#art block has been killing me but I’ve finally escaped !!!!

[coleszzzworld]

Yandere x reader (she/her pronouns for reader)

Apocalypse Au.

Tittle-“the end of the fucking world.”

Definition~”the complete final destruction of the world, as we know it.”

Author’s note! -(Feel free to skip this!:))-im back! , I have a few things to say , this series is inspired by the last of us , but not completely lol , the zombies in this AU is based off the infected (most of the zombies are runners ) there is no bloaters tho , those things are literally horrifying lmao💀. But there is also no firefly’s , just the government and quarantine zones and hunters , I love the games art work and how they made , the city’s seem so destroyed, so that’s what I’m kinda of going for in this AU ! , enjoy!:)-Phantom out;)!

TRIGGER WARNING!!!-violence , cussing , mentions of blood , kinda of yandere behavior- positively do not read if easily triggered!



“Bad things happen to the people you love and you find your self praying up to heaven above.”

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“If we want to be in the next town by tonight you, need to pick up the pace y/n” Leo says as he stops to wait for you to pick up the pace.

You breathe out , annoyed by him “If we want to be in the next town by tonight you, need to pick up the pace y/n” you mock him in a high pitch tone while you roll your eyes , “y/n! So help me go-“ Leo says before you cut him off .

“Yeah , No listen here military guy , just because your body knows how to keep moving even if it’s tired , doesn’t mean my body does! , I’m tired , hungry, and thirsty we’ve been walking for about two days with barely any breaks ! I’ve been up walking for 48 hours leo! I need sleep” you say as you get irritated at the lack of sleep and basic human needs .

You sigh , and turn your head away from him , You take a look around you something you haven’t done in days , taking in all the destroyed buildings from being neglected and nature covering them with vines and nature also doing the same for the abandoned cars you could tell this used to be a big city , the streets were jammed packed with whatever fleeing people left behind when the outbreak started “Leo.. where are we at?” You say as anxiety fills your body , ever since the world ended , you never went through major cites ever. You know that cites are taken over by infected or hunters , that and since the debris from the buildings or cars are blocking most of the pathways so theirs no escape. You’ve been so tired and thirsty you haven’t even noticed where you been walking to , you feel like your heart has dropped in your stomach. Your not even hungry or tired or thirsty anymore , all you can think about is how can you and Leo can escape if shit turns sideways . Suddenly you notice the broken billboards, and the lights strung around, and the over grown palm trees , suddenly it clicks .

“Leo please don’t tell me we are in Vegas…” you say feeling more scared by the moment , you look around your surroundings very fast , making sure theirs not threats coming towards you two , “y/n are you okay?” Leo says as he runs up to you grabbing your shoulder and looks at down at you with worry in his eyes . “Goddamn Leo! , how the hell did we ended up in Las Vegas !” You say as you whisper scream to him , fearing whatever is here could hear you if you screamed at him

“Um we walked here?” He says , as he shrugs , you glance at him , then give him a disappointing smile , “oh really! , I thought we flew here on my million dollar jet !” You say sarcastically , as you roll your eyes at him , “look I was so tired from you making me walk for almost two days straight I didn’t even notice, we were in the city till now , what if a big hoard of infected comes out one of these buildings to eat our faces off ! , or better yet what if a hunter robs us then kills us!” You say , as you panic. Leo grabs you hand and strokes it , it immediately brings you out of your panic state , you look at him , “y/n don’t worry , we are going to be okay! “ he says as he smiles at you , “h-how so?” You say , “ 5 days into the out break the military blew up cities to kill as much as infected as they can. Most infected were in major cities , because of the high population ” He turns you towards the buildings and tilts your chin up so all you can see is buildings leaning against each other , “that’s why most of these buildings are leaning against each other . I’m not saying they’ve been fully cleaned out , but theirs probably a few infected inside .” He explains , “it’s faster to go through the city then go to around it , andddd the reason we don’t take a break is , even if theirs a few of infected in their , I don’t want to risk it . I don’t want you to get hurt .” He says as he drags out the ‘and’ part , you get flustered mumble a quick “what ever “ as you walk off , hoping over the car to get back on track to getting out the city , he smiles to him self , then follows behind you .

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(This is a draft , I didn’t know if I should release it or not , but I wanted to post something! , but I should be posting more this summer!)-♦️🖤🐇

[annemagus]

natural love potion; h.p.

Pairing: harry potter x fem!Gryffindor!reader Timeline: HBP / 6th year Warning(s): cussing, mentions of dying and blood, submission, reader pining Word Count: 5k

A/N: Hey there! This is my first ever post. I would love to hear your thoughts!

Harry and Y/N are friends. Just friends. Much like Harry and Hermione, there is nothing out of it that is going on between them. Not until that day in potions.

—

“Are you done with my potion?“

“You mean, will Professor Slughorn call you by your name? Then yes, Wallenby.“

It was the first week of another year at Hogwarts. New faces, new prefects and even new professors are introduced, as usual. Professor Slughorn is the newest addition to the faculty and to have a good first impression with the students, he's given the 6th years Amortentia, the love potion, as their first Potions homework.

They were supposed to put it in their selected food or drink and it had to be unnoticeable. Why would the Potions Teacher assign this kind of homework to the students? No one knows. But this certainly gave him a good first impression to a large number of students.

“Blimey Harry, we've been rotten at Potions ever since. Now look at you, it's as if you've taken private lessons with Snape the whole summer. You’re the bloody Potions Master in our year now!“

The two Gryffindors are making their way out of their dorm room towards the Common Room with Harry holding a small basket of cookies to bring it in the dungeons where the potions classroom is at. Y/N is patiently waiting for them near the Portrait as several students greet her along the way.

"G'morning."

“Where’s ‘Mione?“ Ron exclaimed without even acknowledging the girl’s presence.

“Uhm, shouldn't you know that, Mr Prefect?"

The male prefect then realized the time and his supposed agenda to escort first years to the Great Hall. Harry scolded him of how much he and others would kill to be in his position and yet he’s never given it any importance.

“Godric, have mercy on me. Hermione’s gonna kill me!” the redhead exclaimed after getting a playful slap behind his head from the Chosen One before rushing away from the two.

“Much worse than that, she’s gonna make him expelled,“ she jokes with a mouthful of cookie from the small basket Harry was holding. "Mhm, you have no idea how badly I've been craving cookies since last week! This is good, Har. Where’d ya buy it?“ 

Harry, before realizing what happens, freezes. He was too busy lecturing his best friend that he didn't notice a hand sneaking into his potion, the cookie. His hand slowly snakes its way to the contents of the basket that has supposedly four cookies but now has only three. “Y/N!“

"What?" she chuckles dreamily.

"We need to get you to the Hospital Wing."

“What for? You put poison in it, didn't you?“ Y/N continues to chuckle dreamily.

Harry stares at his friend as if she was some peculiar experiment. “How are you feeling, Y/N?“

“I feel like . . .“ she sighs dramatically as she gazes far away, mesmerized. The effects are plainly obvious. “I feel like falling.“

“Falling?“ Harry's stomach twisted. This is what makes Potions classes bothersome, the uncertainty of knowing whether the potion you brew is right or wrong. You can only know it if you’re a professional or by testing the potion done, which in Harry’s case, Y/N would do for him.

"I'm falling in love, Harry. I'm falling in love with you."

And boy was he really the Potions Master.

The raven-haired boy's cheeks got warm the second those words escaped his friend's lips. The two are only friends and have never acted more than that. Seeing this new side of Y/N for Harry is too foreign for him.

Sure, Harry has seen her date two boys from different houses, but being the recipient of her romantic antics has never crossed his path. His last romantical relationship, if you can call it that, was last year with the senior Ravenclaw Cho Chang. Even that didn't go well. He went on a single date with her just to make her believe he's in love with both Hermione and Y/N. Ever since then, he never thought about committing to any romantic relationship.

"Harry . . ." Y/N's hand reached out for his arm, grazing down slowly towards his hand with too much delicacy. Their hands are now intertwined. The both of them have never reached this close proximity, having learned now that one of his best friend's palms are soft but slightly calloused in the fingertips from playing muggle instruments and Harry fears that when Ron finds out about this act, he will tease them nonstop which isn't fair for Y/N. ". . . I know this may sound all too sudden, but, I have loved you ever since."

He didn't respond. He tries to block all of this sudden affection out of his mind knowing these are all artificial.

"Don't you love me back?"

"Of course I do. You're my best frie-"

If his cheeks were warm, now, his ears as well are on fire. Y/N has thrown herself to the flustered boy, locking his neck and face in her arms, squealing in happiness like a kid. Holding hands is a new thing for The Boy Who Lived but hugging him as if to let the world know he's someone's is another thing.

Very few people have ever hugged him in all the history of his 16 years of existence, knowing the story of his parents and the lack thereof. His godfather, Mrs Weasley and Hermione are the only ones — as far as he knows — written in a tiny piece of parchment of the list of people who have hugged him. Yet none of them could compare to this hug as those mentioned acted parental towards him.

Students are now starting to pass them out of the Common Room towards the Great Hall. One of those shouted, "get a room!" They're still standing just beside the Portrait Hole where Ron has left them both to deal with his own romance.

"Uhm, Y/N, why don't we go get ourselves some breakfast first, yes?"

"Yes! Let's tell 'Mione and Ron that we're finally together!"

—

Breakfast was agonizingly slow, to Harry's opinion. Y/N can't stop giggling beside him and feeding him like an infant earning them attention from the others.

"Oi, Potter! Didn't know that you two are . . ."" Seamus makes a kissing face earning a few cackles and sniggers from their other friends at the table.

The boy just ignored them with an eye roll, amusing the two friends in front of him.

"Leave them be, Harry. Besides, when was the time Y/N acted on you this way, huh?" They all diverted their gaze to the dazed girl. Eyebrows knitted in concentration as she feeds him but at the same time doing her best to get as close to Harry as the universe could possibly give her the opportunity to. They've never seen her this in love and affectionate. And the two thought that Harry just deserves it even just for a while. "Never, right? You better make it worthwhile."

"Thanks, Ron. Really helpful." He answered with his famous eye-roll.

"Always here for you, mate "

"I just don't get why we couldn't tell Professor Slughorn immediately. I mean, I'm sure he has something for Y/N. Or Madam Pomfrey-"

"Yeah? In which I'm sure is also your easiest ticket to detention."

The boy grunts some incoherent words of profanities under his breath. Not only was he getting embarrassed by the fact that one of his close friends is acting like his girlfriend but dragging Y/N along with his catastrophic life is just too unfair on her side. She didn't ask for this. Plus, detention in the second week of a new school year doesn't sound good.

The Brightest Witch reminded them not to take Potions lightly. It may sound like not the most helpful subject in a wizarding war, but can get you expelled once meddled with students. In short, what happened to Y/N is very illegal. You should not use or test your Potions project with another student. Plus, Filch will go nuts if he gets the news that a student gave another student a love potion.

“Well, at least, now we know that your Potion worked well.”

"Come on, we're going to be late for DADA."

On their way towards Snape's classroom — a fact Harry still can't accept — Y/N's fingers are interlaced with Harry's as they walk. She's given him her bag as that's what boyfriend and girlfriends do. In the classroom, Y/N didn't sit in her usual spot but literally kicked Ron out of his chair to sit beside Harry, the boy just mouths a sorry.

Her usual focus from the class was now inclined to Harry himself alone the whole class. Out of all their major subjects, Harry is known to have the Defence Against the Dark Arts class on top of it all. Y/N knows it, having been a member of Dumbledore's Army. Everybody knows it. But with Snape being the teacher and Y/N constantly caressing his left cheek every time Snape's back faces them, the said subject is somehow kicked out of its place on top.

"Y/N, do you mind?" He tried but obviously failed to ask her to stop in the nicest way he can utter. "I mean, it'll be really hard for us to pass DADA, and eventually NEWTs, if we're both distracted." His voice is hoarse and soft, one way or another. Afraid to hurt the girl beside him and cause a scene. Letting his former Potions Professor know his mischief doing is the least of his priorities for the day. Merlin, at least, let this day finish without anyone knowing.

"Harry, my love, it's not my fault your eyes are distracting. They're the most beautiful green not even the most beautiful forest in the world could compare to."

Once again, his cheeks and ears are on fire for the 37th time this morning. Most of the reasons are from the nonstop compliments he's receiving from the girl. It didn't take much energy from him to not believe all of it. He grew up with the Dursleys, they didn't fail to engrave in his mind his place and worth.

"Care to share in class what you're chattering about, Mr Potter?" The elder snarled in the middle of his discussion, letters extending out of his tongue as per usual. He finally notices, as always, Harry making another noise across the room.

"Nothing, Professor."

The said Professor narrowed his eyes to the duo. He knows, of course, he knows, he was a bloody Potions Professor ever since he accepted the job offered to him at Hogwarts.

"I'm saying this once and only once," he positioned himself in front of the two, now leaning to the Gryffindor boy to let just the two hear what he'll say. "Fix this, or you will face more vile punishment than getting expelled."

The class was dismissed with 50 points taken from Gryffindor. Harry is used to it, even his other fellow Gryffindors weren't surprised anymore. As a matter of fact, as long as he is breathing, infinite points will be deducted from their house.

As they were heading out of the classroom, Hermione gently peels the zonked out Y/N away from her grasp on the poor boy. "Harry, you can't let the other teachers know about this."

"Well, what do you suggest then?"

The next words that came out of her lips are like caffeine to the sleepy heads of Harry and Ron. They could not believe she could say such things. Even Y/N would have been gobsmacked if she just wasn't in a daze.

"Don't go to classes?" Her tone was laced with uncertainty. But she couldn't think of any other option, she'd rather let them take a day off classes than have Harry nor Y/N expelled.

"Can I come with them?"

— 

Harry Potter's Monday was bizarrely different from his usual ones. He has spent the whole day with Y/N trailing behind him like a baby duck. His hand used to be sweaty the whole time with her's but now, it felt more comforting than awkward interlocked with his.

The castle was quiet, with all the students in class, it gave him privacy and away from the prying eyes of malicious gossipers. They couldn’t get inside the Common Room as some 7th years are hanging there knowing they have fewer classes and more time for reviewing for their NEWTs, library; some teachers roam around there, Hagrid’s Hut; knowing Hagrid, as much as they love the guy, couldn’t keep his mouth shut from secrets.

As much as he dreads going to class all the time, it was strange to see the castle this quiet without Ron’s company.

He was throwing pebbles by the lake to pass time as Y/N sat on the ground behind him, making them their Charms essay homework.

The boy studies her features. Y/N wasn’t so bad. Her hair’s tidier than Hermione’s. She was actually beautiful. He would’ve taken her to the Yule Ball when Ravenclaw Cho Chang declined his invitation and if it wasn’t for that Slytherin bloke asking her out instantly - her first ex-boyfriend who Y/N dated a few months back. Her hair tucked in her ear as she focuses on what to write next in her essay. Harry feels bad for making her write his homework but the girl insisted. Guess you’d do anything for the people you love.

He looks back on the lake. Thinking of the people who have loved him did everything they could to protect him, even dying. First, his parents, then Sirius even Jesus, what did he do to deserve this fate. What good will it be if the people he loves are gone?

Two arms wrapped around his chest from behind startled him.

“You’re tense.” Y/N’s hand unwrapped his bloodied hand. He didn’t even notice he was gripping the stone tightly, his scarlet blood staining the object.

“It’s nothing.“ He cranes his neck to stare at the girl on his right shoulder. Her eyes are full of concern and love. Love that he created out of a goddamn potion for a goddamn homework. A love that could never be compared to the love of his parents and Sirius. A goddamn false love. His brows knitted before jumping out of Y/N’s embrace with panic.

“I think we can go inside now.“

The rest of the day consists of Harry, trying to ignore all of Y/N’s pining over him. He tries to remember that all of these are not her fault, there’s nothing to get mad at her about. Running away from her is also impossible as she committed herself to cling to Harry’s arm as if her life depends on it.

Finally, classes are over and dinner is approaching. The two are reunited with Hermione and Ron in a secluded area of a random hallway, as Harry was hoping to get less attention from other students as they got earlier at breakfast.

“How are the love birds?“ Ron teases, seeing their hands locked still.

“Oh, it was majestic, Ron! Harry took me to the Black Lake even though today was a school day. I feel a little rebellious, to be honest.“

“Good hiding spot.“ Hermione commented.

“I’m not going to the Great Hall for dinner. So you two can bring Y/N instead.“

“No! I’m coming with you!“

“Y/N aren’t you tired of my company yet?“

“I could never! I love you.“

Ron snickered pretty loudly in front of them, even Hermione couldn’t suppress a smile.

“Aren't you two just adorable?” the redhead continues to tease.

“Don’t worry Harry, Ron and I will bring you supper instead.“

The day has finally ended and the effects of the Amortentia, as what the favourite book of Harry says, wears off after 24 hours. It was past Y/N’s get up time but fortunately for them, she took her time sleeping exactly until the effects wore off. 

She moans with pain as she tries to sit up from her bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"'Mione?"

"It's me."

"I feel like a full construction site is inside my head . . . and I feel awful. Like, waking up on the wrong side of the wrong bed."

"Do you feel anything . . . unusual? Like, something or particularly someone you want to obsess about?"

The girl looks at her strangely and then at the time. "Bloody heck Hermione, aren't we late for breakfast?"

Clearly, Y/N remembers none from the incident.

Meanwhile, at the Great Hall, Harry is tapping his leg out of anxiousness. If his Amortentia was too strong and didn’t ease away, he might as well pack his belongings and leave Hogwarts voluntarily. His precious book from the Half-Blood Prince has mentioned the cure for a love potion but the ingredients are only held by the Potions Teacher. The horrors there will be once he mentions this to a teacher is unimaginable, he’d rather spend the day with a dazed Y/N than get lectures from a teacher.

“Don’t worry about your girlfriend, mate,“ Ron’s words are muffled from a chicken leg in between his teeth from across him. “They’re here.“

Across the Hall, the two girls are striding towards their place.

“Why are you at my seat?”

“Uhhh . . .” stammering, Ron glances at Harry for help. They were normally sitting beside each other but after the incident yesterday, they thought Y/N would love to sit next to the Golden Boy. “I-I don’t know either,“ just sliding to his side to make room for the two.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?“ Harry asks the dishevelled looking girl in front of him. Both Hermione and Ron - who are sitting side by side - are listening to the exchange intently.

“Honestly, I feel bad. Like, subconsciously, I know this day would be so bad,” Y/N sighs depressingly. “Why, are you alright?“

“Yeah,” deep inside the boy, a strong wave of relief passed him. His body was cold from the nerves, but knowing his Amortentia had finally worn off, those nerves were showered off of him with a warm relieving feeling. “Actually, I’ve never been better.”

“Well, at least one of us has woken up on the right side of the bed.“ she chuckles half-heartedly. Harry felt guilty hastily after hearing those words. It’s all your fault dipshit.

As Y/N is back to sitting beside Hermione, she is also back to her normal self. Talking to her alone about their Charms homework that she never remembers making and some other random stuff that the boys could not give a care about. She was back to not paying any attention to the Golden Boy at the front who she absentmindedly know is staring at her.

Morning supper was finished and the quartet is now in Snape’s classroom. Y/N was back to sitting beside the cute Hufflepuff guy she's been crushing on and Harry is back stuck with his blabbering best friend.

As Snape discusses some more non-verbal spells and the techniques, he takes time to stop rounding the class in front of Y/N who was again, back to her normal self, her focus never leaving the Teacher. He stares at her, looking past her eyes and seeing that his student’s consciousness is back before trudging towards Harry and Ron.

“10 points from Gryffindor,” he grunted under his breath, which actually is the first compliment Harry has ever received from the elder man.

Classes ended and dinner came, Harry finds himself staring at the girl in front of him. She was talking to Seamus, one of their good friends, chatting and laughing with him as if he'd said the funniest joke ever told. The food on his plate has long been forgotten.

"Quit staring, you creep."

Harry looks back at his best friend beside him with a mixture of confusion. "Don't tell me you think I wouldn't notice."

What the boy was talking about, he has no idea.

"When will you tell Y/N?" Again, he replied with a look. "About the incident, of course."

Harry wasn't planning on ending his friendship with Y/N because of his carelessness. He could've just sealed the cookies in a jar or box so no one could see it, but no. He had to display it for the world to see. Hermione disagrees with his plan, of course.

The three of them found the perfect time to be alone in the common room, students are still chatting and scampering about their day anywhere but their dorms. So they decided then, to tell Y/N what happened.

"So that's why I felt bad. Isn't that the after-effects of Amortentia?"

Three heads nodded in front of her, studying her features.

"Well, I'm glad it was you, Harry. Could you imagine if it was Ron?" Y/N visibly grimacing at the thought. "But to be honest, it was all my fault. I should've asked you first before eating it. Thank you for being honest with me, Harry."

It wasn’t really what the boy was expecting as a response. He was anticipating more anger or embarrassment from the girl.

Their usual cycle is back. Y/N was completely Y/N Y/L/N again it's as if nothing happened. The four of them never mentioned the incident again and Harry catches himself being disturbed with that. It made him feel some things like shouldn’t Y/N be shy around me? Or shouldn’t Ron tease us still about what happened? Or shouldn’t Hermione lecture us and watch over us more to not repeat the incident again? These thoughts run through his head as every day passes.

He also catches himself getting extra angrier at the Hufflepuff boy, Y/N’s crushing about, every time they have a Quidditch tournament. Especially that time when she barges in the Common Room pretty loudly yelling at everyone that she got a date with the cute Hufflepuff.

“Y/N can you help me find a good present for Mrs Weasley’s birthday on our next Hogsmeade trip?” He tried, one Friday morning, to get in between them.

“Of course, Harry! But, can we do it after my date?“

“Right . . . you have a date.” Sounding a tad bit more disappointed than he really is.

“But,” Y/N responded with the syllable dragging along “I could tell him to go on the next visit instead and spend the day with my best friend?”

“Oh no, I don’t want you to cancel your date because of me.”

“Harry, I could even cancel my Charms class, Godric knows how much I love that class but, that’s beside the point. What I’m saying is that I’m here for you. Also, we’ve barely hung out anymore ever since you’ve been the, what does Ron call it, ah, the Potions master!”

“Not you too!” he playfully grunted all too loudly earning a laugh from the girl.

"Seriously, I would love to come with you.”

He never thought he'd say this but he misses Y/N. His Y/N, who cannot keep her hands to herself but Harry’s.

And before he could stop himself from getting deeper into his thoughts, he was left astounded. To his knowledge, all feelings he has for his best friend are only platonic but here he is, couldn't stop himself from the thoughts of Y/N. The way she used to have her focus engraved to the boy alone and him alone. It gives him so much angst every time Y/N hasn't given him enough attention for the day.

If this stupid Amortentia incident leads him into any feelings he'd be in deep shit.

Because Harry should not be bothered to get distracted. Quidditch season is starting, he's got new people relying upon his captainship. Besides Y/N has her eyes on someone else and he cannot risk losing their friendship knowing his feelings aren't being reciprocated.

Well there it is, he's already in deep shit.

So when their first game arrived playing against Slytherin, he is rather surprised to see Ron winning them a high rank.

He knows he deserved the glory that's why as the captain of the team, he let them have the post quidditch game party in their common room. The parties were usually lead by the twins, but knowing they're already gone, he didn't know that his fellow housemates apprehended their festivities.

"Weasley! Weasley!"

They watch as Ron finally gets recognition for his own efforts alone. Y/N was nowhere to be found, probably with her new boyfriend, and Hermione was shattered when Lavender Brown smothered Ron with kisses.

The two are in a random staircase trying to comfort one another. He doesn't know who needs more comforting, Hermione or him. Knowing he already lost someone who's never his also shattered his heart.

"How does it feel, Harry? When you see Y/N with another guy?"

To say that he's dumbfounded was an understatement. He couldn't be that careless with his so-called feelings now, is he?

"I know. I see the way you look at her. You two are my best friend."

He dreaded this conversation happening. The Golden Boy has never intended on developing feelings toward his friend. Unlike Hermione and Ron, the two have been having this romantical tension ever since their first year. His feelings toward Y/N is purely conjured by an incident they never dared to speak about. The boy believes that these stupid feelings of him will only break their friendship and Harry's not risking that.

"Why don't you try something?" Hermione is always the one they go to whenever they need help and whenever they're clueless about the next step. But this, this advice of hers is definitely one Harry's scared to listen to. "Hufflepuff boy is still not making any moves yet. You know, you're valid to think about yourself too. You've always thought about the others, you always prioritize us before yourself. You deserve to live too, Harry."

So Harry did listen.

In the Great Hall, he confided himself to sit beside Y/N all the time. Hermione doesn't mind the changes in their seating arrangement as she gets to sit with Ron anyway, so candidly speaking, it is a win-win situation for everybody.

He starts small, playfully feeding her (the way she used to), talking and listening to her talk about life in general. When they were walking towards their class, he would always offer to carry her bag, in which he never really waits for her response. Intermittently inviting her to do homework by the lake alone together. And every time they have Hogsmeade visits, he would buy her sweets at Honeydukes.

And Y/N notices. It didn't really take her long before she sees. She has convinced Hermione one night to tell her of her doings that day she was under Amortentia. Harry's new behaviour towards her has perfectly mirrored the story Hermione has told her.

Little did Harry know, the feelings eventually have been mutuals.

So when the Golden Boy was informed of this Christmas Party Professor Slughorn has assembled, he didn't hesitate to ask Y/N in an instant, too afraid that Yule Ball night might happen again. He was, for once, too grateful to be part of the Slug Club as Hufflepuff Boy was not part of it. Now that just minimizes his crush problem.

He has seen her in a ball gown back in their fourth year for their Yule Ball. But he never got the chance to be the one standing beside her throughout the night but now, tonight, he feels like the luckiest man.

Standing on the top of the stairway from the girls' dorm room was his best friend he never had feelings before until this year. She wasn't wearing the grandest of gown there is but this simple dress enhanced her features. She was walking down the stairs with a smile that gave a huge impact on how she looks. She was literally glowing.

"Hi."

"Y/N," he breathed, completely in awe of what feelings do to people.

He always sees Y/N every day, talks to her and laughs with her. She sees her perfectly like what normal best friends do. But after developing feelings for her, his mind is persuaded that she was the most beautiful person that walked on the planet.

Harry is infatuated. He felt as if he was under some spell. Is this how Y/N sees him, all those times she was under the love potion?

But Harry was sure, a hundred per cent, that this is not artificial feelings. He really likes her.

So after a very successful Christmas date, with Hermione being their third wheel, the two were back from being hip to hip. Harry was glad his Y/N is back. He's been wearing the pride of not having to use a love potion to get her back beside him. Because this time, Harry did not create an artificial love to make the girl he likes, like him back. This time, he did it right. He just needed to wait for the right time and place to ask her.

Christmas has passed and Harry's time is also running fast. Of course, his special assignment with Dumbledore has never left his mind. He would do the subtle talks with Professor Slughorn here and there. He felt as if he's running out of ideas to get what he needed and to make things worse, the Potions Master is already growing annoyed with him.

"Still no luck with Slughorn, then, I take it?"

"Luck . . . That's it. All I need's a bit of luck."

That evening, Harry was away the whole time. He missed dinner but Y/N waited on him in the common room. She knows that the Felix Felicis potion has no limits. Whatever the user's deepest desires, it will help give it to them. Y/N knows that at this very moment, Harry succeeded. She makes sure that there will be someone waiting on him to celebrate it with him.

Harry came back from the Headmaster's office bearing a report about Slughorn's memory with Tom Riddle. There, in the Gryffindor Common Room, he sees her sleeping in one of the tables far back. It was not hard to see her, with the time obviously past bedtime, she was all alone.

With the liquid luck still pumping in his veins, he rushed to her. Kneeling in front of her, the Golden Boy then gently wakes the girl up.

"Harry?"

"Y/N . . . I think I'm falling"

"Falling? What falling? Are you experiencing vertigo right now? Anxiety?"

"Worse than those."

And Y/N, moving on from her sleeping state, was now fully aware of where the conversation was going. She holds his inviting hand. "What is it, Harry?"

"Love . . . I'm falling in love."

Y/N smiles at how adorable the boy is looking right now. His hair is ever so dishevelled and his lips as red as cherry. He was the most oblivious boy she knows. Has only dated one yet here he is, kneeling in front of her. Confessing.

She knows that Felix is helping him with some luck because knowing the sober Harry, he would never be bold enough to say such things. Little did Harry know, he need not some luck as she was all too blessed to have him in her life. Because to Y/N's honest opinion, in this room, she was the luckiest.

"I'm falling in love with you, Y/N."

—

(Shamefully) tagging these amazing ppl: @harryjamespotterxreader​ @harrypotterxx​ @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴄʜᴏɴ | ɢᴇɴꜱʜɪɴ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ ; ᴢʜᴏɴɢʟɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴏɴᴇ - ꜱʜᴏᴛ

Ayo ayo!! It’s been a second hasn’t it? I’m so sorry it’s been a second since I’ve last posted and I do apologize about that ;; I’ve been in a massive writer’s block but also a drawing mood lololol I finally had the feeling to write after drawing a jealous / possessive dragon Zhongli, thus spurring on with where I am now. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did with writing it!

Art: @ko-ffeine​

>> Admin Ko

“What does today’s commission entail for us?”

Soothing and melodic, the former geo archon’s voice swam into her ears as she briefly glanced back at her companion. It was one of those rare moments gifted to her that she was able to complete some commissions for the adventurer’s guild. After all, being a traveling librarian who focused more on knowledge than combat was much more of her strong suit. 

“It should be something simple. Nothing too hard from what I could gather.” 

A gentle smile was given to the tall male as honey amber hues gazed gently upon her form. Respectable and always the gentlemen, Zhongli stood tall and proud beside the adventuring librarian as the pair leisurely explored the plains of Liyue for the commission spot. When he had first met her, the funeral associate couldn’t help but become enamored by her curious filled eyes. The way she always happened to sought him out for knowledge and genuine respectable curiosity for the information he was able to procure for her.

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind, adeptis or not, that the former archon had become extremely fond of the librarian. Some may even compare it to that of a dragon guarding their beloved treasure. 

“Then I believe if we are to finish this in a timely manner, we could finish our discussion about the historical sights you happened to last visit.” 

Upon seeing her (e/c) shimmer with absolute delight brought a sense of peace into Zhongli’s heart as he couldn’t help but fondly pat her head as she flushed at the endearing action. 

Yet the feeling subsided as they neared the commission sight. Immediately her heart plummeted as she felt the color drain from her face at the familiar sight of an unwanted individual. One that she, disappointedly had the honor of meeting whilst adventuring with Xingqui. 

Having sensed her distress, the male stepped forth almost protectively before her as sweet amber hues turned molten with unbridled rage as he kept his stony gaze on the figure before the pair. 

“There seems to be….a tale of strife here. Do tell me what has happened little one…”

“I…It-’s nothing, c’mon. I think Kathryn won’t be mad if we skip this commission.”

“Did they touch you, Little One?”

“Zhongli….”

“Did those disgusting sewer rats touch you?”

She flinched, the sheer anger that enraptured his words had her gulping as she lightly tugged on his sleeve, her voice soft and desperate to not further escalate the situation as she pleaded with the former archon.

“Please…let’s just go…”

“….Very well.”

Sensing the urgency in her voice, the former god conceded as he turned to face her. The anger in his eyes forcibly subsiding as he hurriedly guided her away before the treasure hoarders could notice. Yet unknown to the librarian, Zhongli had made sure to etch the man’s face into his memory. After all, there was information that had to be gathered. 

Upon the return to the colorful and bustling Oceanside city, (y/n) couldn’t help but breath a sigh of relief. Besides the one commission, everything else had ended rather well. With Zhongli’s strong shield and her own combat style, the commissions ended fairly quickly. 

“Thank you again for your help Mr. Zhongli.”

“Nonsense. I take great pleasure in accompanying you wherever you need it, Little One.” 

The pet name brought a sense of fondness to her heart as she hurriedly turned her gaze away from the liquid honey being poured into her very being as she coughed lightly to distract the male from her reddening cheeks. 

“I really appreciate it…well, I’ll be off then.”

“Hm, returning to Mondstat?”

“That’s correct. It’s been a nice couple of weeks out here in Liyue and I’ve definitely learned a lot from everyone here, but I do need to return to my duties as Lisa’s assistant.”

“I see, well I wish you safe travels back. I do hope that you’ll return soon though. Or else I’ll have to visit the land of the free myself. I do have some acquaintances there after all.”

A light laugh escaped her as she playfully nudged the other. A roll of her (e/c) hues showing nothing but an annoyed fondness as she lightly shook her head.

“Goodness, if I wasn’t so busy I’d think that you’re trying everything in your power to stay by my side Mr. Zhongli.”

“And if I was?”

She waited. A building heat in her veins as she awaited for the handsome man to reply with a joke. Instead of that, she was met with an all serious expression— save for the sweet affection dripping from his amber hues as he brought a hand up to lightly ruffle her hair. Immediately stammering out a flurry of words and rushed goodbyes, the librarian hurriedly bowed before scampering off towards one of the teleportation stations. All the whilst ignoring the fond look and deep chuckle that reverberated from Zhongli’s chest as he watched her scurry off.

Once out of sight, the former archon’s expression went from fond to unbridled anger. The atmosphere around Liyue hurriedly reflecting that of the former archon as darkness enveloped the usually bright lands as Zhongli made his way towards the adventurer’s guide. There, Katheryne easily supplied the terrifying male with the information he desired. Already knowing fully well what was to become of the treasure hoarders that dared to touch his treasure. 

»»————-　　————-««

It had been a week since her return to Mondstat, and if (y/n) was being honest with herself the amount of work thrown upon her had her quickly forgetting the distasteful incident she had faced weeks prior to her return. The disgusting feeling of hands and detestable warm puffs of air against her skin. The mere thought of it alone sent shivers down her spine as she shook off the feeling of disgust as she went about her duties. 

“Now…if I’m correct the next thing on the list is to just give reminders to those who borrowed Ms. Lisa’s books…—ow!”

Yet before she could even begin her search for the current occupants of the various tomes of knowledge a familiar figure loomed before her, causing the librarian to bump straight into a firm chest. Before she could even begin her apologies the stench of blood overwhelmed her as she stumbled backwards to meet familiar golden orbs.

“Ah, I do apologize little one, I hadn’t meant to surprise you…”

“…Zhongli?” 

Finally getting a good look at the former archon she couldn’t help but gasp as she surged forward. His usually crisp and clean outfit was marred in blood and tears, yet in her fervent search for nonexistent wounds, she failed to notice the look of adoration that graced his features. Hesitantly, he peeled off his gloves before a large warm hand found it’s way into her hair as he gently petted her unruly locks to hopefully soothe her anxiety riddled form.

“Fret not little one, I merely disposed of some trash on my way to visit you.”

“…t…rash?”

Confused (e/c) orbs met his own as his hand dropped from the top of her head to lovingly cup her cheek.

“Yes. The trash that dared to create discomfort for you when you and Xingqui had stumbled across in your journey.”

The statement itself brought a sense of dread into her heart as she gulped, knowing fully well how insanely powerful the male was, god or not. 

“D…Did you kill him?”

“No. Though I wish I did, remember our contract little one? I will not break it. Though I do admit, an acquaintance of mine is….educating him as we speak. I merely just gave it a stern talking to.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, (y/n) couldn’t help but slump against the blood muddled archon as she lightly swatted at his chest. The horrors of what could’ve become of the treasure hoarder now long gone— though of course that didn’t keep her from hoping that Zhongli’s ‘acquaintance’ would be merciful. 

“….Thank you, but you didn’t have to Zhongli—-”

“I wanted to. No one should ever make you feel uncomfortable, Little one. As long as I am by your side, this will no longer happen. I promise.”

With a small smile, Zhongli shifted his hand down to hold her own as he lightly kissed the back of it.

“Now, will you please show me your favorite places here in the city of freedom?

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (April 29/2021) - Prison Break

It’s finally time for Tommy to break into Pandora’s Vault and kill Dream once and for all. He brings Ghostbur along, and things don’t go to plan.

Jack’s plans have been foiled once again, and he speaks with Foolish, finding out that Foolish is another investigator working on the missing nuke situation. 

Later, Ranboo breaks some news to Phil...

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Tommyinnit

Jack Manifold

Ranboo

Captain Puffy

---

- Foolish continues work on his summer home Nether portal entrance. Sam comes over to judge the block palette he’s using for the floor

- Foolish asks Sam what happened at the Red Banquet. Sam is confused. Wasn’t Foolish there?

- Foolish wants to know what happened after he...you know (died). Sam tells Foolish that he has quarantined the Egg, and it will be locked away shortly. As for everyone else, Quackity arrived and no further casualties happened. No more Egg.

- Sam tells him the build is coming along well and leaves Foolish to think about what he said.

- Foolish isn’t sure if he entirely likes the idea that the Egg is so tough, but at least it seems like a win for now. He’ll have to ask someone later.

- Tommy meets with Ghostbur, Ranboo and Tubbo at the watchtower to gather up everything before the final plan. 

- Tommy and Ghostbur go to the prison together. Tommy will sneak in after Ghostbur using invisibility. 

Ghostbur: “Tommy, I need to ask you...promise -- you promise me they’re not gonna try and -- and revive me, right? They’re not gonna try a revival.”

Tommy: “Let’s not use the r-word, Ghostbur, we’re fuckin’ fine!”

- Friend is there. Tommy suggests they take Friend with them. 

- They go over the items they have.

Ghostbur: “You know, Tommy, whenever I get scared, I always go to Friend. ‘Cause Friend knows exactly how to calm me down, he always knows how to make me happier, and he always knows -- he knows what to do. He knows how to make it better.”

Tommy: “And he’s blue.”

Ghostbur: “He’s really blue!”

- They say some parting words to Tubbo and Ranboo and head to the prison. 

- They bring Friend through the Nether portal entrance, but can’t get him to go back through, so they leave Friend in the Nether for the time being. Ghostbur assures Friend that he’ll be back in a little bit.

- Ghostbur greets Sam at the lobby, Tommy now invisible.

- Ghostbur reviews the waivers and signs his name.

Sam asks the questions:

“When is the last time you visited the prison?”

“I don’t think I’ve been here, but my memory is quite bad.”

“Where is your current place of residence currently located?”

“L’manburg.”

“Do you believe that the prisoner is deserving of being locked up?”

“Um...I guess so...yeah, I mean you guys seem to know what’s right.”

“What are your prior relations with the prisoner?”

“Uh...He exiled me and Tommy to a holiday, uh...he also did bad things before, but I don’t remember them. Is this a history quiz? Am I doing okay?”

- Ghostbur answers the rest of the questions and goes to the locker rooms.

- Sam leads Ghostbur through all the security measures. Tommy sneaks behind, still invisible, trying not to be noticed.

- Ghostbur asks about the courtyard. Sam says there’s nothing in it.

- Ghostbur signs the other two waivers and they reach the lava wall.

- It falls, and Tommy follows Ghostbur across the bridge. Just as they reach the platform to Dream, though, Tommy pulls out the Netherite Axe and Sam shouts at them to stop.

- Sam tells whoever’s invisible to get back on the bridge or else they’ll be killed. Reluctantly, Tommy gets back on the bridge and Sam brings him back over to the other side, giving him a bucket of milk to get rid of the invisibility.

- He sees that it’s Tommy and shouts at him to ask what he’s doing breaking into the prison, that Sam should kill Tommy for violating the contract. 

- Dream calls for Sam to let him out or else he’ll revive Wilbur. 

- Dream disappears for a moment in the panic. Tommy tells Sam to let him back over but Sam tells him to stand to the side.

- Dream reappears and reveals that he has the book in his hand. 

- Tommy and Ghostbur count to ten together to help Ghostbur calm down.

- Sam starts bringing down the lava wall, insisting that he can’t bring back the bridge. 

Ghostbur: “Tommy, you said it would be okay!”

Ghostbur dies and leaves the game as the lava wall falls.

- Sam tells Tommy he’s never coming back to the prison and starts leading him out.

- Tommy tells Sam he’ll kill him.

Sam: “Do it then.”

Tommy: “You know what, Sam, you’re corrupt.”

Sam: “I am not corrupt, Tommy. Everything I’ve done, I did to try and help the server.

Tommy: “You let me die!”

Sam: “You’re so lucky I don’t kill you right now. You should be dead, Tommy.”

Tommy: “Sam. Where’s Ghostbur?”

Sam: “Shut up, Tommy, I don’t want to hear it, I should’ve killed you right when I saw you on that bridge. You should be dead...The only reason you’re not dead is just because -- just don’t -- shut up, Tommy, I don’t want to hear anything else. Go.”

...

Sam: “You did this. You can blame me all you want, Tommy, this is not my fault. You did this.”

Tommy: “Sam. Go to Hell.”

Sam: “Say what you want, Tommy, I don’t care. I don’t care. I told you you weren’t gonna come in here again. I said no one else was gonna come in here. Every single problem at this prison was caused by you! Everything is perfect when it’s just me and him! Nothing bad has ever happened, until you started coming here! You are the greatest security risk on this server for this prison, and keeping him locked up! What were you thinking?! What did you think was going to happen?!”

Tommy: “Stop talking to me! Stop! Let me out, let me out the prison.”

Sam: “This is -- I cannot believe you, Tommy. You should be dead. I should’ve killed you. I should’ve just shot you when you were over there.”

“Tommyinnit, let me make something clear to you. You are never to come to this prison again. And if I ever see you even near the grounds of this prison one more time, I will murder you. I will take your last canon life and then I will hunt the ghost that remains. Do you understand me? I will not let Dream escape this prison, and you seem to be the only one that wants him to be free for some reason, even though we’re -- come on, Tommy. Go.”

- Tommy exits the prison with Friend and meets Ranboo and Tubbo outside. He tells them that Wilbur is back, and Ghostbur is gone.

- There’s only one way to know for sure: Tommy leads them over to L’manhole to visit the place where Wilbur died. 

- They find him standing at the shrine. 

Wilbur: “Oh...hello again.”

- Wilbur asks if this is real, who’s Friend. Tommy tosses him some blue but he doesn’t take it. 

- He steps out and sees the crater, thinking it was his doing, that Tubbo has been running this place. He’s missed a bit. 

Wilbur: “I’m alive! Tommy, I’m alive! I have spent thirteen and a half years in the fucking -- oh, what is this, what have you been making art? Making geometric art on the roof? Track and field?”

- Tommy tells him it was Dream and Techno. Wilbur runs up the hill. 

Wilbur: “Tommy, this is bliss! Oh my god the sunrise -- where’s the sunrise, I need to watch the sunrise -- Oh! ...Tommy, I’ve waited so fucking long. Tommy, I have been waiting for over a decade in mere darkness...and this is my sunrise, this is my sunrise -- this is mine! This is mine, Tubbo!”

- He notices Ranboo. Some new faces! 

- He tells Tommy that he cherished the day that Tommy came and they played solitaire. Tommy tells him it was the worst time of his life, and Wilbur says the same. 

- As for Ghostbur, Wilbur knows him. He asks what Tommy’s version of the afterlife was like. 

Wilbur: “I guess everyone has their own personal limbo. Okay. Tommy, I don’t know if you remember me telling you this, it was quite a few years ago for me now, but...my personal limbo was a train platform, Tommy. It was a train platform. No matter where I looked, no matter where I went, just concrete walls all around, and a tube, with a track, running straight along.”

“It doesn’t matter what I did, Tommy, I could claw at the walls. I could bash on the doors, I could scream for help -- I screamed until my lungs were sore, ‘til my voice was hoarse -- and nothing ever changes, nothing ever comes, nothing ever helps you, Tommy. And then you arrive -- you arrive, and it was great! And then you left. You got on a train and you left!”

“And Tommy, the last thing I saw, was a train pulling in, and there were two people on that train. One man, a desaturated me, came rolling into town, came rolling into Limbo -- my Limbo! He’s in my Limbo! His face was steaming with tears, they looked like they were burning him? I don’t know. But do you know who else was on that train, who was conducting the train, who let me out, Tommy?”

“It was Dream. It was Dream. My hero, my fucking hero, Dream, saved me from that hell! Tommy, I thought I wanted to die. All those -- that decade and a half ago, I thought I wanted to die! I thought I wanted to die, but now I’ve seen what Hell is! Now I’ve seen the other side. Tommy, I’ve been given a new lease on life -- there’s so much I need to do, Tommy, there’s so much I gotta do, there’s so much -- Tubbo, are you coming? And Ranboo...Ranboo...I know so much about you, Ranboo."

- Ghostbur’s memories start coming back to him as he remembers the sewer. Tommy tells him that things have changed, and Wilbur is responsible for all the pain that so many people have went through.

- Wilbur asks him if he’s trying to make him feel like he felt in Pogtopia again. 

Wilbur: “I have this lease on life, and by God, if life’s a fucking horse, I’m gonna ride it, Tommy!”

- Telling them all that he has things to plan, Wilbur leaves them for next time.

Ranboo: “...What the hell did you do?”

- Since the server has been very uneventful, Jack continues on his plan to build a pub

- He’s eager to become a prison guard so that, when Tommy goes back to the prison, he can kill him!

- Jack finds out that Tommy already went to the prison. He’s distraught. All of that was for nothing?

- He doesn’t know where Tommy and Dream are, and those were the only two people that mattered. And now the only person online on the server is Technoblade.

- Jack asks Technoblade if he knows what’s going on with Tommy. Techno says Tommy died, didn’t he? (He’s been quite out of the loop)

- Jack tries to go into the prison but it doesn’t work.Techno points out that the best way to get into jail is to commit a crime. Jack thinks that’s not such a bad idea. Techno recommends arson and/or tax fraud.

- Jack builds a penis on the prison entrance to try and get Sam’s attention. It doesn’t work.

- He notices Foolish wandering around and follows after him. They talk for a bit about Jack’s plans. Foolish brings up the missing nuke. Jack didn’t realize Foolish knew about it.

- They discuss possible suspects for who could’ve stolen the nuke. Foolish tells Jack about him and Tubbo interrogating HBomb. Techno said no, and Quackity said no as well (him and Techno are on good terms), and it couldn’t have been Jack. Foolish suggests Sam.

- Jack doesn’t think Sam’s a good suspect, but he goes along with Foolish’s idea in order to possibly interview Sam later. 

- Ranboo joins the game, still at L’manhole. He starts walking.

- Ranboo doesn’t like Wilbur, since according to the legends he’s heard, he was... “A villain, basically.”

- Phil is online... Ranboo rehearses what he’s going to say to him to break the news as he farms wheat.

- He heads back to the Arctic. Phil is home. Ranboo goes inside, sits Phil down, and tells Phil that Tommy had a plan to go into the prison with Ghostbur and kill Dream.

- Ranboo tells him. When Tommy came out...Ghostbur was not with him. Dream is still alive. Phil asks if Ghostbur got lost, and Ranboo breaks the news that Wilbur has been revived.

- Phil jumps up. This changes everything! He was reading up on resurrection, and Dream had the right book -- and he revived Wilbur, but why? Is Wilbur any different? Phil has so many questions.

- Ranboo doesn’t know if he was normal because he’d never met him. He said he was in a train station for thirteen years.

- Phil is shocked by this. Thirteen years is a very long time to be away. He might not be the same person.

- Ranboo tells Phil that Wilbur thinks the crater is what he did. Phil asks if Ghostbur’s memories are there. Ranboo says that he started to. He knew a lot about Ranboo. Phil has a lot of questions.

- Phil asks where Wilbur is. Ranboo says they saw him at L’manburg, but he’s not there anymore.

- What Phil is scared of is what Wilbur has been thinking about this whole time. People can change a lot in a single year, two years, five years. Wilbur was gone for thirteen. 

Phil: “I don’t know if he’s going to be the same Wil I knew.”

“I need to prepare. I need to be ready for when he eventually comes to see me, because he probably has some questions...if he’s been sitting on what happened for thirteen years, then we have a lot to talk about. I think I know where he might be...I’ll talk to you later, Ranboo.”

- Phil leaves.

- Ranboo steps outside and looks at the blue, suddenly realizing that Ghostbur is gone. But maybe Wilbur’s turned over a new leaf. Ranboo’s optimistic.

- Wilbur seemed to be fond of Tubbo, and Tubbo described how Wilbur had affected him.

- Ranboo looks at his Memory Book and the message the Enderwalk left him. This is what he has to do.

- What he has to do is keep a close eye on Wilbur, and he knows exactly the people who can help him with that. 

- Ranboo heads back to the main area. Antfrost comes running by dressed as Badboyhalo in a maid outfit.

- Ranboo makes his way to the Disruption Hole and drops down to the bottom, where he comes face to face with a group of Endermen. He asks them to do a favor for him -- keep an eye on Wilbur for him.

- Ranboo goes back to the Arctic to create an obsidian mailbox for the Council to give him news. Learning to speak Enderman was a good idea. That was the good thing about the experiments.

- When Tubbo described Wilbur to Ranboo, he said that Wilbur really liked debates. That little courthouse in the sky? Maybe they should fix it, maybe if he does then Wilbur will warm up to Ranboo and like him.

- Ranboo goes to King’s Court and starts fixing it up.

- When push comes to shove, he’s going to have to be on Tommy and Tubbo’s side.

- He realizes he didn’t tell Phil about Wilbur calling Dream his “hero.”

- Ranboo and Tubbo had some fun playing chess while waiting for Tommy to kill Dream.

- Wilbur has no idea about the Egg either.

- Ranboo finishes working on King’s Court and leaves a message for Phil saying that Wilbur considers Dream his hero.

- Wilbur also has no idea about Michael...

- Ranboo goes over to the Egg Room to grab a Netherite block.

- Tubbo logs on and they hang out for a while

- They mess around in the spider spawner, playing with item frame pictures.

- Puffy works on the graveyard and hangs out with Sam, Bad and Eret

---

Upcoming Events:

- Quackity’s business opening

- Dream’s lore video

- Bad’s Egg lore stream

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

[kikilefangirl]

Phantom Love

Erik Lenhsherr x Reader 

(Word Count: 1.6k)

The knock on your apartment door was frantic and jarring.

You remained perched on your window sill, staring out at the busy street. You inhaled, taking a hit from your blunt. There was a light drizzle outside, and you could feel its pull on you and you pushed back. 

You made the water bend to your will, twisting and turning droplets as they fell. Never anything attention grabbing, but just enough to pass the time. As you exhaled, you pulled your knees up to your chest, and rested your head on them. 

Whoever was out there wasn’t invited, and you weren’t keen on visitors at the moment. 

Y/N, you know we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious.

You perked up at the familiar voice in your head. You sighed at the trouble Charles Xavier would bring to your door. He was interrupting your carefully crafted solitude for his shit.

“Fuck off, Charles!” You shouted. Smoke escaped your lips and up into the air, slowly dissipating into nothing. Your eyes followed its path, staring up at your ceiling.  

Charles knocked again. 

“Y/N! It’s Erik!” He called out. You clicked your tongue.

Of course it was. It was always Erik. Blunt in hand, you stalked over to the door. You stared at it with all the rage and scrutiny you had in you, then haphazardly swung it open. 

One hand sat on your waist as you lifted your blunt to your mouth again. Charles and Hank were waiting for you in the hallway. You let the smoke blow in their faces.

The two men coughed and sputtered as you headed deeper into your apartment without ceremony. 

“Y/N. He’s taken a turn.” Hank said. You snuffed out your blunt in the ashtray. 

Running a hand along the walls, you let the cool surface calm your growing anger.  You could feel the water rushing through the pipes. From there, you were connected to the complex plumbing network that made up the whole block. And the rain, too. 

“I could’ve told you he was crazy as hell the day I met him.” You scoffed. You took your hand away from the wall and sat back in your chair.

Charles frowned at your callousness as he stood in the middle of your living room. All around him, your plants and art were splayed across the room, a calming ecosystem in the midst of his panicking. 

“He’s joined up with someone dangerous. He’ll get himself and everyone else killed.” Charles persisted, “Let me show you.” 

Your leg bounced and you rolled your tongue under your bottom lip. Something in your old friend’s face gave you pause. 

“Fine.” You finally relented. You dropped your shoulders and let Charles place two fingers on your temple.

Images flashed through your mind, rapid fire. And it was worse than you could have imagined. It was Erik, well past his breaking point. His face was red and blotchy, his hair was unkempt, and his powers were in full force. The worst was watching how utterly and completely destroyed he looked. It was bottomless. 

You now understand why we need your help, Y/N.

You couldn’t find the words just yet, opting for a small comfort instead. Strategically hidden in the floorboard, you pulled out a velvet box. In it, was a simple diamond ring set in a platinum band.

“What did he get into, Charles?” You asked, almost absentmindedly. The ring was on a chain, sitting in your palm. It stared back at you, laughing at the phantom love you and Erik had. You met Charles’ gaze, final and resolute.

Your expression darkened. On the right side of you, the glass vase filled with fresh calla lilies shattered into a million pieces. Water sprayed everywhere, dowsing Charles and Hank the most. 

The sound sent you tumbling back into the moment— and you lifted your hand in the air. Water rose up from your apartment floor and your visitors’ wet clothes, gradually growing into a ball of water. You twisted your hand, burning the liquid off in mid-air.

“Thank you.”  Hank offered, albeit stiffly. Charles just nodded—he’d seen the full scope of your abilities before. He knew what you were capable of and that was probably the only reason he was really there. 

“A mutant called Apocalypse is planning something, and Erik is playing quite the role in whatever that is.” Charles spoke at last. Your eyes cut back down to the ring, twirling it between your fingers. You swallowed hard.

“He made this ring for me himself. Asked me to marry him with it,” you started, feeling the special groves and roughness of the ring, “I love him more than anything, and I still walked.  But I’ll be damned if I spend the rest of my life picking up after him just ‘cause I love him.”

You couldn’t bite back the bitterness or the love. It was all there, all the time. You found over the years that your relationship with Erik teetered from one to the other, and you went with it every time. 

“Y/N, we need your help.” Charles begged you. You put the ring back in its place. The box snapped shut. You stared blankly at it, then up at Charles and Hank. 

“No.” 

Your voice was barely audible and it was more felt than heard. You couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not to Erik. 

“I didn’t know all of...please, Charles, just leave.” You were shaking, uncontrollably now. The pipes roared loudly behind you.

Hank protested, and Charles said nothing at all. You could feel his steady anger pulse throughout the room. You sparked your blunt again, trying to get a light to no avail. You were grateful when it finally gave. 

“I’ve shown you everything and you still refuse to act against him.” Charles spat out. The venom in his tone was harsh and unexpected. 

“You’ve been warned, and whatever happens you and I know you could’ve stopped it.” He continued. 

Charles gave you too much credit; he had too much faith that you could change anything. You headed back to your window sill, and turned your back to them. You heard the shuffle of feet and a door slam and then nothing. 

You took another hit, hoping to be nothing, too. 

                                                         …

That night, it rained harder than it had in weeks. Partly nature, partly you. 

“I know they were here.” 

You couldn’t look back at him to retort. It was true, and it was your apartment to begin with. Your anger surprised you, making you turn on him faster than either of you expected. You pulled a wall of water straight through the window. The glass shattered and some minor cuts appeared on your shoulder, but it didn’t matter. 

You caught Erik off guard and had him pinned to the wall. He squirmed under your grip, but he could only do so much. The water reached past his neck, successfully keeping him where he was. 

“If you decide to burn the world down, the only thing I’m doing is getting the hell out the way.” 

The words stung coming out of your mouth, probably as much as they stung hearing them. The two of you were doing that thing you did when you broke each other’s hearts again. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder. It was all you were taking with you. 

“You would leave me, again.” Erik pleaded. You stopped dead in your tracks. Mesmerized, you could feel the blood pumping through his veins. Tentatively, you pressed your forehead in the crook of his neck. You pressed your lips onto his, and he craned his neck as best he could to kiss you back. He tried to put every ounce of desire he had for you in that kiss, and you did too. 

Pulling away from Erik was hard to do, but you closed your eyes and did it anyway. 

“When Charles Xavier shows up to my house and I have no defense, no words to give him about you. I sat up here looking like a goddamn fool and you let me.” Your gravelly voice was weak at best.

Erik couldn’t muster a reply worth shit, so he chose silence. In that, a pained expression took over his features. You ran your palm across his face, savoring the laugh lines, the ridges, the stubble. As you passed over his lips, he kissed your hand and you let him. 

“I love you, Erik, and don’t you dare go around thinking I don’t. But whatever Apocalypse has given you, I hope it was worth it.” You admitted. 

His eyes went wide, first with shock, then they settled on something bordering shame. 

You took a deep breath, and gave Erik your back just the same as you gave it to Charles, slipping out the door and into the rainy night.

[literaphobe]

Two questions:

1. What do you feel about CorpsexSykunno ship?

I feel like it's MarkiplierxJacksepticeye all over again, starts out innocent and turns uncomfortable.

(Also I think real people shipping is gross in general)

2. Dream smp makes me so nervous, not necessarily because of any of the members but due to (1) the history of online teams dominated (and lead) by male influencers, (2) minecraft youtube's general history of exploiting fans. I feel like it's going to end badly. You seem to be enjoying it tho, and it's definitely up my alley, should I get into it?

1. Corpse and Sykkuno are not comfortable being shipped! Neither of them are okay with being shipped with ANY of their friends in general, so like, don’t do it, or if u do like. i guess just don’t say anything about it? it’s really not hard to just enjoy their friendship. like it’s an endearing friendship n there’s nothing wrong w liking it. but. nothing more u know. plus both of them have made it clear on several occasions that they’re both straight and my gaydar agrees JFKDKDK like they’re just. Friends. Who care about each other :)

I definitely think it’s not like the markiplier x jacksepticeye situation, because for one u have jack himself telling people not to ship etc etc and also BECAUSE of that u have people actively policing any form of shipping. it’s honestly gotten to the point where it’s annoying but i genuinely don’t think it’s that big a problem, plus the rising popularity of the amigops puts less pressure on one-on-one corpse + sykkuno interactions, since people now wanna see all four of them play games together n not just corpse n sykkuno!

2. I get why Dream SMP would make u nervous. An interesting thing I realized when I started finding out more about people on that server is that there’s marginally more poc on it than I previously thought and also A LOTTTTT more lgbt+ people than i previously thought. Like genuinely why are so many of u so gay. And like that affects the stories being told obviously. Like. I don’t think it’s perfect n I don’t follow EVERY person on the SMP, just like i obviously don’t know everything about every minecraft YouTuber like fkdkdkdk i would say the only people i watch are dream, george, quackity (and even then i haven’t seen most of quackity’s YouTube videos) and like I’ve seen a couple of tommyinnit’s videos Fjdjdjdj and sapnap obviously but he has like 10 videos and i watch Karl’s streams if certain people are on it. yeah i think that’s about it like i do like the feral boys (dream george karl quackity sapnap) and i have seen maybe one or two skeppy videos

Anyway I get ur concerns about online circles dominated by male influencers too. but quite frankly compared to past circles ive seen its genuinely not that bad and also. In terms of holding them accountable, I think mcyttwt makes VERY sure of that (which honestly has devolved into a problem. because privileged haters will dig up stuff on creators that either a. has been addressed properly or b. is just. several years old and i don’t like how minorities are being weaponized. also i cannot stress how little i care that some minecraft YouTuber said the r slur 10 years ago when they literally never do it now. like. i worry so much because so many of these stans who think they’re ‘educating’ are just wearing themselves out n burning themselves out. so many of them are minors too)

but like. the people i am kept up w definitely do take responsibility and accountability. like dream especially gets accused of stuff that’s either fake/not him or something that’s just like out of this world (e.g. accused of queerbaiting. w george. interestingly no one ever accuses george directly of doing this) and no matter what he like addresses it properly and accordingly. like looking at his journey as a creator over the past year he’s grown a LOT and changed so much and matured a lot and i think like. looking at how much he’s blowing up and how much more of a following he’ll gain. I feel much better that it’s him who has this following as compared to. Certain people. And like. It’s upsetting to see how a lot of people have this impression of him that’s objectively false? Due to all the fake stuff that gets spread by haters (most often white for some reason???)? Because genuinely he’s not the creator we need to be so worried about?

Anyway in terms of getting into mcyts in the dream smp. I knew who Dream was because he’s played among us w the amigops a lot n they all like him because he’s just a good natured amicable person. I vaguely knew who george was because of dnf n also people putting his stupid face on my tl all the time. I thought he was pretty n hated that I thought that. I don’t care anymore tho. Like what’s wrong w looking at pretty people. I deserve it. Anyway! I got into their videos through GEORGE first, funnily. I think Minecraft, But I’m Not Colorblind Anymore was the first one I watched and it’s very very good. It’s endearing because it’s George trying out colorblind glasses for the first time n he’s nervous but Dream is there with him to make him feel more comfortable. And also Dream is so happy n emotional (he talks about tearing up at the thought of George being able to see colors properly) and their friendship is just very endearing. The video starts w george taking a colorblind test and we find out he has protan colorblindness (severity: STRONG which makes them crack jokes about how George is SO strong 😤)

anyway these losers. Decide to test the colorblind glasses on colors in MINECRAFT because of course that’s the whole video and it’s really heartwarming to see George learn how colors look like again n Dream just being excited about it the whole time n then George taking the colorblind test again at the end but with the glasses on... n then u go on to watch more george videos but it’s the ANIMAL CHALLENGES. like George Speedruns Minecraft But His Friend Is (Insert Animal, This Animal Is Always Dream) and like...... yeah so I watched a bunch of George’s videos n I went onto dream’s channel out of curiosity

And i was like. What the fuck. These videos are so WEIRDLY named. What the fuck is Finale, Finale Rematch, Grand Finale???? But dream has adhd too and in hindsight I absolutely would’ve titled the videos in a similarly confusing way. Anyway dreams manhunt videos are...... a work of art. I swear to god like even if u don’t know jackshit about minecraft they are very entertaining and weirdly impressive.

Basically in Minecraft Manhunt: Dream has to beat the game, but his friends are there trying to kill him. If they kill him even ONCE, they win n the video ends. He’s allowed to kill them repeatedly though. Manhunt started with one hunter (George, to one’s surprise), then two hunters (Sapnap and George), three (Sapnap, George, BadBoyHalo), and now four (Sapnap, George, BadBoyHalo, Antfrost). The next stage is possibly 5 hunters but idk who is the fifth yet. Anyway the thing that’s so entertaining about minecraft manhunt is:

1) Dream’s Parkour & PVP skills, which he developed and trained over such a short period of time n got REALLY good, it’s satisfying to watch him do risky maneuvers n succeed, the ways he’ll jump from a high place but clutch w either water, blocks, horses, boats, scaffolding, etc, to escape from the hunters

2) Dream’s TRAPS, like he actually does research for possible plans n traps he could do to counter the hunters, since there’s so many of them and only one of him, and he can’t just fight them in combat exclusively, since he’ll lose eventually if he gets ganged up on. I won’t spoil any of his traps, but they’re very good and also very dramatic. It’s amazing

3) The banter and taunting!! The lies and tricks!! They’re all really close so it’s easy for them to crack jokes during a lull where neither party is engaged in a fight, they’re all on the same VC so they can potentially say stuff to trick each other, or they can hear the other team say stuff that gives them an edge

4) The editing. Like the pacing is incredible, and all the bgm used is SO good at setting the atmosphere n making things more tense n exciting etc. like “dream’s manhunt music” is honestly a meme at this point but he actually unironically uses it and it unironically makes the videos better. Also dream edits all the manhunt videos by himself!! he doesn’t hire editors to do it for him or anything

idk what else to say but yeah I watch most of dream n george’s YouTube videos and they’re in most of each other’s videos and I like their dynamic a lot!! Especially since they still have not met in real life but already know they want to like live together (forever, according to George), and it like reminds me of the friendships I have because most of my close friendships have been made online. And like. They remind me that online friendships aren’t actually inferior. That’s it :) sorry this is so long

[poutyhannie]

warnings: tsundere!minho, boxer!minho, fem!reader, mentions of d*ath, bl**d, kn*ves, violence, smut, fluff, angst :), dark cold minho finds a soft spot in y/n :))))

word count: +8k

The blisters on your hands burn as you placed the cash register on the shiny white counter. Finally, your life’s goal to begin a small cafe in town was complete, but this was only the beginning. Even the ache in your feet and back from the boxes and produce you carried in last night couldn’t shake the beaming smile you greet the empty store with. Golden light streams in from the freshly washed windows, bouncing off the racks of freshly baked breads and pastries. These beams of light must be the physical representation of the heavenly aroma of baking goods and you fill your lungs with it, content and elated at the prospect of a new chapter.

Among the normal baked goods, everyday items were placed around the counter, such as umbrellas and first aid kits. It was a small tactic to make a bit more profit or a thoughtful gesture, just in case customers needed something other than coffee and a croissant.

If you didn’t close the door soon, the cold morning gusts of wind would stale and harden the goods, but this display of openness was necessary to garner new customers so you quickly hopped from behind the counter to cover the goods with glass domes which served as lids.

The people of your city had been relatively friendly, spreading the word of your grand opening. Thanks to this, streams of customers filled your lavender-themed shop before the morning and evening rush. When the sun’s golden shine began to dissipate to cold blue, the goods were dwindling on the shelves, prepared to be restocked for tomorrow.

The front of your lavender purple apron was streaked with flour, chocolate, and jam as you wiped the counters of the same substances. The giddy excitement in your bones contradicted the cheerfully ticking clock on the wall that told you it was late into the night. When did the day spin away from you so quickly? Would all the days at your shop be this enjoyable? Sighing contently, you settle on one of the comfortable white chairs, finally feeling the pinching ache in your feet. You’d have to get employees once you made enough revenue, you were bound to only get more customers from here on out. Maybe you’d hire cleaners once a month to do a deep clean? 

Thoughts prospective of your future and the future of your shop were interrupted when the door swung open—you were concerned the force would shatter the glass door itself. In stalked a darkly clad man, his back was turned to you as he quickly scanned the shelves and displays of your shop. He’d ignored the ‘closed’ sign. Still, one more customer couldn’t hurt. “Welcome,” you greeted warmly, feet aching as you walked back behind the counter. The customer gruffly rolled your word off. 

The gloves on his hands didn’t have fingers and when he placed a small first aid kit and sandwich on the counter, you could see the beds of his nails were bleeding. However, when you saw his face, you realized his wounded fingers were not priority. A blistering red patch scored his cheek under his dark eyes. There was a fresh cut on his left cheekbone that matched his bust eyebrow and lip. At the state of his lip you quickly reached over to add a tube of chapstick to his order. “Don’t need it,” he grunted but made no move to put it back. “Its on me,” you explained, ringing him up, ignoring the roll of his eyes. Though his hoodie was pulled down, the sweaty strands of black hair were still visible, slightly blocking his vision. “Take care,” you offered him, placing the bag into his hand. The empty night was louder than him as he exited your store.

A month in and you’ve managed to perfect the flower-shaped croissants, exploiting the layers of dough and butter croissants naturally proved to achieve petal-like flares. Proudly, you arrange them on a baby blue decorative plate, fixing the eyebrow raising price tag in front of it. People would have to accept that baking was another type of art and that your croissants tasted as good as they look. Many customers have become regulars, your yellow post it note stuck on the cash register denotes what they usually get, just a courtesy. New people enter your store everyday, sometimes stopping to pose for pictures in front of the arguably aesthetic display case filled with your best work. A swell of pride always elates you and you remind them to tag the cafe in their social media posts.

Its because your shop has a softer, pretty theme that you’re surprised when you find yourself writing down what the bruised man from before would always order. Though you formally close at seven, you leave the light on as you close down for him because he usually enters at nine. At the end of every week, he replenishes his first aid kit, sporting nasty red, brown, and purple wounds on his face every day. His placement of the bandaids and salves are sloppy at best and as the daughter of a doctor, you can’t help but stop him before he disappears into the inky night once again. The accusative glare he shoots at you leaves you stuttering. “What do you want?” His words and tone almost have you denying that you even called him in the first place but you wonder why he’s always beat up and why he’s so cranky. “You’re not putting on the bandages correctly.” “What would you know about it?” “My dad was a doctor—here, just let me fix it for you.” You’re released from his heavy glare as he thinks over your proposal, eyes flitting around your shop before landing back on you. “Just make it quick.”

He’s never sat in one of your shop’s white chairs and he shifts on plush cushion, you across from him, preparing the first aid kit. No sound escapes him as he rips off his existing bandaids, though just watching him makes you want to wince. The used bandages are shoved into his pockets and he slouches in front of you. The wounds this time congregate around his jaw, a nasty blue-green bruise spreading from his chin to the end of his jaw. Cuts and rug burn-like patches are scattered around his face and you can’t picture what he’d look like without a black eye.

In the name of being prepared, you keep an extensive first aid kit under your counter. You gingerly smear the bruise with the respective salve before dousing the cuts with alcohol. All the while, the damaged man in front of you says nothing, but glares at you through his shaggy bangs. Though scared to anger him him, you softly push back his hair to reveal another bruise above his left eyebrow.

The tense silence tears at you and you blurt out, “Have you not met any left handed people? They’re always on your left side.”

“More like they haven’t met me.” 

“You’re left handed?” 

“Ambidextrous but they still never see it coming,” is his gruff reply. 

Slowly, as you spread salve on his cuts you put two and two together. “You’re a fighter.” 

“Boxer.” Though his uncomfortable silence had previously left you at a loss for words, you quickly get back into your old habits, “You’re a boxer? That’s why you’re always beat up. You must not be very good if you’re always getting hurt. Are you paid to fight other people or is it based on bets? You’re really young to be boxi—” 

The coldness in his eyes as they snap up to you has your words choking in your throat. “I let my opponents have a semblance of victory before I beat them. Its based on bets so I get more profit if viewers place more bets against me.”

He rises and you follow him to the door. “I-if you…when you get injured, just come here. It’ll heal faster if I tend to it.” 

A nod is all you get but its more than the silence you’ve been struck with by him before so you’re not complaining.

He holds you on your offer, coming in every night from nine to midnight. You don’t mind lingering at your shop longer because his scuffed boots find their way into your store every night. You learn that his name is Minho and that his boxing nickname is Lee Know. The air between you has melted from cold tension to quiet casualty. Though your heart clenches in wariness every time his battered face shows up, it also pangs in empathy for him. Empathy that he refuses to accept.

The glint in his eyes that he regards you with every night informs you that he scowls upon your empathy, the pout on your lips as you concentrate to clean his wounds and the worried laced in your voice as you ask him about his upcoming matches. “I’ve been preparing for the season to start. If it goes well, I can progress past my current bracket,” he explains and though his voice has been exclusively monotone, if you strain your ears hard enough, there’s a trace of hope and anticipation there. 

“You haven’t been doing matches this entire time?” You exclaim, dumbfounded that this amount of damage has been from practices and preparation for the real thing. 

For a passing second, everything in his demeanor except his voice calls you an idiot before he softens, realizing you know nothing about his underground life. “If we had matches all year, we’d kill each other in no time. No,” he laughs humorlessly, shaking his hair out. Its grown a bit longer than his eyes but you’ve secured it back, clearing his face up with a pink fluffy headband he scoffed at. “The lower division guys have up to 40 matches but the really good ones only have two or three.” 

In the beginning of your late night first aid sessions, you’d timidly ask Minho small talk questions and he’d gruffly respond with a word or two, but never a full sentence. Now, you ask him because you’re genuinely curious about his profession. “How many do you have? Do you know who you’ll go against?” 

“Twelve. Edging on the more professional bracket but still not there yet. Opponents are rolling; I don’t know until a few days before and even then, it’s not necessarily helpful. Just need to touch up on their weaknesses.” 

“What’s your weakness?” You ask him, dabbing some burn salve on the glove burn stretching over his cheekbone. At the silence stretching across the two of you, you hope your tone came across as light and playful, not offensive. Though you were acquaintances with the boxer, you couldn’t yet bring yourself relax around his dark gaze. 

“You’ll have to figure it out.” A giggle rises in your throat, maybe a nervous habit or maybe because you found him interesting.

An exhale eases out of your lungs as your legs give out, throwing yourself on your bed. The soft blue glow of your bedside lamp washes the room in a calming light but exhaustion refuses to let you bask in it. Soon, your eyelids are drooping and back is pressing into the sheets.

Danishes. 

A harsh, ringing voice rips through your head; you bolt up, pulling your neck at the speed and abruptness. Gasping, you fling your shoes on, realizing that you left the dough proofing. If it were any other dough, you’d roll over and shrug off the loss of a batch, but this dough was made with premium French artisan flour that a kind customer had gifted you. Somehow, the panic in your throat wards off drowsiness and you speed down the empty streets. Bursting into your store, you rush to remove the dough from the bowl and knead them into small loaves.

Based on how the dough smells, you don’t believe it over proofed so the worry loosens your throat allowing you to inhale a yawn, sliding dough into the warm oven.

The chairs in your cafe are plush but nothing compared to your bed. It’s making you slowly regret coming back tonight.

A loud bang rings through the silent air and immediately fear grips your heart which is thrumming in your throat. Maybe its your drowsy state that has you flinging into panic at the noise. The rubber soles of your shoes slowly squeak over the tile as you move over to grab a knife you use to score the bread. Its size won’t scare anyone off, but its sharpness is one to be reckoned with. From your fuzzy, sleepy memory, the sound came from the small storage room so with white knuckles gripping the knife, you creep over. In your rush, had the door been carelessly left open? The storage room door is ajar but you can’t see anything inside. Relaxing the slightest bit, you nudge the door open slowly, entering on tip toe. Though dimly lit, you can see that the small room is empty and relief floods you, though not completely ridding you of the former panic—your heartbeat is still in your throat.

When you return to the main room with the counter, tables, and register, cold, blinding panic returns tenfold. There’s three dark figures in your shop, crouching next to the counter, quickly stuffing their bags with the money stashed away. In a flurry, you press your back to the storage room door, cursing yourself for leaving it in there and at the front door which you left wide open.

Your mind whirls, trembling with fear and apprehension. Where was your phone? You couldn’t possibly stop these men but would the cops come in time?

“What the fuck are you bastards?” A voice rings out. Harsh. Cold. You don’t dare turn the corner to look.

A muffled cry pierces the tense air, strained grunts, and sounds of impact following in succession. There’s a loud cracking sound and a wail that raises your goosebumps and you slink back further into the shadow, hoping that whatever is happening behind the wall will leave you alone. Breathy curses and threats are thrown before visceral, bodily squelches and groans silence them. Digging your fingernails into your palms to get your hands from shaking, you tremble in the corner, even after the sounds have been reduced to low, pained moans and a pair of footsteps. They wander around, heavy and assured before edging closer to where you’re hiding. You don’t dare breath, but you don’t think breath would come even if you asked it to.

“Y/n?” At the sound of your name, your eyes grow wide, though you’re still frozen in place. The footsteps round the corner and you’re met with scuffed black boots and ripped black jeans. Squeezing your eyes shut, your mind whirls as you remember staring at those boots, tending to wounds. His wounds.

When your eyes fly open again, he’s crouching in front of you, face significantly less wounded than you’ve seen it. The sound of your knife clattering on the tile startles you into flying into his arms. He makes uncomfortable, awkward noises above you, hands floating above your back as his butt smarts from the force you knocked him over with. “Did you beat them up?” You voice is shaking and you’re either on the verge of tears or already crying into his black hoodie, filling your mind with his deep sweaty musk, “I didn’t know what to do.” 

“Yeah, its not that big of a deal though. Just call the police,” he pushes you off of him with surprising gentleness, seeing that his hands are stained with the blood of those three men. On his feet in a flash, he drops a bag onto your lap. “Here is your money.” 

There’s no proper reason why your hand shoots out to pull him from leaving. Maybe it’s because the would be thieves are still laying in your store, maybe its because you want to keep inhaling the warm scent he exudes, maybe it’s because the thought of being without him tonight scares you. “The police won’t believe that I did this,” you whisper, hoping that that will ward off his need to leave. It’s impossible to interpret what the dark look in his eyes are—you can never seem to read his thoughts. 

Only his verbal confirmation has relief flooding your chest, “Fine.” 

After tying up the perpetrators, Minho settles half an arms distance away from you, a waft of his musk filling your nose as you think you hear the piercing screech of sirens. “Were you just gonna let them take your cash?”

You were wrong. His eyes can deliver something other than blank darkness: incredulous accusation. The disbelief and an audible scoff in his question has you curling up tighter, burning with the implications he poses. You’d let these men reap the fruits of your labor; you wouldn’t try to stop them. 

“Y-yeah,” you attempt, trying to concoct a reasonable excuse that would get his disapproving stare from burning off the side of your face. “There were three of them, so of course I’d let them go.” 

A scoff rips from his throat, clawing at the back of your neck. “This won’t do. You know,” he turns to you, one eyebrow raised, “this’ll just be the beginning. Are you gonna be prepared to defend this shop, bub?” 

You bristle at his know-it-all attitude and the patronizing nickname, “Why do you care? And why were you even here this late at night?” The pale yellow suggestions of sun peak from the inky black sky as you’re reminded that you’ve gotten no sleep. Ignoring your questions, he rises, adjusting his jeans and walking over to the policemen now at the glass door of your cafe.

Even after the robbers were detained and police left, he remains, his dark scent permeating the air around you. “Listen,” he starts, hands shoved into his pockets and the regular scowl on his face, “I was just walking back from practice and saw them in here. And you need to get protection around here.” 

“And how would you suggest that?” You throw back, fueled with remaining sass. A shrug. He turns away, walking to the door. Habit says he’ll ignore you, disappearing into the lightening city horizon, but he stops, hand resting on the glass door. You slap his hand off of it, but his hand’s grimy residue clouds a part of the door already. 

His shoulders drop in annoyance before he grunts, “I could teach you how to defend yourself.” Mouth agape and eyes wide, you repeat his words, “You’d teach me how to defend myself? Isn’t your season starting up soon?” 

His gaze drops, you think he’s taken aback at your remembering the dates of his season. “Coach doesn’t want me sparring. Get healed or some shit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m offering because it’ll be good for me to refresh on the basics and the next shop is twenty minutes away. I’ll be inconvenienced if this shop closes anytime soon.” The thought of Minho scowling down at you as a personal defense teacher scares you, but the vivid memory as you clutched the knife terrifies you. 

 “When are you free?”

**

“No, widen your feet; squat more, bub,” Minho lets out an exasperated sigh and slips behind you, hands on your hips to adjust your stance in front of the punching bag. The yellow lights overhead and the pale wash of moonlight are the only things illuminating your ‘self defense’ classes. With as much punching as you’re doing, you think it’s more of a boxing lesson than self defense.

“One.” 

Your left glove strikes the bag. 

“Two.” 

Right hand. 

Minho repeats these instructions, the two words seemingly molding together into a mash of sounds. As his cold voice continues to command you, the burning in your lungs intensifies and your thighs, arms, and stomach ache, screaming at you to stop. _Give up. _ A voice lures you, reminding you of how your knees shake and eyes sting from sweat. “I can’t,” you whimper, hands retracting as you meet Minho’s disapproving stare. It makes you avert your gaze, the burning in your cheeks from something other than physical exertion. 

“I’m heading home then.” Scoffing, Minho slings his bag over his shoulder, nodding back to you, “see you tomorrow.” 

Dejected, you fumble with the straps of the boxing gloves Minho gave you, unable to grasp them when both your hands are cocooned. The usual mocking sarcastic glint in Minho’s eyes were replaced with disappointment and his abrupt departure burns your chest. Maybe you should have pushed yourself more? Maybe he shouldn’t have.

“One, two. Don’t lean into it. One, two. Rotate your wrists. One, two. Guard your jaw, he’s gonna knock you out.

“Keep going, Y/n,” interrupts the usual ‘one, two’ and your teeth grit, pulling your elbows in and snapping your punches. Minho’s lips lift from the corner of your eye and this spurs you on, extracting energy from a place you didn’t know existed. Fueled with anger—anger at yourself for having given up last session, anger at Minho for pushing you—you pummel the punching bag, breathing harshly as the sound of slapping synthetic leather fills the musky room. 

“Okay, break.” The ground collides with your body as your legs give out under you. Your breathing must have been uneven, because there’s white patches in front of your vision. After blinking them away, you’re met with Minho’s outstretched hand offering a water bottle. His face is turned away from you, but his cheeks rise, insinuating a smile. With a breathing ‘thanks’, you practically inhale the water.

“Slow down, bub. You’re gonna puke.” 

Laying a hand over your spazzing heart, you give him the best glare you can muster, “No thanks to you, Lee Know.” He smirks at your use of his boxer nickname, sprawling on the ground next to you. 

“Y’know,” you gasp in between breaths, “I don’t think this is self defense, this is just offense.” 

Minho’s head tilts in acceptance, tongue poking out to swipe at his bottom lip. “No, what you’re doing is not boxing if that’s what you’re implying.” 

“Oh yeah?” You tease, pulling a face at Minho, “I’m in boxing gloves, attacking a poor boxing bag.” 

The veins in his forearms strain as he leans back onto his hands, “I could show you real boxing, bub. I have a match next week. I can get you in.” Your heart clenches at the thought of seeing the blood and gore you’ve seen on Minho’s face being made. He senses your uneasiness and leans forward, hand brushing over your knee almost…timidly? “You don’t have to come, but you can. I’ll text you the details,” he shrugs, “show up or don’t.”

**

Maybe you shouldn’t have worn a pastel purple skirt to a boxing match but it’s too late to turn around and change. At least you had the sense to wear safety shorts and sturdy combat boots. Yelling can be heard in the distance and while you’d usually flee from sounds like that, you find the GPS on your phone leading you right to it. 

The barbaric shouts are deafening as you stand in front of a grey building. A man, who’s arms are the size of your shoulders guards the door. “You lost, little girl?” He asks gruffly, but he doesn’t seem sarcastic. 

“I-I um,” you clear your throat, “Lee Know has a match here?” Your statement comes off more as a question and you wince at how weak your voice sounds. 

The bearded guard nods, his black shirt straining as he crosses his tree trunk forearms in front of him. “So you’re the lady he’s been babbling on ‘bout.” A blue tattoo stretches on his forearm as he opens the door, a wave of stench, heat, and yells ramming into you. Thanking the man quietly, you slip through the door. It’s an arena, like a football stadium but scaled down significantly. Burly and wiry men alike fill the seats, howling like dogs. You pull your sweater closer to you and your skirt down. The lights and sounds whirl in front of you as you try to spot Minho in the crowd. Further up, closer to the boxing ring, there’s a familiar head of black hair and broad shoulders. You hope it’s him as you squeeze past the admittedly scary crowd of men.

Tapping his shoulder, you breathe in his musky scent. It almost cancels out the stale rotting stench around you. When he turns, his eyes are dangerous and dark—you almost stumble back—but when he sees you his eyebrows shoot up. “Didn’t think you’d come,” he shouts over the chaos, “here,” he pulls your shoulders into his chest, shielding you in his arms as he begins to weave through the crowd, “my match is in a little bit so I was gonna head to the back.” 

The screams are muffled now as Minho closes the door to a small, empty room. He slouches on a chair, gesturing you to do the same. “It’s always so fucking chaotic out there. I can never focus before a match. I can never think,” he mutters, mostly to himself, so you freeze, not wishing to distract him, “My mind is always somewhere else and I can’t remember anything. It’s like nothing else but my nerves exist.” 

Only after a beat of silence, after Minho turns his wide eyes up to look at you, do you realize he was talking to you. “But you’re so good. You’ve been training all year,” you blurt out, not pausing to think about your words, taken aback at how innocent and lost his eyes look, “isn’t it like muscle memory?” 

He groans, you worry you’ve said the wrong thing, “Yeah, I know but it’s just so fucking frustrating, bub.” 

Smiling widely, you tease him with a nudge on his shoulder, “You’re gonna be great. Plus, you’ll have me cheering you on.” Awkwardly, you make punching movements, “I’ll take your opponent down if you can’t.” 

That’s the first time you hear Minho laugh. A genuine, hearty laugh. Not a scoff or a mocking tease. It’s warm and sweet and surprisingly high. His eyes crinkle, still smiling at you when he stands, “Okay sounds like a plan.”

Seeing the dark glare Minho holds his opponent with as they circle the ring, you understand why Minho sports the look so often. It takes you off guard; you feel like you haven’t seen these dark eyes in a while. A strong swallow of spit tightens your throat. You blink, his opponent strikes, mitt slapping against Minho’s blocking forearm. Gasping a breath, you freeze in apprehension as the crowd around you roars to life. The sharply muscled, bald man circling Minho does not lack in speed; the blurring blue of his mitt once again slams against Minho’s forearm. The bald man tenses, charging at Minho with a flurry of attacks. Desperation clenches your throat as you will Minho to do something. He ducks his head behind his forearms, abdomen clenching at every blow inflicted to him. Soon mutters calling Minho a ‘punching bag’ and a ‘free win’ crawl into your ears. Anger flares in your chest—you know how good Minho is at fighting. Why isn’t he doing anything? However, Minho’s wiry muscled, grey haired coach standing beside you is stoic, a stark contrast to the screaming audience, hurling saliva with every abusive word they target at Minho.

“Why isn’t he doing anything?” You whisper to yourself, too engrossed in the match to care about the raw vulnerability in your voice. The bald opponent retreats, panting as Minho continues to circle him. 

Minho’s coach growls, a smirk breaking his expressionless wall, “It’s over now.” Wide eyed, you turn back to the match, taking in the sweaty, hunched—you’d daresay weary—shoulders of the bald man, heaving with pants. A relief spreads a smile across your face. Minho had been doing something. The red boulder of Minho’s mitt slams into the side of the man’s head, jerking his neck awkwardly, hurling him into stumbling, expression blank shock. An electric wave of excitement shoots through you. Minho is merciless, unwilling to let his staggering opponent recover, pummeling him with firmly resounding attacks. You recognize some basic moves he’s taught you, only now do you realize capabilities of those punches put into action.

The red of Minho’s mitt is soon darkened with the seeping blood of his opponent and the fickle crowd now screams Minho’s name, invigorating him, causing his blows to land harder, until the bald man is thrown onto the blood spattered floor. The referee slams the ground thrice and the crowd erupts into a cacophony of cheers and groans.

A satisfied smirk cuts across Minho’s barely harmed face as he unfurls his sweaty arms in victory, bathing in the cheers of those who bet on him and the cries of those who bet against him alike. His coach turns to you, a satisfied twist to his lips, a wad of cash already in his clutched, calloused hand, “This is why he wasn’t doing anything, sweetheart,” he says, shaking the money, “Minho’s a tough kid but he’s also a smart kid.” After a pause, his coach shifts, frowning in, “You’re the first person Minho’s brought to a match. Nobody else. Take care of him,” he warns.

Minho’s panting presence behind you raises goosebumps on your neck. You turn to see his glistening bare abdomen as he towels himself off with a sweat rag. Bruises bloom on his forearm and but he ignores them, receiving the majority of the cash from his coach.

“Let’s get out of here before some ass crack takes his faulty betting out on me,” he says, resting a hot hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the back exit, ignoring jeering crowd members. The empty night greets you and he nods to a black car, gruffly explaining, “You walked here, right bub?” 

“Yes, also,” you gush, “that was pretty cool." 

He looks away, deflecting with, “Yeah, get in.” 

“Why do you do it?” You ask, strapping your seatbelt on and retrieving the makeshift first aid kit from your purse.

The car murmurs to life and Minho’s voice is surprisingly quiet and soft, “I got into a lot of fights up to high school so coach came up to me and asked me if I wanted to make it a profession,” a pause and Minho murmurs, “he took me in, taught me how to channel the joy I got from fighting. Turn it into something better. Focused.” 

“He seems really proud of you,” you observe, leaning over to rub a salve onto his shallowly cut lip. “You should put on more chapstick, Minho. Where’s the one I gave you?” 

Under flash of passing yellow streetlights, you can almost make out a dusting of pink on Minho’s cheeks. “I lost it,” he admits, tilting his head slightly to give you better access to his lip.

Sighing, you settle back onto the carseat. “I can take better care of you when we get there.” Minho’s eyes are wide, looking back from the road to you, “Where?” 

A clench of nervousness holds your gut, but you shrug, “Yours, mine, I don’t care.” 

It’s Minho’s turn to be flustered; he nods quickly.

**

Minho’s apartment is bare, only cluttered with various trophies and medals, a ground table, a tv, and a small couch. You set down his bag, you insisted you carried it and Minho opens a cabinet, retrieving the first aid kit. He settles on the couch, legs crossed tightly underneath him. For some reason, its stupidly endearing. The alcohol on his cut stings and Minho’s eyebrow furrows in pain. “Y’know, you don’t have to be tough around me, Minho.” 

His eyes are blank, “What do you mean?” 

“You barely let yourself feel pain, you’re always glaring at something, and you never open up about anything. You don’t have to be like that around me, Minho.” 

An eyebrow lifts and he tilts his head to the side slightly, “I told you about coach,” he offers. 

You nod slowly, “Yeah, that’s true. I guess, I just like seeing you smile,” you shrug, “that’s all.” 

Suddenly bashful, Minho looks down, biting his lip to repress a smile.

“That’s what I mean!” You exclaim, placing your hands on his cheeks to cradle his face, forcing him to look up at you, your heart in your throat. He groans, an endeared smile finally breaking out, “Quit being so fucking cute and maybe I could think enough to talk properly to you, bub.” 

Burning excitement fills your chest and you pose with a peace sign, “You think I’m cute?” 

An exasperated roll of his eyes is all the answer you need. “Well,” you say, patting his head, “you’re very cute too.” 

This time, his scoff is soft, “I’m a boxer.” 

You press a bandaid over his cut, “Yes, a very adorable boxer who needs to smile more.” He breaks out into laughs, filling you with bubbly warmth, gazing down at you with eyes that are anything but dark and dangerous. It’s warm and tender.  He is.  Sobering up, Minho tilts his head slightly, his eyes traveling down to your lips. 

Anticipation fills your chest and your mind whirls, not knowing what to do so you blurt out, “Oh yeah! Chapstick,” leaning over, you retrieve a tube, “Here.” Minho, however is unfazed by your awkwardness and cocks an eyebrow, suddenly confident, nodding to the chapstick, “Put it on for me.” 

Its your turn to blush, but you do still, not realizing that this isn’t clear chapstick. Its only when you pull away do you realize his lips are painted a pretty shade of pink. Clapping in joy you shove your phone camera in his face. “You’re so pretty!”  

Stuttering in surprise, his eyes bug out but he doesn’t make any move to wipe it off, “The fuck?” 

“So pretty!” You exclaim, holding his face to put more on, laughing at his shocked expression.  Minho pulls back, tumbling you with him until you’re staring down and all your laughter has been swallowed. Silently, his hand travels up to the back of your head, gently pulling you towards his freshly moisturized lips. Smiling because of nerves, you don’t need his hand to guide you.

His lips are surprisingly soft but perfectly sticky with your pink chapstick. Almost timidly, his tongue caresses your bottom lip and you whimper as he eases your lips apart. Saliva gathers at the corners of your mouth and your arm cramps from holding yourself up over him but he’s so gentle and careful with the kiss you don’t want to stop. Your arm gives out and you press against Minho, snaking your fingers into his slightly sweaty hair. Panting, Minho pulls back as he gazes up at you, his eyes wide and sparkling. “I don’t want to go too fast, Y/n,” he whispers, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone.

Brazen with unfound confidence, you pout at him, “No. Be mine now.” Minho smirks, laughing softly as his eyes crinkle up, “Okay, okay,” he reassures you, pulling you down to lay on his chest, “I’ll be yours.”

**

“Don’t you dare do that, Y/n. I’ll sue you,” Minho threatens, eyes wide but voice joking.

Giggling, you ignore him, continuing to create a new dessert of your own design called the ‘Minho Mochi’. It’s a soft peach mochi covered with waffle cone. “No, I take inspiration from you and plus,” you mention, “you said yourself that the juxtaposition of the soft sweet mochi and the shell of the waffle cone was good.” 

“Yeah,” he groans, plucking a mochi ball from the counter and popping into his mouth, “but that was before you decided to use my name for it, bub.” 

Reaching up to clean the potato starch residue on his lip you correct, “I made the mochi with you in mind first, not the other way around.” Minho mumbles half heartedly, turning away to smile but you tug his arm. He’s blushing and grinning softly; your heart clenches in adoration. 

“I can make you one for every match you have, would that make you feel better?” 

Minho laughs, bringing your potato starch and rice flour covered hand to nuzzle his cheek, “Fine, I guess this is what I get for having girlfriend that owns a purple bakery.” 

“Hey!” You deny, pulling back, “This is lavender, not just purple.” 

“Yes, yes,” he agrees quickly, tugging you into him. “I’m covered in flour,” you protest into his chest, his deep musk a relieving break from the sweet scent of mochi. You feel him press kisses to the top of your head as his arms tighten around you so you relax into him, circling his waist with your arms.

**

“You should really decorate this place, Min,” you comment, gesturing at his bare apartment. You’re comfortably draped across his shoulders from the couch as he sits on the floor. He looks back from the TV, eyes wide and a puppy-like pout graces his now well moisturized lips, “What do you mean? I have my trophies as decoration.” 

Groaning you protest, “No, those are trophies. You need proper deco here, it’s just sad.” 

A familiar, flirty smile spreads across his face and he winks at you, “You’re prettier than any other decorations I can get.” 

Though you feel your face burning, you roll your eyes at him, trying to suppress the smile bubbling in your chest. He gets up to sit next to you on the couch. Still smiling, he pats his lap, making your stomach jump in excitement. Settling down on his thighs, you play with the collar of his shirt, avoiding his stare. He ducks his head, forcing you to look at him. “Why you shy, bub?” 

“I really love you, Min.” 

His eyes are soft and you don’t expect him to say it back. You’re just content that he knows. 

“I love you too, bub.”

**

You’re at Minho’s apartment basically every day for the past year and today’s no different. The soft beating of his heart resounds in your ear while the other listens to the calming voice of the audio book you guys are working through. The plot follows a personified kitten who tries to find her place in the world that is too cruel for her. Despite the objectively morbid theme, this part of the story is hopeful—the kitten has found friends and feels at home. 

When the narrator concludes the end of the chapter, Minho reaches over to turn the recording off. You take the opportunity to crane your neck up and plant a kiss on his lips. He smiles softly, grabbing your waist so that you’re straddling his hips. One hand travels up to gently tug on your chin, deepening the kiss. His tongue is hot and lavishes against yours, a juxtaposition between his hand, methodically stroking your hair. Your fingers dance across his face, stroking his cheekbones, tracing his jawline and neck. 

Soon, your fingers are replaced by your mouth and Minho’s Adam’s apple bobs with the groan he lets out. The fire in your chest and the beginning aching in your core has you tugging at the hem of his soft black tee shirt. His breath is shaky on your cheek as you pull the shirt over his head, softly dropping it next to the bed. Sitting back on his hips, you gaze down at his bare chest, wonder and admiration filling your heart as your hands travel across his toned torso. The lightest breeze of pink blush blows across his cheeks so you lean down to reattach your open mouth to his. The whirling in your mind rids your thoughts of everything except how he feels under you. His wet lips against yours, rising of his chest against yours, his hips pressing against yours. 

So his tense voice catches you off guard, “Y/n, are you sure?” He’s pulled back and his eyebrows are furrowed softly, his pretty lips red and swollen but glossy with your spit. 

Your gaze drops, hands fumbling to play with his hair. “I want to but if you wanna still take it slow, I’m fine wit—” 

“I want you too, Y/n,” he whispers. Hungrily, he pulls off your shirt, sitting up to cradle you in his arms as he nuzzles your breasts, pressing hot kisses against your skin. Sighing contently, you unclip your bra and try not to blush at the dumb, awestruck look on Minho’s face. His rough hands come up to gently fondle them and you press kisses to his forehead and cheeks.

“You’re beautiful, Y/n,” he breathes, his hands firm against your bare waist as he gingerly turns you over so your back is pressed against the cool sheets. “We can take it slow.” Nervousness tightens your stomach and you’re sure he can feel the thrumming of your pulse as he slowly drags down your pants, maintaining eye contact. An endearing toothy smile spreads across his face and he hides it by kissing your tummy, trailing down to your pantie covered core. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable or wanna stop, okay?”

You smile softly, “Okay, you too.” Minho nods, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Y/n,” he murmurs, reaching to tug off your underwear. Being completely bare underneath someone would make anyone ashamed or uncomfortable and your face burns as his glossy eyes take your most vulnerable state in. His lips are parted slightly and the soft glow of the lamp casts shadows of his eyelashes onto his red cheeks. A harsh swallow has his Adam’s apple bobbing. “God, you’re dripping, Y/n” He whispers, eyes shining, “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Minho,” you confirm. He slides his finger into your hot, aching core, his lip caught in his teeth as he watches his digit being sucked in. Slowly, Minho pushes his finger deeper into you, gaze dancing from your face to your core.

“M-more please,” you whimper, consumed by the unfamiliar feeling of your velvety walls around something. When he adds another finger deep inside you, you gasp, a hand traveling down to clutch his free one. His thumb strokes the back of your hand as his other continues, scissoring into you as wet sounds fill his bedroom. When his fingers curl up, hot white pleasure shoots through you and Minho smiles proudly, working at that spot.

“H-holy fuck,” you moan, head rolling from shoulder to shoulder at the unfamiliar pleasure. 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse, bub,” Minho muses, releasing your hand to push himself up the bed so that your faces are close together.

“I-its because of you, Minho.” 

That triggers something in him and his eyes turn dark, but rather than scaring you, it makes the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten. When Minho removes his fingers from you, it unwinds slowly but clenches at the sight of his now solid length being pulled out of his sweats. His eyelashes flutter closed on his cheeks as he strokes himself with his fingers, still slick from your juices as he retrieves a condom from the bedstand and rolls it on, hissing at the friction. “Are you ready, Y/n?” He pants softly, eyes hooded as he stares down at you, hand still moving up and down his red glistening cock in a way that has your pussy throbbing and mouth salivating. You respond by hooking your legs around his hips, smiling as he leans down to kiss your lips softly. His tip pokes at your hot core and you sling your arms around his shoulders.

Minho’s eyes are piercing as he gazes darkly at you, searching for the slightest trace of hesitance on your part. Painstakingly slowly, he slides into you. Maybe the foreplay did help to prepare you, but the stretch has tears pooling at the corners of your eyes and he’s not even all the way in you. Shakily, Minho exhales, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to hold back from pistoning into you. His lips press into the tears forming and spilling over at your eyes and he nuzzles your cheek with his nose softly, staying still until you reassure him, “Okay, you can keep going.” 

His teeth and tongue travel over your neck as he fully enters you, but his soft hiss has you unintentionally tightening around him. “Ah, Y/n don’t,” he groans, lifting his head from looking at the place you two are connected at to to smile at you. “Can I start?” 

You nod, hooking your ankles around his hips, “Yeah, just go slow for now.” Minho starts thrusting deep into you, angling his hips and going slow enough to feel the drag of your soaking walls rub against his throbbing cock. “You feel so good,” he moans, reaching to hold your hand as his hips continue to rock against you.

“I-I feel so full,” you whisper, squeezing his hand and he smiles softly at you, eyes crinkling up. “C-can you go faster?” 

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips and he snaps his hips into yours, groaning. The lustful and loving sounds of skin slapping resounds in the room, mixing with both of your moans to create a beautiful sound you tuck away in your mind. Minho pulls out till the tip before slamming into you, sweat forming at his forehead. With his free hand, Minho reaches down to rub your clit in tempo with his powerful thrusts. Moaning loudly, you whimper, “P-please, Min I-I think I’m gonna,” your words get swallowed by another moan when Minho’s hips increase their pace, his stamina through the roof.

“Me too, Y/n,” he pants, “Cum for me.” 

The hot coil tightens and you squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed at the sensation until white, electric pleasure crashes through you and you release around Minho’s length. He moans loudly, quickly chasing his high. His face twists in pleasure as he reaches his high and your fuzzy brain is left awestruck at his beauty. Minho collapses next to you, removing the condom, chest heaving in deep pants as he stares into your eyes, smiling like an idiot.

“How was that, Y/n?” He asks, arms circling your shoulder, pulling you close. 

You giggle into his chest, fingers tracing imaginary doodles, “That was fucking crazy, Min.” 

Minho’s chest bubbles with laughter and he boops your nose, scrunching his own nose up, “That’s great cause I was kinda worried about giving you a bad experience and all.” 

Looking up and tapping your chin with a finger in mock thinking you smile, “I loved it, but I want you to call me cute names, Min.” 

“I call you bub. But you mean like princess? Babygirl?” he says, an eyebrow raised. 

You roll your eyes, “Bub is not a cute name but yes, the others are okay.” “Okay,” Minho laughs, gently rubbing his nose against yours, “You’re my princess, you’re my babygirl, and you’re always my bub.”

Minho shuffles in the sheets, turning to face you, an excited smile on his face, “Just move in with me. You’re already here more than your own place and it’s unsafe there.” Still after loving him for so long, your stomach churns with nervousness, but you laugh softly, scooting closer so that you can bury your nose into his bare chest to breathe his scent in deeply. “This apartment building is safer than mine?” His arms find their way around you and he hold you close, his chest rumbling against your face with every word, “It’s safer because I’m here.” Laughing you pull back, supporting your weight with one arm as you gaze down at him. He lifts an eyebrow, stretching his arms towards you and you can’t help but collapse into them. “Okay, I’ll move in with you.”

A shining smile breaks out across Minho’s face and he nuzzles his nose into your hair softly, gently stroking your bare back.

[mickylikesstuff]

Status Online: Chapter 4: Blood Sky

Previous

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Masterlist

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FLOOR1

AINCRAD

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The Last bell rang throughout the floor and clouds are pushed by the strong wind at dusk.

Gamers in Sword Art Online are all gathered in the plaza in the <<Town of Beginnings>>. Confusion and panic fill the hearts of the gamers within the area as they cannot exit the Plaza. Akuma no Midori just finished taking down a hidden starter’s quest that was the << Herald of the Wolves>>, much of his surprise he was unexpectedly teleported to the <<Town Plaza>>. At first, He was expecting an intervention for taking down a hidden quest early, but why is the whole gaming population of SAO here? Akuma Damian somehow unconsciously holds his weapon under the black cloak he acquired

Red Valkyrie on the other hand has a sense of uncomfortable nostalgia. Max’s Akuma was like this. Yet she did not sense magic or a strong malice intent, Hawkmoth received his punishment that ended the terror of Paris 3 years ago. Valkyrie snaps out of her thoughts and begins to look for Pico and Lavender. Her head clear and breathe steadied, Ladybug Valkyrie begins to look for the siblings among the thick crowd, clutching the sword at hand.

Suddenly their world turns blood red. The once orange sky filled with red hexagons that have the stamped {WARNING} sigils in them. These shapes surrounded the plaza like a dome and then merge into a singularity, but what terrifies the gamers most is the gigantic looming thing that is above all of them. From the Red sigils came a red creature that somehow got into the dome and transformed into a singularity. From the blood slimy creature turned into a grim reaper. The titanic humanoid figure that is robed in red, and face unseen hovered the thousands of people

A booming deep voice sounded the place.

< Attention, Players. Welcome to my world. >

Red Valkyrie turned pale as she had an idea of what is happening. She can’t move in fear and shock, she can only be frozen stiff of what the looming figure says next.

< My name is Kayaba Akihiko. >

< As this moment, I am the only person who can control this world. >

Akuma gazes up to the creator of this world, Damian did not meet Kayaba Akihiko before. Yet his greeting seems something off…

Gamers are whispering to each other as the man Kayaba sends his greetings.

< I’m sure you’ve already noticed that the log out button is missing from your main menu screen >

< I assure you, It is not a defect >

“~We’re trapped here, no it can’t be…~” Akuma quickly turned to the woman who spoke French. That voice… she … wait her words hit him as he remembered Dick’s warning earlier. He watches the tears fell from the other gamer beside him as her face froze in fear. But if what she concludes is true then… This is bad.

Anxiety attack, she is having an attack. What kind of trauma can this event trigger her? ‘I have to calm her down before she does something stupid’

< I repeat. There is no bug >

< This is the feature of Sword Art Online >

“~Please no. Not again~” Akuma can’t stop himself from holding the weaponed arm of the gamer beside him in a steady firm grip. “Miss, you need to calm down and wake up. Please”. He goes to block her sight of Kayaba and starts rubbing her arms, hoping that will snap her out of it.

< You cannot log out of SAO yourselves >

“Miss… Red Valkyrie Wake up!”

Marinette untangled herself from her headspace and looked at the man in front of her. It is his green cool eyes that made her realize a hooded man is holding her steady. Mar Red Valkyrie lets go of the sword she is holding and collapses to the man. Her legs bucked down like they lost their strength and she tried to calm down by taking steady breaths.

< And no one on the outside can shut down your nerve gear >

< Should this be attempted, the transmitter inside the nerve gear will act as a powerful microwave, >

< Destroying the brain, ending your life >

.

“HAHA, dude you know April fools is over right”

“What a terrible prank”

“Fix the bug already!”

.

The people are in denial trying to counter that that is a prank and waving off Kayaba’s words. Some try to leave the plaza, but its exits are blocked. Klein tried to deny such a claim, but Kirito only confirmed that the existence of the Internal Battery of the Nerve gear can fry them to their death.

< Unfortunately, several players’ friends and families have already ignored this warning  >

< And attempted to remove the Nerve Gear. >

< As a result, a whole 213 players are forever gone >

< From Aincrad and the Real World >

.

News reports floated around the plaza for everyone to see:

.

<[Beaking News: Killer game]>

<[Where is Kayaba Akihiko]>

<[Game to Death Battles!]>

<[2 Players killed by Death game]>

<[200/10,000 Death and Rising from Sword art Online]>

.

“Tch. Bastard!” The Green-eyed man holding Red Valkyrie exclaimed as he seems to sink in into the situation. Eyes filled with condemnation and his body is shaking in rage, He holds Valkyrie tight. When she looked at Kayaba, news reports that are published about the deaths because of the nerve gear. 'Father, please be safe...'

“Calm Down” She tried to help him. She looked at his ID. ‘Ironic, an Akuma is trying to help me this time’ “Midori no Akuma-san, CALM DOWN.” She commanded him. That in turn made Dami Akuma looked at her, and closed his eyes to compose himself.

.

< As you can see, News organizations from across the world are picking up on this, and are reporting the death totals >

< Thus, It’s safe to assume that the danger of your nerve gear being removed is quite small >

< I do hope you’ll relax and attempt to finish the game. >

.

When Akuma calmed down, He let go of Valkyrie. Steps away from her a little once he is sure that she is all right. He was ashamed that in turn, he needed her back then. The woman then slowly grabs his hand and interwinds their fingers. She looks at him straight in the eye, no longer held with fear but a gaze of a warrior replaced with experience as she analyzes the reports floating around the plaza. He wishes that he was surprised at her actions but he must have been tired to take his hand back. All he can do is to follow her gaze.

.

< Its important that you remember this clearly >

< There is no longer a method to revive someone within the game. >

< If your HP drops to zero, your avatar will be lost forever. And spontaneously, >

< The Nerve Gear will destroy your brain. >

.

“It’s a Death game now” “A bastardized survival of the fittest” Akuma and Valkyrie spoke together. They knew as hero/vigilante that their line of work is by far a death sentence, but in these elements, they cannot control anything. Damian has no contact with his family and team. Marinette took off her miraculous. With their chances that Cass and Kagami can call their families and friend to help them out.

“Even pro gamers die in the games. The chances of everyone’s survival are slim to none” Valkyrie said the situation is now heavier. “This is our life now? Are we just dolls for this monster!?” Akuma now wants this man to suffer after what he pulled.

.

< There is only one means of escape. >

< COMPLETE THE GAME >

.

The whole plaza fell silent and listens to Kayaba’s words. ‘Complete what now?!’

.

< You are now presently on the lowest floor of Aincrad, Floor 1 >

< If you make your way through each dungeon and defeat its floor boss, you can advance to the next level. >

< Beat the final Boss on the 100th floor, and you will have cleared the last hurdle. >

.

“Clear a hundred Floors? That’s impossible. The Beta-testers never made it anywhere close to that!” a Red head man spoke among the crowd. Akuma now notices Kirito behind them. He pushes to the crowd, approaching the other Beta-tester. When He reaches to his student, “Kirirto!” Akuma called. Kirito in turn in relief to hear her mentor’s voice.

“Sen- eh…Akuma-san” Kirito and the Red-head now see two gamers approaching them. Did Akuma-san bring a friend? The woman seems to be confused. “Are you alright?” Kirito asked.

“No” Akuma answers. Yup this is sensei.

Red Valkyrie is drag by the man among the crowd to what it seems like his friends. “Will you please, Let my arm go” She spoke up. Akuma blinked at the woman then he noticed his hand holding hers and deliberately lets her go. “Where are the others?” Akuma questioned Kirito. “I haven’t seen them from the start” Kirito answered is in a grim expression.

.

< Finally, I’ve added a present to your item storage, from me. Please see for yourselves. >

.

All the Gamers are now opening their [Inbox storage] and what they saw is a... "A mirror?” Kirito questioned. Voicing the thoughts of all the players. Akuma is skeptical, he handles the mirror and looks that the woman. She is just as curious as he is.

Then suddenly the redhead glowed blue and shines in a blinding light.

“KLEIN!”

“GET BACK! KIRITO!”

Akuma instinctively grabs Valkyrie and Kirito and uses his cloak to protect the three of them, despite their protest. But it turns out that all of them are glowing and somehow changing? All of them closed their eyes until the light is gone.

“What’s happening!”

“Your Glowing, I’m GLOWING!”

“WAAAHHHH!!!”

All the gamers glowed until the light died out. Revealing people in different avatars or more likely their real appearances.

“Are you alright, Kirito?” Klien approached the Big man that took Kirito and that lovely lady. Under the man-Midori no Akuma’s cloak is Kirito and Red Valkyrie well… based on their IDs who are both adjusting their eyes. They looked at Klein but is not really Klein. His previously long red hair is now short and he has a goatee.

“Y-Yeah…Who are you?” Kirito is sure that he heard Klein’s voice but who is this? And why is his voice turned higher? Didn’t he change the settings?

“And who are you?” the not Klein asked too. Kirito then looks at the Mirror. His face… His IRL Face, not the custom avatar is showing. He became smaller and lanky, his hair is shorter and his eyes are wider than the olive-shaped eyes he had.

“And you guys are?” Kirito looked where Klein is looking at. “That’s Akuma’s ID…” Kirito now sees the changes. Well, subtle changes. Akuma-san is exotic, to say the least… Now lean muscled, and big about 6ft. His green eyes became more vibrant, is it even possible to have sharper eyes? His skin is dark and his hair chopped short. He does not have his scar on his face anymore.

His Friend, on the other hand, has changed a lot, Klein has to gaze at her ID twice “Red Valkyrie-san?” as he checked on her. She lost her pink hair and now she has long black hair that flows to her back. She looks Eurasian, Big blue eyes, slender yet muscled too, she lost a couple of inches.

The two adults looked at their mirrors, they are now at their changed avatars. The gamers are now scared and confused about what happened. Surprise and resignation wash her as Valkyrie takes a deep breath. Akuma doesn’t really care about his appearance. But under his clothes, he is worried about another thing. ‘Can they scan my scar?’

“Which means…”

“You’re Kirito?”  "You’re Klein?”

Both the boys now realize what happened. “But, How?” Yet Klein is now really confused.

“That scan… The NerveGear covers your entire head with a high-density signal device, So it can see what you look like.” Kirito started to explain. “But our body shape…”

Klein continues “When we first used the NerveGear, we have to calibrate it, right? You have to touch your whole body all over."

“O-oh right, that must be where it got the data.”

“But... But… Why? What the hell’s the point of all this?” Klein tries to concentrate and come up with an answer but with all the changes and revelations, he wants to keep up.

“I’m sure he’ll tell us.” Kirito points the grim

Akuma and Valkyrie gaze at Kayaba in such hatred. ‘I won’t back down to a Hawkmoth wanna be!’ ‘I’ll get you for this!’

.

< Right now, you’re probably wondering why I’ve done this. >

< “Why would Kayaba Akihiko, developer of Sword Art Online go such lengths?” >

< My goal has already been achieved.>

< I created Sword Art Online for one reason...To create a world and play with it.>

.

“Kayaba” Kirito grounded himself. In his anger, he gripped his fist tight.

.

< And Now, it is complete. >

< This is ends the tutorial for the official Sword Art Online launch >

< I wish you all the best of luck. >

.

And at the end of the message, Kayaba disappeared in red smoke through the gaps of the sigils above. After that, the sigils disappeared. The dusk shines on the plaza once more.

Time stands still to the frozen crowd. Their mind is racing in thoughts of their family, friends, love-ones, their priorities, and their jobs. All players are equal on this floor that starts at 250HP, If they have carelessly done stupid and make the wrong decisions they will… DIE!

.

.

.

This isn’t a game anymore...

This is real, this is reality…

A simple strike will kill me.

A poison will end me.

When I Die Here, I Die for real!

.

.

.

After they realize what they have done... Panic and chaos ensued

They started wailing, cursing, begging they have done it all.

And nothing changes.

.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

“LET ME OUT!!”

“I HAVE A FAMILY! Let me go!”

“I have a meeting after this!’

“NO NO NO NO NO !!!!”

.

In the crowd, Akuma, Valkyrie, Klein, and Kirito acted fast. When the barrier is broken down, The beta-testers took their partners and ran towards the exit. Away from the mob and panicking people.

“Come with us, Now!” Akuma places his hand on Valkyrie’s shoulder and gestures to follow him. There is something about the Red Valkyrie that made him pay attention to her. At least let him try little to guide her.

“Alright.” Valkyrie follows him as the four of them sprinted out the Plaza. She might be in trouble taking a stranger’s hand. Yet it felt right and somehow made her safe and sweeps her off beyond the disorder.

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

Running out of the marketplace and she cannot help herself to leap from stall to stall, use railings and streetlights to launch herself, and uses the roofs to gain more ground. Jumping, rolling, sliding, grappling and other actions help her think. When she concentrates on her actions her thoughts follow that makes no room to be distracted by fear and distress. Parkour, is somehow an effective therapy that made Marinette Dupain-Cheng less a target from Hawkmoth’s influence.

‘That was interesting. So, Kayaba did successfully make a VR world into reality. After he created the Cardinal System, he used the beta-testers to report for configurations, glitches, and repairs in the system. Does the if the system…’ She thought as leaped to another roof. ‘The system must also be self-updating, thus the progress of each gamers’ account is not easily erased’. ‘If survival is what we need then we have to be stronger, Wait ... we?’. Red Valkyrie pauses on a street where the man- Akuma also stopped in front of her.

In this quiet intersection, she is alone with a man, ' a handsome man... Bad Marinette! SNAP OUT OF IT '  She's not sure if she can blush in the game but she would be completely flustered at the closeness of this giant that is looking down on her.

Akuma is looking at her with indifferent eyes, yet his voice dripped in curiosity. “That was an interesting run. ~ Mademoiselle  ~” The man said. His brow was raised as he fully looked at her once again.

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[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #96: The Count of Monte Cristo

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making the King of the Cavern, Edmond Danganron- sorry, the Count of Monte Cristo. Ol’ Eddy’s fast enough to leave afterimages, strong enough for those afterimages to also hit people and hurt them, and plenty of creepy darkness and fire based abilities.

Check out the Count’s build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: Helloooo nurse!

Race and Background

This part isn’t that complicated. The Count is a human, and as a Variant Human he gets +1 to Constitution and Wisdom, as well as proficiency in one skill. Grab Acrobatics, because you’re fast and there’s other stuff we’re getting with your class stuff. You also get the Tough feat, giving you an extra 2 HP when you level up. Being the physical embodiment of hatred makes you pretty hard to stamp out.

I don’t think there’s a “wrongfully accused” variation of the Criminal background, so we’re making you a Haunted One instead; your stay in the Chateau d’If left a pretty big impression on you. This gives you Investigation and Survival proficiencies. You could also go Charlatan or Faceless if you want a more book-based Count, but we’re going with the gacha game version.

Ability Scores

Put your highest score into Wisdom. In older versions of D&D, wisdom saves were called will saves, and you’ve got an iron one. After that is Dexterity; you’re a speedy boy, and you’re hard to hit. Third is Constitution- your concentration saves should be instantly passed, and you’re even harder to kill than you are to hit. Intelligence is next, you’re pretty good at revenge schemes, but that’s a niche subject. Your Charisma isn’t that great, but you don’t get directly involved in social situations that often. Finally, dump Strength. You’re actually really strong, but we’re using dexterity for damage, so we don’t need this stat.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: You’re fast and you punch people, and you’ve also spent a lot of time contemplating your place in life in the Chateau d’If. Most of that matches up with a monk well, and a more chaotic character might call a monastery a prison, if you’re really stretching for this to fit 100%. As a monk you get Unarmored Defense, giving you an AC based on your Dexterity and Wisdom so you can fight in a sick chapeau, or a sick Chateau, if you haven’t escaped yet. Speaking of fighting, you can use your fists thanks to your Martial Arts. This lets you use Dexterity instead of Strength for unarmed attacks and damage, your unarmed attacks deal 1d4 damage instead of 1, and you can make an unarmed attack as a bonus action after you attack as an action.

2. Fighter 1: You’re not just a speedy punch boy, you’re the speediest punchiest boy, going so fast we can skip 10 levels of monk progression in 1 level of fighter. The Unarmed Fighting fighting style means your fists now do 1d6 damage minimum, or 1d8 if you’re not wielding any weapons or shields (which you shouldn’t be). You can also deal 1d4 damage to grappled creatures each turn, but that probably won’t come up. You like to stay mobile. You also gain a Second Wind, letting you spend a bonus action to heal yourself. You can kinda control time, so there’s no bad moment for a smoke bre- and Guda’s gotten themselves trapped in a dream again.

3. Druid 1: Three classes in three levels? It’s more likely than you think. I know the Count doesn’t turn into a dog, you’ll just have to trust me on this one for now. First level druids learn Druidic, it’s a language, and also how to cast and prepare Spells using Wisdom as your casting ability. Your biography snippets mention you have “poisonous fire”, and I’m not sure how that would work in D&D, so grab Produce Flame and Poison Spray to get poison and fire attacks. For first level spells, Longstrider and Jump will improve your mobility despite your dumped strength, and Protection from Evil and Good is a good way to protect your iron will by preventing you (or a target creature) from being charmed, frightened, or possessed by aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead. Those creatures also have disadvantage on their attacks against you. The men who betrayed you were probably human in FGO, but who knows what curveballs your DM will throw at you.

4. Druid 2: With the Circle of the Stars, you can still use your Wild Shape as an action to transform into a non-flying, non-swimming beast of CR 1/4 or less, or you can assume a Starry Form as a bonus action; both options still can only be used twice per short rest. Your starry form sheds light 10′ away brightly, and another 10′ of dim light. You also pick one of three constellations that form on your body, granting you additional benefits. The Archer lets you use your bonus action (including when you transform) to make a ranged spell attack, dealing radiant damage. The Chalice causes you to be able to heal yourself or another when you cast a healing spell. The Dragon gives you Refined Talent with Intelligence and Wisdom checks, as well as Concentration saves. While in this form, you can’t roll less than a 10 on them. So yes, you do canonically have the weird glowing lights from your scarf now.

You also make a Star Map, which comes with its own benefits. You know Guidance and Guiding Bolt while you hold the map, and you can cast the latter a number of times per day equal to your proficiency bonus without spending a spell slot. It also acts as your spellcasting focus, and can be replaced with an hour long ceremony, which can be done during a rest.

5. Fighter 2: If you were playing a single class, this would be the level you get an extra attack on. Instead, you get an Action Surge, letting you add an extra action to one of your turns once per short rest. It’s kind of like an extra attack, but less frequent, and much better when you get a regular extra attack.

6. Fighter 3: You’ve finally gone so fast and so hard that your afterimage can punch people! At least, that’s the justification I have for picking up the Echo Knight subclass. As an Echo Knight, you can Manifest Echo to create a copy of yourself near you that has an AC of 14 plus your proficiency bonus and 1 HP. It can move up to 30′ each turn, and has to stay within 30′ of you or be destroyed. As a bonus action, you can teleport, switching places with your echo. Each attack made with your attack action can come from either you or your echo, and you can make opportunity attacks with the echo as well. You can also Unleash Incarnation for an extra attack from your echo when you take the attack action. You can use this feature a number of times per long rest equal to your Constitution modifier. 

So we went from two attacks per turn at level 4 to a maximum of five attack in a turn at level 6. You can’t keep that up for long, but I doubt you’ll have to at this point.

7. Monk 2: Remember that class we started as? I think it’s time we went back to that one. At second level, you get Ki Points equal to your monk level, which you can currently spend to make two attacks, dodge, disengage, or dash as a bonus action. You also get Unarmored Movement, increasing your running speed by 10 feet. I’ve been talking about how fast you are this entire build, it’s about time we made good on that.

8. Monk 3: You literally live in Guda’s shadow, so this subclass is almost a given. Shadow monks can learn Shadow Arts, letting you cast Darkness, Darkvision, Pass without Trace, and Silence without material components for 2 ki points a pop. You also learn Minor Illusion. Third level monks can also Deflect Missiles, reacting to ranged attacks to block and throw them back at enemies. Thanks to Tasha’s you can also make Ki-Fueled Attacks. If you spend a ki point as part of your action, you can still attack with your bonus action. You’re a busy man, so you’ll have to make the most out of every turn.

9. Monk 4: Finally, your first Ability Score Improvement pops up at level 9. Use this to become Resilient in Constitution saves, gaining proficiency in them and increasing your constitution by 1 point. Combined with your Dragon constellation, this means you’ll automatically pass any concentration save caused by less than 34 damage. Having an iron will comes in handy sometimes! You can also Slow Fall, reducing damage taken by falling based on your monk level.

10. Monk 5: Five levels after most players, you finally get your Extra Attack, letting you make two attacks with each attack action. Combined with your Action Surge, Unleash Incarnation, and Martial Arts, you can now attack 8 times in a single round, albeit once per short rest. To put it in context, that’s about as many times as a level 20 fighter, also using their action surge. 

The fun doesn’t stop there! Fifth level monks also can make Stunning Strikes using ki. When you hit a creature, you can spend one ki point to force a Constitution saving throw with a DC of 8 plus your proficiency bonus plus your wisdom modifier or be stunned until the end of your next turn. You get advantage on all attacks against stunned creatures, so... that’s going to hurt. You can also use a Focused Aim to improve your accuracy on attacks by spending even more ki points.

11. Fighter 4: One last level of fighter gives us another ASI, which will increase our Dexterity for a higher AC and stronger punches.

12. Druid 3: Third level druids get second level spells, like Darkvision or Pass Without Trace, so you can save your ki points for stunning strikes. You can also use Enhance Ability to push yourself even further.

13. Druid 4: At this level, your Wild Shape improves, so you can now transform into beasts of CR 1/2 or lower, and you can swim as well, if you really want to. But you also get another ASI, which makes you Shadow Touched. This increases your Wisdom by one point, and you learn Invisibility and Disguise Self, both using Wisdom to cast. One of your Noble Phantasms, the Monte Cristo Mythologie, can hide your Class from others. It would probably be more literally implemented with Nystul’s Magical Aura, but Disguise Self is a much more practical spell for you.

You can cast either one of these spells once per long rest for free, or like any regular spell with the appropriate spell slot.

You also get more fire power with the Create Bonfire cantrip.

14. Druid 5: Fifth level druids get third level spells. There’s a lot of cool stuff you can do now, but we’re mostly here for Revivify. Your third Noble Phantasm, Attendre, Esperer, gives you amazing recovery abilities, even bringing people back from the verge of death. Reviving people within a minute after their death is as close as we’re going to get here.

15. Monk 6: Your movement speed increases by another 5 feet now, and thanks to Ki-Empowered Strikes, your unarmed attacks are magical as far as resistances are concerned. As a shadow monk, you can also Shadow Step with your bonus action, teleporting up to 60′ between shadows. Doing this also grants you advantage on your next attack.

16. Monk 7: Seventh level monks get Evasion, letting you take no damage when you succeed on dexterity saves, and half damage when you fail. You also gain a Stillness of Mind, letting you end charming or frightening effects on yourself as an action. Your wisdom save is pretty solid, but it never hurts to have backup.

17. Monk 8: Use this ASI to round out your Constitution and Wisdom for more health, stronger spells, and a better AC.

18. Monk 9: Ninth level monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, letting you run up walls or over water with your normal movement speed. Just make sure you hit dry land before you stop, it’s not fun otherwise.

19. Monk 10: Tenth level monks have a Purity of Body that makes them immune to disease and poison, and you’re kind of the same. You’re already 99% revenge; you don’t have any space for more impurities.

Also you get another 5′ of movement.

20. Monk 11: Your capstone level grants you a Cloak of Shadows, allowing you to turn invisible as an action in dim light or darker. You remain invisible until you make an attack, cast a spell, or enter bright light. It’s not quite melding into shadows, but it certainly isn’t bad.

Also, in case you were wondering, your Martial Arts die bumps up to a d8 at this level, so you’d finally be as strong as you were at level 2 if we didn’t go into fighter now.

Pros:

A regular monk would have focused more on dexterity and had more accurate attacks, but we make up for that with the sheer number of punches we can throw at once. If you want something stunned, it’s basically guaranteed at this point. This also makes you a solid burst attacker: 8d8+24 damage is nothing to sneeze at.

Also unlike a regular monk, you’re really fucking tough to kill. With an AC of 17 and enough HP to give fighters a run for their money, physical attackers will find it hard to cut you down. On top of that, you’re pretty good against the three most common spell saves (Dexterity, Wisdom, and Constitution), and your evasion makes it so spellcasters will also have their work cut out for them.

You’re absurdly good at Concentration when you need to be. With your dragon constellation up, you can instantly shrug off any concentration save that is caused by less than 40 Damage. Basically, anything that isn’t a rogue or a beholder won’t be able to shake your buffs off an ally.

Cons:

Monks eat up their ki points quickly, and you’re no exception. This also applies to your Action Surge, spell slots, Starry Form, and Unleash Incarnation uses. You’re very, very impressive in combat, but only for a choice few rounds. If you use those up, it’s going to be a slog. A slog you’ll probably survive, but a slog.

Being a star druid makes you a literal light in the darkness. While that is a beautiful metaphor, it does make using the rest of your stealthy dark-focused build effectively. You can’t shadow step when you’re a walking lightbulb, sorry.

Despite your overall defensive strength, you have a few key weaknesses, like your charisma and intelligence saves. You won’t be much help in if you’re shot to another dimension by spellcasters, or against mindflayers in general.

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

Azula the good sister AU (AKA the Fire siblings have a healthy relationship AU)

I’ve just finished binge watching Avatar the Last Airbender and I already have an AU ready in my head. Please enjoy my ridiculous rambling!

Azula is still really tough and intense but she isn’t a fucking psychopath like in the series

She’s still a bending prodigy and “daddy’s favorite” but the latter isn’t something she wanted or strived for

She shows affection by teasing people, but she is also fiercely loyal and protective over the people she cares about. Like she’s nice but she’ll still cut a bitch if they hurt her friends and brother.

As most siblings do Azula and Zuko like to playfully argue and insult each other:

Zuko: *having just woken up*

Azula: wow you look like shit

Zuko: big talk coming from a midget with rat nest hair

Azula: at least I only look like this in the morning, you willingly keep that rat tail on top of your head. No wonder you have no friends!

Zuko: oh yeah what’s your excuse then?

They’re the type of siblings that in a modern-day setting would send each other a picture of a toaster saying “I found you a new bath bomb”

She absolutely adores her older brother and Zuko took his role as older sibling in stride even if Azula could practically take care of herself

They’re great training partners

Their favorite memory as children was feeding turtle ducks with their mother, they still do so even now after she’s gone

When she overheard her grandfather ordering her father to kill Zuko she left to tell her mother immediately afterwards she snuck into Zuko’s room to cuddle with him in bed claiming that she’d had a nightmare.

Their mother came in to kiss them goodbye goodnight before disappearing into the night. Zuko had been half asleep so he had no idea what was going on but Azula did and she knew what her mother was about to do. She didn’t know what the outcome would be but she knew that it would be the last time she’d ever see her mother.

Azula never told Zuko what happened only that it was all their father’s fault

It was then they began mutually hating on their father

Of course, they had no choice but to respect him as he was still the Fire Lord and could possibly kill them. But as soon as he was out of ear shot the siblings were like:

Azula: Why the fuck did he think growing out his beard was a good idea???

Zuko: He looks like a goat-pig

Uncle Iroh treats them both as his own children and helps them perfect their fire bending as well as teach them the art of tea brewing. Zuko still thinks it’s stupid but Azula becomes just as much of a tea fanatic as her uncle

Azula has had a giant crush on Ty Lee ever since they were children and everyone, but Ty Lee knows about it. On the flip side Ty Lee also has a giant crush on Azula ever since childhood and everyone but Azula knows about it.

Azula: That's a sharp outfit, Ty Lee. Careful. You could puncture the hull of an empire-class Fire Nation battleship, leaving thousands to drown at sea, because it's so sharp.

Ty Le: *confused but happy that her crush complemented her* Gee thanks Zula.

Azula: *later, screaming into her pillow* I’m such an idiot!

Zuko: *sitting beside her, sipping tea* Yeah, you really are.

The day Zuko was challenged to Agni Kai Azula told him that he was an idiot and that he better kick that loser general’s ass or it would be an embarrassment to both their training. It was her own way of telling him to be careful and that she was rooting for him.

When she found out that it was her father challenging Zuko to Agni Kai she had to be held back by Iroh to keep her from jumping into the arena to help her brother

Azula was determined to join her brother in his banishment but Zuko wouldn’t allow her, saying how it was his fault for speaking out of term and that his sister shouldn’t have to suffer from his mistakes.

They had a big fight after that because the siblings were nothing if not hotheaded and stubborn. Zuko didn’t want his sister to leave all she knew behind just because of him and Azula didn’t want to be stuck doing nothing while her brother suffers alone.

They parted there days later, regretful, angry, and sad. They didn’t necessarily apologies (let’s be honest what kind of siblings apologies to each other) but they did start writing letters to each other, which was their way of saying that they were cool now.

Zuko wrote to her about his journey to find the Avatar as well as Uncle Iroh’s ridiculous jokes and tea ramblings while Azula wrote to him about how things are back home as well as potential places where the Avatar could be located.

Both aren’t sure if the Avatar even exists anymore, but they keep hoping as it means that they will one day be reunited with each other.

The day Zuko found the Avatar he entrusted only his sister with the information as he knew that once word got out that the Avatar was still alive it would be an all-out man hunt.

Everything works out relatively the same as in the series except with Azula helping out her brother in the background. She’d secretly send her brother information about general Zhao’s whereabouts so as to avoid him as well as any resources he needed for his journey.

When Ozai ordered Azula to go retrieve her brother and uncle she was both delighted and terrified; she was happy to see her brother again, but she didn’t want to take him as her prisoner. So of course, she came up with a plan.

The first thing Azula said to her brother after two and a half years apart was: “Wow, you look like shit.”

He replied without missing a beat: “Big talk coming from a midget with rat nest hair.”

They hug for the longest time and in that moment, she quietly resights her plan to him: They had to pretend to escape from her and go into hiding. She’ll pretend to hunt him down and he’ll somehow manage to escape from her clutches every time. All the while they’ll work together in trying to capture the Avatar.

She enlists the help of Mai and Ty Lee telling them the minimal amount of information just in case things go south they can plead manipulation. Of course, Mai and Ty Lee are ready to go down with their captain/friend no matter what, but they don’t mind being out of the loop for the time being. They trust Azula and know that everything she does is to help her brother and uncle.

The events leading up to the battle of Ba Sing Se are pretty similar up until the part where Zuko makes a choice between helping the Avatar or his kingdom. He’s realized the pain and terror his ancestors have installed in the world; tearing away hope for a better future.

Just as Azula was about to strike Aang with a finishing blow Zuko stops her, telling her what they’ve been doing is wrong and if they want the world to prosper, they need to help the Avatar.

Azula was a bit annoyed seeing as she went through the trouble of sneaking into Ba Sing Se and taking over the earth kingdom from the inside out. But then again, her brother was right as she already knew of her father’s end game plan.

Azula: Zuzu, I love you, but couldn’t you have told me we were going to rebel against father sooner so I could have planned accordingly.

Just as there are loyalist to the Fire Lord there are also loyalist to the Princess as they see her as a more fit leader than the current ruler. And thus, that is how team Avatar was able to get a good portion of the fire nation army on their side.

Ba Sing Se has now been established as their main base with the entire city now having chosen the side of the Avatar.

At this point Azula still had Suki and the Kyoshi warriors held prisoner close by so she was able to bring them back without much fuss.

Azula: Er, sorry for imprisoning you and stuff. I just needed to save my stupid brother but we’re on your side now. Cool?

Suki: Only if I get to punch you in the face as hard as I can.

Azula: That seems fair.

Katara does NOT trust Azula and Zuko which is fine because Azula doesn’t trust her either but she knows they need to work together if they want to even have a slim chance of beating her father.

Katara: You might have everyone else here buying your ‘transformation,’ but you and I both know you’ve struggled with doing the right thing in the past. So, let me tell you something right now. You make one step backward, one slipup, give me one reason to think you might hurt Aang, and you won’t have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I’ll make sure your destiny ends right then and there. Permanently!

Azula: Right back attcha bitch!

Toph and Azula get along swimmingly which both amuses and terrifies Zuko because one: he’s glad that his sister is finally making somewhat normal friends but two: those two together is just chaos incarnate

Ty Lee also really bonds with the Kyoshi warriors who teach her some of their fighting techniques in exchanged for her teaching them some chi blocking moves.

Suki and Mai start getting cozy with each other with Suki liking Mai’s skills and straightforward attitude and Mai admiring Suki’s confidence and bravery. It’s easy to talk with each other.

Sokka, at one point: Why the hell don’t we just send the girls out to defeat the Fire Nation? We’re all completely useless compared to them.

Also after a few month working together Zuko can now join his sister in her gay screaming

Azula: Did you seriously fall for that Water Tribe boy?

Zuko: You’re one to talk!

Azula: Hey! Ty Lee is an angel and we’re all lucky to have her!

Zuko: She once ate a whole bowl of fire flakes by herself and had to get her stomach pumped.

Azula: Look, what Fire Nation teen hasn’t done that at least once

Zuko: She did it THREE times!

Once the siblings and Co finally bond well enough with team Avatar tension lessens and their attitude go from: “uhg, I guess we have to work together or whatever” to “you are my friend now and I would die for you! I would literally commit murder if you asked me to, no questions asked”

Aang is baby and the Fire squad has now joined in the “Aang protection army” and in a similar fashion team Avatar have also learned that Ty Lee is baby and have now joined the “Ty Lee protection squad”. Even though Aang and Ty Lee are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves one cannot help but want to protect and care for the literal ray of sun shines.

Zuko and Sokka still have their epic rescue adventure to the boiling rock, with the extra help of their team. They sneak into the facility with disguises, Azula and her crew walk in like they own the place (news of her betrayal to the Fire Lord has yet to reach certain places), while the rest of team Avatar keep watch from afar just in case things start going south.

You know that scene where Zuko gets put in the freezer and when Sokka goes to let him out Zuko breathes out a breath of fire with a smirk? It was then and there that Sokka realized that his teeny tiny crush on Zuko might actually be a giant massive crush.

In this AU it is actually Azula that helps Katara track down the man that killed her mother because let’s face it, no matter what universe she’s in Azula will always be down to beat a bitch is ass.

This is the first time Azula has ever witness somebody blood bending and unlike most people that would usually freak out she was actually really impress and kind of turned on.

Azula: You know if I weren’t already madly in love with Ty Lee, I’d ask you to marry me in a heartbeat.

Katara: And I would accept that offer if only for the pleasure of rubbing it in your dad’s face

Azula: Why didn’t we become friends sooner?!?!

It is then the Little Sister alliance was formed in which they teamed up to poke fun at their bumbling brothers who keep awkwardly dancing around each other.

Their friendship can be summed up to: “I will kill you where you stand but also I respect you”

Okay, Imma just say this right now: Sokka is a fucking badass and even after getting taught how to fight by the Kyoshi warriors and the Fire sibling + Co. he reached a whole new level of badassery once he learned the ways of the sword by Master Piandao. Zuko’s little gay heart could only take so much and Sokka being all cool and collected while wielding a sword made the former Fire Prince short-circuit.

Zuko, in his tent, face down screaming into his pillow: Uhg, I can’t with this boy anymore!

Suki, rolling her eyes at her best friend’s melodramatics: Pull yourself together man.

Ty Lee, patting his head reassuringly: Don’t worry, you’ll get through this.

Azula, sipping tea beside him: This wouldn’t be happening if you just asked him out already.

Zuko: Don’t you fucking start with me hypocritical bitch!

Azula: *nervous gay drinking*

The day of the final battle Azula and Katara lead Hakoda’s army plus the Kyoshi Warriors to reclaim the fire nation capital while Aang, Zuko, Sokka, and Toph chased after the Fire Lord and his war ships.

The battle to take back the capital was brutal as there was still an entire army keeping guard with one of the Fire Lord’s generals acting as temporary leader. Unfortunately for them Azula still had a reputation of fear amongst the Fire Nation army and a lot of soldiers surrendered once they realized it was her leading the invasion and not the Avatar. Those that didn’t surrendered were defeated in battle because let’s be honest with a team this fierce there is no way in hell they couldn’t not win.

There’s also a scene where Azula is fighting off the general and a bunch of soldiers and it seems like she’s not gunna make it but she does, bloody and bruised but victorious. I imagen in that moment Ty Lee goes running up to Azula, jumps into her arms, and kisses her right then and there, while they’re still in the middle of battle. It’s super cool and romantic and it seemed to give Azula more energy than Sozin’s comet ever could as she seemed now ready to defeat god.

Azula: Y’all bitches be fucked now! I ain’t afraid to die but now that I gotta girlfriend I’m not going nowhere fuckers!

With Aang and his team it goes about the same as it did in the show; take down the ships, battle the Fire Lord, almost die, etc. That scene where Sokka thinks that Suki died on the aircraft is now replaced with Zuko almost dying then coming back to save their asses at the late minute. They too also kiss once they see that the other is unharmed while Toph rolls her eyes and gags at the sight.

Again, Aang does not kill the Fire Lord and instead takes away his fire bending powers before locking him in prison to rot. The fire siblings come by sometimes to annoy the shit out of him by flicking fire flakes at his head for target practice or psychologically torture him with excruciating detail of how they’ve been thoroughly fucked by their significate others in is bed and on his thrown.

Zuko: How’s it feel knowing that not only are both your kids gay but they’re also bottoms?

Ozai: *screams*

Azula: Ty Lee also fucked me atop your war room table :)

Ozai: *screams intensify*

In the end Zuko really doesn’t want to be Fire Lord so he happily passes that torch on to Azula who only agrees to take the job so long as Zuko becomes her second in command. Everyone is happy and with a lot of hard work throughout the years there is finally peace amongst the four nations.

[popculturebuffet]

Final Space: And Into The Fire Review or Now with 110% More Homoerotic Telepathy

Welcome  new and old to my first Final Space review! If you’ve never seen the blog before, and given this is the first “new” series i’ve covered as it come out in some time that’s probably quite a few of you, welcome. I’m Jake, I do recaps and reviews of various animated shows and comics, mostly just stuff I want to do, often on comission (5 dollars an episode if theres any episode of the first two seasons of this show or any episode of any other show you’d like tos ee me cover), or for my patreon patreon.com/popculturebuffet. And it is my utmost honor to add this show to my rotating roster of shows I cover as they come out. 

I friggin love Final Space. I was intrigued by it back when TBS released the animatics alongside Close Enough (Wth the two shows ironically finally together on HBO max as of earlier this month), for their doomed block. I heard a lot of good things about season 1.. and let it get away from me, not watching it till Season 2. But both seasons had more than enough to pull me in with intriguging characters, even greater jokes and a truly unique idea for a premise involving giant monsters, an edltrich god and lots of cookies. 

So while it took an extra year given Covid, I’m super friggin pumped to get into season 3 at long last after the hell of a cliffhanger, especially since ironically last night I saw Steven Yeun’s oscar nominated performance in “Minari”. Now i get to watch him play a cat teenager again too.. and in a few days Mark friggin Grayson. It’s a good week to be a fan of his is what i’m saying and a good week in general. 

Previously on Final Space Yo!: Since it’s been a year and while the series provides  a recap , I’m going to be doing these anyway so:

Our heroes finally got all 5 dimensional keys and freed Bolo, and in the process also freed Avacato from Invictus, the horrifying entity controlling final space. Meanwhile Tribore got Sheryl to stop being a selfish prick and she joined the team trying to be a better mother from now on. But freeing Bolo came at a high cost as Nightfall sacrified herself as the sixth key (KVN was natrually both Gary and Bolo’s first choice, but was inllegible. ) So we ended the season with our heroes entering Final Space and Gary reuniting with Quinn.... while Invictus loomed. So over a year later we finally get some answers so join me under the cut for spoilers, recaps, and homoerotic text ahoy. 

Something i’m doing since both the roster keeps changing.. and as I correctly guessed from the trailer, and the general tone of the promos for this season, that everyone won’t be all together all season.. or even in one piece.. i’ll be doing a silver age style roll call to let us know who all we have on the Team Squad for the episode Roll Call: Gary, Quinn, Avacato, Little Cato, Ash, Fox, KVN, HUE, AVA, Sheryl, Bolo, and Tribore

So we pick up right where we left off, Gary tearfully reuniting with Quinn, with Quinn wishing he hadn’t come for her, and Gary being Gary naturally having ignored that, and actually been more determined since that made it forbidden which made it extra tempting and him want to extra do it. God I missed this glorious idiot let me tell you. 

So things are quickly interrupted by invictus, who turns out to be a giant flaming head.. thing... and chases them and the crimson light, which has to start speeding with our heroes tethered to the outside, Quinn holding onto Gary. 

So we get one hell of a thrilling chase as the Crimson Light outspeeds the demon head and runs into two titans, but Bolo shows up to take out one, with Mooncake trying his dimension shattering blast thingy on Invictus.. and naturlaly g ven this is the big bad we need to show off how horrying they are, and it does NOTHING. But Gary catches his little buddy so we’re alright. 

Sheryl also shows off her badass bonafieds by LIGHTFOLDING THROUGH A TITAN... granted she still has some parenting skills to learn as “lightfolding while your son is hanging out the back through an edltrich god” really isn’t a motherly thing to do.. but neither is trying to murder your child several times or blaming him for how shitty your life turned out so ANYTHING is a step up for her. 

But.. it’s not enough. While she does manage to kill ONE the Crimson Light is too badly damaged to go on and we get two tragic deaths in one go... The Team Squad is forced to abandon the Crimson Light.. and AVA is too damaged to Upload into HUE. “I’m Sad” “For who?” “For you.. and for us. “ God damn Tom Kenny is amazing. You don’t need me telling you that, but sometimes you need a reminder. 

So our heroes end up on a desolate mystery world, stranded in final space with no ship, no suplies and no hope. The only thing to do now is survivie and hope they can continue the mission at some point. 

ONE MONTH LATER

Things have not gotten any better, as naturally , our heroes have only found weird cartoon eyed worms that regrow their heads when you bite them off. So while this means unlimited food, it’s also disgusting and Garry hates it. “This may be a head but it tastes like a butt”. Quinn and Tribore are with him and Quinn hasn’t been ready to talk about her experiences trapped in this hellscape and still isn’t but being a good dude, Gary dosen’t push her on it. Though the weird red veiny thing on her arm tells me maybe one of you should speed that up before she explodes or gets cronnenburgy. Just saying. I’ll also say i’m not huge on the one month time skip, as while I feel they probably have a reason for being that specific i’ts a bit TOO long and I question why have that long a period of a jump, not the longest but still long enough for things to happen with nothing changingin that time? Still it’s a minor nitpick in an otherwise fantastic episode so I can let it go, I just don’t get it. 

What we do get is some Gary Corpses dropping and Invictius puppeting them... i’m with gary that is bowel openingly scary. I also do like how despite the FAR more dire circumstances, they still get in the requisite shenanigans this series requires. I’ts not to the network mandated subplot levels where it distracts, but it’s enough to help ease the terror of the situation and isn’t around for situations like the opening where it really SHOULDN’T be. As the series always has when something big happens, the bollocks goes away. Once we’re in between we can get back to literal pissing contests, KVN leading a crowd to their deaths and HUE in a pimp hat like god intended. 

So yeah our heroes have to outrun the horrible horde of Gary’s, though Little Cato catches on something’s wrong as Tribore makes gary cary him as foreshadowing for later and Sends mooncake down to asssit. Our heroes escape.. but a cave in happens.

After the break, Gary wakes up confused with the party now split in two: Gary, Quinn, KVN, Tribore and HUE on one side and Avacato, Ash, Fox, Little Cato and Sheryl on the other. So Gary does the logical thing... and take his shirt off telling Avacato to feel him. 

I mean I didn’t even ship them before this scene but... Gary claims because of their bond he can telepahtically connect with Avacato. That’s normal Gary shenanigans.. except not only does he shrug off his girlfriend asking why they can’t do that.. but it WORKS. We have a scene of the two telepahtically talking in a wheatfield that is so homerotic I guarantee there only wasn’t the Careless Whisper sax because they couldn’t afford it.. or their saving it for later this season. Look sometimes you don’t ship a ship because you just.. dont’ care that strongly one way or another and sometimes you just need an incredibly gay scene to see the light. Same thing happened with Weblena same thing here. 

Fox also says “that was glorious to watch” same man. That was freaking art. So our heroes split up into three plots. As usual for me

Team Gary: So yeah... Triobore’s pregnant. No way to really softball into that. He’s been pregnant this whole time. So we get a stupid and mildly horrifying gross out sequence with Gary having to look Triobore in teh eyes and Quinn having to “uncork him”. Which is code for ... you know what i’m not going to say it. If you’ve seen the episode you know and if not your better off not visualizing it trust me. Point is this whole sequence is dumb and the worst part of the episode by far. And the series CAN do good gross out. While Olan Rodgers regrets it, the pissing contest was one of the funniest scenes of season 2, and managed to make a gross idea on paper actually pretty damn funny. This.. this is just “Haha males giving birth and tribore’s an asshole”. There’s no joke here just a .. plug. .. gah.. the vomit is rising let me tell you. 

We do get something good out of this nightmare, Tribore’s son who hatches as the army of gary’s dig their way in, Quanstranstro, who rapidly ages into a stylsih spanish speaking adult badass. He is fucking awesome and a great addition to the team and the sheer.. oddity of his birth is wonderful even if the actual birthing was not. Then the climax happens so before that. 

Team Avacato:

Avacato and Co come across a sleeping giant robot cyborg .. thingy. Naturally Fox wakes him up. Little Cato remains not suprised. It occelates between panicking over it’s legs being gone and amenisa and is pretty damn funny. It’s voiced by John Dimagio. But it gets serious as we find out nothing has ever made it out of final space, and things.. change the longer there there. And Quinn’s been there several months if not a year. Whuh oh. This part is much better both due to better jokes and plot advancment.. though again Quanstrano is still fucking amazing. 

Team Bolo: Bolo meanwhile returns and fights a titan, and has mooncake help him rather htan join the others, but looses, hitting the planet with his body.. I mean he might not get back up.. but the impact shatters the caverns and causes an explosion. Everyone but Gary, Quinn, KVN and HUE are MIA, as our remaining party find earth floating overhead. 

TO BE CONTINUED> 

Final Thoughts: A decent start to the season. Like I said the whole birthing sequence can die in a fire and reminds me of the terrible comedy subplots adult swim wanted grafted onto two episodes.. but otherwise it’s a tense stark opener that sets up the bleak tone while still keeping the series rediciulous shenanigans in tact. It’s the perfect welcome back after so long. I mean the gay telepathy alone would make it a winner. 

Next Time on This Blog: We dive into a little history with HIsteria. See you at the next rainbow. 

[elatedmarvel]

Arms

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky learns to accept all parts of himself, even the vibranium parts. 

Word Count: 5,353

A/N: This is the longest one shot I’ve ever written, and it took me like a month. (I’m very slow lol). In keeping with BLM and inclusion, please let me know if you feel the reader is described a certain way that is not encompassing of all. I’ve tried my best, but I’m only human and editing is hard. Hope you enjoy!

He remembers when he first woke up with it. 

He could have sworn that he was dead, and he was in hell. All he could feel was pain everywhere, but specifically in his left arm. Pain he had never felt before and now he thinks he’ll feel forever. His parents always joked him that he would go to hell if he didn’t stop flirting with every skirt he saw, and now he wishes he could tell them they were right. 

Voices float above him, but he can’t make out what they’re saying, everything sounds garbled and distorted to his ears. 

It takes a moment for him to realize that the men are speaking in a different language. 

Blinding white lights greet him as he opens his eyes and squints against the harshness. Silhouettes of shapes is all his brain can comprehend, and he blinks a few more times before he is able to actually see.

The dingy room has seen better days. The walls are lined with tile, with mildew and mold in between them. It’s dark everywhere else, except the bright light that shines down on him. 

It’s hard for him to move his head side to side, let alone move the rest of his body, but he tries to wiggle his toes and fingers. 

A metal appendage lays at his left side.

He stares at the foreign object, trying to make sense of the fact that he can feel his left arm, but what he sees is not the limb he remembers.

His brain commands him to lift it, to see if this was real. When it not only moves where he wanted, but he can see his fingers wiggling, he realizes that this is worse than hell. 

He runs his right hand up the entire metal limb, and he can feel the dull sensation. His panic increases the higher he can feel metal. He gets to the edge of his chest before he feels flesh and bone again. 

Gasping, he claws at where the foreign object meets his chest, trying to get it off of him. The more awake he becomes, the more pain radiates from the arm, like his body was rejecting it. 

His sudden movements and noises of pain alert the men in white coats around him. He’s sure his eyes are frantic; he must look like a caged and frightened animal. 

They rush to him, trying to undo the damage he has clawed in.

When they get close enough, he grabs them both by the neck, trying to protect himself. This only causes them to start shouting and the doors burst open.

It’s hard for him to process what is happening, all he feels is adrenaline pumping through his body, and it reacts accordingly.

He can feel the pop of the bones before he hears the sickening crunch. If he was more aware of what was happening, he’s sure he would have thrown up.  

The man he grabbed with his left hand falls to the floor in a heap, unmoving.

In all his time serving with the howling commandos, he’s killed a few people, but never as intimately. He could just pull a trigger, throw a grenade, or stab someone. He’s never had to look them in the eye, and feel the life drain out of him. 

Sweat and fear pour out of his pores now, he didn’t mean to. His hand moved faster than he could react. 

Not his hand, the weapon attached to him now. 

The shouting only gets louder around him, but it’s muffled now. He stares in horror at the metal fingers, and the lifeless body on the floor. 

He can’t even feel when they prick him with a syringe filled with tranquilizer.

The image burns itself into his mind as everything grows dark.  

The next 10-15 years follow the same pattern. 

He wakes up slowly out of cryo. In his groggy state, he panics every time he sees the arm. He goes to claw at his chest where it is connected, but he’s eventually stopped when they realize he’s awake. 

They try to break him. 

Hydra does everything they can, any form of torture. But he’s strong. He resists every attempt, and finally they have had enough.

One day, they plop him in a metal chair and run currents through his skull. 

It takes 2 more years of this before finally he stops scratching at the arm. Before he fully loses himself.

~~~

When he finally escapes from Hydra’s grip, he hates the arm with everything in him. He tries anything he can think of to remove it from his body, short of just cutting into himself more. 

The arm only causes death and destruction. It is synonymous with Hydra and the evil he unwittingly committed. 

He still remembers how they thought they bestowed a great gift upon him, making him into the fist of Hydra. They think they saved him, but they chipped away at his soul until there was barely anything left in him. 

When Shuri was kind enough to erase the trigger words from his brain, she had offered him a new arm. One that was not tainted with the bloody memories of Hydra. 

It took him months of therapy, and many long, late night talks with Steve, Natasha, and Sam to accept the arm. He wanted to repent for the blood he has spilled, intentional or not, and he couldn’t do it with one arm. 

It was beautiful, gun metal grey with gold intertwining the plates. It reminded him of the exhibit that Steve had dragged him to at the Met. 

Kintsugi, Steve had told him. The art of repairing something with gold.

“It was never broken to begin with, just being made whole and better” Steve had said to them as they wandered around. He pretended the tears in his eyes were from the dust in the museum, and lightly punched Steve on the arm. 

~~~

You were in the ring with Sam. 

Someone new, and that scared Bucky. He had slowly built a relationship with the rest of the team in the last few months he had been at the compound, and trust didn’t come easy. Countless nights he would be invited to movies, or dinner and drinks. He turned them all down the first few weeks he had been there. It wasn’t until Sam and Steve literally dragged him to the bar that he started to open up.

You somehow got along with everyone on the team, and had won everyone over in a matter of weeks. You geeked out over the newest electronics with Tony, and tried to help Bruce with his research. Wanda and you had holed up in a room for days binging the newest season of some reality show you loved. Natasha and you had survived multiple Barre classes, something that even made Sam cry. You and Steve had even started painting to Bob Ross videos together. 

It was like there was a you-shaped gap waiting to be filled on the team. 

He watches from his sparring dummy as you tease Sam. You dance around him easily, and dodge out the way of yet another unsuccessful punch. 

His sensitive hearing picks up on Sam’s heavy breathing, but anyone could see the exacerbated rise and fall of his chest, and the buckets of sweat gleaming under the fluorescent lighting. 

You laugh as he tries to distract you with a kick and punch from opposite sides. 

“Nice try birdy” you call out as you evade him once more.

“Stay still!” Sam huffs, he hasn’t felt this out of shape since he was a chubby 13 year old with a love of cheetos and hate of exercise.

In his last effort to take you down, he swipes left and right, never giving up. You move further and further back, unsure how to handle the sudden change in tactics.

You don’t notice how close to the edge of the ring you are. 

Tony, being the dramatic shit he was, decided to build the sparring ring higher up then normal. Like a pedestal he once proclaimed. He wanted all to be able to watch.

Sam and you had forgone putting up the side ropes, wanting to get in as much sparing as possible. 

The fall was probably only a few feet of the ground, but definitely enough to sprain something, or even worse, get a concussion. 

He sees you near the edge, Sam still swinging a way. His lust for revenge prevented him from seeing you were about to fall.

Bucky leaps the 10 feet in between him and you right as your foot falls off the edge. He reaches up and puts most of your weight on his left arm, catching you before you fell to the floor, holding you for a few seconds before slowly bringing you to floor level.

He sets you down gently and almost laughs at the comical expression on your face. Eyes wide and jaw dropped, unable to comprehend what had just happened in the span of a few seconds. 

“I-I… thank you” you stuttered. Stilled flustered by the fall, but even more flustered that it was Bucky that caught you. You two had maybe exchanged 20 words total in the 2 months that you had been on the team. 

Bucky does a once over at you before nodding and walking back to the sparring dummy.

Sam watches this all with amusement, before coming down and offering to buy you ice cream to make up for the fall. 

~~~

Hit. Block. Punch. Duck. Repeat. 

Watching you take down your opponents was like watching a ballet. You were graceful, and lithe. Moving with your counterpart, they never even realized you were a threat until they were out.

Since your fall a month ago, you and Bucky have been growing closer. It was hard not to when you were so light and bright. It blinded him slightly, before he grew accustomed to the warmth he felt when he was near you. Now he never wanted to be parted from it. 

Naturally, when this mission had come up, Bucky had begged Steve to pair you with him. He knew he would only have peace of mind if he was with you at all times.

Not that you needed the help.

About a dozen men lay sprawled around you, and the last three were soon to join their colleagues on the floor. If they weren’t such vile men, he would almost feel bad for them. Being laid to waste by someone who didn’t look like she could hurt a fly. 

He registers the movement about a second too late, his mouth won’t connect to his brain and shout what he wants it to. One of the men you had already taken down lifts his head and arm, he just sees a flash of silver in the man’s palm before he sprints the length of the room. Your back is to him, and you still have 1 more attacker to take down, he takes all of your attention.

It happens in a second. You take your final shot at the henchman and then you see Bucky running to you. You feel the warmth of him as he embraces you, pulling you forward. The momentum causes you to stumble and brings you both down, you on top of him.

The ping of the bullet is thundering in the echoing, concrete room. He barely even registers the feeling before pulling out his gun and shooting the attacker. Watching for a moment to make sure he was actually dead, he looks down at you.

“Bucky” you stutter out, and he can feel your slight tremors. The whiplash must be settling in and the adrenaline wearing off, not a fun combination.

He looks you up and down, and even though he knows he blocked the bullet with his vibranium arm, he can’t help the anxiety that rises in his chest. He doesn’t see anything wrong besides the bruises and small scratches.

Meeting your eyes, it instantly takes the breath out of him. The look of pure awe spread on your face, but he can feel the admiration that is in your eyes,

It takes everything to not close the 5 inch gap to your lips and see if they are as soft as he’s imagined. 

“You ok?” he asks one more time, voice cracking from the dryness in his throat.

You nod up at him, keeping eye contact. 

Without a warning, you press your face into his neck and wrap your arms around him. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you” you say profusely. You move to sit on top of him in a flash and grab his left arm. He’s powerless underneath you as you examine the shiny appendage. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask, wonder in your voice as your fingers graze the sides of his arms. He’s glad for the pain he endured when they fitted him with this new arm, he can feel the softness and warmth of your hands, almost like if it were his own flesh. 

“No” he replies, eyes locked on where you hold his wrist.

Gently, so gently he can barely feel it, you press a kiss to the slight dent where the bullet impacted. Now he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. 

There’s a lingering heat where your lips touched, maybe even burning. 

If his mouth was dry before, it’s now the desert, and he clears his throat before looking away. His face is hot, and he’s thankful for the dim lighting in the basement. 

He misses the sly smirk on your face before you get up and offer your hand to him. 

~~~

After the mission, you had gone with him to get his arm repaired. He tried to tell you that it would take a few minutes at most and you didn’t need to go with him, but you just smiled and led the way. You held his flesh hand while they fixed some wiring issues and un-dented the hand. If he squeezes your hand more often than necessary, then who would know?

One month passes and he is always at your side. He goes more often to movie nights, team dinners, and outings. There’s always a spot right by your side, and it takes only a few days for everyone to know it was reserved for a certain brunette. 

The second month rolls around and it finds him as your permanent partner. Missions for two would always be assigned to you and him. You two would spar for hours on end, touches lingering for longer than needed. If you needed to run errands, he would be right there with you. 

Month three passes in a loving haze. It’s rare to see one of you without the other. Even nights were spent in your room after you had both fallen asleep while watching Star Wars. You made him come with you to your yoga classes, and he made you go with him to cooking classes.

It’s like the sun had finally come out. The permanent scowl and dark circles were replaced with grins and smile lines. He can’t remember the last time he was as carefree as he was around you. 

It was hard to ask you out. He was nervous. What if he misread the hand holding and cuddling? Could he go back to being just your friend if it didn’t work out?

But the moment he saw you across the gym, sweaty and heaving but with a giant grin on your face as you box with Steve, he knew it would be worth it.

So here he was, your favorite flowers in hand, buttoned up shirt and nice jeans adorning his body, walking to your door to pick you up for your first date. 

In the back of his mind, he mocks himself for being so scared to ask you. Your face had lit up when he had.

Knocking on the door, he steps away and gives himself a once over. He tells himself he’s not nervous, but the erratic beating of his heart tells a different tale. 

The door opens, and there you are. A vision in your favorite dress, small smile on your face. 

All he can do is stare dumbstruck at you. While you were always gorgeous to him, the fact that you had dressed up for him makes him want to cry.

“Bucky?” you ask, waving a hand in his face and giggling. 

“You’re stunning” he says back, hand coming up to rub his neck. He suddenly

remembers the flowers when he feels the water drip on the collar of his shirt.

“These are for you” and the smile on your face grows. You take a big whiff of them

before sneezing 3 times in rapid succession. 

“Guess I got carried away” you giggle, and just like that the nerves fade. 

The drive to the restaurant he had reserved was filled with would you rathers that made you laugh so hard, you couldn’t breathe. Your impression of the stuffy waiter had him choking on his water.

Everything was going so well, he let his guard down.  

The men in ski masks that came from the kitchen to round everyone up were a shock to both of you. Instantly, people scatter, some making it out of the door in time, and others being held hostage and led to the kitchen.

You can both tell when they realize they have avengers in their midsts when the guns turn to aim at you. He flips the table to its side as you move to duck behind it. Drawing a gun from your clutch, you hand it to him. Bucky was always the better shot. And you arm yourself with a widow bites and click the button on your Stark Watch 3 times in rapid succession. 

He hears the panic in their voices as they radio to each other. Obviously, they were not expecting any resistance, let alone 2 highly trained agents.

You look at him, and he knows exactly what you have in mind.

The moment you leap sideways and engage, he pops over the table and aims at anyone with a gun. You move quickly and gracefully around those that were foolish enough to actually engage you. He takes down as many as possible with the gun, and when the clip runs out, he engages the targets closest to you. 

Soon there is only 1 left, shaking and yelling at you both to back up. Bucky is pretty sure he’s new, the tremor in his voice and hands gives him away. It wouldn’t be that difficult to take him out.  

Bucky joins your side, and you both approach hesitantly, not wanting to spook him. 

“Stay back” he yells. Bucky sees the glint of green before the man fully pulls out the grenade. His heart sinks into his stomach.  

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” Bucky states, already wedging himself between you and the man. He calculates if there was anyway to get you out of the building. 

“Just stay calm, we’re not going to hurt you.” You say, laying the widow bites at your feet. Bucky does the same with his empty gun. 

His wild eyes keep glancing between you and Bucky. He slowly tries to inch his way towards the man, hoping he makes it to the grenade before he throws it. 

The stand-still comes to an end when the man pulls the pin and launches the grenade in the air.

“No!” Bucky shouts, and he pulls you both under the nearest table, his body covering yours. The deafening blast goes off right as you both get under the table.  

He feels your fast breaths against his chest, and he pulls your head into the crook of his neck. Arms in a braced stance, supporting him as he tries to keep his weight off of yours. He’s pretty sure the table above them cracked with the weight of the rubble falling on it. 

He looks down to your face and sees the fear in your eyes. It was one thing to be shot at, but another to be buried alive.  

“It’s gonna be ok” he whispers, and you nod. You know that Bucky would do everything he could to get you both out. Forcing yourself to take calming breaths, you knew it wouldn’t help to panic right now.   

Once he feels the dust settle, he braces himself against the broken table, trying to see if he could lift the ruble off of you both. There’s a groan as the concrete settles more firmly in place, but nothing lets up. 

The Stark watch on your wrist vibrates, and though he can’t see the screen, he knows it means the Avengers are coming. 

“Bucky” you say, voice trembling. It brings him back to the conversation you had about your biggest fears. Being buried alive was at the top of the list after falling into a pit when you were 7 years old. 

“It’s going to be ok” he tries to reassure, but the fear in your eyes has him trying to break you out. 

Slowly, he shifts his weight to his right arm, and braces the broken table with his left. Putting all his weight behind the vibranium arm, he pushes up. He’s not sure if the groans are from him or the concrete slabs, but he feels something pop and then shift above him. 

Suddenly, the weight feels lighter and he can hear the concrete falling. Hope bursts in his chest as more light floods into the burrow and space starts to expand.

Moving his knees and feet, he gets into a crouched position to give himself more power as the rubble starts to fall away. 

Your voice and encouragement gives him a surge of energy and he finds himself standing in the dusty opening of what used to be a restaurant. 

“Y/n!” he calls as he moves back down and cradles you in his arms, lifting you on top of the pile of rubble. 

“Bucky that was incredible!” you shout as he comes to join you and helps you down. Your arms come around his neck and before he knows it, he feels your lips against his. It takes a second for his brain to compute, and by the time he realizes that it was a kiss, you had already pulled away. 

“Thank you!” you shout again with glee as he chuckles. 

He tries to move in and capture your lips again, but the moment is ruined when a certain blonde super soldier clears his throat.

You both pull away, faces warm, to see the captain dragging to handcuffed criminals out of the wreckage. 

“Glad to see you’re both alive.” Steve states smugly, shooting Bucky a not so subtle wink.

“It’s all thanks to Bucky and his amazing arm.” you tell him brightly, pressing a kiss to the vibranium bicep before jumping into to help apprehend the rest of the men. 

Steve had never seen Bucky turn that shade of red before, and lets out a laugh as he escorted the men out of the restaurant and into the cars waiting outside. 

~~~

You’re not sure what triggers it.

One moment you're laying on the couch with your head in Bucky’s lap, content and happy while watching a movie. You’re half awake, no idea what’s going on in the movie, instead paying attention to the way Bucky’s fingers glide through your hair.

It happens suddenly, and you jump up. 

You pace for a moment, before breathing is hard, and the world starts to get blurry. A cold sweat breaks out all over your body and you swear you could throw up at any moment.

Lowering yourself onto the floor, you put your head between your legs and slowly start to rock. Blood rushes to your head, and all you can hear is the loud thumping of your erratic heart. 

Everything is reduced to the few inches in front of your face, you almost don’t notice the cool hand on your forehead, pushing away hairs and trying to soothe you.

You focus on the cold hand moving from your head to the back of your neck, and then going down to stroke and pat your back, before starting the cycle all over again. 

Bucky.

Slowly, you start to break through the surface. 

It takes a few moments, but you start to hear his voice calling to you, and you want to follow the warm sound. 

He moves your hand now to his chest, the gentle up and down continuing to bring you back, and it registers that he wants you to follow his breath pattern.

The first few are too shallow, the next few are too fast, but soon you match his calm in-and-out to a tee. 

Your name, smooth and gentle in his voice, finally reaches your ears. You listen as he tells you how great you are at matching his breathing. He switches between compliments, random, one sided small talk, and humming. 

The heat from his embrace and the coolness from his left arm creates a cocoon of warmth and safety, making you lose sense of time. The cramping from your legs is the only indicator that a significant amount of time has passed.

Sluggishly, you lift your head from Bucky’s chest and look up at his face. Intense blue eyes stare back at you, it’s not hard to tell that he’s trying to stay calm, but the slight worry in his eyes wasn’t hard to pick up on. 

Laying your head back on his chest, you feel his arms start to slide under you. Soon enough, you’re lifted up and he’s walking to what you assume would be your room. 

You close your eyes, when he doesn’t take the right to go down to your room, but continues straight into his wing. 

“Thanks Bucky” you mumble as he sets you on his bed and gets in himself.

Face to face, you use your finger to trace the slope of his nose and the edge of his jaw before bringing your finger to outline his lips.

Pressing a small kiss to the tip of your finger, he smiles before leaning in kissing your forehead. 

“I love you, doll.”

“Love you too.”

~~~

He can feel the drool on his face as he comes too. His face squished into the pillow underneath him, so hard, he’s sure he’ll have indents in his face.

One arm slung around a sleeping you, he breathes in, slowly waking up. Moving his arms, he can feel the soreness that settles in after a good night's sleep. 

A small sniffle from the nightstand catches his attention, and he realizes why he woke up. 

Gently, he crawls out of bed, and tucks in the remaining comforter around you, and grabs the device from the nightstand. He hopes you can get a little extra sleep, he’s pretty sure he fell asleep long before you got into bed. 

Bare feet meet carpet as he paddles down the hallway, a short walk to his destination. He waits outside of the door for a moment, listening for movement in the room. When he hears shuffling, and another small screech, he opens the door.

Against the adjacent lilac wall, a white crib is placed. A sleep dischevaled baby stands, clinging to the bars, blowing spit bubbles and babbling to herself.

As soon as she sees Bucky, her arms extend towards him and makes whining noises.

“Hey baby” he chuckles as he steps fully into the room, and picks her up, nervous that she’ll start screaming if he doesn’t.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, patting her back, and checking to see if she needed a diaper change.

The raspberry she blows answers the question.

Gently and efficiently, he sets about changing her diaper, talking to her all the while.

When he sets her upright to try and find a new outfit, preferably one that doesn’t have stains but the options are slim, she squeals again.

Quickly, he picks her up and sways her against his chest.

“Shh shhh shhh, don’t wake up mommy, you kept her up half the night.” Bucky implores. She tilts her head up at the sound of his voice, her eyes slightly wet and he knows she can’t help it. 

Rebecca was a good baby, usually did not fuss, ate like a champ, and slept well. But lately, she had been colickly. 

It had panicked Bucky at first, thinking she was sick or he was doing something wrong. You had quelled his fears by showing him the small bump on her gums, signalling that she was teething. 

Switching his right arm for her support, he brings a vibranium finger up to her mouth. Immediately, she latches on to the finger. 

He can feel the nubs of teeth about to break through the surface, and lets her chew on his cool finger for relief. 

It had started as a joke one day when the teething ring had melted and Becca still wouldn’t stop crying. In your half groggy state, you had stuck one of Bucky’s vibranium fingers in her mouth to let her chew on while you grabbed something else, he couldn’t quite feel the pain the same way his flesh fingers could. But, once Bucky’s finger was in her mouth, Becca happily chewed on it until she fell asleep. 

It was well known now that wherever Bucky was, Becca followed, gnawing on his fingers. 

“Does that feel better Becca?” she couldn’t even spare a second to look at her father, too busy drooling all over his hand.

With Becca in tow, he sits down in the rocking chair, hoping that he could get her to fall back asleep.

Holding her close, he hums some forget tune and rubs her back, moving them back and forth slightly.

The rigid dark grey was such a contrast to the soft baby skin around it, it startles Bucky sometimes.

The same arm that killed people and caused so much destruction was the same arm that his baby daughter used as a teething toy. She would never fear it, or see it as anything other than a part of him. 

He’s unfamiliar with the emotion that bubbles up in his chest and the tears that build up. Sniffling himself, he presses a kiss to her downy soft head, and cradles her underneath his chin.  

“You know, if it hurts that much, you can take it out of her mouth.” you say, startling him slightly. 

Padding into the room, you perch yourself on the armrest of the rocking chair and tuck your feet under his legs. You reach a head out to caress Becca’s perfect cheek, brushing away a few tears with your thumb, as her eyelids start to droop. 

“What are you doing up?” Bucky’s gravely voice cuts through the silence a few moments later. 

“I had a feeling you were getting sappy with her again” you tease. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by without Bucky marveling or crying about Becky in the short 7 months of her life. 

“I can’t help it, she’s perfect.” he whispers back, getting choked up again. 

“Oh babe” you coo at him. Dropping to sit in his lap, you place your head on his chest, just above Becca, and wrap your arms around him. 

He sits there for a while longer, slowly rocking back and forth. Every once in a while, Becca will snuffle and snore in her sleep and you both chuckle at the cute noises. 

Sitting there, arms wrapped around the loves of his life, he feels calm. 

He can feel your breathing start to even out as you follow Becca’s lead to slumber. 

It still amazes him how much you both trust him. Never looked at the thing that made him a killer with anything but love, and never treated him with any differently. 

There will always be scars, physical and emotional, but slowly falling asleep in his baby daughter's room, he knows everything will be ok. He’s not afraid anymore.

~~~

Thank you for reading! Feedback is always welcome!

[citrusella-flugpucker]

All 68 of my SU fics, apparently

((Because @novantinuum did it and then I wanted to do it and then they said “do it” and I took it as a dare

Compiling these gave me a sense of accomplishment. And pain. In my wrist.

Multi-line summaries nearly always squashed to lessen the vertical length of this post, even if most of it is below a readmore))

Multi-chapter fics, regardless of collection status (chronological order--oldest to newest):

And He Doesn’t Wake: My first SU fic, complete; “It can't end like this. Or: Waxing realistic as we examine the events of the episode "Bubbled".” Steven suffers halfway-realistic effects from being exposed to the vacuum of space. Probably not super canon compliant given what we learned in Growing Pains but a fic that branches off at Bubbled and rejoins canon around Mindful Education (and written around that timespan).

Diamond in the Rough: Incomplete; “Connie is in the hospital with a serious disorder, and her biggest chance is an experimental treatment combining minerals with blood transfusions. Little does anyone know...” Originally crack of “Connie gets powers from PD-infused blood” but then ASPR happened and I have to figure out where it goes now (and I want to! but...).

The Results Are In: Incomplete; “Sadie gets a piece of mail from her dad. For most people that'd be pretty mundane, but it's a little more complicated considering who exactly her dad is.” Barb/Blue Diamond crack (it makes sense in context) and affectionately called “Space Maury” internally for reasons that will make sense later. Has a similar but less “it flips the ENTIRE plot” issue with ASPR. I have many idea chunks but almost no connection between them

He’s Gone: Complete (and technically a oneshot with two “bonus chapters”); “Steven asks Peridot to get the shirt Connie got for him for his birthday from his closet. He says he wants to look nice. She's confused by his request. Greg and the Maheswarans are less confused and more terrified. He keeps saying it'll be okay. They'll be okay, even though he'll be going away. It'll just be a couple of days now. Or: Steven and Pink Steven are unable to fuse after being separated on Homeworld. That's not good for Steven.” Steven dies. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. Might potentially get an extra chapter or two still. Or not. Eh.

Thanks, Padparadscha: Incomplete/open-ended oneshot collection; “Stories about the best gem.” Padparadscha oneshots.

Your No-Good, Dirty-Rotten, Gem-Shattering, Rebellion-Leading Mother: Incomplete, little desire to finish; “What if Steven had gone to Camp Green Lake instead of Stanley? Or: If Steven Universe And Holes Were The Same Universe: A Fanfiction (thanks @captainjzh) Or, as the top of my Google Doc I started back exactly a year ago (*2019-01-07) says: SU x Holes: Because the fact that Steven Universe and Stanley Yelnats are both 14 is messing with me”. Wrote this as an exercise after reading the appalling original shopped screenplay for the Holes movie which was basically a nuclear fallout enthusiasts dream world but also quite possibly the worst and most uncomfortable thing ever written and I have had to have whole pages bleached from my memory

It’s Okay to Need Help: Incomplete (three chapters total planned), the last part of the pre-SUF-finale “Steven Corruption Theory” collection; “"Everybody needs support sometimes, and you need support right now, with this. And that's okay." She takes a deep breath. "It's okay to need help, Steven." Or: (Based in corrupted Steven theory as well as taking inspiration/using characteristics from a fic by @love-killed-the-superstar​) Sometime after coming back from corruption, Steven sees a therapist to try to hammer out some lingering issues.” Steven has specific lingering issues from corruption due to the way they had to mitigate it, and that affects how he communicates with his therapist some days. Just been blocked on the best way to write it

Waiting is Worse: Incomplete; “Is there anything more awful than the feeling of powerlessness?” The movie mostly ends the same, except Steven doesn’t un-rejuvenate.

Realism: Incomplete, strong desire to complete; “As much as he may want it to be, this is not a dream. He's not possessing anyone. It's not happening to someone else. It's real.” Steven has the same effects happen to him as the Watermelon Steven from Escapism--an arm and a leg are amputated.

The President Kisses Babies, and Other White House Briefs: Incomplete, open-ended oneshot collection with very little overarching plot; “Oneshot escapades of President Connie Maheswaran and her First Man, Crystal Gem and public speaker, Steven Universe.” Inspired by a Tumblr post and with more ideas in the pipeline! Love this fic even if I lost most inspiration for four years!!

Collection (series) oneshots (chronological order):

Citrusella Tries (And Succeeds!) to Write a Fic Each Day of the Bomb: A collection where I tried to write a fic each day of the HotCG (wedding) bomb. I succeeded but also kind of not? XD

Could You Imagine?: “Imagination is wish fulfillment. What are some of the things Pearl has imagined?” Now We’re Only Falling Apart

Partake In New Extraordinary And Pleasing Pizza Lover Experiences (Or: Kiki's Lament): “Kiki rarely hates her job. But she does hate pineapples.” What’s Your Problem? (Also the title spells PINEAPPLE o.o)

Acquired Taste: “Steven has a snack as he helps prepare for an important ceremony.” The Question

My Whole Life: “Some people are just born to go into certain careers.” Made of Honor

We Can Think About Hope: Incomplete multi-chapter with no hope of completion (why it’s not listed in the multi-chapters, BTW... also the “kind of not” regarding success); “What's going on? What do we do now? Can you still hear me? (Or: The end of Reunited plays out differently.) (Or or: And He Doesn't Wake: Part II: This time with weirder angst! And more not waking!)”

Citrusella's "Steven Corruption Theory" Collection: A collection of fics written on the corruption theory premise before it became canon. It’s Okay to Need Help not duplicated here but would be at the end.

Change: “Steven's come back from probably the most serious thing that's happened to him--save almost dying after his gem was ripped out--but that doesn't mean he came back unchanged. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

My Skin: “Steven does a mental inventory of what's changed about him since his uncorruption and finds himself starting to fall into a hole of self-criticism, until a song playing downstairs sets him straight. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

Eternity in a Moment: “It had only taken a few hours, and yet, an eternity.”

I Can't Say with Confidence: “Over an hour. He's been sitting in the tub, fully clothed, the bathroom a mess… for over an hour.It should be working! Why isn’t it working?!” Based on this art!

It’s Okay to Need Help

Happy Steven's Day!: Just after Steven discovers his mother is Pink Diamond, Mother's Day rolls around...Greg just doesn't want Steven to be in a slump about it anymore.

You Deserve All the Joy: “Because nothing is better than being surrounded by family and love. Or: Steven's once-a-year struggle with a holiday he doesn't exactly have the ability to traditionally celebrate.” It’s Mother’s Day and Steven is sad. Post-ASPR

Universe Day: “"Being your dad is the only present I really need." Or: Greg and Steven talk and realize their experiences with Mother's Day have been two sides of the same coin.” Post-SUF

Citrusella's Comfortember 2020 Fics: Fics written based on prompts for November 2020 Comfortember... not finished with it

Speed Bump: “Steven's first night on the open road isn't as smooth as he wanted it to be. Attempt to combine prompts 2-6 of Comfortember (prompt 1 just couldn't be squeezed in): "first day/night", "nightmare", anxiety", "cuddling", "afraid to sleep"”

In the After: “Steven wonders if it was corruption. Comfortember days 7-10, though only in the most tenuous, technical sense (and by that I mean all four phrases are mentioned): "blanket fort", "lashing out", "confession", "crying"”

Late Night Hot Chocolate (described in next section)

Zombie Club Chronicles: Steven endures a violent accident on Frightnight (Halloween) that changes his life forever.

Beach City Zombie Club

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Steven] doesn’t enjoy the Halloween season, but [Fill in: Steven] take(s) them on a well-meaning trip to an old Gem Ruin where they come to realize [Pick from list: They’ve made a terrible mistake in coming here]

On Frightnight when he is 17, Steven experiences the most serious event of his young life. Almost exactly a year later, Steven takes Steven to Lars' ship in hopes of being able to hop off at a truly secluded gem ruin to talk about something that Steven and Steven have been disagreeing on for several months. Lars has an idea, and Steven comes to a realization.

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

Late Night Hot Chocolate (also a Comfortember fic)

"Steven? What are you doing?" He stares into the pot.

The gem half's voice comes monotone. "Making hot chocolate."

"It's three o'clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making… hot chocolate?"

The slyness on his face is one pixel away from nonexistent and yet it's practically a traffic cone to his other half, as he remarks flatly, "Because I've lost control of my life."

Or: Steven and Steven both have nightmares that threaten to take them back to... that night... One copes by making the other hot chocolate and pretending he really isn't having any problems.

Comfortember days 16-18: Protective, Flashbacks, Hot Cocoa

Standalone oneshots (reverse chronological order--newest to oldest):

Rumble Strips:

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Greg] notices [Fill in: Steven] is in a somber mood lately. Out of the goodness of their heart they try to cheer up the sad soul in the only way they know how: [Fill in: WHO WANTS TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP?!]

"I really thought I could handle myself on my own." He scoffed. "Even my own therapist didn't think I could do it."

"I bet she thought you could handle yourself just fine. She probably just thought you'd do better with your support system close, bud. Like, literally, I mean." His eye weaved through the thin line of gravel past the edge of the shoulder. "You started saying some pretty concerning things."

Or: Greg and Steven stop on the side of the interstate on their way to Empire City for New Year's, to have a conversation.

For the Cluster Christmas Writing Challenge!

Auto-Injector: “In an alternate timeline, Steven meets Bluebird at her welcome party but he cannot, under any circumstances, try her hors-d'oeuvres. Or: Steven ends up with allergies because why not” (I have three more ideas for chapters)

Don't Put Beans Up Your Nose: “"I know you want answers, and I wish I had some for you, really, Steven, but from what you've described…  those aren't things to play around with. It's unethical to knowingly subject you to those for the sake of 'experimenting', even if you consent." Or: Steven asks Dr. Maheswaran a question she's not ethically able to answer.”

The Exor-schist:

Prompt: A series of events have led to a terrifying effect on one or more of the series’ characters. [Randomly roll from list: Mr. and Dr. Maheswaran] are now suffering from [Randomly roll from list: Spiritual Possession]. How did this happen?

"This corrupted gem, it has a powerful connection to organic matter. Ones this powerful have been known to overtake and even kill humans."

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

It's My Party and I'll Dry If I Want To: “You would dry too, if it happened to you! Or: Steven says he wants a pool party for his eighteenth birthday in Delmarva, after over a year of traveling the country. ...But why isn't he swimming?”

Ace Up Your Sleeve: “Or in your back pocket, same diff. Or: Steven's sad about potentially not getting to go to Pride.” (oneshot and an epilogue)

Milestone: “"Okay, so like, the books aren't, like, useless, but they assume you have like the perfect baby. Maybe consider the following: kids are dorks, man." Or: Steven went to the doctor. Once. Or: Greg thinks Steven, at 15 months, is being weird and missing milestones and is worried he's a bad dad so he goes to Vidalia for help.” May eventually be part of a babby Steeb over the years collection

Full Enclosure: “What am I going to tell you? You're better off not knowing the trouble I'm in. / I don't want you to worry about what I've just seen, about where I've just been. / You don't have to be a part of this, I don't think I want you to be! / You don't need this, you don't need me... Or: Steven defines himself by his connection to others. So when they all leave, then… he's no one. (In short: Steven is crushed by his need to be needed.)”

Vice: “He could stop whenever he wanted to. He just didn't want to. Or: Steven falls into a bad habit and tries to rationalize it as okay as long as he's not completely abandoning the idea of improving his life.”

Stairwell Solitude: “Over ten years, Greg wrote just six letters to his parents. What could they have contained?” Post-Mr. Universe

Striations: “At Connie's behest, Dr. Maheswaran makes a house call to Steven's place after his un-monstering. It's different than his last appointment, but its core is the same.”

Everything Stays: “Ever so slightly, daily and nightly, in little ways, when everything stays... Steven's therapist brings up something she's noticed about him outside his PTSD.”

I Do It For Me: “"Forgiveness is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offense, and overcomes negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance." Steven asks his therapist a question. The answer may surprise him.”

A Break in the Case: “Dr. Maheswaran takes a look at Steven's results but quickly finds herself in over her head.” Mid-Growing Pains

I have a couple entries in the @connieswap omake collection (Comic Relief and Same Old Steven)--I’m not linking them

Changing Tastes: “ Steven and Connie share a conversation after watching Crying Breakfast Friends: Under the Butterknife.”

Rejuvenated Regrets: “Someone calls Steven's name from downstairs. He's not listening closely enough to know who it is. He's not sure he cares right this moment. He wants Mom—Rose—Pink—and that's the one person he knows it's not.”

Gut Feeling: “Every time, he has to push his brain off that train of thought--what if she does it again?--but for someone with super-strength, he's surprisingly not very good at pushing.”

Lapis Watches Titanic (1997) ...There’s no summary

The Cluster Halloween Exquisite Corpse 2019 (I only wrote part of this!!): “Lars tells a horror story but loses track of it, or; a bunch of fic writers do an exquisite corpse and hilarity ensues. Written by DocCairo, citrusella, E350, love-killed-the-superstar and br42.”

Drift Away: “There are timelines where Steven fell into the biopoison when the Earth cracked under his feet. Here we see three times Steven (technically) lived despite a dive into pure poison, and one time he didn't.”

The Rose Wilts: “Once upon a time, he knew Rose. But he knew he didn't know everything.Sometimes it feels like he's learned more about her after she died than he ever knew while she was alive.“ Doug and Rose used to be friends

Tying the Knot: “Steven never wears shoes with laces, because he can't tie them. When Connie finds out, he's pretty chill about it.”

Haploid: “You're not sure if this is what being shattered feels like. You don't know if you want to be sure.” Mid-CYM

Thestral: “"How many have you seen?" "All of them." She answered without hesitation. "Oh." Or: Pearl and Steven talk about a type of gem that corruption has given some... special characteristics.”

500 Words a Secret Santa Gift: The Gratuitous Reference: “200 words a day, every day, until Under the Knife comes back. Or Crying Breakfast Friends. We're not picky at this point. Secret Santa edition! (A Secret Santa gift for @e350tb that deliberately and gratuitously references their 100 Words a Day series.)”

Sesimorp, Sesimorp: “A Lapis Lazuli makes a beautiful work of art.”

Ship Talk: “Lars and Steven share a moment on the Sun Incinerator.”

No Way Around It: “An order is an order.”

Give It A Try!: “Steven gets a Diamond to try something new.”

Better Off: “Peedee ponders what could have been.”

Steven x A Nice Calm Life Please and Thank You™: A Case for the Realization of a Bold New Ship: “Steven deserves a happy life free of interplanetary struggle and strife. It's my OTP. So I'm going to give him that! :D”

I Don't Know: “Will this ever make sense? Will this ever feel normal?” Post-ASPR

Force of Nature: “Her diamond gave her orders no longer.”

My Gemmortal (by XXXbloodstoneshardz666XXX): “the escupaids fo steven hardlight amnesia lion universe and his freinds n crushs” (this is exactly what it sounds like)

The Picture of Steven Pink: “It took a lot out of him.” (SU but Steven takes on the injuries he heals)

Self: “In the Connie Swap AU, Steven considers his identity and place in his family, community, culture, and himself. For a kid who at least tries to be all sunshine and rainbows, this isn't exactly the most fun thing to do, but sometimes it's necessary.” (these are different than the things in the CS omake collection)

I Really AM My Mom...: “"When you're singing, you want to use enough air that you could blow a throatful of peanut butter clear across the room." The crackiest of escape-from-Homeworld plots, based on a ClickHole article and a joke headcanon.”

Left: “Of course there's shame in bailing.”

Old shames (chronological order): Stories I just kinda cringe at now

Shrinking Rose: “Steven never felt bad about his stature. Until he did.” (I just don’t love it)

A Rose for Emily: “What if Rose wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone before Greg? ...It's safe to say she has a skeleton in her closet.” (less old shame than the others on this list but was hard to shoehorn in the A Rose for Emily style writing)

Alone: “Steven won't open up about how everything that happened is affecting him. Not even to himself.” (I know I’ve written other dark stuff but this one just hits different)

You Should've Asked Me, I'm Really Good at Naming Bands (November 2019 Unfinished WIPs): “(title subject to change) I did a challenge that I had to write my WIPs in November (revised to November and December) or be forced to post them unfinished. I got some updates done, but several not done. These are those stories. Dun-dun.” (only “shame” because they were things that were never finished--I also had a Connie Swap omake I was supposed to finish or the punishment was not to post it unfinished but to write Steven and Spinel (NOTP) but I just never did that)

[three-moons-watching]

Alternate Prophecy AU Timeline

For those who are interested!

I’m linking the parts as i write them, so if you’d like to read them in order, here’s the order!

if a part doesn’t have a link that means i haven’t written it yet. you are more than welcome to request that i write a certain part, just copy-past the part you want in an ask (anon or otherwise) and send it. limit one line (sentence bullet point thing idk what to call them) per ask but you can send multiple asks at once

i’m more than willing to answer any questions about this au if you’ve got any

this timeline is NOT final! the order of events might change and some of these lines might get squished together, but for now this is how the story is happening

i won’t be writing all of this in order, sorry

PLEASE DON’T REBLOG THIS POST - please don’t reblog this timeline post until all the parts are written and linked (anything linked is okay to reblog tho)

thanks for reading what I have to say! :D timeline under the cut!

-this post here explains the basics of what i did for the dragonets for this au

-starflight is in the lab writing down timelines for the rainwing prisoners and how the research is going to go in the coming months, and while he’s doing that morrowseer comes in to question him about the prophecy

-then morrowseer takes him away to meet the “dragonets of destiny” which are the alternate dragonets from book four, so flame, orche, viper, squid and fatespeaker. starflight is tasked with keeping an eye on them but as soon as morrowseer leaves them alone the dragonets immediately try to kill starflight

-starflight runs and hides like he does in the book and while he’s hiding he has a vision of the future. in this vision he sees five dragonets who are not the ones that just tried to kill him (he’s surprised to see that this future includes himself and not fatespeaker). they’re in the rainforest, which is not where he was expecting

-he decides that this means he needs to go see to it that this future happens, and all the timelines show that this is probably the best course of action

-i don’t know if he tells fatespeaker or not because if she tells him she’ll insist on coming along and idk how to write her yet so maybe not but idk for sure yet

-he goes to the rainforest and meets glory, who demands to know what happened to Orchid and Kinkajou

-when he doesn’t give her a straight answer she drags him off to meet jambu and threatens to knock him out with blowdarts while they swing all the way to the forest

-he meets jambu and suntime starts

-starflight sneaks back to the tunnels and runs into deathbringer, who agrees to take him to the mud kingdom

-they fly to the mud kingdom and glory follows them, deathbringer gives him advice about living on his own in the world and then they get caught in a battle and separated

-starflight almost gets burned but is saved by clay and asks him and his silbings about the prophecy

-after things are sorted and he recruits clay into saving the world with him (maybe he spends a few days in the swamps? idk yet) starflight says he’s going to try the skywings next and deathbringer is like “oh no no no don’t go anywhere near the skywing palace, scarlet will find you and you will fight in her arena”

-so he doesn’t do that and deathbringer takes him back to the rainforest where glory leads them to the village, deathbringer meets the rainwings and jambu asks them where they’ve been for the last couple days

-(i’m debating having jambu x deathbringer be a thing cause it was brought to my attention that that’s a ship and i think it’s fun so if ur reading this lemme know ur thoughts about that)

-deathbringer has to go and starflight decides maybe the seawings are next on his list to recruit a dragonet, so he makes plans to go the rainforest and glory and jambu insist on going with (glory so she can keep an eye on him and jambu cause glory is going and it sounds fun)

-then they either meet riptide and tsunami out in the middle of nowhere in the sea kingdom

-or they find the summer palace and fall through the ceiling and meet tsunami that way

-tsunami either brings them to the summer palace or after starflight falls through the canopy one of my ocs, prince oyster, talks to starflight about eggs and things and takes him to a dragon that knows about hatcheries and other dragons that might know more about eggs that hatched on the brightest night

-after talking to urchin, oyster takes starflight to wait in a cave so he can meet the queen and uh. starflight meets the queen and possibly blister but i have no idea

-more things happen here, they probably go back to the rainforest

-starflight starts making plans to go to the desert and jambu says he’s had all the fun outside the rainforest that he can handle so he stays behind and glory and tsunami don’t like each other but also just kinda vibe and exciting things

-anyway somehow they go to the desert and the scorpion den and they meet sunny and thorn and qibli and six claws and ostritch (and i love basically every sandwing in this series guys i might have to turn myself into a sandwing for a while cause they’re all just so cool)

-starflight asks about the prophecy (he falls in love with her at first sight, he thinks, but she’s aro/ace so she doesn’t feel the same (also i’m giving sunny freckles cause i can)

-things happen, he recruits sunny and then at this point all they need is a skywing, which, according to the futures is going to be hard.

-starflight, glory, tsunami and possibly sunny decide it might be a good idea to get clay before they try any skywing-recruiting endeavors, so they make plans to go find clay in the swamps

-they don’t take the tunnels, which was their first mistake. Starflight gets annoyed at his new, incredibly loud travelling companions, and does the raindrop/ocean waves mind reader blocking trick and it works a little too well when a skywing patrol sneaks up on them and captures all of them

-the arena is terrifying. glory manages to get away so she’s not scarlet’s ‘art’ but tsunami and starflight are trapped on their spires. there’s no clay here

-tsunami has to kill her father

-starflight and tsunami are tasked to fight every icewing in the arena, but glory appears out of nowhere and venoms all of them, which leads to peril being let out and more venom spraying and scarlet getting hit and the skywing palace going into uproar, and starflight gets a mind reader headache

-anyway. somehow they escape, maybe with peril’s help or maybe not, and basically meet clay how clay meets his siblings in the first book, by going to the mudwing swamps.

-and again that’s all i’ve got for now but i’ll keep thinking about plot stuff

Other notes:

-this covers ONLY the first arc. i don’t know how to lead this into jade mountain so this au ends after the war unless i can think of a way to make JM happen

-I DO want peril to be friends with the dragonets, i just don’t know how to pull that off yet

-dune is dead, not sure how

-kestrel is dead because of the whole twin egg incident trial thing

-webs is hiding with the talons of peace, he might be a teacher to the false dragonets or something idk

-i don’t know how all the events in the books are going to go down but i want glory to be queen someday and things with the summer palace will go down and starflight will go blind because of the volcano, probably, but i’m working all of that out

-glory will eventually be queen

-the summer palace might be destroyed somehow idk yet

-the volcano will erupt and starflight will go blind, but that might happen after the war ends

-i don’t exactly know if and where they’ll meet the sandwing queens but i’m working on that

if you read this far honestly thank you so much for being interested!! i’m very open to ideas, questions, requests and literally anything else so don’t feel shy about reaching out, my inbox and dms are always open :D

that’s all from me so far! i’ll work on this for as long as my hyperfixation lasts lol

[peachiemin]

underground | taehyung (m.)

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

word count: 24.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re mistaken,” Taehyung responded cooly.

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

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

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

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

“Oh fuck,” Taehyung hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Vante,” You mumbled.

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

“He?”

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

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

“He’s killed many of men bu—“

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

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

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

“At least go scope it out for me.”

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

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

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

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

“This is official police work.” One grunted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, thank you.” You smiled.

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

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

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

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

“Just a con artist named Kim Taehyung.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” Jimin hissed.

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

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

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

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

“Let me ask him first,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, as well as ten percent.”

“Deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what piece is that?”

“The Grande Odalisque,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Noted,”

Namjoon finally let loose and walked away. 

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

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

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

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

Taehyung chuckled, “I’ve been good,” 

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

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

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

The sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the shop, Jungkook grunting as the mysterious bullet settled into his chest. 

“Oh fuck!” Taehyung called out, watching as Jungkook cupped his chest, blood painting his hand. 

“I’ve been shot,” He whimpered.

Before Taehyung could even get the young man to safety, another shot sounded off, hitting Jungkook once more in the chest. A pained screamed left his lips before he collapsed on the ground, his body lifeless. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Taehyung panicked, ducking down between the two cars, pulling his colt out of his pocket. 

Another shot went off, the bullet smashing the mirror off a car, glass falling onto Taehyung. Perching up, Taehyung saw a man ducking behind a car. Cocking his gun, Taehyung sent a shot towards the man, the bullet ricocheting off a car. 

“Taehyung,” 

The gruff voice of Yoongi calmed Taehyung’s nerves a bit. Yoongi stepped over Jungkook, groaning at the site but quickly sent another bullet towards the man who dodged it, making Yoongi growl. 

“Leave through the back, Taehyung. I’ll pick you up once I kill this fucker.”

Taehyung nodded, quickly rising to his feet, gunshots going off once more. Finding himself in the back, Taehyung took off, panting as he looked for a place to duck until Yoongi would get him but he was soon rammed into the wall, a huff of air escaping his lungs.

“Give me the painting,”

“What?” 

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows, a French-sounding man had him pinned against the wall, his gun settling between his fingers in one hand. 

“Give me the painting,” He growled once more.

“I think you’re mistaken,” Taehyung shot back.

“I know you have the painting,” He urged on, pressing Taehyung harder into the wall.

“What fucking painting?” 

“The Grande Odalisque!”

Before Taehyung could even answer, the man's body was slung off Taehyung, the Audi stopped right in front of him. 

“Get in!” Yoongi called.

Taehyung glanced at the man who was groaning, rolling his body around on the ground before getting in the car. Backing the car out, Yoongi sped off, the only sound was the pants of Taehyung. 

“We need to meet up with the Detective…Now!”

You leaned against the table, your head hanging between your shoulders. A soft sigh escaped your lips as your eyes graced over the report for the fiftieth time it seemed. Jimin was sat beside you, his hair flopping over his forehead, his eyes scanning the same file you were currently looking at. You couldn’t understand what the significance of this Ingres piece. “Alright,” You mumbled, standing up straight, “We’ll just start from the beginning again.” A groan passed Jimin’s lips, “Miss Choi began cleaning the Ingres piece Tuesday evening, her helper already gone and locking her home up beside the backdoor of her art studio. By herself, Miss Choi had no suspensions but there was someone creeping in her backyard who then came to her window, silently opening it and sneaking through—“

“How didn’t she hear them?” Jimin scoffed, rubbing his hands against his face. 

“Either way, her throat was slit and the Odalisque missing.” 

You leaned back against the table, your eyes gazing at the photos that the police department sent over. From the looks of it, Miss Choi had to have been in her late seventies. Sighing, you crammed all the photos into a pile, placing them back in their designated folder. 

“I just don’t understand the significance of this piece.” 

“Which is why I’ve brought Taehyung into this case,” You answered, tossing the file on top of Taehyung’s file. 

Before Jimin could send you a snarky response, your phone began buzzing, a restricted number shining on the screen. Glancing up at Jimin, you answer the phone, static quickly filling your ear. 

“Hello?” You grunt, pulling the phone slightly from your ear.

“Is this Detective _____?” The voice rang.

“Who’s speaking?” “Taehyung,” Your eyes widen, mouthing his name to Jimin.

“Find out anything?” “Meet me back at my mansion now.” He ended the call, a soft sigh leaving your lips. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you gather the files and leave Jimin with a confusing look on his face. The ride to Taehyung’s was fast, your mind filling with questions. His hitman was out in the front already waiting for you, a new scratch adorning his face. Sending you a curt smile, he led you to a different room. A large table and books adorned the room and Taehyung sat at the end of the table, a finger pressed to his lips and his eyes zoned out. “Taehyung,” His head jerked up, his lips falling into a frown. “Sit,” His voice rumbled. Your thighs clenched at his voice. Sitting down beside him, you sat the files down on the table, his eyes landing on his in particular. “Do you really have to carry that fucking thing around with you?” You sighed, “Why’d you have me come here?” “Come sit down, Yoongi.” His hitman, who now has a name, sat down in front of you, his eyes landing on you. You studied his face, a cut going through his eyebrow and a bandage peeking out from underneath his shirt. “People think I have the missing Odalisque.” “Well do you?” You quizzed. “No,” He shot back, slowly breathing as he sent you a glare, “I didn’t even care for that fucking piece. Not only that,” He continued, “The man who tried to kill me today killed my fucking car guy! He was two years shy of my age and now he’s dead.” You choked on your spit, eyes wide at the comment, “Someone tried killing you?” “He’s not from here. He sounds like he’s from France but from the information, I gathered earlier, that Odalisque had last been seen after the Battle of Bayonne.” “And when was that?” “1814” You sighed, hanging your head low as you tried understanding all the information that was given to you. If that painting was last seen in 1814, then how did Miss Choi get ahold of it? “There’s said to be only one in the whole world,” Taehyung piped up, “but, if that’s the case then I don’t understand how that woman got ahold of such a painting.” “Maybe there’s more than one painting,” You whispered. Grabbing her file, you open and disperse the photos on the table, Taehyung and Yoongi grabbing random ones. “Oh god,” Taehyung grumbled, tossing the photo of her neck onto the table, “There must be something pretty significant about this painting if someone is willing to slice an old woman’s throat up like that.” “I know,” You mumbled, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, “I feel like there’s no lead. We know all that we can know.” “Do you think you can take us to the crime scene?” Taehyung quizzed. “I don’t see why not,” Gathering your files, you take your own self out, Taehyung and Yoongi following behind. You have officially decided that this case was going to be the death of you and it only truly started today. You mentally groaned, your nerves making your fingers twitch with anticipation. You wanted this whole case to just blow over but in reality, the man behind you that talked of art intrigued you. You normally weren’t one to fall in love so easily at first sight but this man, this dashing young man whose hair was as black as night and his beauty out of this world, you couldn’t help but fall in love. Thankfully for you, you were good at hiding your emotions, good at not showing the fact that anytime he flicked his eyes towards you or licked his plump ass lips, he couldn’t tell that your stomach flipped and heat pulled between your legs. As you arrived at the crime scene, the sky had darkened and rain slowly began falling. You had informed her helper that you were coming, leaving the backdoor open for you. Motioning for Taehyung and Yoongi to follow, the two had odd sayings about the house, making comments on everything they saw. You wanted to laugh but you were here on duty. Opening the backdoor, Miss Choi’s helper sat in the studio, her face not as rosy and her eyes not as swollen, she seemed better. “Hi,” You said softly, sending her a smile. “Hello,” “This is Kim Taehyung and his bodyguard Yoongi, they’re helping me on this case.” Both men sent her a smile, rummaging around. “Detective ______, I found a camera in her drawer when I was cleaning,” The helper started, grabbing an envelope from the table that sat beside her, “Miss Choi always took pictures of her progress.” She smiled, holding back tears as she spoke of the late Miss Choi. “I printed all the pictures that had the painting in them. I hope this helps.” Thanking her, the young girl left once more, leaving you with Taehyung and Yoongi. Sighing, you found yourself standing at the same table she was murdered at once again. “Oh god,” Taehyung gagged making you jerk your head towards him. Two of his fingers barely grasping a sheet of paper that had a note written on it. “Love your bug…” He gagged once more. You walked over and took the paper from him, scoffing. Your eyes scanned the note which was written in crayon and had a smiley face drawn at the bottom. “She had children,” He cringed, his body shuddering as he moved to another spot of the room. “Whose bug?” You murmured, placing the note back onto the table. Turning around, you noticed Taehyung throwing his head back with wine pouring into his mouth. “Taehyung you can’t move anything from the crime scene or drink anything at that.” He wiped his mouth, “Sorry,” Walking back to the table, you shuffle through the pictures once again, nothing deeming itself important. “There’s nothing important in these photos,” You groan, wanting to throw a whole tantrum but the presence of Taehyung standing beside you seemingly calmed you down. His thick fingers began shuffling through the photos, tossing some that weren’t important until he stopped on one picture, bringing the paper closer. “What is it?” You quizzed, standing on the tip of your toes to view the picture. It was an accidental picture; her face filling half the picture but the painting was gently bent in half in the background. “Hm,” his voice rumbled, dropping the rest of the pictures in his hand onto the table, “There’s a set of numbers on the back of the painting.” “And why does that matter?” “Because,” He sighed, shoving the picture into his coat pocket, “The only reason there were ever numbers on the back of paintings, back in those times, were numbers to riches.” “What kind of riches?” “Money. Loads and loads of money.” You nodded your head, resting your weight against the table, crossing your arms against your chest. “And what will we do with numbers to an account that we have no way of accessing?” You quizzed, looking up at the man who was nibbling on his lips, his mind wondering the same as you. He sighed, throwing his head back as he brought his hand up to his face to rub his jaw, “I hate that I’m even suggesting this—“ “What?” You interrupt. “Let me speak,” He mocked, sending you a smirk once your face showed annoyance, “I know of an English man who can enter these numbers and find how much money is involved.” “And who's this man?” “Charlie Mortdecai.” “Mortdecai…” You mumbled. “Another successful art dealer like me but he’s more on the broke side while I’m rolling around in money.” “God you people are everywhere,” You scoffed. His laugh filled the room, your cheeks flushing at the sound. “Yes but it pains me to say this: we need to fly to London.”

The flight over to London seemed long and quite terrible at that. Taehyung and Yoongi kept your ears—well mainly Taehyung—kept your ears filled with nonsense. He spoke of how terrible the wine was, how you were so quiet and the best one of all, he asked about your love life. You wanted to blush, tell the sweet man that you had a man to yourself but you found yourself telling the truth, letting him know that you haven’t dated since you entered the detective field. This however made his ears perk. He found you attractive and you found him attractive—or from what he could tell—he found no problem in you two talking.

Sadly, what made things tenser, was the fact that you had to share a room with Taehyung. The hotel ended up messing up the rooms, giving Yoongi a one-bedroom stay with a queen-sized bed and left you and Taehyung with two full-sized beds which were arm lengths apart. You tried entertaining the thought of you and Yoongi switching rooms but all you got was a grunt and a small laugh leaving Taehyung’s lips as his grumpy hitman slammed the door in your face, a pout settling on your lips.

“I don’t understand why you’re laughing,” You huffed, roughly shoving the keycard into the slot.

“Yoongi is not someone who would give up a one-person room,” He hummed, shutting the door behind him as you chunked your suitcase onto a nearby chair.

“And why’s that?” You hiss, crossing your arms which only made him laugh more.

“He likes to hook up with people,” He replied calmly, “I don’t blame him though. If I could end up with random girls every night I would.”

You cocked your head to the side, “Why can’t you? You’re drop-dead gorgeous.”

Taehyung chuckled, throwing his long body on the bed, his black curls laying neatly on his pillow, “I’d rather get myself involved with a smart woman. Someone who is a challenge keeps me on my toes.” His eyes darted to you, his wet muscle coming out to graze his bottom lip, your stomach flipping at the sight.

You only nodded your head though even though your stomach, mind, and vagina all said something different. Taehyung was completely your type but you knew deep down it wasn’t right to get involved with him because of his lifestyle but you’re highly considering throwing the lifestyle in the back of your head and hopping on his dick. The thought made you throb and by the way he’s staring at you, you could tell he sensed the sexual tension in the room.

“You know,” He sighed sitting up, his eyes roaming your body, “I didn’t expect you to be so tolerable.”

You chuckled, grabbing your bundle of files from your suitcase, “And why’s that?” You mused, the sound of the files hitting the bed making a thump.

You could hear a soft sigh, “Can you not worry about this case for one second?”

Before you could reply, the feeling of his body pressing against you caused your hand to shake. His body over towered you, the feeling of his hands lightly ghosting your skin sent shivers down your spine.

Stepping back, you glance up at him, his eyes already staring back at you, his breath lightly fanned your face. Your throat clamped up, the sight of him licking his lips once again making you want to grab him by his hair and pull him into a kiss.

“You’re so beautiful,” He hummed, wrapping his hands around your elbows, bringing your body into his softly.

“Taehyun—“

“I know you feel it too,” He whispered, his fingers lightly rubbing the soft skin, “The sexual tension that’s filled the air between us. Yoongi can’t stand being around us,” He chuckled.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gently removing yourself from his grip, rushing to the bathroom, slamming the door shut before locking it.

Soft pants left your lips as your heart thrummed like it never has before. How dare he speak what you’re only thinking. You didn’t think any sexual tension filled the air but knowing that Yoongi didn’t switch just to escape you two made your cheeks flush. You and Taehyung have hardly had any time together, this case just now skyrocketed and now you find yourself stuck in London with a handsome ass man.

Sighing, you flush the toilet and act like you’re washing your hands. You quickly threw water on your burning face before leaving the bathroom, Taehyung nowhere in sight.

Letting out a breath of relief, you walk towards your bed to lay down until Taehyung and Yoongi barge in, Yoongi letting out a scowl at the sight of you.

“Mortdecai is ready to meet us,” Taehyung mumbled walking over to his suitcase, placing his gun on his hip before turning back around, his eyes soft as they look at you.

Nodding your head, you follow the boys out and sit in silence as you made your way to wherever Mortdecai was meeting. The streets of London made your mouth drop in awe. You wanted to stop and sightsee but you know that would only cause Yoongi to growl and Taehyung to scoff at your touristy attitude. The rude there was in complete silence. Taehyung seemed tense, his eyes frantically searching through the streets as they whizzed by. The girlfriend side of you wanted to hold his hand, rub the soft skin for comfort but the detective side of you wants you to mind your own damn business.

The car suddenly came to a halt, Taehyung’s hand nudging at your thigh gently before you finally opened the door. Before you were a tall marble building that had people floating in and out. Taehyung thanked the driver before slamming the door, his large body covering yours as he walked off, Yoongi’s following right behind.

“Where are we?” You quizzed, lightly jogging to catch up to the two who seemed too nervous to be seen in public.

“He wanted to meet us at this library,” Taehyung mumbled, holding the door open for you, the cool air sending shivers down your body.

Nodding your head, Taehyung quickly glanced around before a man with a black turtleneck and bald head walked up, “Kim Taehyung?” He grunted.

Taehyung nodded his head, “And you must be Jock,” He smiled.

The man quickly nodded his head before walking off, you three following quickly behind as he led you into a back room.

Another man was present, his back facing you as he brought a wine glass up to his lips. The room was filled with books and beautiful art pieces decorated the wall. There were so many beautiful things about London and honestly, you were willing to spend another day here just to explore.

Turning your focus back to the man, his lean figure finally turned around. You wanted to grimace at the sight: a dark brown mustache took home on his lip, his brown hair slicked back and his body decorated with a burgundy velvet suit. A sly smile was placed on his lips as he looked at Taehyung and Yoongi.

“Ah, the best dealer from Seoul,” He started, throwing his head back, the wine disappearing in a split second, “What brings you here to London?”

Before Taehyung could answer, Mortdecai’s eyes fell onto you, his lips pulling up into a smirk, “And who is this?” He continued.

Taehyung turned around, his fist clenching at his side, “This is my girlfriend, _____.”

You choked on your breath, your eyes wide as Taehyung sent you a tense smile before turning back to the man. Girlfriend? Why would he tell Mortdecai that you were his girlfriend? Also, his English was magnificent, you wouldn’t be able to tell that his first tongue was Korean. You wanted to speak up and tell him that you were, in fact, one of the top detectives in Seoul but Taehyung gave you no time to interject before he answered Mortdecai’s first question.

“There’s been a piece that has gone missing,”

“And what does that have to do with me?” He chuckled, pouring himself some more wine before finding him a seat.

Taehyung huffed, “There has been a murder in Seoul. This woman was cleaning this piece and someone stole the painting and slit the poor woman’s throat. Thankfully we have pictures of the missing piece,”

Taehyung turned his body towards you, your body flinching before handing the packet over. His fingers lightly grazed yours as he took them from you, a soft smile settling across his face as he turned around, handing the packet over to Mortdecai who quickly pulled the photos out.

“Ah,” He hummed, “The Grande Odalisque. This piece is magnificent and there is said to be only one in the world,” He quickly flicked through the rest of the photos before tossing them onto the table beside him, “So, what does the missing of this Odalisque have anything to do with me?” His head crooked to the side as he sent Taehyung a warm smile.

Digging in his coat, Taehyung pulled another photo from his pocket, “There’s a set of numbers written on the back of this piece. According to Kim Namjoon—“

“Ew,” He fake gagged, “What a horrible man. What’re you doing talking to him?”

Taehyung only laughed, “Anyways, Namjoon mentioned that this painting was created around the time of the Battle of Bayonne, said that the French lost and the painting missing.”

Mortdecai sighed, “Then there is more than one Odalisque in the world.”

“Which is why I am come to you,” Taehyung hummed, “I need you to look up these sets of numbers and see if these numbers link to an account of any sort.”

Standing up, Mortdecai took the picture from Taehyung, his eyes tracing over the set of numbers before motioning for you to follow. You all follow behind as he leads you through the various rows of books before coming to a separate part of the library, his fingers tracing the spines before landing on a huge, leathery book, his hand wrapping around the thick pile of paper before dropping it on the table, a soft cough leaving your lips as you swat away the dust.

Mumbling to himself, he quickly skims through the pages before landing on The Grande Odalisque, the page shaded brown as age catches up to it. You all swarm the book, Mortdecai silently reading to himself before mumbling an aha.

“According to this, the Odalisque was created in 1814 and as you mentioned, the French did lose the battle but the Odalisque was not ruined.” His finger continued skimming through, “Also, right here it mentions that the United Kingdom got ahold of the painting, replicating the masterpiece for the sake of hiding the secret account.” Shutting the book, your body slowly jumped as he sent a short smile to Taehyung, “Your friend, Namjoon, was wrong. There is another piece out there with the correct bank account.”

“Wait,” Taehyung yelped, “You mean to tell me that the numbers plastered across the one that is missing is not the correct bank account?”

“Mm, no,” He whizzed, placing the book back on the shelf, “Someone, somewhere placed that incorrect account on the back of the fake painting.”

“Then where is the other painting?”

Mortdecai sighed, “That I don’t know,” He mumbled, “But, I do have an idea.”

“How the hell is that going to work, Taehyung?” 

Tossing your jacket on your suitcase, you fold your arms and glare at the man who only ran his fingers through his hair, shrugging his jacket off before looking back at you. 

After you all found out some more details about the Odalisque, Mortdecai suggested that Taehyung lies to a famous art dealer over in America named Simmons. The idea was dumb and by the way, Taehyung has stayed silent, the plan is going to fall through. Mortdecai wants to sell the Grande Odalisque to Simmons, letting him know that himself, Taehyung would be there. The idea was crazy. Many wrongs could go down but Taehyung seems to trust this man, agreeing after Mortdecai assured him the plan would work because according to him, ‘Simmons is a dumb buyer who will buy anything from him’. You wanted to trust him, to know that this plan will work but it seems too risky and if things don’t go right, there is no telling what could go down. You have never been involved with the underground art world but from studying Taehyung’s files, many murders happened secretly that even the police didn’t know about. 

“It’ll work, I promise.” His voice was soft, almost soothing you but you were still worried. 

“How are you so sure? You don’t even know this Simmons guy but you’re willing to fly not only yourself but for me and Yoongi over to California to sell a painting that none of us have,” You continued. “How is that going to work, Taehyung? We don’t know where these paintings are but you’re going to sell a fucking painting?” You bring your fingers up, putting sell in quotations as Taehyung looked at you with a smirk.

“Listen,” He hummed, sitting on the corner of your bed, “This will work. Even though I hate saying this, I trust Mortdecai.” 

“Then why hate saying it?” You urged, crossing your arms.

“I typically do my deals on my own but Mortdecai is someone I would do a risky sell with.” 

You scoffed, pushing your hair back as you pondered the plan in your head. Taehyung was stupid. You were stupid. All three of you were stupid for even coming here to London. This painting was stupid, the woman was murdered and like the others, it sure didn’t seem to hurt to sweep those murders away so why not sweep this one away? 

Fuck, you groaned, that’s not nice, you thought to yourself. You threw your head back in annoyance before trailing your eyes back to Taehyung who already had his eyes on you. A soft smile grew on his lips. Standing up, Taehyung made his way over to you, his hands gently coming out to lace around your elbows once more, sparks igniting across your body. 

“How about we go out and explore, hm? I saw you staring with big, bright eyes at everything we passed.”

You were taken back. Taehyung was willing enough to take you out on the town, to spend one-on-one time with you. A smile drew on your face before you nodded. “Good,” He hummed, letting go of your elbows to put his jacket back on, “Let’s go.”

Shrugging your jacket back on, you follow Taehyung out. Your heart was fluttering. Relief filled your body because although you’ve had feelings for Taehyung since the day you met him, you haven’t had any time to truly know the man, to figure him out, to know why he does what he does. You had plenty of questions to ask him and tonight deemed itself to be the perfect night to do so. Although your detective-state-of-mind wanted to stay back to talk about action plans, this seemed to calm you and that is all you need before the true storm comes. The cold night air sent shivers down your spine, your body automatically trembling. Noticing this, Taehyung slips his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you into his side, your cheeks flushing at the action. You both walked in quiet as the night lights preoccupied your mind anyways. The view was breathtakingly beautiful, almost as beautiful as Seoul at night. Although this is fun, you miss home. You miss Jimin, Hoseok, and even your strict boss Seokjin. “There is a really good restaurant down the street here,” Taehyung smiled down at you. Nodding your head, you followed Taehyung’s lead. For the rest of the walk, you two stay in complete silence. At the end of the street, there were fairy lights decorating the roof, plants dangling off the rails and the atmosphere soothing your nerves. “It’s beautiful,” You mumbled, mouth dropping in awe as you two waited for a table. The waitress took you two to the back corner, the lights dim which made the atmosphere more romantic. Taehyung was being a complete gentleman. Pushing you up to the table, draping your jacket across your chair and letting you choose whatever you wanted on the menu. Something about this made your heart flutter and all you wanted to do was smile so widely but you didn’t want to put your guard down too quickly. “How did you find this place?” You mused, swirling the wine around in the glass. “I found this place when I made my first art sell here.” “How long have you been doing this? The whole underground art world?” He chuckled, “So that’s what you all call it? Underground…” A boxy smile shined back at you, your heart melting at the sight, “I’ve been doing this since I was twenty.” “Wow,” You gaped, “and you’re already such a well-known art dealer.” “For someone who works for the government, you seem pretty proud of how far I’ve come.” He raised an eyebrow at you, heat pooling in your underwear. “There’s a lot of things that I find myself fond of about you.” You admit shyly. He cocked an eyebrow, “And what’s that?” You coughed, “Well…you love what you do, you are very hardworking, you let nothing get in your way and you’re very smart…” You glance up, sending him a shy smile before dropping your guard completely, “and you’re very handsome, someone that I wouldn’t mind looking at all the time.”

A low growl emitted from his chest, “Is that so?” His deep timber voice traveled.

You slowly nodded your head, ready to respond but the sight of the food being placed down threw you completely off guard. Whatever you had to say could be said later but the way Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you seemed that he didn’t care for the food, only you. Ignoring the stare, you place some food in your mouth, a low moan slipping from your throat at the delightful taste that this food brought. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Taehyung tense up, his knuckles going white as they gripped the poor metal fork.

Dinner went by tensely. You could feel the sexual tension in the air as you both ate, walked home, and now as you both stand a couple of inches apart in the elevator. You didn’t know if anything was going to happen because quite frankly, the way his jaw clenched every time you moved or when you muttered a simple word of praise at the food, his jaw would clench and his eyes steady on you. Even though you hate to admit it, your thighs had been clenched the whole dinner, heat pooling in your panties as you noticed the intense stares and the way his jawline clenched and unclenched; it was hot of course but you were too busy on the food.

As the elevator finally reached your floor, the sexual tension -even though you couldn’t see how- rose even more as you both walked down the hallway. As you approached your door, the sound of moans quietly fills the area around you. Grunting, Taehyung glances over at Yoongi’s room, a scoff escaping his lips as he presses his ear up to the door.

“For fuck’s sake,” He mumbled shaking his head as if this action would get rid of the sinful sounds he heard.

Giggling at this, Taehyung sends you a smirk before opening the door for you, the cool air hitting your body, tingles coating your body as the air cooled you down. This was the moment to see if anything would happen between you two. Part of you wanted everything to happen but the other part keeps telling you that this is a work event, you’re on duty and you shouldn’t be spreading your legs for a man whose file is thicker than his own arm.

Sighing, you shrug your jacket off before kicking off your heels, another -and even though you didn’t mean to- moan fell from your lips, the feeling of the flat floor making your quietly shiver at the comfort. Before long, you hear a soft sigh sounding behind you, the sound of Taehyung’s bare feet padding against the floor as he found himself laid upon your bed, his eyes wandering over your body. You felt your body flush once more, the cool air not helping anymore. Turning your body towards his, you raise your arms, a cocked eyebrow placed amidst your face as he sent back a sinful smirk. 

“What is it, _____?” He mused, your name sounds so sinful coming from his lips.

“Nothing,” You whispered rubbing your arms trying to create any friction.

He chuckled, pushing himself off your bed before standing himself in front of you, his bangs hanging over his eyes as he stared at you, his eyes roaming your face, looking for any sign; the sign that he wants.

“You looked so gorgeous tonight,” He began, his hands finding their way to your elbow, his thumb rubbing the soft skin, “but, you didn’t seem to think of what you were doing.” He hummed.

You gulped, “And what was I doing?” Your eyes finally found his.

He smirked, “You know what you were doing, moaning every time that god damn food touched your pretty little mouth.” His grip on your elbow tightened and unfortunately, your panties began sticking to you and it was becoming uncomfortable.

Before you could even process what he said, he smashed his lips on yours, his lips soft against your own. You sighed, the feeling you have been waiting for is now happening and the butterflies in your stomach were erupting. Taehyung’s grip loosened, his hands falling to your hips, pulling your body flush against his, your hands finding home on his neck. Pulling back, Taehyung’s breath fanned in your face before he went back in but this time his tongue was begging for an entrance, the soft muscle skimming your bottom lip as you easily parted your mouth, his tongue finding yours immediately. Both your tongues pressed against each other, your teeth clashing as you both craved each other's touch.

Taehyung turned you around, your knees hitting the back of the bed as he pushed you down gently, your hair fanning out. He groaned, the sight of you making him feel some type of way. He wanted to take his time with you, to appreciate your body but he has had this pent up attraction towards you and truly, all he wanted to do was fuck that pretty little smirk off your face.

“Scoot up,” He demanded, his hands finding their way to his belt. Obeying immediately, you find yourself perched up on the pillows as he watched your every move. You never truly got to soak in what Taehyung looked like. He was handsome no doubt but he expanse of his shoulders, the way his button-up was threatening to pop at any second, the way his dark chocolate brown hair hung beautifully across his forehead; he was lethal and all you could do was fall more in love with the art piece. Ironically, he sold and dealt with art but he was the art to you.

Crawling up to you, Taehyung pressed his lips against yours once more but this time more gently as if he was savoring the moment; however, this didn’t last too long. His thick fingers began sliding up your thigh, the touch causing goosebumps to rise on demand. Soft moans left your lips as his tongue pressed further into your mouth and the feeling of his calloused fingers squeezing, pinching, and skimming the soft flesh already made your mind swirl. 

“What do you want?” He breathed, a string of saliva following his lips as they part from yours. 

You breathed slowly, “Would I seem desperate if I said you?” You cocked an eyebrow, causing him to chuckle at your answer. 

“Well, then I would be desperate as well because I want you,” His eyes flicked up to yours, his tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip, a glint of satisfaction at your reaction present in his eyes. 

All you could do was bite your lip and shyly nod. Relieved at this answer, Taehyung’s hands found their way to the back of your dress, pulling the zipper down slowly as he mouthed at your neck, gently sucking, nibbling and licking at the soft skin. Your hands found perched in his hair, gently tugging at the soft locks, causing a growl to emit from his lips, the sound vibrating off your skin. Pulling back from your neck, Taehyung grabs at your straps, tugging the fabric down until all you are left in is your bra and underwear, his gaze falling immediately upon your body. Your first instinct was to cover up but he quickly pinned your arms down, his breath increasing as he grew more impatient to make love to your body, to fuck your brains out. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” He groaned, his fingers slowly trailing down your body, your chest heaving up and down. 

You felt yourself blush at his comment. His fingers came to a halt at the hem of your underwear, your heat throbbing at the thought of him being so close to where you truly want him the most. Slightly bucking your hips, 

Taehyung smirked, a huff of air passed his lips, a tsk following soon after. 

“So needy,” He mumbled, his fingers hooking around the band, slowly tracing the fabric as his knuckles glided across your smooth skin. This only made your hips buck more, the small act making your body go wild. 

Chuckling, Taehyung finally lifted his fingers from your band and brought his hands up to your breast, grabbing a handful and squeezing at the mounds. You arched your back, your breasts always being a sensitive area for you. Taehyung’s face lit up, his mind going crazy with the thought of you being so sensitive, so easily flared up at the simple touch of his fingers. He wouldn’t tell you but this was driving him crazy and if he was honest, he could combust at any moment. 

“T-Tae,” You whispered, throwing your head back, your neck bare to him, his tongue skimming his bottom lip at the sight. 

“What is it, baby?” He cooed, your body reacting to the nickname causing Taehyung to smirk, “Like that? Like when I call you baby? What if I called you slut?” 

And just like that, a moan escaped your lips and your core throbbed. You didn’t think you would be into degrading names but here you were, losing your shit over being called a slut. 

Reaching behind your back, Taehyung quickly unsnapped your bra, throwing the fabric behind his back. A soft sigh escaped his lips, his mouth finding home on your left breast. His hand came up to your right breast, squeezing, pinching at your nipple as his mouth completely ravished your other nipple, sucking, biting, and swirling his soft muscle around. You couldn’t help the tumble of moans that left your lips as he devoured your breasts. Sliding your fingers through his hair, you glance down and notice the faint markings slowly showing up as he pulled back, your boob leaving his mouth with a pop. Glancing up at you, Taehyung sent you a smirk before he began mouthing between your breasts, swirling his tongue around the soft skin and made his way down to the hem of your underwear. 

Wrapping his fingers around the band, he slowly pulls the fabric down, a string of your arousal following the soaked garment, a growl falling from Taehyung’s lips as the sight. Once he completely rids you, you clamp your thighs shut, embarrassment coursing through your body. Glaring at you, Taehyung wraps his hands around your knees, pulling your legs open, cool air heating your core sending goosebumps across your body. 

“Fuck,” He whined, “You’re so fucking beautiful and so wet,” 

A soft whine passed your lips at the compliment and your ears burned at the sinful comment. Leaning back up, Taehyung rids himself of his shirt, his tan -and built- body coming into view, your mouth automatically drooling at the sight. You quickly wiped at your mouth before he could notice but the small chuckle that passed his lips signified that he already saw and your dignity was already out the door. 

“Want me to eat you out?” He questioned, his hands gently rubbing your thigh. 

All you could do was nod and with a soft kiss to the top of your knee, Taehyung has your legs pulled apart and his face inches away from your drenched hole. You felt his breath fan you, your hole clenching around nothing, the sight making Taehyung grind his hips against the bed. 

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re already clenching around nothing,” He mused, his finger slowly tracing circles on the inner part of your thigh. 

“Taehyung,” You moaned, your fingers finding their way to his hair once again, “please hurry,” You begged, gently tugging at the strands. 

“Hurry for what?” He quizzed, arching his eyebrow at you. 

Before you could answer, Taehyung placed a gentle kiss to the top of your pussy, your head falling back onto the pillow. You felt him chuckle against you as he placed more gentle kisses and soon enough, his lips began sucking on the skin, hickies most likely decorating the area in the morning. 

“T-Tongue,” You finally got out, your hips bucking at one particular suck before he pulled back, his chin shining with your arousal. 

He laughed, “Look, I haven’t even got to taste you yet and your already covering my chin. How fucking nasty,” He cooed wiping the stringy mess on your thigh. Clenching at the sight, Taehyung brought his index and middle finger up, spreading your lips apart as he awed at the sight. 

“P-Please,” You begged, bucking your hips up at his face

“Are you sure about that?” He smirked, his hand coming down in a loud smack against your pussy, loving the way your hole clenched at the action, “I could fuck you right now you’re so goddamn wet. Would you like that?” He hummed, “Me ramming into you right now without prepping you? Stretching you out completely?” His finger grazed past your hole, bringing the slender digit up, your arousal dangling off the end, his tongue coming up to clean up the mess.

A moan passed your lips, the sight almost making your orgasm alone. Of course, you wouldn’t mind Taehyung fucking you right now but you also wanted to feel that devilish tongue inside you, those long, thick digits ramming inside you as well. 

“No,” You whined, “I want to feel your tongue,” You cried out, trying with all your might to push his head down south. 

Growling at your actions, Taehyung’s tongue licked straight up, your head jerking back. A soft pitched scream passed your lips as he continued to lick wide strips up to your needy hole. Moaning at the taste of you, Taehyung brought his fingers up, bringing his middle finger up to his mouth, sucking the digit before pressing it in you slowly, your pussy squelching at the action. 

You couldn’t get yourself to look down, to look at the mess he is making you. You have only been with a couple of men in your life but for some reason, for some unknown reason, this man that you willingly met, his a finger deep inside of you, making your body shiver at the simple move. Your breath came out in pants as he squeezed another finger in, a soft grunt passing his lips at the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers. 

“God you’re so fucking tight,” He moaned, his fingers moving in a come here motion.

As soon as he began, your back bounced off the bed, his finger pressing on your sensitive spot. A small aha left his lips as your body slowly shivered at the feeling.

Pulling his fingers back, Taehyung inserted another finger, a wince leaving your lips at the stretch but pleasure soon filled your body as he began ramming his fingers in and out. Without fail, Taehyung hit your spot every time, squelching noises filling the room as your slick fell from your core, the bedsheets surely getting soaked. 

“You take my fingers so well, babygirl,” He hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your clit before wrapping his fingers around the nub. 

You truly thought you could orgasm without him messing with the little sensitive nub but soon enough you were arching your back and panting. A burning coil began feeling your stomach, your thighs slowly beginning to shake and all you could do was whine. Noticing this, Taehyung’s fingers only gained more speed and his knuckles bruised your skin as they continuously rammed against you. Your clit began throbbing with pleasure, his tongue swirling around the nib.

“I’m close,” You finally cry out, your grip around his hair tightening as his fingers thrust harder and his teeth nibble at your clit.

With a couple of more thrust and one more hard suck to your clit, you see stars. A scream passed your lips as your clamped your thighs shut around his head, his lips still attached to your clit and his fingers still thrumming in and out of you. His body moved with your hips as you moved them from side to side, hoping that the movement would calm down your orgasm. Removing his fingers from your sopping core, his tongue began lapping up your juices, the obscene sound making you whimper. With a few harsh licks, you gently nudge his head away, his chin, lips, and nose covered with your sweet nectar. 

“Mm,” He groaned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “You taste so fucking good, babygirl,”

You dropped your legs on the bed, your chest heaving as you slowly came down from your high. Taehyung left gentle kisses against your thighs but soon enough, you found yourself rolling onto your knees, reaching out for his belt but his hands quickly caught yours, pushing you back. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t think I have the patience to receive a blowjob from you,” He hummed standing up from the bed, jerking his pants and underwear down, his length smacking against his stomach. 

You found yourself drooling once more but didn’t care to wipe since your dignity left a long time ago. This man was blessed. His tip was a deep shade of red, the poor thing pumping out precum. You awed at the sight of him but he quickly bent over, grabbing a condom from his wallet. 

“Like what you see?” He smirked, wrapping his fist around his length, wincing as he got closer to the raging head. His fingers slightly shook as he rolled the condom on, his dick screaming to be set free but you were both in the right mind to know that this was the right way. 

He crawled back up to the top of the bed, pressing his lips against yours once more, your juices still tainting his tongue causing you to moan at the taste. His hips ground against your core, his tip snagging at your hole at every thrust causing you to moan into the kiss. His hand slowly ran down your body, squeezing at certain parts of your skin before he gripped his dick, rubbing the tip against your clit, your moan rolling into his mouth. Sighing, you bite down on his bottom lip, pulling the thick skin back before letting go, sending a smirk to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” He hummed, sending you a soft smile. 

You awed at the comment but your smile faded away once he nudged his length in, your hips thrusting up at the feeling. Glancing up, your eyes landed on him; lust-filled eyes looked back at you. His cheeks were rosy, his breath fanning his face and his mouth hung open as he slowly skimmed his tongue against his bottom lip. If someone were to look at him, they would think he had already been balls deep into someone but all he did was eat you out and he already looks like this. You wanted to remember this forever, remember that fucked out look because all you ever see is his murderous look, no emotions, and this right here, this made your heart flutter. 

“Are you ready?” He whispered, gliding his tip up and down your cunt.

“Yes,” You whispered back, pulling him down by the nape of his neck to pull him into a kiss.

Your lips softly moved together as he pressed his head in, your lips freezing at the stretch. Cooing, Taehyung placed gentle kisses across your face, trying his best to rid your face of pain. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you tap his hip gently. Sighing, Taehyung slowly pushes himself the rest of the way in, his dick throbbing at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. It took everything in him not to bust because fuck if he wasn’t man enough he would have but he wasn’t going to show you just how much you affected him already. 

He stayed there, his dick filling you up, your pussy clenching around him and all he could do was pant and wait for your go. After another minute of waiting, you finally tapped his hip, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Pushing himself back on his feet, he pulls his dick out, his tip settling against your entrance before slamming himself back in, a yelp leaving your lips. Smirking, Taehyung smacked your clit harshly the action making your hips buck up. 

“I’ve been sweet,” He began, pulling his hips back once more before ramming them back in, “but now I’m going to fuck you.”

Bringing his tip back to your entrance he threw himself over you, his hands catching him as his body caged you before he rammed his hips against yours again but continued thrusting. The sound of his hips smacking yours filled the room, the squelching sound is just as loud. He panted, his breath fanning your face as he furiously pounded your pussy, his tip grazing your cervix. You couldn’t breathe, your mouth hung open as you threw your head to the side, your fingers raking down his back but he was quick to grip your face, forcing you to look at him as he fucked your relentlessly. Leaning back up, Taehyung grabbed your thigh, lifting the limb over his shoulder, this angle causing his dick to hit your spot over and over again. All you could do was silently scream and soon enough, his hand found their way around your neck, gently squeezing your throat as he snapped his hips into you, your body jerking up. 

“Hm, it seems like you like being choked,” He chuckled, squeezing your neck more until you’re clawing at his hand.

Pulling back, Taehyung brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing quick curt circles around the nub causing your back to arch up as he abused the sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt the slow-burning coil erupt in your stomach and all you could do was whine. You’ve never been able to cum once during sex but you’re fixing to cum twice and you feel like you’re in heaven; however, this soon stops as he pulls out, your hole clenching around nothing, your eyes shooting open and glaring at the man who only sent you a smirk before wrapping his hands around your waist and flipping you over. 

“Fuck,” He moaned, his hand immediately smacking the soft flesh, rubbing the sensitive spot as you arched your back to the pain. 

His left hand came down with a loud smack and then his right and all you could do was a whimper. He did this a few more times before he humped into you, his body leaning into yours. A soft moan left your lips at the feeling of his dick resting between your lips. Wrapping his hand around your neck, Taehyung pushed you into the ass-down-face-up position and you immediately wiggled your ass, hoping this would get him to push back into you and lucky for you, the feeling of being stretched once again overcome your body. 

“How’re you still so tight?” He grunted, thrusting his hips into you.

Snapping his hips against yours, Taehyung set a brutal pace once more, your face pressed against the pillow and his hands gripped your hips. This new angle allowed Taehyung to hit your spot harder and your body fell into euphoria. Reaching around, Taehyung’s fingers found your abused clit once more and drew quick circles around the nub and you felt that burning coil swelling up once more. 

“I-I’m close,” You moaned, grabbing onto anything that your hands could grip on. 

With a grunted same, Taehyung’s hips snapped into your harder. With a few more thrusts, your orgasm washed over you, black spots filling your vision and your body falling limp but Taehyung was quick to catch you. The feeling of your walls clenching around him made his hips stutter and with a few more clumsy thrusts, Taehyung pressed his dick into you, his dick spurting as he panted, his body hanging over yours, his breath fanning against your back. Riding out his high, Taehyung leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your shoulders until he fell limp. His body collapsed beside yours, his eyes shut as he tried catching his breath and all you could do was stare at him and that fluttery feeling came back. 

Your hands mindlessly found their way to his cheek, your thigh rubbing the smooth skin as his breathing came back to normal. His hand slowly came up to wrap his fingers around your palm, his eyes fluttering open, landing on you. A soft smile fell on your face and one was returned. 

“You were amazing,” You hummed,

He chuckled, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss before pushing himself off the bed, removing the condom from his flaccid penis, chunking the used condom away into the bin before heading to the bathroom. Sitting up, you cross your legs before running a finger through your messy hair.

“Lay back,” Glancing up, Taehyung had a washcloth dangling in his hands.

You found yourself falling back, the feeling of the cold washcloth heaven against your scorching skin. Humming, Taehyung tosses the washcloth back into the bathroom, slipping his underwear back on before grabbing a clean pair from your suitcase, sliding them on your legs, placing a soft kiss to your thighs. 

“You’re being so nice,” You mumbled rolling over, snuggling into your pillow. 

He laughed, “Here,” Opening one eye, you notice a black shirt dangling from his fingers. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “That’s yours.”

“Wear it,” He whispered, urging the shirt into your possession which you accepted, slipping the loose garment on, the smell of him filling your nose. 

A soft smile found its way on his face at the sight of you cuddled under your blankets with his shirt draped over your figure. 

“Sleep with me,” You mumbled reaching for his fingers. 

His heart thrummed at the comment. He’s never got himself too involved with someone, his work being too important to him to even make time for a significant other; but with you, everything seemed right and he couldn’t figure out why. Sighing, Taehyung threw back your covers and cuddled in beside you, your legs immediately intertwining with his. 

“Good night,” You whispered drifting off to sleep.

“Good night,” Taehyung smiled, placing a soft kiss against your head before drifting off to sleep with you cuddled in his arms.

The morning after was sweet, something you didn’t expect. Taehyung woke you up sweetly, leaving soft kisses against your cheek. You still couldn’t believe what happened the night before but you still thought about the romantic night, your cheeks blushing at everything that passed through your brain. If your night spent together wasn’t any obvious, Yoongi was quick to make jokes, saying how you both had a glow that you two didn’t have that morning. Of course, you got two quick punches on him but Taehyung agreed, placing a soft kiss on your head which caused your cheeks to flare up.

And to your surprise, Taehyung continuously held your hand. He held it in front of Mortdecai, held it on the plane, and now he is holding it as you all make your way to Simmons house. You didn’t know how to feel. Even when this mission started, there was always sexual tension between you and Taehyung. The simple little touches set your heart on fire, the sneaked looks, the casual glances up and down, they all made your heart feel some way. Truth be told, at first, you didn’t want anything to do with him, to just use him to solve this case and let him off with multiple of murders and more but, for some odd reason, your heart found comfort, happiness, and overall, love.

The thing is, you wouldn’t tell him that you loved him. The timing wasn’t right, this may be first love kind of jitters, but you knew good and well not to mention this. The timing wasn’t right and there is a big possibility that once you get back to Seoul and complete this case, Taehyung would disappear, continuing his work and leaving you to ponder if you were just a simple hook-up. But the way he made you feel last night, you couldn’t even put it into words. No one has made you feel like this and he did in one night, hardly knowing anything about you but finding the simple detective girl interesting; however, Taehyung wouldn’t let you know this.

He couldn’t quite put his fingers on it, why you were filling his mind and why he found himself falling in love with the law when he was quite literally running away from it. He thought you were a silly girl at first, barking up the wrong tree when you came to him for help but in reality, you were fiery, quick to find a solution and this made his interest grow. You were beautiful and for some reason, even though he’s only known you for a short amount of time, he finds himself falling for you.

The flight to America was quick and the whole time you and Taehyung told little things about each other, trying anything to pass the time. Mortdecai booked you all a hotel and to your liking, you and Taehyung ended up in another room together. However, one thing that you found weird was that Mortdecai had Yoongi fly the car out with them but, since you didn’t want Taehyung to get frustrated again, you kept the bundle of questions to yourself, minding your business.

“Okay,” Taehyung mumbled, tossing his luggage on the ground, “You will stay here until I come back and get you for the reveal party tonight, okay?” He raised an eyebrow at you, rolling his sleeves up. 

“Why can’t I go with you?” You mumble, pouting at him. 

Chuckling, Taehyung pushed himself off the table and walked over to you, grabbing your chin gently before placing his lips onto yours. His lips were so soft and every time you kissed, all you could think about was last night, making your core throb. 

“Wouldn’t it be boring hearing men discuss art? Art that you don’t find any interest in?” His thumb gently rubbed your cheek, the small act soothing you. 

“Yes,” You hummed, placing your hand on top of his, “but wouldn’t it be much easier if I was already at the mansion with you?” 

Pinching your cheek gently, Taehyung walked over to his suit for the night. Zipping the bag open, a cool royal blue gown was hanging before his suit, your mouth gaping at the material.

“Fine,” He mumbled, his fingers rubbing the silky fabric, “I had my designer make this dress for you last minute. I hope you like it,”

You immediately grabbed the fabric, the silky garment feeling so nice between the pads of your fingers. It was gorgeous. Beautiful rhinestones decorated the top and scattered down the sleeves. 

“Of course,” You smiled sweetly. 

Wrapping his arm around your waist, Taehyung started leaning down but the sound of a knock ringing throughout the room caused him to huff and a small giggle to pass your lips. 

“What?” Taehyung grunted. 

“It’s time to go,” Yoongi’s deep voice echoed. 

Sighing, Taehyung zipped up the bag, slinging the garments over his shoulder and gestured you out the door as you grabbed your makeup bag. You were welcomed with a gummy grin from Yoongi who had a bag slung over his shoulder as well and Mortdecai who had his hitman carrying both their suits. 

“Ah, so she’s coming?” Mortdecai chimed, sending you a smile. 

Giving a quick nod, you all followed Mortdecai down to the lobby, Yoongi hanging both garment bags in the car neatly before following Mortdecai to Simmons mansion. The car ride was filled with conversation of tactics, what Yoongi should do, how Yoongi and Mortdecai should sneak in but the plans were going in one ear and out the other as you watched the city fly by. You were never interested in going to the States. You found comfort in Seoul and never planned on leaving but you were thankful for all these travels. 

What you were most intrigued with was the beautiful mansion that you finally pulled up to. It looked like it came from a movie, your mouth was dropped completely open but the sound of Yoongi coughing brought you out your daze. Bringing the car to a stop, you all exited the car, the warm sun beating down on you and you immediately regret wearing an all-black outfit. 

“Ah,” Glancing up, you see a tall middle-aged man walking up, his teeth brighter than the sun itself, “if it isn’t Kim Taehyung and Charlie Mortdecai.” 

He brought his hand up to Taehyung who accepted it gingerly, giving the man a curt smile who quickly threw himself into Mortdecai’s arms, a loud laugh booming from his mouth. You found yourself scooting closer to Yoongi, his body radiating comfort to you. 

“So, lets cut to the chase, can I look at the painting?”

“Yes, you see—“ 

Before Charlie could answer, Simmons jerked open Yoongi’s door, shoving his body in there and brought a knife up to the ceiling. 

“Wait!” Taehyung yelled.

Ignoring his comment, Simmons cut the fabric up and a rolled-up painting fell, everyone’s mouth wide open. Tucking the painting under his arms, Simmons shot everyone a bright smile, shutting the door behind him as he yelled a follow me. Taehyung glanced back at you and Yoongi, his jaw clenching. 

“I guess we did have the fucking painting after all,” He mumbled to Yoongi.

The interior of the mansion was nothing compared to the exterior. His home was decorated in marble, his walls filled with paintings and what made the moment cute was how Taehyung would slow down to catch a glance at a piece, his tongue skimming over his lip if he found one more interesting than the other. Once this case was done, you were sure that your knowledge of paintings would be far more vast than it once was. 

As you slowly filed in behind the rest of the group, Simmons already had the painting rolled out on the table and to your completely utter shock, the Grande Odalisque was laid out on the table in all its glory. Your mouth fell in awe, the painting just as beautiful but your throat clenched at the thought of poor Miss Choi. 

“Sorry to be rude,” Simmons beamed, his body leaning against the table, 

“I didn’t get to catch her name,” 

All eyes fell on you, your cheeks flushing at all the attention but you quickly fixed your posture, “Hi,” You smiled back, “I’m De—“

“This is my girlfriend,” Taehyung cut you off, his grip around your wrist tightening, “I thought I’d bring her to the reveal party.” 

You glared up at him but sent Simmons a curt smile, “Hi, I’m Don Simmons…”

“_____,” You answer.

“Ah, ____. Beautiful name and a beautiful girl, Taehyung, good job.” 

His attention went back to the painting but the feeling of your phone vibrating allowed you to excuse yourself, Jimin’s name flashing across the screen.

“Ah,” You moaned in happiness, “Jimine,” You cooed, “How are you?”

“I’m good but guess what I found out while you were gone!!” Excitement laced in his voice. 

“What is it?” You mumbled, glancing back into the room to see all men bending over the table studying the painting. 

“You remember that note that Taehyung found? The ‘love your bug’ note?” 

“Mm,”

“I figured out who bug was,”

“And who is it?” You whispered,

“It was her lover. An older gentleman by the name Kim Myung-Dae. He was an underground dealer like Taehyung and he normally sent his paintings over to Miss Choi to clean and low and behold he has the original Grande Odalisque, the one with the secret code on the back.” 

Your mouth dropped. Your heart began racing and all you wanted to do was drag Taehyung up the stairs but you had to keep your composure or the plan tonight wouldn’t work. 

“Are you sure its the right one?” You scooted a bit further from the room, “The man we’re seeing now has the Grande Odalisque displayed across his table right now,” 

“Yes, I’m sure, ____. When you come back to Seoul, have Taehyung come to the office and check to make sure because I know there is an art auction the week you come back.”

Taehyung doesn’t know but you have been relaying the plans back to Jimin. You felt more comfortable knowing that if anything was to screw up, Jimin would have a backup plan ready for you at any second. 

“I’ll talk to Taehyung tonight but I’ve got to go, Jimin, good work!” 

“Talk to you later,”

Ending the call, you made your way back to the room just in time. Simmons was rolling up the painting, tucking the replica under his arm. Wrapping your hand around Taehyung’s wrist, you tug gently, catching his attention.

“I need to speak with you and Yoongi alone,” You whispered.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Taehyung sent you a quick nod, asking Don where your rooms were. Giving Taehyung a bright smile, Don had one of his butlers lead you three up the stairs, another followed behind with your wardrobe for tonight and your makeup bag dangling from his pinkie. Your mind was racing with the information Jimin gave you. If he was right, the painting that Simmons took was the replica and the real Grande Odalisque was safe in Seoul with Kim Myung-Dae or at least you hoped so.

“Why are you pale as hell?” Yoongi chuckled, crossing his arms as Taehyung locked the door.

You shot a glare at him, “Because I found out the information I wasn’t ready for, dumbass.”

Taehyung chuckled, “What information did you find out?”

You gently rubbed your temples and recited what Jimin told you. Taehyung’s eyebrows were furrowed and so were Yoongi’s. Hell, you would be shocked as hell and confused if you just find this out as well which you were but at this point you were confused.

“So they didn’t have children?”

“Seriously,” You groaned, “That’s all you got from what I just told you?” You rolled your eyes at Taehyung who only shrugged his shoulders.

“Anyways,” Yoongi grumbled, “The painting that Don has is the replica of the real Grande Odalisque?”

“That’s what we’re hoping.” You mumble.

“Either way we’re going back to Seoul with that painting,” Taehyung grumbled, rubbing his temples at the information that was just given.

“I want to know why you think it’s going to be so easy confiscating that painting,”

Taehyung sighed, “It won’t be easy but we have the plan set out for tonight,”

“And what’s that?”

“Yoongi, Jock, and Mortdecai will sneak in and take the painting while you and I are down at the party showing our face and keep what they’re doing secret.”

“Is it safe with all of us separated like that?”

“No,” Yoongi mumbled, “but tonight is our only option to get that painting back into our hands.”

“I don’t understand why in the hell we stepped foot into America. That painting was dangling above your heads and you had no idea,”

“I didn’t know that Jungkook hid the piece in my car!” Taehyung defended.

“This whole trip was a waste of my fucking time,” You mumbled. You wanted to pull your hair out. You don’t know how you all sat so dumb like in that car with the fucking Odalisque hanging above your heads. This whole trip was stupid and honestly, you didn’t have it in you to attend this party but since Taehyung introduced you as his girlfriend, you had no excuse to not go.

“I wanna know how Jungkook got ahold of that piece,” Taehyung mumbled, his gaze falling onto Yoongi who could only shake his head.

“I wanna know who killed poor Miss Choi over this painting,” You whispered mainly to yourself.

This question still lingered over your head. This whole trip surrounded the painting but you couldn’t get too upset, this painting was a key to her murder. There must be a shitload of money in this account for someone to kill an innocent woman and if Kim Myung-Dae had enough trust in her with that painting then he wasn’t expecting anyone to be snooping around for that particular piece.

You kept to yourself, minding your business as Taehyung discussed the plan once again with the crew. They all left you in the dark as you put on your makeup besides the part where you would be tucked underneath Taehyung’s arm with an earpiece stuck in your ear. You weren’t mad at any of them but you were merely dumbfounded. You never understood why Mortdecai sold this piece to this foreigner and you never understood why Taehyung trusted him but he’s putting all his trust into this man, allowing his own hitman to sneak in and steal this fake painting back. 

None of this made sense and for some reason, you had a bad feeling about this. Ever since you joined the detective field, anytime you had a shooting going down or someone gets murdered, you always itched behind your left ear and right now, your ear is burning. All you could hope is that everyone was safe… including Taehyung. 

The soft feeling of hands laying across your shoulder brought you from your thoughts. Your eyes trailed up the figure through the mirror, landing on Taehyung who only stared back, a soft smile settling on his face. 

“You look beautiful,” He mumbled leaning down and placing a sweet chaste kiss to your cheek. 

You only smiled back, pushing yourself off the seat and lacing your feet in your heels. Wrapping your arm around Taehyung’s, you both head out the room, music filling the hallways. Everyone else done made their way down, checking the area. On the outside you were stone-cold, smiling at people who sent you one but on the inside, your heart was thumping faster than it should. You should be used to this you tell yourself over and over as Taehyung weaved you through the crowd. 

“Coast is clear,” Yoongi grumbled, your body jumping at the sudden sound. 

“Alright,” Taehyung answered back, his eyes falling on you as if he was speaking directly to you. 

Your eyes skimmed the crowd but they immediately fall upon a man whose eyes were already laying on you. Cocking your head to the side, you raise an eyebrow at him, the man sending you a curt smile before walking away. You felt yourself tighten your grip around Taehyung’s arm, his head jerking down looking at you. 

“What’s wrong?” He mumbled, placing a kiss to the top of your head. 

Before you could answer, a couple walked up to Taehyung, their smiles bright as they stared at your date. 

“Well if it isn’t Kim Taehyung,” The male mused, his tongue poking his cheek, “I haven’t seen you since your last shitty sale,” 

Taehyung smirked, “How’re you, Mr. Rossi?” 

The two bickered back and forth. You quickly tuned them out but as you glanced around the party once more, your eyes laid upon that same man again who was still staring back at you. Tightening your grasp once again, you tug Taehyung’s arm. Saying his goodbye’s Taehyung glanced down at you but the feeling of his body tensing, you had no need to tell him.

“Oh fuck,” He mumbled, “Yoongi, that man is here, he’s at the party.” 

Taehyung hissed, removing his arm from yours before wrapping it around your waist. 

“Who is he?” You asked, glancing back at the man who only followed you both. 

At this point, he wasn’t trying to be discrete. He was following your every step, your heart racing. Leading you around the back, Taehyung pushes you both into a corner, the man quickly walking past you two. 

“Who is that?” You hissed, your chest heaving.

“That was the fucker I told you about,” He whispered back.

“We’re in.” 

The brisk moment of you and Taehyung huddling in the corner away from that mysterious man ended as the sound of Yoongi yelling in your ear caught you off guard. Taehyung’s hand grasped your arm as he jerked you, shoving the large glass door open as he tugged you in the mansion. His breath was ragged, his eyes frantic as they searched around, landing on the spiral staircase that took you up to the room you were once getting ready in. Mumbling a come on, Taehyung jerked you up the stairs, the sound of yelling filling your ears as you near the top. 

“Yoongi!” Taehyung yelled, his voice echoing down the hallway.

A loud thud echoed down the hall, Taehyung’s head jerked towards the noise, his feet immediately walking and your arm let loose from his grip. You should be nervous but the way Taehyung’s hand gripped around his gun, bringing the cool metal up to balance in his other hand made heat pool and sadly, you should be ashamed but you’re not. 

You followed his figure in a room, Mortdecai, Yoongi, and Jock all stood around a desk and the mysterious man stood on the other side, a gun steady in his hands as he pointed it back. Glancing over, you noticed Don slumped over his desk, blood dripping from his fingers and the Odalisque settled underneath his head. Turning your attention back over to the man, Taehyung’s finger twitched, the pad resting against the trigger. 

“Who are you?” Taehyung seethed, stepping closer. 

The man chuckled, “Why does it matter to you? All I want is the painting, so please, give me the painting.”

“Tell me your name,” His deep voice echoed throughout the room, your body tensing at the sound. 

“Ademar Boucher,” He finally answered, “Now give me the painting,”

“Why would I give you the painting, hm?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, taking another step closer to the man, “You killed an innocent boy -my car guy for a matter-of-fact- you tried killing me and my man over here, and now you are stalking not only me but my date,” His grip around the gun fixed, his knuckles white at the amount of pressure, “Now tell me, why should I give you the painting?”

The man charged forward but Taehyung was quick to shoot, his bullet grazing into the man's arm. Your mouth dropped but you quickly jerked on 

Taehyung’s arm, his face scowling at you. 

“We need him alive,” You yelled, “He’s a possible suspect!” 

Before Taehyung could answer back, the man had stood up and escaped, his body jumping over the ledge and the painting still settled under the late Don’s head. Taehyung shrugged your grip off, his shoulders rolling back as he walked over, shoving Don’s head off the painting before rolling it up quickly. 

“We need to get out here,” He mumbled, “People will start to notice,”

Bumping his shoulder on yours, Taehyung exited the room, the rest of the men filing behind him. Rolling your eyes, you walked over to where Ademar escaped, the wind slowly pushing your hair as you saw him running off in the distance, his head jerking back to make sure any of you were chasing after him. Taehyung wouldn’t understand. He had a killers' state of mind when it came to this stuff but if Jimin’s accusations were correct, Ademar is a suspect. Not only for Miss Choi’s sake but for the sake of Taehyung’s car guy — Jeon Jungkook.

Walking back into the hallway, Taehyung had your bag in his hand, the Odalisque under his arm and both your outfits dangling over his shoulder. If you weren’t so agitated with him, you would find the gesture cute but killing the man would only make matters worse. You were still on this case, still trying to find the murderer of Miss Choi and if you could pick up any lead, you were going to take every chance you get. 

The car ride back was silent, Taehyung not speaking a word. Mortdecai done said his farewells, claiming that he had some business back in London to worry about. Your farewells were bittersweet, loving every moment you spent with the man but here you were, stuck with one who could bite your head off because you wouldn’t allow him to kill someone. 

The clicking sound of the door shutting made your skin crawl. Your body was tense, the atmosphere thick and all you could do was swallow the thick lump in your throat as Taehyung’s front brushed against your back, dropping your makeup bag in your suitcase. Your hands involuntarily clenched at your side, your jaw clenching before you turned around, Taehyung already staring back at you. 

“What’s your fucking problem?” You hissed, kicking your shoes off but never breaking eye contact. 

“I don’t have one,” His tone was too calm and this made you even hotter. 

“Bull fucking shit,” You yelled, “You’ve been sulking since I stopped you from killing Ademar—“

“Yeah because that was an easy fucking kill, ____!”

“Taehyung I have to have that man alive! He is a suspect for the killing of Miss Choi and he also killed your friend, so I have to keep him alive until I am one hundred percent positive that he killed her,”

“How is he a suspect?” After laying both your clothes down, Taehyung kicked his shoes off, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt, ridding himself of his belt before he sat on your bed, leaning back on his palms. 

“Is it not suspicious that he’s so determined to get that Odalisque? I’m sure he knows about the account numbers,”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Then why else would he be so adamant about stealing the piece?”

He only hummed, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip as he processed what you said. He couldn’t be mad at you because he knows your reasoning is true and he truly wanted justice for Jungkook. It still breaks his heart to this day but its something he faces all the time—death.

You could only let out a soft sigh as you reached behind your back to unzip your dress, dreading to take this beautiful piece off. Although the night went somewhat planned, you couldn’t lie and say that Taehyung didn’t look hot as hell in his suit, the buttons nearly popping with his chest being so broad. The simple thought made heat pool below, your thighs clenching at the thought.

“I didn’t get to tell you tonight but you looked gorgeous,”

“Thank you,” You mumbled, turning around to give him a soft smile.

Chuckling, Taehyung pushed himself off the bed, wrapping his arms around you before peppering your shoulders with soft kisses, goosebumps erupting across your body. His hands slowly made their way to your hips, gripping the spot gently, sinking his teeth into your skin as he brought your backside to his front, his erection pressing against your ass, the feeling making you blush.

“Are we really about to do this?” You giggle, turning around in his grasp. His eyes fell onto you, “It’ll have to be quick,” He mumbled, “We have an early plane to catch.”

Nodding your head, you gently grab Taehyung’s face before pulling him down into a kiss, your lips molding together as they perfectly moved in sync. You will never get over this; his lips, his smell, his body, Taehyung. His fingers found their way to your back, unzipping your dress and pulling the fabric down, his warm hands pressing against the smooth skin of your back. You were nearly bare and this made Taehyung growl. Pulling back, Taehyung gripped your hips before spinning you around, backing you up until your legs hit the back of the bed, your body falling flat.

“Scoot up,” He demanded, unbuttoning his pants.

Nodding your head, you scooted your way up to the top and watched as he jerked both his pants and underwear down, his dick smacking against his stomach, the tip an angry red. You licked your lips, wanting to suck the living soul out of him but once again, he gave you a tsk before pushing you back, your body conforming to the mattress as he hung his body above you, his gold chain sparkling in the under the dim light.

Slowly, his hands danced their way down your body, curling around the band of your underwear before jerking them down, the cool air making your thighs clamp shut. It was embarrassing how wet you were but at this point, your worries were out the door and all you cared about was the gorgeous man above you.

The feeling of his hands gripping your thighs brought you out your trance, your breath stopping in your throat as he jerked your thighs apart, the feeling of your lips pulling apart made you squirm.

“Fuck,” He huskily growled, “Already drenched and I haven’t done anything,”

He lowly chuckled, dropping his body to the bed before licking a wide stripe up your cunt, your body arching at the feeling. You could never get over this, the feeling of his tongue pressed against you, his hands roaming your body and most importantly, the way his eyes never left yours as he ate you out viscously. Swirling his tongue around your clit, his middle finger pressed into you, the feeling still foreign but the stretch made you moan, pleasure rolling over your body as he thrust back and forth. Adding another finger, Taehyung began sucking your nub, moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion. All you could do was wrap your fingers in his hair and clench your thighs around his head. If he was honest, he wouldn’t mind dying between your legs.

He slowly sucked on your sensitive nub, the feeling making you see sparks, the feeling indescribable and once he added another finger, the stretch burning but pleasuring all at the same time, you felt the familiar burning coil grow in your stomach and all you could do was let out a whimper and grip his hair, tugging on the poor locks. A moan fell between his lips, vibrating against your skin and that caused you to snap, your back arching, all you could see was black.

Getting you through your high, Taehyung pulled back, bringing his fingers up to his mouth, licking the juices off his fingers, never breaking eye contact with you. This made you throb once more, the obscene sight before you making you flush.

“You taste so fucking good,” He whispered, reaching over you to grab a condom, your hands coming up to lightly trace his chest.

“Hurry,” You mumbled, tracing his neck with your thumb.

Letting out a growl, Taehyung slipped the rest of his condom on before jerking your leg over his shoulder, his hand gripping your thigh and his other gripping his dick, rubbing it up and down your slit, coating the tip with your juices. His chest rose up and down slowly, his eyes focused on the way your juices glistened on his dick but that was soon over when you clenched over nothing, his body halting, his grip on your thigh tightening and in one quick motion, he bottomed out. A silent scream passed your mouth, your lips pouting at the feeling of being full. He was thick, almost too thick. It took everything in him not to cum on the spot, the way your walls clenched around him from the sudden intrusion felt too good, soft grunts passing his lips. Your fingernails dug into his skin, your chest heaving up.

“M-Move,” You grunted, wrapping your legs around his hips.

Pulling back, Taehyung’s tip settled against your opening before he thrust, his hips smacking against your clit making you arch your back once more. With a couple of hard thrusts, Taehyung finally set a pace, his body hovering over yours as he left sloppy kisses across your neck, sucking, biting down and any part of your skin that he could. After only having sex with you once, Taehyung remembered exactly where your spot was at, hitting the sensitive area with ease, causing you to see stars with every brush of his tip. With your feet digging into his ass, your hands clawed up his back and into his hair, the obscene sounds of your juices squelching with every thrust made your body tingle.

“Y-You’re so fucking tight,” He grunted in your ear, his breath hot against the skin.

Pushing his face back, you brought his face down to yours, pressing your lips together. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip, you obeyed, opening your mouth and letting his tongue roam your mouth, tangling with your own. The sound of moans falling from Taehyung’s lips was swallowed by you and these sounds were like music to your ear. Pulling back, a string of saliva followed as he sat back on his feet, his eyes falling down to where you two connected, “Turn over,” He grunted, pulling his length out.

Sighing at the lost, you turn around onto your stomach wiggling your ass. A low, deep chuckle passed his lips before he roughly gripped your hips, ramming his dick back into your sopping hole, setting a brutal pace. The sound of your skin smacking together filled the room and all you could think about was how his dick was hitting your g-spot better in this position.

“I-I’m close,” You moaned, clenching the bed sheets between your fingers.

“Same,” He grunted, rolling his hips into yours.

His hand left your hip, bringing his thumb up to his tongue, swiping the pad before pressing it against your clit, rubbing quick, curt circles. The action made your body twitch and with two final thrusts, Taehyung had you falling apart on his dick, your walls clenching around his length.

“Ah, ah, fuck,” You hissed, your body falling limp but Taehyung was quick to catch you.

Taehyung rode out your high and his own hips began lagging. We a few final thrusts, Taehyung pressed his cock in you, his grip around your hips tight as he panted, his dick twitching with every spurt of his cum. Hovering over your shoulders, Taehyung pressed gentle kisses, his heavy pants fanning your back before he fell over, his hand coming down to his dick and taking off the condom, tossing the used rubber in the bin.

“That was amazing,” You mumbled, tracing circles on his chest.

Letting out a soft chuckle, Taehyung threw his legs over the bed and made his way to the bathroom, bringing a wet washcloth back before cleaning you up, sliding new underwear on and tossed one of his shirts over to you. Gaining enough energy to sit up, you pull the large fabric over your body and fell limp into the bed once again, making Taehyung laugh.

“Let’s get some sleep,” He yawned falling down beside you, pulling you into his body before draping the covers over your bodies.

“Good night,”

You shut the car door behind you, your black shades covering your eyes from the bright sun, your all-black outfit soaking in the warm rays. Sadly, Kim Myung-Dae passed of old age before you came back. You, Jimin, and Taehyung all stood outside his home, people crying, sniffling and all you could think about was the grand prize that was stored inside his home. 

“Where is the piece?” Taehyung mumbled, nodding his head at an elderly woman who patted her eyes gently. 

“When you guys were off having a grand time in America, I came and talked to him myself—“

“what?!” You and Taehyung quipped at the same time, your mouth falling open with shock at Jimin. 

“How’re you, Mr. Kim,” Jimin smiled, shaking the old man’s hand.

“Ah, I’m good,” He coughed, gesturing for Jimin to sit down.

“I’m sorry to hear about your loss…about Miss Choi that is,” 

Myung-Dae sighed, “She was my bug but bless her, what a terrible way to die,”

Jimin nodded his head, his eyes scanning the room, “Is there anything you have to remember her by?”

The old man nodded, pushing himself off the couch before scooting himself over to a door, disappearing before coming back with a painting. Turning around, Jimin’s heart dropped, his mouth going dry. The Grande Odalisque was hanging—barely—in his nimble fingers. Jimin wanted to jump in joy, to snap a picture of what was being shown in front of him to you but he coughed gently, nodding at the poor man who placed the picture back in the room. 

“This painting has been in my family for years and I’ve always trusted Miss Choi to clean it,”

“Of course,” Jimin smiled, “I must be on my way. If you need anything, please let me know,”

Giving Jimin a tight hug, Myung-Dae sent Jimin off, settling himself back on the couch. Jimin tried his hardest to contain his excitement, biting his tongue, cheek, anything he could because right there in this man's house is the piece that everyone was looking for.

“Wow,” You hummed, “So you know where the painting is at?” 

Nodding his head, you all went inside and stopped by his open casket, the sight making you grimace but soon Jimin led you to the room. Jimin pointed at the door in the corner, letting you know that that was the room before guarding the entry. Taehyung was quick to jog over there, his hand pushing the door open. With his mouth wide open, Taehyung’s eyes grazed over the number of paintings that were hanging in this secret room; however, one picture, in particular, stuck out to him. Wrapping his fingers around the small photo, his heart sunk at the sight of Jungkook wrapped in the arms of Myung-Dae. 

“What is it?” You whispered, eyes stopping on the man whose shoulders were slumped. 

“Kim Myung-Dae was Jungkook’s grandfather,”

You took the photo from Taehyung, your eyes settling on the two who were smiling brightly, the love of a grandson and grandfather evident through this photo. You gently placed the picture down and looked back at Taehyung whose eyes were still on the photo. 

“Taehyung,” You whispered, hands settling on his cheek, “You couldn’t stop it.”

“I know,” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before grabbing what you came here for, the Grande Odalisque. 

Rolling the painting up and sneaking out through the back, Taehyung takes you and Jimin back to his place. Rolling the painting out, Taehyung flipped the piece around, a low fuck passing his lips. The back of the painting was blank, with no set of numbers or anything to clarify that this was the original piece. You felt your head throb and you felt the urge to smack Jimin multiple times on the back of the head but the quick movement of Taehyung pulling stuff from a cabinet made you stop from whacking the poor boy. 

“They’re smart,” He mused, setting his equipment down. 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you watched as Taehyung poured a mysterious liquid on the back, telling Jimin to shut the lights off before switching on his blacklight. Your body filled with relief, there was the numbers you all had been searching for, safe and on the back of the original piece. You wanted to scream with delight and kiss Jimin on the cheek. Taehyung let out a relieved sigh, running his fingers through his hair. 

“You’re so fucking smart, Jimin,” He praised, patting the man on the back who only stood with his chest puffed out, pride settling through his veins. 

Rolling the painting back up, Taehyung tucked it away in a safe. Praising Jimin once more, Taehyung sent you two off, saying that he had some business to do and with that, you and Jimin headed back to the office, your mind flourishing with excitement but you still had a murder to figure out. 

Walking through the halls, Jimin continued to ramble in your ear, praising not only himself but you and Taehyung for the handwork you did—even though you left him back in Seoul which he is still salty about. Seokjin’s office came into view and with one knock, you pushed yourself in, Seokjin’s face shocked by your surprise. 

“Well, you were almost gone for a month, got any leads?”

Sitting down, you let out a soft sigh, “A lot happened over this investigation but I’m pretty sure I know who killed Miss Choi.”

His ears perked up, “And who might that be?” He quipped, lacing his fingers together as he sat up straighter. 

“Ademar Boucher. A French man whose been harassing not only Kim Taehyung but others around him and killing people in his hunt for this painting. I know for a fact he killed a car service guy by the name Jeon Jungkook, killed an American man named Don Simmons, and tried killing not only Taehyung, but me, Taehyung’s bodyguard Yoongi, and two other foreigners who helped us on this investigation.”

He nodded his head, “When do you think he will hit next?”

“Glad you asked,” You smiled, “I have a hunch he will show up at the Art Gallery Auction event this Saturday. I need backup there, Seokjin, there’s no telling what he’ll do,”

“Of course,” He nodded his head, “I will have Jimin and Hoseok to be there as well as your own personal backup,”

After the meeting, you invited Jimin to go get coffee with you, which he eagerly agreed. Taking him to your favorite spot, you both found comfort in a secluded corner, the sun setting which radiated off of Jimin’s skin beautifully. 

“So,” He started, taking a sip of his coffee, “how was it like spending almost a month with the notorious Kim Taehyung?” His eyebrow arched, a smirk evident behind his lid. 

You rolled your eyes, “I mean, we worked and he showed me around the cities that we stayed in and—“

“And fucked?”

You choked on your coffee, a few drops hitting the table as you hit your chest, “Jimin—“

“It’s pretty obvious that you guys fucked,” He shrugged his shoulders, 

“You’ve had this glow ever since you came back,”

“Glow?”

“Yeah,” He mused, “You seem more relaxed, your shoulders aren’t as tense, and the way you both talked to each other, looked at each other, and the sexual tension was way too obvious,”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your coffee, quickly wiping at the mess on the table with your sleeve. You didn’t think it was that obvious or the fact that you were “glowing”. Now that he mentioned, you did find yourself not as stressed, the weight of the world not evident on your shoulder as you hung around him. It felt nice not having to protect yourself, to be overly aware of your surroundings, the feeling of Taehyung being there made you calm. If you were honest, he felt like your own personal bodyguard. He made you feel warm and giddy inside but you wouldn’t tell Jimin that because he would dangle that in your face and never let it up. 

“Fine, we had sex…” You staggered.

“Had sex…”

“Two times,” You said in more of a question. 

Jimin’s mouth dropped, his hand coming to cover his mouth as he giggled quietly into his sleeve. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior, looking around embarrassed, hoping no one heard your confession even though none of them know of Kim Taehyung. 

“Wow,” His grin was stupid, “two times, huh? No wonder you have a glow. His semen must be a wonderful moisturizer.” 

Your cheeks immediately flushed and you abruptly stood up, reaching across to land a loud smack on the back of his head. His laugh echoed throughout the cafe, earning some looks from strangers and all you could do was sulk in your embarrassment as he happily giggled. You were ready to kick his shin under the table but your phone vibrated your leg, your heart fluttering at the name that popped up. 

From: Tae

 Come over, yeah? I miss you :(

Your cheeks flushed and with one final glare at Jimin, you threw your head back, downing the rest of your drink.

“I’m leaving,”

“Oh, was that Mr. Right?”

You let out an annoyed sigh before scooting your chair under and a frantic Jimin scrambling around to catch up with you. Bumping his shoulder with yours, Jimin paused outside the cafe before looking at you.

“I’m happy for you,”

You glanced up, “Thanks, Jiminie,”

With a quick side hug, you both parted ways. You pulled your phone back and sent Taehyung a quick message, putting your car into drive.

The ride there was quick, your foot on the pedal as you thought about all the things that could happen once you were there. Your body ached for him, your pussy even did and that makes you truly realize that you were hooked on this man. Just thinking about the evenings where he fucked you relentlessly made your toes curl and your cheeks flushed.

Thankfully, your car was parked in front of his house in a quick ten minutes. Your heels echoed as you entered the mansion, your eyes traveling to where you saw the familiar black hair. His back was facing you and all you could think about was running your fingers through his hair.

“Hi,” You mused giddily, sitting down in front of Taehyung.

His eyes fell onto you, his black hair falling barely above his eyelashes, his skin dewier than normal—fucking beautiful. Your thighs clenched at the sight of him and all you wanted to do was jump in his lap and ride him until you couldn’t cum anymore. The thought made your mouth water.

“How have you been?” He quizzed, cocking his head to the side.

“Tired but great,” You smiled, pushing your hair behind your ear.

He smirked, “I’ve missed you dearly—“

“I was just here earlier this morning,” You laughed.

“I know but we were just with each other every day,”

You nodded your head, eyes falling to the floor at the feeling of his gaze burning into you. Your fingers gently played with each other as the tension grew thicker. It was embarrassing how many times you two have already fucked. It was only two times but still, it seems like a lot but it's like you two cannot get enough of each other.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” You asked, dying to break the tension.

He sighed, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He sent you a curt smile before pouring himself some more wine.

“What’re you going to do with the painting, the real one that is?”

“I’m going to keep it here and place the fake on in the auction, make money off of it.”

“Will the other art dealers know that its fake?”

He smirked, “That’s the fun part, they never know until they’ve bought the painting.”

You lightly laughed, “I see,”

You both sat in silence, both of you want the same thing but both too scared to mention it. The question was on the tip of your tongue but the lump in your throat was your excuse for not verbalizing the simple question: ‘Hey, wanna fuck?’.

“Come with me,”

You jumped at the sudden command but agreed when he reached his hand out, wiggling his long fingers. Lacing your hand with his, you follow him up the stairway, awing at the paintings that decorated the walls. He always had a beautiful home but you never got to see the rest of it, only meeting in his lounge room or his study. His hand gave yours a soft squeeze before he pushed open a door, a large king-sized bed coming into view. Your heart fluttered, your mind already knowing what was going to happen. Sighing softly, you look around, his room being just as beautiful as the rest of his home. Paintings decorated his walls and one picture in particular stuck out to you—a picture of him and his parents, two smaller children hanging around them. You awed at the picture, looking up at Taehyung who was already glancing back at you.

���Who are they?” You whispered, eyes falling back on the picture.

“My parents and my two younger siblings,”

“They’re beautiful,” You smile.

“Thank you,” He smirked, “I haven’t seen them since I chose this lifestyle but I always send them money,”

Your heart awed at that. He was too precious and you were thankful you were seeing this side of him. This whole time all you’ve known was the businessman Taehyung, the killer Taehyung but now, as you both stand in his room, you’re seeing his vulnerable side. You wanted to stay in this moment together but the feeling of his hands wrapping around your waist and his lips leaving soft kisses amongst your neck, you knew this precious moment was coming to an end.

Lulling your head to the side, you reach back and tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Taehyung kissed harder, his lips sucking on one particular spot that made a moan slip through your lips, his dick twitching at the sound. Satisfied at your reaction, Taehyung licked the spot, awing at the mark that he left, the mark that would tell people that he fucked you, that you were his, it made his heart flutter.

Turning you around, Taehyung stared down at you, your eyes fluttering shut, missing the touch of his lips against your neck. Pushing you back, your body fell on the bed, your hair flaring out. Taehyung was quick to take a mental picture, your body laid out against his comforter, ready for him to take.

“What do you want from me?” He quizzed, unbuckling his belt before ripping it through his loops, the sound making your hole clench around nothing.

Taehyung squatted down and grabbed your legs, kissing the bare skin as his hands began undoing your heels. The simple gesture was sweet, making your heart flutter but the way his eyes screamed sex, you couldn’t focus on the cute gesture anymore. Tossing your shoes behind him, Taehyung dropped to his knees, his lips lightly grazing your skin before pressing wet, sloppy kisses on the inside of your thighs. He already pushed your dress up, the fabric bundled around your waist and all that came between him and your sweet nectar was the lace panties that were taunting him.

“What a slutty color,” He hummed, pulling at the band before letting go, the sound echoing through the room, “You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, your mind too fogged with euphoria; however, the low growl that rumbled throughout his chest made you whimper.

“Answer me,” He seethed, landing a loud smack to the inside of your thigh.

“Y-Yes!” You squealed, jerking your legs up.

Chuckling darkly, Taehyung left a chaste kiss against the growing red spot. Your chest heaved up and down, your eyes trickling with tears of pleasure. Taehyung was never this rough, holding back multiple times but now you were in his territory, his home, he was able to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Sweet girl,” He hummed, bringing his index finger down to your underwear, tracing the spot where your clit would be, barely touching the fabric, “already so needy for my cock.”

As if he read your mind, his face came closer to your core, his tongue flattening against the lace underwear, licking a thick stripe up to your clit, the feeling just as wonderful as before. A loud whimper passed your lips, your hands coming down to press his face closer to your core but he tsked, pinning your hands down to the bed.

“Do I need to tie you up, hmm? Pretty little girls like you don’t deserve to pull my hair. You have to earn it, yeah?”

“Y-Yes,”

“Yes, what?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Yes sir?”

He growled and next thing you know, your underwear was being ripped off you and his face deep inside your heat. A loud moan escaped your lips, your hands gripping at the covers. His tongue wasted no time in delving inside your hole, licking your walls as his hands held your hips down, making sure you couldn’t budge. This feeling was indescribable, the feeling of him finally being rough with you making your mind swirl. Your knuckles were white, your grip tightening the more and more his tongue sank deeper.

Taehyung finally pulled back, your juices following his chin, the sight filthy in itself. Satisfied with your reaction, Taehyung leaned down and placed a tender kiss to your bundle of nerves making your body jerk at the touch. Bringing his hand down, Taehyung palmed at the growing erection, a soft whimper, one that you couldn’t hear, tumbled out of his throat.

“You taste so fucking good,” He moaned, pushing himself off the floor, his gaze falling on your already fucked out figure.

Fluttering your eyes open, you pout at the man who stared back at you, your juices glistening on his chin. The sight made you awe but you were quick to shut your mouth when Taehyung leaned down, smashing his lips against yours. Moaning, you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling, tugging at the thick locks causing Taehyung to let out a set of moans. Biting down on your lower lip, Taehyung’s hazily gazed back at you before roughly thrusting his clothed erection against your sopping wet cunt, a smirk pulling at his lips at the sudden arch of your back.

“Want Daddy to fill you up? To fill your sopping wet cunt with my thick cock, hm?” He cocked his head to the side, bringing his finger up to your jaw tracing the bone, “Make my pretty little slut cry?”

All you could do was nod your head but the way his jaw clenched made you whimper out a quiet ‘yes Daddy’. A satisfied smirk fell onto his lips before he pushed himself back up, undoing his shirt. You quickly sat up and rid yourself of your clothes, completely bare underneath him as he took his sweet time taking his pants off, his bulge sticking out in his underwear, your mouth watering at the sight.

“I think Daddy is gonna let you suck him off tonight. Does that sound good?”

You licked your lips and nodded your head furiously. You had been waiting so long to finally feel his huge dick settled in your mouth. You wanted to feel how heavy it was and good he tasted and now, that you were fixing to find out, your mouth drooled at the thought.

Rolling yourself onto your knees, you crouch, making yourself look like an obedient dog as you waited for him to let himself free, his underwear barely keeping it tucked in. Smirking at you, Taehyung slowly pulled his underwear down, his length springing free and smacking against his toned stomach, precum smearing on his skin.

“What’re you waiting for, kitten?”

That was all you needed before your hand wrapped around his length. You awed at how pretty his dick was. Veins prominent all around and soon enough, your tongue licked up the underside of his dick, your cunt clenching at the sight of him throwing his head back. Taehyung moaned at the way your mouth felt around his cock and what matters worse were the small kitten licks you gave to his slit, your tongue nudging at the small opening.

“Fuck, you’ve got such a filthy mouth, princess,” Taehyung carded his fingers through your hair before gripping the strands, shoving your mouth down onto his length, “but I don’t have time for you to tease,”

Taehyung took control over your head, bobbing your head up and down, his length heavy on your tongue as his tip nudged at the back of your throat. Your hands came up to clench the back of his thighs, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his smooth skin. Pushing your head back with a loud pop, a string of saliva stayed connected with your lips until you wiped the back of your mouth, panting as Taehyung sent you one of his signature smirks.

“How about I fuck your mouth, yeah?”

Before you could answer, Taehyung’s hands found their way to your head, gripping the sides before shoving his cock in your already opened mouth. His thrusts were short and his balls slapped against your chin as he fucked your filthy mouth.

Taehyung pulled his head to the side, “You take daddy’s cock so good. Only sluts take a big cock like this so well,”

Your pussy clenched at the praise but to make him feel better, you let out a loud moan, the noise vibrating around his length making his hips stutter. Sighing, Taehyung pulled his cock at slowly, wiping your chin with his thumb.

“If I keep going you’ll make me cum,” He chuckled, reaching back to land a quick tap on your ass, “lay on your back.”

You found yourself nestled against his pillows and your thighs squeezed shut as his eyes fell upon your body, taking in every single detail about you. His dick twitched at the sight and Taehyung settled above you, his chain swinging back and forth on his neck, this being a newfound kink. Your fingers came up to wrap around the chain, gently tugging him down.

Laughing lightly, Taehyung pressed his lips against yours, your lips perfectly molding together as you both fought for dominance. Brushing his tongue against your bottom lip, Taehyung shoved the muscle inside, both tongues tangling together as your teeth clashed against his other. Spit slowly fell down the side of your mouth and you weren’t ashamed.

Taehyung’s palms slowly felt around your body before finding your pebbled nub, twisting the sensitive nerves, making your back arch. His other hand came up to your other breasts, squeezing, pinching the soft mounds. A soft sigh passed your lips, the sound making Taehyung’s dick twitch.

Releasing your lips with a loud pop, Taehyung moved his mouth down to your right breasts, swirling his tongue around your nipple, his other hand pinching and rolling the sensitive nipple between his fingers. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the feeling almost being too much but Taehyung was quick to switch to your other breast before leaving a sweet tender kiss to the mound he just harassed. 

Taehyung spent his time toying with your smooth mounds but he pulled back with a loud smack, leaving another sweet kiss to the reddening skin before pressing a trail of kisses down your body, his shoulders broad as he held himself up. His lips finally found their way to the top of your pussy, letting out a breathy laugh that sent goosebumps over your body. Pressing a tender kiss to the skin, Taehyung looked back up at you, his eyes filled with lust. 

“I’m going to make you feel good okay?” 

You nodded and soon enough Taehyung found himself face to face with your sopping core once again. You were still sticky from before but that didn’t stop him from sucking a hickey on your lip, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“T-Taehyung please,” You sighed, bringing your fingers up to your breast to toy with them.

“What princess?”

Your heart clenched at the name, “Please do something, I need you…Daddy,” 

Something in Taehyung clicked before his tongue was deep in your core and his nose rubbed against your sensitive clit. A silent scream passed your lips as your hands found perched in his hair, tugging at the locks once more. Pulling back, Taehyung quickly shoved his middle finger in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digit before easing it slowly in you, your walls clenching around him making his dick twitch. A soft moan passed his lips at the feeling but he quickly pressed his lips to your nub, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, sucking, nibbling until panted moans were all that was heard. 

“You taste so sweet and it’s all mine,” He moaned, pressing a tender kiss to your nub before pressing another finger in, “Look at the way your pussy swallows my fingers, doesn’t want to let them go,”

Normally you would be embarrassed at the filth that was spewing from his mouth but the feeling of your orgasm building was all that you were worried about. 

“I’m close,” You sighed beautifully, the sound making Taehyung twitch his head.  

Slipping in another finger, Taehyung thrust his fingers in and out quickly, the squelch of your juices filling the room and finally, you snapped, throwing you back up and your thighs shaking from being pleasured. Taehyung rode out your high, slowly thrumming his fingers in and out, his lips sucking so softly around your clit but you were quick to swat his head away gently. Pulling back, Taehyung pulled his fingers out before shoving the three digits in his mouth, sucking the juices off before leaning down and shoving his tongue back inside you, licking, sucking all your juices up, the lewd sound causing another orgasm build up. 

Clenching your thighs, you press Taehyung’s head further into you, reaching down with your hand to furiously rub four fingers against your sensitive clit. Your orgasm snapped and relief washed over you. Falling limp, you panted as you calmed down but once you opened your eyes, you wish you hadn’t. Taehyung’s chin was dripping.

“Fuck,” He mewled, “You squirted all over me,” He whispered before diving back down, slurping up your juices. 

You softly whimpered and nudged his head away. Bringing his form back up to you, Taehyung pressed his lips down to you hard, your juices mixing in with your kiss. You sighed at the taste, gently rubbing the nape of his neck. His hands slowly rubbed your thigh and his dick gently pressed against your sopping wet cunt, the feeling making him want to combust but he held back, more focused on the way your lips meshed together. 

He pulled back, “That was so hot,” 

You blushed, bringing your hand up to cover your face but he quickly pushed it down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Don’t hide, beautiful,” That only made you blush more. 

Taehyung sat back, his eyes falling to the wet spot that settled beneath your butt; this made him growl. Grabbing his length, Taehyung pressed his tip to your lips, rubbing the sensitive skin against your juices, his hip involuntarily thrusting forward, the feeling making him throw his head back. You watched as his adam’s apple bobbed up and down, the feeling making your hole clenched, making Taehyung’s head snapped up, his chest heaving up and down. 

“Are you on birth control?” He breathed, nudging himself in you slightly before pulling out, teasing you. 

“Yes, You breathed out, eyeing where you two connect. 

“Mm,”

Giving his dick one more quick pump, Taehyung gently pushed his tip in, sighing loudly at the feeling of your wet walls around him. Hissing, Taehyung bottomed out, his body shaking as his head hung low. You moan at the feeling of being stretched out but you quickly brought your hands to his hair, running your fingers through the locks soothingly as Taehyung half himself back from an orgasm. His breath was shaky as he looked up, his eyes falling upon you.

“You feel so fucking good, kitten,” He mewled, his tongue coming out to lick his lips.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you let out a needy moan, “I’m glad but can you please move?”

Something in him snapped before he brought a hand up to your neck, squeezing at the column, “Don’t boss me around, you fucking slut,”

You swallowed roughly, your pussy involuntarily clenched around his length, a pained moan passing his lips. Something in your snapped as well because you soon found yourself rolling your hips, trying to make any movement that made him feel worse. Letting an angry growl, Taehyung pushed himself up and grabbed your thighs before ramming himself in you over and over. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of him finally moving. His dick abused your g-spot with every thrust, making you see stars. He continued this brutal pace and you felt another build-up, your back slowly arching until you snapped, your walls fluttering around his length.

“Fuck,” He gasped, his hips stuttering as he rode you through your high.

His hips kept their pace and as you sunk back into the mattress, Taehyung sought out his high. Dropping one thigh, Taehyung hugged your other as he brutally smacked his hips against yours. You let out a soft whimper at the feeling of your body building up another orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum,” You sobbed, bringing your arm up to hang over your eyes.

“Fuck,”

Taehyung reached down, pressing two fingers firm against your clit as he rubbed furiously, his hips matching the speed. With a couple of more snaps of his hips, Taehyung yelled, his cum spurting into you. With another snap of his fingers, your orgasm rang through. His breath fanned against your chest as he rode out his high, your walls milking him dry. His body shook and suddenly his body fell on top of yours.

You immediately began raking your fingers through his hair, soothing the man whose body was shaking at the orgasm he just had. Pressing a soft kiss to your chest, Taehyung lifted his hips, his soft member falling out before he rolled over, your body missing his warmth.

“You are a kinky man,” You hummed, rolling to your side to face him.

He laughed, pushing his bangs off his forehead, “I’ve never cum that fast before,” He sounded fucked out himself and that made you giggle even more.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, Taehyung pushed himself off the bed, shuffling his way to the bathroom before coming back with a cloth, cleaning you up gently. He went back to the bathroom but came back quickly, his bottom covered with new underwear and a shirt dangling from his fingers. Tossing the fabric to you, Taehyung rummaged through his closet, pulling out some grey sweats before handing them to you.

“Might need to stash you some clothes here,” He mumbled, shoving your feet through the pant's legs.

“Oh, so you expect me here more often?” You raised an eyebrow at the man who only raised one back.

“I would only hope so,”

You tugged at your gown, your nerves finally settling in. The art auction was slam packed, people buzzing about the pieces that were going to be on sale and the Grande Odalisque being one of the main pieces. Your hands were clammy as you neared the room, the cool metal of your gun feeling nice against your hot skin. Jimin and Hoseok were hot behind your trail, fitting in with the people around them. Seokjin’s extra men were piling in later, waiting for everyone to make their way in the room. The plan was simple: you were to auction as if you were going to buy, throw out some cash a couple of rounds and hope to snag Ademar.

“We’ll stand in the back, okay?”

You nodded at Jimin’s calming reassurance before taking a seat in the middle. Your eyes skipped around, trying to look for the devilish man but you didn’t see him, your heart falling. Rolling your eyes, you listen to the announcer.

“Five-hundred-thousand,” You called out to some random piece that you didn’t care for but another buyer called out higher.

Calling out a few more prices, your nerves began to get the best of you when you still haven’t seen the Odalisque. You were fixing to stand up but the feeling of someone sitting beside you made you stop. You were about to look until the feeling of a knife was placed underneath your thigh. Your breath hitched in your throat. Looking over, you noticed Ademar glaring back at you.

The announcer called out another painting, Ademar pressing the knife deeper into your leg, “Bid,” he demanded harshly.

“One-million won!” You shrieked.

Your ears were ringing, your nerves were on end until Jimin’s voice rang through.

“Taehyung’s in here,”

You let out a shaky breath. You felt eyes on the back of your head, knowing that it’s Taehyung’s and all you could do was shake, the pressure of the knife pressing deeper and deeper. Fortunately, the man called out the Grande Odalisque, your nerves heightening once more.

“You’re not going to win,” You whispered, looking over at the man.

His eyes raked over your face, “What do you—“

“Six-million won, that’s final,”

Everyone gasped, eyes falling onto Taehyung who walked up in the middle of the aisle. His eyes landed on Ademar who tried slipping out but Taehyung was quick to grab his arm, landing a solid punch in his face, Ademar slumping to the ground. Standing up, you pull out your badge.

“Ademar Boucher, you are under arrest for three counts of second-degree murder and for stealing,” You finished off the rest of his rights as Jimin and Hoseok brought him up to his feet, clamping the cuffs around his wrists.

Seokjin nodded his head at you before taking the man out. You felt an arm wrap around your waist and a soft kiss plant to your head.

“Why’re you so hot?” He chuckled, leading you out of the room as the room buzzed with confusion.

“You look hot,” You fired back, raising an eyebrow at the man.

Leading you to a counter, Taehyung paid for the piece and turned around, sending you a quick smile.

“Why did you buy the piece?” You questioned.

“So I can burn that piece of shit,”

You bellowed out a laugh as Taehyung led you out to your car. And as a man of his word, as soon as you both got back to his place, he threw the painting in his fire, the beautiful piece fading away as the fire ate it up.

“I’m so glad the case has finally closed,” You mumbled, brushing the fallen hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” He sighed, “me too. I don’t understand how you do this cop shit,” You laughed and kissed him quickly. Taehyung smiled down at you and brought you into a hug.

“I have a question,” He mumbled in your hair.

You pulled back, “What is it?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your cheeks flushed at the question. You had been waiting for this moment ever since the first moment you two had sex. He was everything you wanted in a man. He was beautiful, talented, and overall such a wonderful man.

To answer his question, you pull his thick folder out from your bag, tossing it into the fire, melting away with the thing that brought you together.

“Thank fucking god,”

It has been five months since the murder of Miss Choi closed. You’ve taken a break from the force for a month and spent the time with Taehyung but once that month ended you were back on your feet, solving cases and throwing people in prison; it’s what you loved. Ever since that case, Seokjin has placed you on more difficult cases, trusting that you will solve them because, after your wild ride with the Grande Odalisque, you were sure you could handle anything.

You and Taehyung have been going strong. He still did his thing and you did yours. Your sex life was out of this world and his love for you was unconditional and even though he wouldn’t tell anyone, he’s falling for you and he’s falling hard. You couldn’t blame him though, you were falling hard for him. Every day he surprised you and you found yourself canceling your contract with your renter and moving in with Taehyung. You spent most nights there anyways, moving more of your items in over a couple of months but he finally talked you into moving.

So, here you were laid up in bed with him, his arms wrapped around your waist as his head settled on your breast—just finishing from your third round of sex. Taehyung placed gentle kisses against your skin, his thumb grazing your skin. You both laid there in silence, soaking in the warmth and comfort of each other. The moment of silence ended however when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

“Who is it?” Taehyung mumbled, not wanting to let you go but did. Your face dropped at the message, your heart falling to your ass.

From: Seokjin Ademar killed. Poison found in his blood.

Your phone dropped out of your hand, bringing both your hands up to your face to rub your eyes. If your eyes weren’t deceiving you then this was going to be a total fucking nightmare.

“What is it?” Taehyung mumbled looking at you.

“Time to go find another killer.”

[a-duck-with-a-book]

REVIEW // Seven Blades in Black (The Grave of Empires #1) by Sam Sykes

★☆☆☆☆

Disclaimer: while I was reading this book, I found out that Sam Sykes has been accused by numerous women of sexual harassment. You can find more information about it below: - a post listing several accusations of misconduct - twitter post responding to the situation - one of the accusations against Sam Sykes - his quickly-deleted apology Suffice to say, I have no intention of continuing this series or reading any more of his books.

I have a lot to say about this novel, so I’ll begin by making a quick bullet point list outlining what I liked and disliked:

Liked:

Cavric <3

Lisette deserved better

Some interesting concepts in the world building

Disliked:

Sal as a narrator

Sal as an antihero

Sal as a person in general

Writing style

Constant interruptions

Meandering narrative

The “narrator knows something but the writer avoids revealing it until the end for the drama” trope

This is a Big Tough World and Nobody Gets To Be Happy

Lesbians written by a man who harasses women

Unnecessarily long

// image: official cover art Jeremy Wilson //

Let’s begin with the full review by starting with the (few) positives, shall we?

First and foremost, I genuinely enjoyed Cavric and Lisette. It is unfortunate that they had to deal with Sal for the entirety of the novel, but we’ll get to her later. If this book had been a buddy adventure with these two, in which Cavric slowly shows Lisette that she is in a toxic relationships and deserves to move on and find someone better for herself, I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more. Secondly (and finally), Sykes introduced some genuinely interesting world building. The background of the Empire and the Scar was fascinating to read, but unfortunately did not save the rest of this mess.

Alright now let’s rant.

I have 35 notes and 52 highlights from this book, so this might get block quote heavy. (Go check out my notes if you want to see me slowly lose my sanity)

Sal is awful. I know she’s meant to be awful, but she’s not flawed in the way that I think Sykes was trying to write her. I believe she was intended to be a scruffy, lovable antihero who fought her way through a dangerous landscape with her sharp blade and even sharper tongue. A girl who had wrongs committed against her in the past, who did terrible things but is now on the road to an epic redemption arc. She shoots bad guys, she says f*ck and a*s a lot, and she is morally complex. That’s the character that Sykes was trying to make. The one he created, however, is a genuinely terrible person who I had no desire to see come out on top. I have a myriad of issues with her, but let’s outline a couple below: (1) She is incredibly toxic for Lisette. Am I getting a bit too heated about a fictional relationship? Sure. Was I happy to read a toxic lesbian romance written by a man who sexually harasses women? Nope. It kind of grossed me out, actually. Anyway, let me give you a run down of their relationship. Sal arrives. Sal and Lisette sleep together. Sal asks Lisette to give her weapons and or fix things for her. Sal sneaks away, telling herself no good will come of this relationship and they will only cause each other pain. Sal needs something. Sal comes back. Repeat over and over. She constantly says, throughout the book, that it would be better if they just left each other, but then again Sal is the one who goes back to Lisette over and over, causing her renewed heartbreak. I don’t know if Sykes thought that simply making Sal aware of how terrible this behavior was was enough, but it just made me incredibly frustrated. At one point Sal says:

”Intellect like hers is a curse. The more you understand of the world, the less of it you trust.”

Yes, Sal, that’s what’s giving her trust issues. Her intelligence. Nice. By the end of the book, it seems that they are on the mend-I’m getting end-game vibes from these two. But honestly, I spent the entire time thinking that Lisette deserved so much better than Sal. Like literally a chicken would have provided healthier companionship. I’ll end with this quote, in which Lisette outlines perfectly why Sal does not deserve her:

“What am I doing wrong that you’d choose this over me?”

(2) Sal is annoying. Really, really annoying. I kid you not, half of this book is made up of Sal’s snarky comments. She is badass. She has a gun. She is an outlaw. And she will never, EVER shut up about it. Imagine a quirky line after an otherwise dark or action-packed sequence. Funny, right? Might break the tension, make the narrator more endearing, etc. Now imagine one such line after every. Single. Paragraph. Picture a violent battle scene where the protagonist is fighting for their lives against a ruthless opponent. Now insert a snarky comment after every other paragraph and watch the entire flow of the scene fall apart with constant interruptions. That’s what this book is-which brings me to my next point.

The writing isn’t great. There are constant interruptions, meandering narratives, and the trope that haunts me in nearly every dark fantasy novel I read-This is a Big Tough World and Nobody Gets To Be Happy-is shoved repeatedly in your face. Let’s start with the interruptions, returning to my previous point (ie. Sal never shuts up), by looking at this sequence:

I  followed the shrieking wind. I had come here prepared for something bad. But I wasn’t prepared for just how bad it was. I rounded the corner of the hall, came out atop a battlement. The wind struck me with a screaming gale, forcing me to shield my face and cling to the stone for purchase. My eyes squinted against the harshness of the light, the kind of offensive pale you only see in your nightmares. And through them, I could see the bowed shapes of towers sagging, the flayed flesh of banners whipping in a wind that wouldn’t cease, the shadows of figures frozen in a death that had brought no peace. And I knew where I was. There was nothing that had ever made Fort Dogsjaw special. It had never been crucial for defense, never a hub for trade, it hadn’t even been named for anything special—the commander just liked the sound of it. It lived its whole life a regular, boring Imperial fort on the edge of the Husks. It only got important at the time of its death. Over three hundred mages and a few thousand regulars had assembled here in one day—some to receive assignments, some to man the garrison, some to head back to Cathama on leave. They had been laughing, cursing, drinking when the news came that the new Emperor of Cathama was a nul, born with no magic. And then there had been a moment of silence.

I’ve bolded for emphasis, but do you see what I’m talking about? The paragraph-line-paragraph-line format is so annoying to read, I had to put the book down at certain points because of how frustrated I got. It interrupted the forward movement of the story, making the novel drag on and on.

You know what else makes this feel like the nightmare version of the Never-ending Story? The page count. I don’t mind long books-The Priory of the Orange Tree is one of my favorite reads so far this year, and it’s longer than this one-but they have to have a reason for being so hefty. As I mentioned earlier, a considerable chunk of Seven Blades of Black is Sal making her awful, awful, AWFUL asides. I literally cannot express how much I despise those comments. Okay, let’s move on before I get hung up on THOSE STUPID COM-*cough*

This novel is marred by unnecessary lines and a meandering plot that drag out the story. One instance is the amount of times that Sal is a second away from killing someone and, for some reason (usually not a good one), fails in her goal. She places a gun at someone’s head and goes through a whole monologue in her head until the person miraculously escapes. This type of subversion of expectations is fine every once in a while, but if you are going to build up to a crucial moment and then take away the satisfaction of the defeat of some villain (or mini-boss, as many of the antagonists in this book feel like), then you need to have a good reason for doing it upwards of twenty times in ONE BOOK. Secondly, if you spend almost the entire novel setting up more and more villains and stressing how hard they are to kill and how dangerous their powers are (and presenting them separately and isolated), then when you have them all in one place at the end, at which point the protagonists starts going through them like a plate of french fries at a seagull convention, then you’re kind of taking away the satisfaction of the death. Somehow, this book manages to do both. We are constantly teased with almost-kills, then at the end Sal just blows through everyone in five seconds, easy-peasy.

I’m almost done, I swear-just two more gripes.

So much of the tension of this book rests on the fact that Sal, our narrator and our main viewpoint into the story, knows something that we don’t. I’ll be upfront with you-I hate this trope. If our POV character, the one whose mind we are in constantly, is entirely aware of something that happened before the beginning of the novel, and the author keeps from revealing that something for the entirety of the story solely to add drama, then I will not be a happy reader. Where is the logic. We are in this person’s mind. Just show us already and add tension ELSEWHERE.

And FINALLY (as painful as it was for you to read this, it was worse for me to write it), another issue I have with a lot of dark fantasy (see my review of Nevernight) is that the author really, really wants us to know that this is an incredibly dangerous and dark world by filling it to the brim with edge lord narrators, Big Guns, and, usually, women being harrased-because why not force all your female readers to constantly have to read about women getting assaulted? Apart from Sal’s 300,000 comments explaining to us that she is an asshole, that the Scar is Dangerous, and that she has Killed A Lot of People, we as readers must sit through hundreds of lines of dialogue and exposition that beat us over the head with the fact that this is DARK fantasy. This isn’t your nice little fairy adventure-no sir. Here we have Swear Words and Violence and Men writing Queer Women. To emphasize just how blatant Sykes is with the dark part of dark fantasy, let me tell you about an exchange Sal has with three old ladies who run a criminal empire. In the 2-3 pages that these women appear in, we are told, in some form or other, that they are grandmas who kill people, a grand total of, I kid you not, ELEVEN TIMES. Here are some excerpts from that whole situation:

”“Now, now.” Yoc, old and white haired and sweet as a grandmother—if that grandmother also had people killed on the regular—smiled at me. “I’m sure she has a good reason for being here.” She raised the hand that had signed the contracts that had killed a thousand men and women and took up her whiskey glass. “After all, I’m sure she knows how much we don’t like having our game interrupted.”” *I counted this as one since it’s in the same exchange but technically he mentions it TWICE

”…one didn’t waste the Three’s time if one didn’t want to end up with their teeth pried out.”

”How often do you meet the three old ladies who have people killed for money?”

”I said we should kill her on principle.”

”“But you know how many orphans I’ve made, don’t you, dear?””

”“He’s not so unlike us, is he? A murderer, yes. A monster to some. But, at his heart, a businessman.”

”Theirs were the hands that signed a thousand death contracts a year.”

”When they could be bothered to look up from their game, they decided who lived and died with a stroke of their pen.”

”At a word, they could have me stripped, tied, tortured, and cut up…”

”the Three don’t lie. Their assassins do. Their thieves do. But they don’t.”

”I had already wasted their time and I knew the Three were being generous just letting me fuck off instead of having me killed for the effort.”

TL;DR - Sal is annoying, Sykes is a bad writer, and Someone should have stopped me from reading this book