fr him to be accepted back. it didn’t work. he threw a party when he received news he hadn’t got back in anyway. maybe ur muse was involved or helped organise this or was violently opposed.

enemies: ppl who just. don’t like ziggy bc like honestly that’s so fair n valid. KJHGFKGHKSFGHSGKHSFHG..... mayb he like. exploded their mailbox one time when they were younger. mayb he skated over their toes. mayb he fucked their bitch aha fuck................. (joking btw) (don’t condone misogyny) (hashtag feminism). cld be fun to play around w

fwb: probably hs a few of these......... mayb they’re cool w things being no strings attached n lax n at ease w ziggy being the mess tht he is in general..... mayb they want more bt ziggy cannot provide...... mayb they literally don’t get on at all n this is their only mutual ground n they keep coming bk to each other.... :smirk:..... whatever u Farncy....

maybe ziggy’s mum dated ur muse’s dad at one point???? we can discuss this if u think it fits..... cld be fun to play around w............

coworkers: past or present r fun..... mayb they were like WTFFF is this guy fking ONNN at a past job (he’s had a few in the food service industry so pretty open in tht area)... mayb they work w him at the ice cream parlour now..... cn discuss the dynamic probably wld be dependent on the muse involved fr like. how he’d act n stuff.... :yum:

[yummyinmytwistedtummy]

Commission: Idia x Oc

Alright kids I have been working on this one for a little while now and I really hope ya’ll enjoy it. This work was commissioned by a friend who wishes to remain anonymous but they came up with the OC (Talia) and idea. I had lots of fun writing this! 

Tags: soft vore, oral vore, safe vore, accidental vore, stuffing kink, belly kink, burp kink

   Talia giggled at the look on her boyfriend's face. His eyes were wide with slight disbelief and surprise, and his lips quirked up to create an excited smile. The takeout bags that she had carried in seemed to draw his interest almost immediately after he laid eyes on them. She soon found out why when a loud grumble emitted from his stomach, making his face flush with embarrassment. He tried to ignore his noisy stomach by asking her what was in the bags. Talia set the bags down and took out a few containers of take out. She always went overboard when it came to buying food for her boyfriend who had a nasty (not really though) habit of stuffing himself to the brim. 

  “How’s it going?” Talia asked calmly. “I’m great actually. My guild just reached the next map and we leveled up again!” Idia always became more open when talking about his games. It was cute to see him light up so Talia would let him ramble for hours about his games even if she didn’t understand them. She listened to him talk while pulling out the takeout boxes and organized everything so it was easy to reach but wouldn’t fall off the bed. Idia trailed off as his stomach let out another loud gurgle, insisting that he fill it now. He smiled shyly and pulled the box of cheese and chicken quesadillas closer to him. Talia snatched one to munch on when he first opened the box and received a fake glare from the introverted teen. She ate her meal quickly, hoping that if she did she would get to watch her boyfriend chow down afterwards.

   The takeout she had ordered had not been able to fit in one bag but came in three as there was enough to feed a family of six comfortably for nearly half a week of dinners. Six containers of quesadillas filled with gooey cheese and well seasoned chicken took up one bag which was seated closest to the gamer. The next bag contained two boxes of tacos, four hardshell in each, stuffed with beef, lettuce, beans, chicken, guacamole and topped with sour cream, cheese, and cilantro. This bag also held two large bowls with plastic lids. They had rice and beans inside with sides of sour cream. The last bag had two cardboard boxes each with a well stuffed burrito inside. To top it all off she had also bought three bottles of sprite and a box of ten churros.

   As a nonhuman it was easier for Idia to down almost three times as much food as the average growing teenage boy. The fact that his body ran really hot only helped since most of the food was melted as soon as it landed in his gut anyways. When Talia finished her meal she attempted to distract herself futilely with cleaning up her dishes.

   It was hard not to glance over as Idia picked up the first quesadilla and held it up to his mouth. He opened wide and took half the large triangle in one bite. Cheese stretched from where he bit so he stuck his tongue out to maneuver the access goods into his mouth. He chewed a bit and swallowed, a large lump protruding from his neck, before cramming the rest of the piece into his mouth and reaching for another.  

   She watched with rapt attention as her boyfriend continued to down each cheesy triangle until there were only 3 boxes of them left. Her eyes widened as her boyfriend lifted 3 pieces stacked on eachother, folded them and all but stuffed them in his mouth before swallowing noisily. His stomach gurgled in greeting the new mass of food as Idia caught his breath. Soon he was reaching for the next three and ate them in the same fashion.

   He grunted and rubbed his neck as he finished off the last few quesadillas and reached for the bag with the sodas in it and pulled out the first bottle. It hissed as he popped the cap off and foamed as he tipped it back and guzzled the first half. The gamer pulled the rim from his lips and gasped, making a face of slight pain. 

   Another side effect of Idia’s intense body heat meant that liquids were nearly always turned into steam as soon as they reached his stomach. Apparently he could absorb all the H2O he needed from the steam in his belly but with things like soda since there was virtually no health benefit they simply just filled him up with air. 

   Talia always enjoyed this part about him because even after he had stopped drinking the fizzy liquid his stomach would continue to bloat and expand as the soda was turned into a gas. He overestimated how much he could drink because of this and often ended up with a painful gut that’s only remedy was to release all of the air. Idia bit his lip and pressed a hand against his hidden but also noticeably distended stomach before letting out a few thick belches.

“UUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRP!”

“HHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUU-AAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUURRLP!”

“GRUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRUUUUURRP!!”

   Each one was relatively long and loud but they were nothing compared to what Idia could produce and has produced after a full stuffing. Still The blonde squirmed in her seat and made a small squeak of excitement when they came to an end. “Aahh, uurf. Sorry about that.” Idia said as he pulled the boxes of burritos towards him and popped the first one open. Talia blushed at the crass behavior her boyfriend only ever let out when he was eating.

  It was then that Talia remembered the box of chocolates that she was given as a makeup gift for Floyd bumping into her and ruining her latest science project. The box was filled with an assortment of different kinds of truffles all decorated elegantly. They looked delicious but she couldn’t help but be suspicious. Azul had said they were a “special kind of treat” after all and with those three she never knew whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

   Idia paused his eating and looked up at her before swallowing thickly and pointing at the box of truffles. “What are those?” Talia chuckled softly at her boyfriend’s sweet tooth made an appearance once again. “They were a gift from the Octavinelle boys because Floyd accidentally ruined my science project.”

“The one Mr Crewel gave out?”

“Yeah.”  

“Oof” he cringed at the thought of having to redo that assignment but at least Talia had gotten some candy out of it. “So can I have some?” He said as innocently as possible while leaning over to get a better look. She rolled her eyes playfully, “Only if you finish dinner first. I didn’t spend my hard earned money on this for you to skip straight to dessert again.” Idia sat back up and began wolfing down more food faster than before. 

   Talia smiled shyly as she felt a blush creep up onto her face. Why did she find it hot when he ate? He was just picking up the first bottle of soda when Talia decided to try a truffle that looked particularly good. She bit into it and moaned at the flavor. Creamy chocolate mixed with a dark cherry with a hint of bitterness swirled around in her mouth. Idia looked over when he heard her and blushed at the look of bliss on her face. Now he really wanted one.

   He frowned and pouted a bit before deciding to regain her attention with something that always worked quite well. He reached over and grabbed a two liter and smirked before twisting the cap off and noticed Talia’s flinch of acknowledgement when she heard the familiar hiss.

   Tipping the soda bottle back, Idia made sure to gulp down the soda noisily to grab her attention. Talia looked up and swallowed before biting her lip as she watched the amount of soda in the bottle dwindle at an insane rate. The bottle crinkled and sucked inwards as Idia drained the last few drops before he pulled it from his lips and placed it back on the bed. 

A long rumbling belch ripped past his lips and filled the room with the smell of his mexican dinner. He pressed a hand against his now fairly large gut to help press more of the eruction out. 

“BWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRP!!!”

“Haaah… oooh… That was pretty good…” He panted to get his breath back and reached over to the first box of tacos. Talia shifted as she watched him grin lazily at the next taco and open up to bite through the stuffed shell. She knew her face was a blazing red after the display of gluttony and shamelessness, but couldn’t bring herself to care as Idia crammed another taco past his blue lips, making his cheeks bulge and stretch to accommodate the quantity of food.

   She could have watched him eat all night imagining herself being the one he pushed into that dark, slimy chasm, but it seemed life had other plans. A strange feeling suddenly shot up one of her arms. She flinched and rubbed at it, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. It happened again with the other arm and as she was turning to look at that one it was almost as if someone had suddenly dunked her whole body in icy water. Pain bloomed across her skin before fading into numbness. She shouted and instinctively

grabbed onto Idia before the sensations reached her brain and everything seemed to drizzle together.

   It was a few moments before the abstract painting of her surroundings came into focus again, but she wasn’t quite sure it worked all the way because everything she looked at was huge. She sat up still dizzy and recognised in her ringing ears that someone was speaking. She shook her head as if to clear water from her ears and felt them pop a bit before she heard Idia asking if she was alright.

   Standing up Talia yawned and started to tell him she was fine. When he came into view however it was apparent that she wasn’t fine after all. Idia was ginormous. He towered over her and she yelped in surprise, falling backwards. Never in her entire life had Talia ever imagined that she would fall off a taco and into whatever sauce came with the meal they had been eating. Not that it wasn’t just delightful to swim in thick ooze that smelled like spices. She gripped the edge of the container and attempted to catch her breath. 

   “OH MY GOD YOU’RE TINY!” Idia panicked and grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted her into his palm. “Woah! You’re the size of a mouse!” Talia flinched at the volume of his voice and covered her ears. “Oh oh sorry. You must be more sensitive to sound now that you're so small.” She picked herself up and momentarily stared at the giant that was her boyfriend. He was holding her relatively close to his face so she could see on the same level as him but all of his features were much larger than before. His eyes, his nose, his mouth… “Oh wow…” His lips were usually very thin and formed a small pout but when he ate his mouth became a huge gaping hole that she couldn’t help but stare at. If she could get him to open his mouth for her she might just die and go to heaven.

   “Hey are you alright? What happened?” Idia looked down at her with concerned eyes so she pushed the sauce out of her eyes and took a few steps forward. “It seems that Octavinelle thought it would be amusing to shrink me and yes I am ok. Just covered in sauce is all.” He made a small o with his mouth and grabbed a napkin. “Here I can help you… uh… wipe...um yeah” He stumbled over his words as he gently stroked the napkin across her body with his fingers. Being one handed was kind of hard for him though and one stroke was a little too hard. Talia fell backwards with a yelp and Idia quickly sputtered out an apology. 

   “It’s fine. Honestly though licking me clean would be faster.” She huffed. Idia froze and stared down at her with an unreadable expression. “Oh-oh… I-I mean… all I meant was-” She was cut off by Idia’s tongue licking a long stripe up her side. When he pulled back Talia flushed and put her face in her hands. Oh man! Why did that feel so good? “D-d… do it again…” The blush on Idia’s face darkened and he leaned down again to delicately slide his smooth tongue over Talia’s cheek. She squirmed and whimpered. It came to Idia that if he teased her she would squirm more so he sucked in a deep breath and in a low husky voice he whispered to her.

   “It’s surprising how well the sauce tastes with you, although I have to say I like your natural flavor much more.” His stomach did turns with nervousness but calmed when she let out a small moan. He chuckled and continued to clean the sauce off of her with his tongue. When he finished he pulled back and let her stumble to her feet.

   Talia stood on shaky legs and tried to process the fact that this was reality. She looked up at Idia who opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by a low rumble from his stomach. She giggled and asked him if he was still hungry. “Always, but that can wait until we figure out how to get you back to normal.” He looked down at her with concern. Talia shifted her stance and bit her lip. “Well I um… I was wondering… Maybe you uh… I could…” Idia smiled lovingly and found himself totally captured by how cute a tiny flustered version of his girlfriend. “I WANT TO KEEP FEEDING YOU EVEN THOUGH I AM REALLY SMALL!” Her sudden burst surprised him but he held back a laugh when she immediately buried her face in her hands. 

   It was just too cute he couldn’t resist. Idia leaned down again and pressed his lips against her cheek gently in an almost nonexistent kiss. She yelped and If she could flush more she would. “Yeah that sounds really nice” Idia said with embarrassment. He held up the taco for her and tried not to coo at how adorable she looked when ripping a piece of lettuce so she could feed it to him. She walked over to the edge of his palm and he opened his mouth slightly, sticking out his tongue to receive the food. She stared for a moment before looking up at him. “I wanna check your teeth.”

   Ever since she first saw them Talia wanted to check Idia’s teeth. She wanted to become a dentist someday so when she saw a row of jagged fangs that were usually hidden behind blue lips she almost shrieked in surprise and happiness. Since that day her greatest dream was to check his mouth and teeth. After they got together it was even harder to resist looking at his mouth anytime he opened it even a fraction. Not only because those sharp pearly whites were on display, but the mouth hidden behind them was enticing in a way that was far too much to just be a wannabe dentists fascination. Now that she was presented with a once in a lifetime opportunity to actually be up and personal with his teeth and mouth she couldn’t resist asking to take a look around.

   Idia was definitely caught off guard by her sudden declaration but unsurprised by the content of her demand. He did blush though and “eep” when he realized what that meant. “D-do you really want-” “yes! Yes I want to!” Talia was determined to make the most of this situation and that included getting in her boyfriend's mouth. He nodded nervously and pulled his hand up to his mouth. 

   He opened as wide as he could to give her the full view of his gaping mouth. She stood and stared at the dark cavern. It had pink fleshy walls coated in sticky saliva. The teeth in front were long and jagged and rimmed the soft muscle on the inside. His tongue was long and curious as it lifted slightly in response to her gaze. Long strands of liquid ropes stretched and snapped as he spread his jaws. She dragged her sight to the back of his mouth where a drop hidden by darkness invited her to come closer. She shivered and swallowed thickly. 

   Glancing back up at her too large boyfriend, Talia put her hands out and gripped the first sharp tooth, careful not to slice her palms. She stepped over the row of dangerous daggers where his tongue met her in a way that reminded her oddly of Kalim’s magic carpet. “Woah…” she breathed out as she was encased in humid heat and the smell of spicy mexican food with a hint of sweetness from the soda. 

   “Are you alright?” Came the voice of Idia’s ipad. Talia turned on her hands and knees and felt his tongue shift underneath her. “Never been better, but I think I see something stuck in here. I’m gonna need a second.” There was nothing in Idia’s teeth but the lie slipped easily from her mouth. Damn she thought my horniness has me lying to my boyfriend. She couldn’t find any feelings of guilt though as she gazed around his mouth.

   Shakily she stood on her feet and pressed her hands against the roof of his mouth to steady herself. He flinched and let out a noise of surprise causing her to slip and fall back on his tongue. She groaned as she felt his saliva seep through her clothes. Talia flipped herself over and froze. The back of his throat was so close and here she was just sitting her completely at his mercy. The girl knew that Idia would never do that on purpose but she couldn’t help the thrill that zinged through her at the idea.

   You see life sometimes has those moments where it acts as you think about something. Occasionally it works in your favor but most of the time it works against you. Life finds it entirely too amusing when people struggle to grasp the situation after it throws a curveball their way. This was one of those moments. 

   Ortho slammed open the door and Talia barely heard him say “Hey big brother-” before powerful jaws snapped shut and she was pushed, headfirst, to the dark cliff at the back of the throat. Slimy walls pulsed around her as she slid down a sticky tube where she felt pressure from all sides. It took a solid ten seconds to realize she was being swallowed, but her reaction was prevented by the feeling of her body being shoved through a ring of tense muscle. She landed in a semi solid-semi liquidated pool of food and layed panting in the dark. Her brain was slow to process what just happened, but her eyes went wide and she sat up when it caught up. Her boyfriend had swallowed her.

      The second the door opened Idia felt himself jump. Ortho pushed his way into the shy teens room and started to speak. Idia didn’t hear him however because when he jumped his mouth had closed and he had instinctively swallowed. Immediately panic shot through him as he realized he had just swallowed his girlfriend. Before he could do anything, though, he slumped and moaned as her form slid down his throat. He vaguely registered Ortho placing Talia’s notes on the ground near the door and leaving. The robotic boy had caught his brother in many strange situations so the event hardly bothered him. Idia sighed when he felt the large lump end it’s travels in his stomach before sitting up harshly with a yelp.

   “OH MY GOD! I AM SO SORRY! BABY? BABY! ARE YOU ALIVE?” The thundering voice of her boyfriend snapped Talia out of her astonishment and she quickly stood, ignoring how her feet sank like she was standing in mud. “Idia. Idia! Idia calm down, I’m fine!” He continued to panic and thrash about. The blonde felt herself flung against the walls of her fleshy prison. “I’m fine Idia but you need to stop moving I’m gonna get hurt!” She yelled.

  Idia froze and looked down at his bloated stomach. “Ok ok… umm… I’m sorry. W-what are we going to do now though?” He stuttered. Talia looked up towards where the voice came from. “Well for now I could...um… Stay here.” Idia’s jaw dropped before he remembered that his girlfriend always did have strange fascinations. “O-ok, sure.” Talia sighed in relief that she hadn’t seriously weirded Idia out.

   She stood again and although she couldn’t see, she had a feeling she was near the stomach lining. It felt smooth and slippery when she pressed her hands against it. Experimentally she rubbed circles around and kneaded her tiny hands into the flesh. Idia made a noise of content and sank back against his pillows. It wasn’t so bad having a tiny Talia inside of him. 

   She hummed quietly and continued to massage his soft flesh, but closed her eyes and listened to the burbling of his stomach. It suddenly felt very heavy and the burbling turned quite loud. Almost a second later Idia cracked his lips to let out a low rumbling belch. Talia’s squishy confines quivered as the short euruction came to a close. Idia huffed and sat back to let out another loud burp. 

   “BURRRRRAAAAAAOORRP!!! Mph, I think you're making me burp Talia.” She sat down and leaned against the rubbery wall of his stomach. “Do it again Idia.” She whispered quietly. He didn’t hear here but it didn’t matter much cause he burped again anyway. “Ungh damn it. It’s stuck. Hey um…” His shy voice cut off and Talia understood what he meant.

   Standing the blonde prepared herself and drew back. She then slammed into the fleshy walls as hard as she could and on the outside Idia lurched before slapping a hand over his mouth. The attempt was futile however since his belch was forceful enough to push it away.

“HUUUUAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAAOOOORRR- EEEEUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOORRRLP!!!!!!”

   The blast was loud enough to make Talia’s ears ring and it lasted for a solid 7 seconds. Talia was shaken and rattled as the belch drew on before pausing and opening up again to a louder volume. As it finished Idia fell backwards onto the bed. His stomach giving a loud BLORSH as it swayed back with him. He moaned and panted, a deep red rising to his cheeks. 

   Talia was suddenly thrown around her spongey cave and got covered in foul smelling mush that she could only assume was the mexican food she had picked up before she got shrunk and eaten. Her legs were unsteady as she stood and shook the gunk from her hair. “Damn I’m gonna have to get new clothes. That’s gonna be a pain.” 

   Idia drew his hooded eyes to his large stomach. “Hey are you alive in there - huuraaap! Oof.” Talia couldn’t figure out which way was up so she simply stood where she was as she replied. “Yeah I am, but uh actually. How am I gonna get out.” Idia furrowed his brows. “I guess we will have to ask Azul since he was the one that got you into this mess. Ohh but that sounds really bad…” 

   Sensing her boyfriend's anxiety, Talia shushed him and continued speaking. “Umm… He Idia. How much food have you got left?” He paused his worrying and looked down at the remaining boxes of food. “I have two boxes of rice and beans and 3 more tacos, Plus the churros and the last bottle of soda.” Talia shifted in her spot and bit her lip. “Do you have any more room?” 

   She didn’t get an answer but she felt Idia shift and soon she could hear large clumps of masticated food fall into the thick ooze that already filled his gut to the near brim. The blonde shivered despite the intense heat that surrounded her. Idia ate the last few tacos with incredible speed and shuddered everytime he sent a thick lump rolling down his throat. 

   The sharp crunch and snap of the taco shells filled the room as he bit the last taco clear in half before shoving the rest inside his mouth before he even started chewing the first half. He was tempted to check on Talia but knew that she would appreciate it more if he left her in the dark as he ate the rest of his meal. His stomach pushed painfully against his jeans and he grunted as he suppressed a thick belch in his cheeks, blowing the fetid gas out the side of his mouth. He chuckled knowing that if she were still on the outside of him Talia would be bright red and squirming in place anxiously. 

   The only things left were the boxes of rice and beans and the bottle of soda plus dessert. Idia huffed and struggled to reach the last bags due to his gut which was now a solid 2 feet in diameter and churned loudly in an attempt to digest the insane amount of food he had eaten already. He felt his eyelids droop and forced himself not to enter a food coma yet as he popped the lid off the first bowl like container. 

   Using the serving spoon that the bowls had come with he spooned drippy beans mixed with the dry rice into his mouth and tried to ignore how his stomach groaned in protest. It wasn’t so hard to eat the first bowl of rice and beans since the new flavor had ignited minor hunger once again, but he had barely gotten through a fourth of the bowl when his stomach growled again painfully and he let out a wet burp. “Oooh, Talia I don’t,  HIC-UUAUURLPH! Ungh… I don’t feel so good.”

   The blonde looked up from where she was sitting dazed and feeling very… pleased with her current situation. Her brows furrowed in concern and she pressed a tender hand against the stomach wall she was leaning against. “Idia it feels kinda heavy and dense in here. I think you have too much pressure. Um… maybe try… you know…” Her face flushed with embarrassment and Idia likely would have been a bit embarrassed too had he not already known about her interests. Besides he was preoccupied with soothing his aching stomach. 

   The idea of drinking soda wasn’t very appealing at the moment so he decided to swallow down air instead. A large amount of air rushed into the stomach and startled Talia who suddenly felt like the air was getting so thick that it was squeezing her. She bit her lip and put a hand against the wall for moral support as she heard her boyfriend moan in pain. The blonde felt bad for him but not that bad cause soon the air left the space in a very loud and very long way.

“BRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAARR-HHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRP!!!”

   Idia slumped and panted, once again relishing the feeling of clearing space in his stomach. “Nice one” Talia squeaked from her spot in his gut. Idia looked down and giggled, imagining her face burning bright red and her eyes wide with shock and a hint of something more. “Think you have room now?” Her voice came again and Idia nodded despite the fact that she couldn’t see him. He would have to eat quickly while his stomach was still deceived into having more room. 

   Swallowing the last of the rice and beans down, Idia took his sweatshirt and pulled his tank up to rest on top of his burgeoning middle. It was completely round and swayed a bit when he moved around. He pulled the churros and soda bottle over with one hand, hiccuping a bit when the movement forced his gut to bounce, and used the other hand to rub circles over his taut skin. 

   The smell of the sugary desserts brought new life into Idia’s resolve and with determination picked up the first churro and snapped it with his sharp fangs. He ate the churro in three bites and swallowed despite his stomachs constant pleads for him to stop. The churros were still warm and were quite delicious so he didn’t have such a hard time eating them as he did with the rice and beans. He did start to feel sick again around his eighth and had to pause for longer between each churro. His bites became smaller and his breathing was slightly labored. Talia took note of this and began to run her hands over the inside of her boyfriend's gut as a way to comfort him as best she could.

   A part of her wished she could be on the outside, rubbing Idia’s round belly, helping him eat the rest of the churros and coaxing burps out of him to free up space. On the other hand sitting inside his intensely warm stomach which churned loudly as it digested was also an opportunity that she never wanted to miss. She heard Idia sigh and knew her efforts were working.

  The gamer let his eyes close for a few moments as he just enjoyed how Talia’s hands felt when they rubbed against his inside. Feeling himself falling asleep Idia shook his head and reached for the last churro. It took six bites to finish and had him forcing every one down with as much willpower as he had, but was worth it in the end when a sense of pride washed over him. The only thing left now was the last bottle of soda.

   Idia steeled himself and sat all the way up before grabbing the soda bottle and pressing it against his bloated abdomen. Talia heard the hiss and pop of the cap coming off the bottle and backed up to avoid being splashed. Not that it mattered since she was covered from head to toe in just about everything else Idia had eaten including soda. 

   He brought the rim to the bottle to his lips and only hesitated for a second before squeezing his eyes shut and tipping the bottle back. Soda gushed into Idia’s stomach and sloshed up against the walls, coating Talia with another layer of sticky sugar. The hand on Idia’s stomach felt how the skin pulled with every swallow. If Idia could he would have looked down and seen his already massive gut expand as he continued to slug down the fizzy drink. Almost as soon as the last drop of soda left the bottle Idia groaned and lurched forwards to hug his gut. 

   The soda pop fizzed and bubbled as it was quickly turned into a gas by the heat of Idia’s innards. After it came to the blue haired teens attention that his stomach would only keep growing due to the fact that air takes up more space than a liquid he quickly reached down and pressed a finger to the button on his pants. How they held up this far was a miracle since as soon as he touched the button it came undone with a loud ping and the zipper rolled down of its own accord. The massive gut surged forward to fill the space that it had been restricted from before. Idia moaned before his gut let out one more loud gurgle and a belch louder and longer than any he had let out so far blasted from his lips.

“HHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRP!!!!!!”

   Idia’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell back against the pillows on his bed, his gut bounced with him and caused another burp of incredible magnitude to come rocketing out.

“BOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRP!!!!”

   After that belch after belch rolled out of his mouth, each one long, loud, and full of pressure. The room quickly stank like sickly sweet and spicy gut gas but Idia could hardly bring himself to care. He hiccuped and let out one more much smaller after burp before moaning and relaxing completely into the sheets beneath him. He didn’t feel as sick as he did before now that his stomach wasn’t filled with air. Instead he felt sleepy and content. 

   Talia on the other hand was still reeling from how incredible that crass display was. At this point she didn’t even bother covering her moan as she felt herself heat up for a completely different reason than the temperature in Idia’s stomach. A few moments of blissful silence passed of the two simply enjoying their situation when Idia’s phone pinged. 

   He groaned and grabbed it, clicking the home button so he could view the text. Azul: Hey I just thought I would let you know that the treat that I whipped up for you and your little friend will also cause her to be immune to any damage she may receive while ahem inside. Have fun and you can thank me later ;)

   Idia reread the text about nine times before he let his phone fall onto his gargantuan stomach, which was at this point 3 feet in diameter. That shitty octopus did this on purpose. The teen groaned again and read the text to Talia who didn’t respond for a long moment. “Well I guess that means I can stay in here a bit longer right?” She asked hopefully. Idia chuckled, “Yeah. We can figure out how to get you out after I take a nap.” 

   A yawn punctuated his sentence and his consciousness slipped as a food coma took over. Talia smiled sweetly from her comfortable position inside his very full gut. “Yeah…” She murmured softly before shutting her own eyes and letting the sounds of a pleasantly stuffed stomach lull her to sleep as well.