#or at the very least he never sold- *gunshots*

[jonathanbyersphd]

Ngl it's bonkers to me that Nancy lists all of Jonathan's best qualities in 4x01 and some people still think that man is the devil

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Bloody

PART ONE: DOG MEAT

Also on AO3

Mini-series masterlist

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Bounty Hunter!Reader

WC: 2.3k words

Series Summary: Hunting down your father’s killer – a powerful raider by the name of Axl – you end up being saved from a bad situation by none other than a ghoul. After finding out you have goals in common, you form an uneasy alliance with him, but things get much, much more complicated than that.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, THIS FIC IS 18+, Dead dove: do not eat, canon typical violence, the ghoul being the ghoul, swearing, drug mentions/use (chems), enemies to lovers, eventual smut, blood/gore mentions, sorta dom/sub dynamics, some mentions of cannibalism, angst, some whump, aaaand for now that’s all i can think of but lmk if another tag is needed.

A/N: This is my very first time writing for Cooper Howard/The Ghoul, so I’m still trying to learn how he talks/carries himself. Excited to be writing this little mini series though! :) hope you like <3

———-

Blood flowed relentlessly toward your head, making the upside-down world blur into a vivid amalgamation of color. The raiders' laughter sounded more like the barking of jackals, coming from all around you, disorienting you further.

As you fought to stay conscious, your muscles strained against the ropes that held you up, the rough material biting into your skin. Your head was hovering just a few inches away from the surface of murky, radioactive water. You could feel more than see something lurking in its depths, hungry, waiting for the right time to strike.

And you? You were the bait to lure it out.

Where had it all gone wrong, exactly?

Well, perhaps it had started with you being so overly confident. Sure, you had learned more than a few dirty tricks in your years as a bounty hunter – having to keep yourself both fed and alive while you completed your actual mission – but that didn’t mean you could fight off a large group of brawny, ruthless raiders all by yourself.

At the very least, you’d managed to kill one of them and injure another with your crossbow before you were rewarded with a strike across your face. Bright white stars ignited in your vision as you were quickly subdued and strung upside down from the rusted arm of a broken crane.

The worst part was, you’d barely had time to ask any of the questions you’d wanted to ask. You supposed you’d never been a great interrogator, anyway, but that was something to concern yourself with another time; If there even was another time.

“Come on, where’s the fucking gulper? We don’t have all fucking day here,” one of the raiders, a big-headed bald man, gruffed.

Another one of them, scrawnier and rat-like, let out an amused grunt. “Heh, should’ve just chopped her up and sold her as dog meat.”

“Still time for that, if it doesn’t come,” the bald one said. “Think we should lower her more? If her head’s underwater, she’ll thrash around and maybe get the gulper's attention.”

At this, panic flared within you once more. You tried moving your wrists, legs kicking more and more urgently. The raiders laughed again at your rendition of the gallowdance. Your head felt like it was on fire, dangerously nearing an explosion.

Distantly, you heard the creak of metal as the rope that held you aloft was adjusted. Your body jerked as it began to descend, the crown of your head now submerged. Your mind raced as you tried to find ways to save yourself, but it was getting harder and harder to think. You wanted to scream, but you were only able to make a weak, gurgling sound.

There was a loud splash, entirely too close for comfort. Jeering from the raiders as they prepared for a gruesome show. You began to accept your fate, dismay over your failure to complete your life’s mission greater than your fear of death.

But suddenly, you heard various gunshots in rapid succession. It’s a fucking ghoul! somebody shouted frantically. The confused screams of the raiders followed along with some answering shots. The heavy thump of bodies collapsing, one by one.

It was silent for a moment, except for a breeze settling the dust and your heartbeat pounding in your head like a drum. Then there was the soft clink of spurs as someone approached you, an old pair of cowboy boots appearing in your vision.

You tried craning your neck to get a better view of your supposed savior. You could barely see his face, the sun haloing his head like a saint’s. But there are no angels in the wasteland, you thought deliriously, only roaming devils searching for carrion to pick on.

His voice was low and raspy, with a southern drawl that was almost soothing, in a strange way. “Well, well… Ain’tcha just the prettiest hunk of meat I ever did see?”

A shuddery gasp escaped your throat as you felt the rope loosen a little more, fully submerging your head. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you were swallowed by darkness, immediately unconscious.

—-----------------------------------------

“See that there?” your father whispered, pointing up at a cluster of stars. “That’s the big dipper. And just below its tail is the little dipper. Do you see ‘em?”

You nodded, awed by the simple, ephemeral beauty of a still night sky. Your father’s soothing presence, his patient teachings, the world not so horrible when seen through his eyes.

“Like us,” you said with a smile. “Always together.”

His smile was sad then. You couldn’t remember it being that way, but memories tended to warp over time, didn’t they?

“Yes, sweetie. Always together,” he said, trying to sound as promising as possible. “But if we ever separated, for whatever reason, remember that you can look up at the sky at night, and you will always find us there.”

—------------------------------------------

You woke up sputtering, thinking you were still underwater. Your stomach lurched violently and your body twisted onto your hands and knees, retching. Spewing bile as yellow as the RadAway you found yourself hooked onto. Panting with both exertion and disorientation, searing pain lancing through your skull.

It was close to sunset, the sky beginning to burn orange and gold, the atmosphere cooler. You were still at the quarry where you’d first encountered the raiders, but you were a safe distance away from the water.

You could smell and hear a small campfire nearby. Felt a presence behind you, a heavy gaze fixed on you.

“You must be all kinds of stupid, huh? Chargin’ into that battlefield of your own makin’, not even a hint of backup around to help.” The ghoul shook his head with amusement. “Then again, you must’ve been lookin’ for a guaranteed death… So which is it, suicidal or stupid?”

You spat on the dirt and roughly wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glaring at him. If you knew one thing, it was to avoid ghouls as best as you could. Coming across one from time to time was inevitable, but you’d never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be saved by one. Or that you would still be in one piece in his presence.

At least he wasn’t worse for wear, and nowhere near feral. He was missing his nose, as all ghouls did, and his skin was leathery and burnt. His features were skeletal, shadowed under the wide brim of his hat. Otherwise… he wasn’t unbearable to look at.

“No? Y’ain’t gonna tell me?” he said, the curiosity in your stare not unnoticed by him. His eyes roamed over you in return. “Gotta be honest, I was real tempted to take a bite earlier, but I never really took a liking to dog meat.”

He chuckled and your frown only deepened, hatred and rage alight in your eyes. You tried to scoot further away, but it was then you noticed a rope was tied around one of your ankles, the other end of it under the ghoul’s boot.

“What do you want with me, ghoul?” You croaked, your throat scratchy and raw from the stomach acid.

“Well, that ain’t very grateful of you, sweetheart. I saved your skin back there,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment, unholstering his pistol. “I could’ve been just as unmerciful as those raiders, if not more.”

You swallowed hard at the imagery, but you didn’t let your dread show. “And why weren’t you?”

He leaned forward, barrel lazily pointed at you. His eyes narrowed expectantly, and you realized he truly wanted to hear some gratitude from you before continuing.

Stubbornly, you clenched your jaw shut and continued to glare. He looked off into the horizon, noticing how quickly the light was waning.

“Think you’d fare any better when the fiends come out to play? Or some super mutant?” He mused, his tone bored. “I ain’t got a whole lot of time here.”

After the day you had, you didn’t really want to take those chances.

The words crawled up your throat like a second wave of acid, scalding your tongue as you uttered them. “Thank you… for saving me.”

“Now there’s a well mannered girl. Knew you had it in ya,” he said with a roguish grin. “Y’know that means you owe me one, don’tcha?”

You dipped your chin in confirmation, hating that you couldn’t argue with him on that one. Not many — if anyone at all — were spared the wasteland, so this was not something to be taken lightly. Especially not while already being tied to him, with virtually zero chances of escaping alive.

“But I ain’t gonna cash in that favor now, so don’t worry your pretty lil head ‘bout it,” he continued, but you didn’t feel at all eased by that statement. “I do wanna know somethin’ though… just what on earth possessed you to follow those men?”

You blinked at him in both surprise and confusion. How did he know that?

“See, I’d been trailing that group of shitheads for a few days. Was after that big headed fella, the leader, Tiberius,” He waved his gun around dismissively, like that part of the story was irrelevant. “But then, I noticed they had another shadow behind them — A quiet lil mousey jus’ like yourself.”

You shrugged one shoulder, unsure of how much truth you should actually give him. “I was looking for some information.”

“What’s that?” He spoke up, cupping his hand over his ear. “What you mumblin’ for? C’mere so I can hear you better.”

With that, he stood up, yanking the rope with more force than was necessary. Your back hit the ground, dust and rocks scraping your skin as you were pulled towards his feet. Trying to stop yourself with your hands only ripped up your palms, so you went slack on the last tug towards him.

He tilted his head to one side as he observed you, a flash of teeth that showed his continued amusement.

“Much better. Now what was that you were sayin’, darlin’?”

You bared your teeth in return, internally fuming. “I said I was looking for some goddamn information.”

He gave you a mocking pout. “Aw, sweetheart… fella wasn’t as forthcomin’ as ya thought, was he?”

“Fuck you,” you spat before you could stop yourself.

“There’ll be time enough for that,” he chuckled, settling his boot on your hipbone. “But first, what kind of information were you tryin’a get?”

“Why do you care? The fuck’s it to you?”

The barrel of his gun was pointed at you once more in warning, right between your eyes. His boot pressed down on your hip until you squeaked, knowing it would bruise.

“His brother… Axl,” you panted, gripping his boot in a futile attempt to get it off you. “I need to - I need to find him.”

He let out a long, low whistle. “Axl, huh? Now I know you really got a death wish, and you’re just stupid to boot.”

“You wouldn’t get it, ghoul,” you said through gritted teeth. “I don’t expect you to know anything about losing someone you love.”

He tensed then, hand trembling for just the briefest second. His features hardened, chapped lips thinning into a flat, angry line.

He lifted his boot only to land a harsh kick to your ribs, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Again, you felt like hurling, coughing violently instead.

“Oh, I know a whole lot more than you think, smoothie,” he said, going silent for a moment as he seemed to think. “Why you lookin’ for Axl? I can jus’ take care of you right ‘ere if you want to die so badly.”

“I’m going to kill him, with my own fucking hands,” you growled, too spent to beat around the bush any longer. “He-he killed my father last year.”

The briefest moment of stunned silence before the ghoul burst out laughing.

“Ain’t that somethin’. You? Takin’ out the big bad raider all by yourself? Now I’ve heard it all,” he shook his head once again. “You’re a spunky little gal, I’ll give ya that much.”

“It’s the law of the wasteland,” you said. “He owes me.”

He crouched next to you, his interest fully piqued. One side of his mouth was pulled up in a sly grin, his gaze held by yours.

“Tell ya what, I myself got some business to attend to with our dear friend Axl, and I just so happen to know where the fucker likes to hide out,” he said, enjoying the sparkle igniting in your eye — that thirst for revenge, for blood.

“Please,” was the only thing you could say, breathless, gripping his tattered coat. “I’ll do anything.”

“Anything, huh?” His tongue ran over his teeth pensively. “Well, seeing as you owe me a favor, I was just gonna take you along with me. Easier that way for you to repay me.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, not wanting to stay on the ground. Your heads were much closer, but you tried your hardest not to let it get to you.

“What business do you have with him?” You asked warily.

“That ain’t none of your concern, darlin’,” he said, removing the rope from around your ankle to bind your wrists together. “Trust me or not, y’ain’t got no choice but to come with me. Now get up, gotta find ourselves a place to hole up in for the night.”

Painstakingly, you stood up, grunting with both pain and the exhaustion that suddenly crashed into you. As soon as you were on your feet, he tugged you forward, not waiting a moment longer before starting to walk.

“If things go tits up, well… Least I got myself a little snack for the road,” he said over his shoulder with a wink.

“I thought you said you didn’t eat dog meat.”

“Heh, well, you’re starting to prove to be a little more useful than that. But we’ll see about the taste.”

——

[heliosthegriffin]

Class of One

Ao3 Link

----

AN: Sorry, forgot to put the break in it.

Chapter 18 - All Against One

Jaune twitched, as he heard the cheers from outside, eyeing the way behind him warmly, before walking out into the arena. He felt his skin crawl as he entered, a million curious eyes all on him. He stiffened up, as thoughts and images of his nice, quiet dorm room and personal suite at Vista appeared in his mind, along with the news never showing his face again.

"We love you, Jaune!"

"Miracle boy!"

"Sign, my----"

Not likely, he admitted to himself. Alright, now to lose, he may have made it this far, but there was no way he was getting any farther than this. Ah, soon, he'd be a loser again, and never have to worry about public appearances again.

But, he still had to take care of business, before he lost, at least. 

Across from Jaune, were two young adults with shiny luxurious gold hair that naturally fell into curls that drifted faintly in the breeze in the arena. Their features would be almost impossible to tell apart from one another, if not for the fact that one was a man and the other a woman, which even then, they made it difficult. The man was tall, well built, and positively leonine in appearance, while the woman was sleek, athletic, and more well, lioness. Despite the clear sexual dimorphism, it was very easy to blur them together in Jaune’s head.

"Why is he wearing a bathrobe?" His opponent looked to his partner, who looked as bewildered as the man’s question sounded.

"I- I don't know." 

Jaune gave them an awkward wave.

The man turned his head to look at his partner, hair moving like streams of molten gold around him. "Is he mocking us?"

"I-I don't know?" The woman looked at Jaune, and his bathroom, like she would a cryptid. 

The speakers turned on. "Greetings, Ladies and Gentlemen to the Arena! Vytal Arena! Tonight, we once again have our Legend in the making, Jaune Arc! Fighting for our grateful eyes, as he once again comes to decimate his unworthy foes, to show us what a -" 

There came a sound of commotion over the speaker, as what sounded like an argument with an unfamiliar voice began, a chainsaw being revved up, followed by several thumps, bullwhip being lashed, and a gunshot.

A tired, haggard, though much calmer voice took over. "We're sorry for the inconvenience folks, but we of the Vytal Commission have decided to remove the former announcer, due to unacceptable levels of personal favoritism towards a certain contestant. From now, until the foreseeable future, I'll be taking over." He paused, taking a sip of water. "Jaune Arc versus the Team Regal twins, Regal Regalia and Regina Regalia, let the fight commence."

They definitely were twins, both blondes like him, but they looked like they could be in a magazine, any magazine. The brother had a saber and a revolver, while the sister had a gun-pike.

The Regal Twins moved forward in sync, moving to circle around him, and Jaune made his move. In one fluid motion, one that he had been practicing in the bathroom since he was twelve for this exact situation, he threw off his bathrobe, leaving it to slowly flutter to the ground.

The crowd gasped. The announcer gasped. The Twins... Did not gasp, because they were about to stab Jaune, but if they weren't, they'd probably gasp too.

As underneath, what the bathrobe covered, was the single most tacky tracksuit in modern history, entirely covered in Jaune's various businesses, from his hotel the Vista, to his various brands of merchandise he sold his likeness too, to even the Dust mind he half-owned.

---

Jacque Schnee seethed! Face turning red, as his mustache bristled with anger, and jaw set firmly! 

But, then had to stop, as his jaw started to hurt.

He settled for slamming his hand against his desk. 

"Ow!" He rubbed his hand, then looked at his desk. "This isn't over," He pressed a button on the desk. "Elizabeth."

"Yes, Mr. Schnee?" A bored, middle-age woman responded.

"Schedule to have my desk destroyed by firing squad."

"Yes, Mr. Schnee. Anything else, Mr. Schnee?"

He thought for a minute. "Some headache medicine, and an ice-bag."

"Did you give yourself a booboo, Mr. Schnee?"

"N-no." He adamantly denied it.

"Understood, Mr. Schnee."

All this, because that damn boy, managed to get free advertising on the single most viewed program of the year! Jacques was nearly glowing green with envy and impotent rage.

A knock came at his door.

"What is it?" He asked coldly.

A head of white-hair poked in. "Father?"

"Yes, number 3?"  Or whatever, Winter's second replacement was called.

"Whitley, father, my name's Whitley, I was just wondering, perhaps, if we could go fishing?" The boy asked timidly, which internally annoyed Jacques. Why was his offspring so lacking in confidence?

With a disappointed sigh, he waved the boy away. "Go away, number 3, I have better things to do besides entertain your childish urges. Come back when you win that piano competition."

"Again, it's Whitley, father." He paused. "I don't play the piano, I play-"

"Then go learn to play the piano! If you didn’t waste time not playing the piano, you could be quite good at it. Now leave. Now." Jacque shooed away whatever his name was. Why were children so difficult?

The boy frowned, then left. "Yes, father."

Jacques looked back at the screen, now how to get rid of this brat?

----

"Victor! Team Jaune!"

Jaune stood victorious over the two opponents. Not quite sure how he'd pulled that off.

"My eyes!"

"Your eyes!"

"My hip!"

"Your hip!"

Oh right, they shared senses. Kind like those weirdo's he fought a while back, the ones he kicked in the sensitives.

He was a little disappointed. Jaune didn't want to go any further in the competition, maybe he could give-

An icy cold sensation struck the back of his neck, as a familiar aura initiated contact with his own, that made him turn around. In the stands, with her arms crossed, Glynda Goodwitch sat. Looking down at him like a wrathful demon lord, her smile merciless and icy. She deadlocked eyes with him, then swiftly dragged her thumb across her throat.

Jaune got the message, no dropping out. As he nodded in complete terror.

Then he felt another aura touch his, and then turned to look in the stands. There, a familiar man awaited with long, pale white-gold hair and sharp red eyes that demanded his attention. Dressed in a simple, but elegant white toga with gold stitches that covers a statuesque body. (Jaune was starting to notice a pattern about body types in his unfortunate career.)

Ar Kaus. His senior looked at him with a smile, and waved with a sort of condescending energy. His team-mates were hanging around him, the two other boys yelling at each other, while the sole female, Giran Tina was staring at him, evilly.

Jaune then realized that at this rate, he was going to have to fight that monster again. He still remembered the last fight they had, if it could be called that! He didn't remember it happening, just the aftermath!

Then the man got up, his team following after him.

Jaune sighed. Talk about being stuck between one ass-beating and another.

-----

'Somewhere in Haven'

Little Miss Malachite watched the match with unblinking eyes, semblance completely activated.

 'Web-Feed' part of the psychic family of semblances, more specifically the psychometric sub-family, allowed her to link her aura with the various monitors around her, letting her absorb information at a rate that was second to none.

Seconds passed on the outside world, while on the inside hours passed mentally, as she absorbed weeks worth of data in a sort of trance, in her mind time flowed at an accelerated rate, while useless in combat, due to it requiring her body to be still to allow complete focus, it was perfect for espionage. Minutes passed as she compiled and consumed the information, carefully categorizing all the new information, even the seemingly useless ones. As she had learned through her decades of business, that there was no such thing as useless information, no matter how minute.

She tapped the side of her head, where a cybernetic implant lies, that connected her mind with her network of electronics. Malachite uploaded her thoughts and memories to her private files, not for her benefit, her semblance was evolved enough to grant her a inhuman memory, mixed with her various implants, did not let her forget anything she did not want too. Even then, she made backups, as in her line of work, you could never be too prepared.

However, this was all, for any potential clients.

A tug on her mind, led her to one of her applications, she opened it.

It was coded, but the message was simple. "Keep Jaune Arc from winning, Vytal Tournament, by any means necessary." She went through her data, and quickly found out who had sent this, it was the head of one of the families Haven, Kagetora Jin, well-known for a high amount of flag-waving and national pride.

She thought about the risks vs rewards, weighing them, the number involved were enticing, but the danger of targeting a contestant, a powerful one nonetheless, even more so.

But, then she thought some more, there was more to gain, especially if she played her hand right. She might not be a betting woman, but it wasn't a bet, if it was a sure thing, right?

Given the information she had seen about Arc, he was powerful, more than any two-bit criminal organization could hope to combat. But, her Spiders were on another level entirely, one method or another, he wouldn't come up winning. Besides, it wasn’t about getting rid of him, it was about not letting him win.

With a smile, she pressed accept.

Then another message came up, this one furrowed her brows.

 'Capture' Was all it asked of her.

 It didn't come from any person, or organization, she recognized, but she did recognize the people inside. It was the other finalist from Beacon ADPT (Adept).

That was a taller order, but connecting to another feed. She saw Ar Kaus approach Jaune Arc, and realized she could capture two birds with one mission.

With a hesitant finger, she accepted.

-----

"So, how have you been, Miracle Boy?" Jaune couldn't tell if that was supposed to be condescending or not. Ar Kaus just seemed like one of those people who spoke like that.

Jaune shrugged. "Alright, I guess."

"You've been doing well in the tournament,"

"Are you going to knee-cap me, so that you get an easy win? Cause, if so, just let me save you the trouble and-"

"Dear goodness, no!" Ars actually had a look of disgust on his face. "I look forward to a good fight, I just wanted to get to know my junior better."

"Oh!" Jaune lowered his leg, which he had rested on a rail, and his brightly glowing fist. "Ok."

"After the tournament, me and my team are graduating. So, this might be the last time I get a chance to really get to know you."

Jaune laughed with some embarrassment. "Sorry, it's just sometimes you build up this internal image of someone, and it just gets you all confused."

"It's fine, it happens to everybody." A waiter walked up to them, Ars pointed at what he wanted on the menu, and Jaune did the same. "So, what motivates you, Jaune, if I can call you that?"

"Only if I can do the same."

"Agreeable."

Jaune nodded. "Yeah, anyway, uh, how do I put this." Jaune looked at the wall, thinking, then decided to cut his losses and be honest. "What motivates me is being so far in over my head, that I've sunk to the bottom of the ocean, then found myself on surfacing on the other-side of Remnant."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I've no idea how I got this far, frankly, I thought I'd be dead by now, and that would solve my problems, but, I'm not that lucky. Everything you see is just... chance, pure random number generating chaos and entropy, honestly, with how much I succeed, I think that I might be shortening the world's life-span due to opposite effect of me succeeding in any large way, being countered by a equally horribly bad success."

"Oh, that is, wow. You’ve thought a lot about that haven’t you?"

"Yeah, I stare at my ceiling a lot between bouts of self-hatred and,-"

"Jaune, I just meant like what made you want to be a huntsman, I get you have some things to get off your chest, like cheating into beacon, or drinking non-name brand tea."

Jaune froze, his eyes grinding in socket to look at his senior in complete dread. "You know what?"

"Yeah, why are you drinking store-brand tea, instead of the name-brand stuff? You own a hotel man, you can definitely afford a 1 Lien difference."

"Because it tastes the same! The other thing man!"

"That you cheated into Beacon? That?"

"Yes! That!" Jaune hissed, gripping the table.

Ars shrugged. "Giran sneaks into the office every now and again for a laugh, and she read your file." He leaned forward. "Jaune, you put a school that doesn't exist as your training academy, and for your reference ... your dead grandmother. The fact you got in is nigh-impossible, frankly. When I first met you in Ms. Goodwitche's class, I got your measure, that you were almost completely untrained, and I thought you were definitely going to die.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Ars smiled. “But, somehow you not only didn't die, but somehow grew strong enough to dominate Vytal, that is boggling. If the apocalypse does happen, it will be related to you, due to all these impossibilities accelerating entropy." Ar's paused. "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know you have my respect."

Jaune sank back in his chair. "Thanks. I just wanted to live up to my family legacy and childhood dream, that's my motivation."

"Thank you."

"What about you?"

"I was born in a test tube in a secret offshore super-soldier project, it didn't leave me with many other options in life after I lost control of my semblance and blew the facility up."

"Oh," Jaune let that sink in for a second. “That makes sense.” It wasn’t the strangest thing he had ever heard.

"You're taking this surprisingly well." Ar's raised a perfect eyebrow. "You should tell your reporter friend to stop looking into it, I'll talk to her about it, if you bring her to me."

Jaune wanted to go home. But, this was life now.

"Yeah, I'll do that. I don't have many options but to accept my life is insanity now." Jaune paused. "What about your team, do they know?"

Ar's laughed. "About that, they should, considering they're my clones."

Jaune stared at his senior. "You're what now?"

Ar's leaned in, flashing a far too-white of a smile. "My. Clones. They were made in test-tubes from my DNA and aura samples. Jaune, would you like to guess what my semblance is?"

"Being very pretty?" Jaune guessed half-sarcastically.

"Thank you, but not it." He held up a hand, palm up. Jaune stared at it, watching, as little black letters started to swirl around his palm, forming weird little runes and phrases as they came together. They swirled around and around, faster and faster, as more and more of the runes came together, the black runes emitting golden light. They moved over each other, forming a black ball of squiggling lines that made his head hurt just looking at them. Finally, they tightened together, and fell down into Ar's hand. 

It was a red rubber ball.

"Catch~," Then threw it at Jaune, while he was contemplating how existing something into existence was possible, it bouncing off his head.

"Ow," Jaune said out of annoyance more than pain. "That's impressive."

"Just impressive?" Ars made a wry smile, though was obviously somewhat disappointed. "Anyway, I call my semblance 'Runes of Creation'. I can see these letters, runes as some would call them, and If I assemble them right, I can make anything I want."

Jaune picked up the red rubber ball. It felt like a red rubber ball. It looked like a red rubber ball. He looked at it with his Soul-Sense, and it glowed like fading embers with black runes slowly drifting off of it on a unfelt wind. Had he not looked at it under his Soul-Sense, had he not seen it made before his very eyes, had he not looked at it right now, he would never know it had just been born into the world.

He looked again. Now, there was no trace at all that it was any different from any other red rubber ball he bought at the store. This was.

"Miraculous,"

Ars preened. "It ought to be, it cost 20 billion Lien to make."

"Ah!?" Jaune nearly dropped the ball, before juggling to catch it, like it was the most valuable red rubber ball in the world.

Ars laughed. "By extension, by extension, I mean."

Jaune threw the ball at Ar's with all the force he could muster, only for the older student to catch it, effortlessly.

"Ok, ok, that's how much the project cost, to eventually create me." He held up the ball. "I say, it was worth it. Me, at least, I like existing, and I like my siblings."

Jaune leaned forward. "Siblings?" He paused, rubbing his temple. “Oh, you mean the rest of your team.”

"Siblings? Clones? Does it matter? Giran, Dean, and Palk come from my DNA samples, so they're my parts of me. But, I prefer to call them my siblings, my adorable, stupid, little siblings."

Jaune leaned back, his eyes closing for a moment. "That's so messed up. But, I guess, It’s not like it makes you any less of a family. Siblings, though?” Jaune sighed warmly. “They’re a blessing, in a roundabout way, aren’t they?"

"Curse, blessing, from above or below, stuck with them and have the same bones.”

Raising his glass, Jaune nodded. “I’m the youngest, but it doesn’t make me love them any less,”

A white-gold eyebrow rose up. “Or miss them?”

“Not for much longer, I hope.”

“Well, that’s good.” The senior leaned back in his seat, a silence coming up across the table. 

“We're separating after the festival, my team that is.” Ar’s added softly. “Going to see the world by ourselves, we all feel strong enough to venture out on our own now. No need to band together for strength anymore.”

Jaune returned his full attention to his senior. “What? The four of you only have each other, right?”

“Yeah, that’s correct,” The weight of his gaze settled on Jaune. “Before you made it to Vale, though, how often did you dream of having days, or weeks, or months away from your family? Alone time, time to yourself? Did you wish for it often? … How about your sisters, or parents? Do you think that they ever just wanted some time to themselves?”

Jaune furrowed his brow, frowning. He looked down at the table, looking at his hands, the silverware, his drink, at the napkins, and couldn’t find an answer to that question. Because he already had one.

“I think …” He focused hard, trying to arrange the words in his mouth perfectly. “That, it’s a bitter-sweet need. I would have never got here without leaving home, and while I miss home… Everyone has to leave home eventually, even if they come back, it’s good for everyone to leave and figure out what it’s like to be by yourself, if you want that or not. You can’t live a full life under watch. Success or failure, it’s their right to be able to experience it.”

For the first time since he met Ar’s, the man’s composure seemed to slip, as the man’s above-it all attitude disappeared. He was openly frowning, his eyes not focused on Jaune anymore. Then it disappeared into an empty smile, and detached, if slightly sad, eyes. “I know. It’s not any less painful, though, no matter how much I’m preparing for it, no matter how much my team agrees with me, that we need time away from each other.”

“It’s not like you won’t call each other, you still have your scrolls.”

“That’s true, but,” He sighed. “Dean, Palk, Girin, they all have different preferences and interests, they're going to spread across Remnant chasing their interests, there's no guarantee they’ll ever pick their scrolls.”

Jaune snorted, smiling. “What makes you think that I answer every time my sisters call? I hang up, if they catch me in a bad mood, or if I just don’t feel like talking, that’s the choice you have. Because, when you’re not living at home with someone, even with family, it’s not an obligation at that point, it's a choice. It’s your choice to keep your bond with someone strong, or not, it’s not your fault if they don’t want to interact, it’s theirs, it’s their choice.”

The senior stared at him for a long moment stony-faced and cold-eyed, Jaune even felt a subtle threatening intent from him, as his senior raised his hands up. Then covered his mouth, as the mask slipped off, laughing. “By the gods, I’ve been so conceited.” Laughing hard. “I've never felt more relieved in my life.” A hard sigh left his mouth, as he wiped his eyes. “Thank you, thank you very much, Jaune. This is a conversation I’ve been needing for a long time.”

Jaune leaned back. “It’s nothing,” He looked away. “Anyone could help you.”

“No, not anyone.” Ars looked around, eyes stopping somewhere for a moment, Jaune followed his gaze, it was just a group of suited men, which instantly set him on edge. “I guess, dinner’s about over now. Anyway, I’m going to be candid with you.” Ar’s focused his attention on him, any alarms that were going off before, were now silenced under the overwhelming force before him. “This is Team Adepts final appearance as a formal team, and I intend for it to be a memory we all treasure for a life-time, so, at the final match, I’m going to give it my all.” Red eyes swallowed the world around them. “I’m going to apologize in advance though, hell awaits you, success or failure.”

It took everything Jaune had to continue meeting his gaze, and then some, to form his next sentence. “Wh-What do you mean?”

“If you beat me, you are without contest the strongest of not just your generation, but mine as well, you will have the world's full attention on you. If you don’t beat me, you’ll still be uncontested as the strongest in Beacon, and likely all the academys, so you’ll still have the Remnants full attention, not just Vale’s, and some of Vacuo’s from what I heard.”

Jaune nodded, calmly breaking eye-contact with Ar’s, then let loose a stream of curse that would curdle milk, give the elderly a heart-attack, and made the Spiders watching them blush.

 Then their dinner arrived, the waitress blushing as she refused to make eye-contact with Jaune while setting their meals across the table. Jaune held his hands in head, then pushed a fifty lien chip her way, which she quickly snatched with a smile and left. Ar’s stared at Jaune, despite the savory meal beneath him.

“For such a kind-looking boy, you sure know how to make a sailor look noble by comparison.”

“Shut up. I was planning on disappearing out of the public eye after this, I do not want this anymore.” He looked at his meal. “The fame, not the meal, the meal looks delicious.”

 “Really? From your match earlier, you seemed to soak it up, I mean why else where the gaudy suit?”

“That was a business move, nothing more!”

Ar’s smiled. “You’ll be getting plenty more of that, soon enough, I imagine that there will be lines miles long to sponsor you, to say nothing more of your own business.”

Jaune aggressively cut into his meal. “I will have nothing to do with them, I only sponsor my own businesses, I have better things to do with my time than play celebrity.”

“Too late. Anyway, most, if not all, big-name hunters have at-least one brand that sponsors them. Qrow Branwen has several skate-board models named after him, along with other sports equipment,” He pulled up a picture of a man in a burgundy cape.

“Who’s that?” 

“Qrow Branwen, you’ve probably seen him before.”

Jaune wracked his brain for a minute. “Oh, I guess, I have.” He thought he saw someone like that when they entered the building, but it was probably just some dude.

“He has that effect on people, you could meet him and never connect the dots, unless someone informed you.” He pulled up some more photos. “Miss Goodwitch has her own autobiography for sale, a book on teaching, and even her own makeup line. Peter Port has,” Ar’s frowned like he ate something foul. “Male ‘vitality’ supplements, a podcast for men’s health, a biography, his own brand of outdoor equipment, and other such things, but considering he’s pushing who knows how old in our profession with no outstanding semblance, he must know something.” Jaune nodded, internally repressing the ‘vitality’ supplements and their implications, he was also repressing the vision he had of Peter Port in the Grimm’s stomach, he was not ready to find out if that was real or not. “Dr. Oobleck-”

“Dr. Oobleck,” Jaune paused, realizing that Ar’s hadn’t gotten it wrong. “Sorry.” 

“No harm. I’ve learned his title. Anyway, Dr. Oobleck has several books on archaeology and anthropology, has several grants from the government, and a couple documentaries on the relationship between aura-awakened individuals and how they shaped history up until the Great War.”

Jaune took a bite of his chicken parmesan, digesting his thoughts and dinner. “I see your point, but I still don’t need a sponsor, I have enough money to live comfortably off the interest alone.”

“Fine, regardless, I hope you have a good manager, as otherwise you’re going to be swamped with offers. Not all hunters are so lucky, and the sponsors help cut down on equipment costs, and give them more options than just hunting to stay afloat.”

Jaune traced circles in the air with his fork. “I see your point,”

“Aren’t you curious what sponsorships I might have?”

“You can create things, you’re probably more well off then I am.”

Ars just smiled. “Perhaps.” He looked down at the empty plates. “I suppose this is where we draw close, for now.”

“I guess… This went better than I thought it would… If you need someone to talk to, I don’t mind it.”

Ars held out his scroll, and Jaune held his. “I”d appreciate it. I don’t know many people outside of my siblings, much less, who also know the pains of brotherhood.”

“Agreed.”

Ar Kaus then paid for the meal, the two left the building, ready to go back to Haven Academy, then head their separate ways until it was time for their fight that would decide the greatest of a generation.

Or they would have. As they walking to a Bullhead station, three things happened in rapid succession, with either student barely having a moment to react.

As the two of them climbed up a bare mountain to where an empty bullhead lot was, a pin prick of light appeared above them, far up in the sky, the air started to shimmer.

Several miles above Haven, was a defense system known as the Centaurus composed of several dozen satellites, 48 to be specific, made after the Great War, in theory to protect against ancient class Grimm. Individually they were quite weak, relatively speaking, but overtime, thanks to their solar dust batteries, they could accumulate enormous amounts of energy, which could be focused into a laser, and combined with any number of the Centaurus Defense System satellites to magnify its power several times over.

Though they were made and launched by Haven, they were sponsored by prominent families of Haven and their affiliates. The Kagetora sponsors satellites, four in total, rotated, and focused on a barehead mountain with two students.

At the bottom of the mountain, the group of spiders that had followed them from the restaurant sent a signal to the bullheads canceling any request to receive passengers. Behind them, arriving on the scene, a small army of black-clad individuals exited a series of unmarked vans, each armed to the teeth.

In the air around the mountain, despite bullhead orders being canceled, and almost completely unrelated to the previous two, was a series of shimmering aircrafts, near invisible to the naked eye, and almost unmonitored by Haven’s air-systems.

Then the pinprick of light plummeted out of the sky, it superheating the air all the way down, a column of blinding white light vaporizing any life-forms unlucky enough to be in it’s path, crashing down on the Vytal hopefuls, in a mortal-made apocalypse of life-ending light.

It shook the mountain. Completely erasing the bullhead field down to the bedrock, melting a hole down hundreds of feet into the rock, sending noxious fumes into the air, rock shrapnels thousands of feet away at the speed of bullets, and sound unlike any other heard by the residents of Haven, loud and sharp, echoing for miles.

The Spiders stormed the mountains, while the spy aircrafts drifted down, each eager to claim some sort of proof, whether it was a piece of the boy's body, like a bone fragment, or just verification of death.

----

Lil’ Miss Malachite looked at the sight in fury.

“Kagetora,” She said the name like a curse. The damn meathead had ruined everything! She almost had them both captured! What was he thinking?! Why hire her services, only to not use them!?

She touched her temple, sending a message to her associates, black listing Kagetora Jin to the Spiders. She’d enjoy watching him beg for forgiveness.

Her other client, the one wanting Ar Kaus, was sending her messages now. She’d have to find someway to appease them, though, neither of them could have predicted-

The smoke cleared at the top of the mountain. Ms. Malachite, restarted her software, blinked her eyes, yet the image remained. In the crater of the former mountain peak, where the two contestants, not a hair out of place.

The younger of the two was channeling aura into the older, a look of confusion on his face, but not directed to destruction, but at sight of him channeling aura into the older boy. Who had his hands raised to the sky, directing some sort of energy field above the, eyes narrowed at the sky.

She couldn’t believe her luck. “Continue the assault,” She sent the order to her spiders. 

-----

Jaune dropped his hands, feeling for the first time in a long time, drained of aura, though it was coming back fast. Ar Kaus, by comparison was glowing in the night air, staring at the sky with a face locked into pure anger.

Then lifted his hands up, staring at how fast the runes summoned to his hands then to Jaune. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

“Yeah, I am,” Jaune shrugged, popping his shoulders, aura almost full again. “Didn’t know I could do that, but I guess it’s not-”

“Jaune, you just effectively doubled my aura.”

Jaune snapped his attention to Ar Kaus. “What? But, your aura is about the same size as mine.”

“I know, whatever you did just now, vastly increased the power of my aura.” He waved a hand, a snowman appeared, followed by a statue made of gold, and a cloud of red gas. “That’s not something that happens from mere aura donation.”

Jaune simply nodded. “Yeah, I guess it’s not.” 

The top of the mountain shifted, all around the crater lip Spiders surrounded them, arms focused on them. “Surrender!”

Ar Kaus patted Jaune on the shoulder. “I got this,” 

Black lettering surrounded them both, as they rose high into the air above the mountain. Waving a hand, that strange disc Ar Kaus used as a weapon appeared. It levitated in front of him, Jaune noticing for the first time, that there was dust crystal of every type in its back, and it followed Ar Kaus every move, as he pointed in three separate directions. Above, beside, and below.

Each point had a collection of black letters that spun out of control, unraveling like cloth being unspun. “My semblance, has an evolution, the one that allow me to breakout of the grimmpit I was born into, beside uses the Rune as a form of creations, I can invert the process.” He paused, pointing at the dust crystals. “If I ever have to use it, I make sure to channel it into something.” He picked three crystals, Yellow, Red, and Purple.

What had been called a mortal made apocalypse before, was nothing but a dimly lit candle compared to the bonfire of power that was just born. 

As a sphere of tri-color energy appeared before them, spinning in place before them, spinning faster and faster, until the colors separated flying out in each previously pointed to directions, Above, Beside, and Below. The Yellow, Red, and Purple power separated, then separated again into spears of elemental power, flying off at speeds that Jaune struggled to understand. The Yellow spears flew upwards as though the heavens themselves were about to receive judgment, there was a bright explosion that encompassed the nights sky. The Red Spears shot beside them, launching into the stealthed aircrafts, punching through them, vaporizing and exploding them like fireworks. While below them, the Spiders beheld the Purple spears, as condensed gravity fell upon them, spears caving and dragging what they hit below deep into the earth, never to be seen again, as the rest of the mountain collapsed in on itself.

----

Lil’ Miss Malachite stared in disbelief for what felt like hours. She tried to locate any of her Spiders, yet not one of them responded. No vital signs or anything. They were dead as the stones that were burying them.

Kagetora Jin sat dazed in his chair, he had been blacklisted by the Spider, and lost his family's billions in one night.

Project Neo-Genesis had merely recorded what data they could, filing it away for later. They would reclaim their property sooner or later. Though, they made note of a new specimen, who’s dna would be most interesting to use.

---

Jaune laid on his bed, thinking about today.

Something finally came together in his head, as he lifted his hand above his eyes, staring at his yellow-white aura, separating the two colors. Knowing what one and other meant, aura was the manifestation of his soul, so the yellow was the larger of the two colors, feeding into the white, which then fed back into the yellow reinforcing it. Jaune hadn’t taken a good look at his aura in a while, but he noticed that the white in his aura had grown larger, further reinforcing it.

Taking that together with his ability to manipulate aura into shapes, his ability to experience aura with all his senses, his rapid recovery, and now, his ability to donate it? Jaune would have to be stupid not to put it together.

His semblance let him amplify aura, his, or others. Anything aura related, he could just do it better. As he came to a startling conclusion. He was as much of a monster in terms of power as Ar Kaus, and no matter what he did, he’d always be in the center stage for the rest of his life. People would never stop poking a bear, no matter how bad an idea it was.

He pulled out his scroll. “Mr. Arc?”

“Ms. Goodwitch, do you have time for a training session? I had a breakthrough today about my semblance.”

“Truly now? Well, then meet me at the training hall.”

[bojackhorsemanobviously]

A Boy and His Horse

@ccartman

Bojack had found himself in plenty of shitty situations before but this one really took the shit cake of all shit cakes, for once he had done nothing wrong . at least he thought so..

He grunted as the van hit a bump on the road feeling very claustrophobic in the small cramp trunk that was not meant for anyone past 4ft.. yet somehow they managed to shove him inside. despite his protests that it would never work , but there he was stuck in a very tight place feeling really claustrophobic.

you drunk idiot how could you let this happen? yeah I let this happen this is definitely my fault not my kidnappers. you're the one that borrowed money from em for a night of ecasty what it worth it? I dunno......

probably .

Maybe he had taken money from these shady characters but that was a long time ago how was he supposed to remember everyone he made deals with ? everyone he pissed off? There was a list a very long list dating to probably 100s of faces his drunken brain barely remember so when strange men appeared on his doorstep's guns ablazing his drunk brain barely remembered anything especially when they kept shouting for the money.. Calling them a bunch of ugly shitheads who should go crawling back to their mothers basement and threatening to call the police had not been his smartest means of defense, the hateful eyes coming from behind the slits of the masks made his blood run cold and he realized he hadmade a terrible mistake.

. you idiot.. why couldn't your keep your fat mouth shut? I was drunk You're always drunk. its fine, its fine i'm sure they just want a ransom for a high profile celebrity I'll be back filming philbert by monday. you know if you died right now no one would miss you.. . how is it possible for you to be bigger asshole than my kidnappers? I AM YOU ASSHOLE.

Bojacks heart sunk at that thought wondering if it was true, would his friends miss him? He was sure they would, especially diane even if things had been rocky lately. he still wasn't sure why she had been so distant lately, but he still had hollyhock, pc, gina even that mr. peanutbutter. who while annoying had shown to be dependable

and. they couldn't film the show without their star. Sure they can they'll just use CGI like with that movie that didn't win you an oscar.

Bojack groaned turning out the voice in his head ears pounding from the all the booze he had earlier well , the constant bonks on the head from being stuck in a very tiny trunk had him wishing for his pain killers.. that were in his pockets just out of reach.. disoriented he heard murmurs from the front didn't fill him with much hope of getting out alive either.. something about being sold to a burger king in the UK what??? that didn't sound good.

you'd make a shitty burger. I am not talking to you. you're talking to me right now dumbass. you know what I hope they kill me so i never hear your shitty voice He flinched hearing a loud gunshot ring out, oh dear god no! No! didn't mean it no fuck.. fuck.. shit NO! .! His heart started pounding loudly in his chest as he figured that his time was coming to a crawl, he tried to squirm free of the ropes but the knots were too tight and he was finding it harder to breathe figuring this was the end But he was a large animal so he started kicking the trunk hoping to break it open when it just popped open.. leaving the older disgruntled horse staring wide eyed at...

... a child.... he wasn't sure what to make of that at all, panting heavily through the gag he just stared wide-eyed at him, hoping he let him go.. the bloodstains on his shirts made him feel.. a bit less hopeful.. but it was just a kid..

@ccartman

[storiesofsvu]

Well… that was… *something*

Law & order premier event thoughts…

Okay, here we go!

(Fuck i just realized i never did a “what i hope/wish to see this season! I’ll do it after)

oh. Okay. We’re diving *right* into things with Ukraine? 😳 jfc

Cosgrove(?)’s daughter & all this talk about gunshots is terribly foreboding

SNIPED BY DADDY BENSON JEEESUS

I just do not like Cosgrove….

Oh GOD & NOW he’s fighting with Stabler?! We couldnt have gotten through this ep without a “whos dick is bigger” contest, could we? 🙄🙄 like i was *just* gonna say how frank’s acting like stabler & then stabler shows up… ugh. Bring daddy benson back pls

Ayannaaaaaaa lookin like a SNACK as per usual!😍

This “crossover” really is more like a 3hr movie. First 30mins moved pretty slow like the OG l&o vibes… now we’re into the OC feels. Where are my svu babies? Bring them in pls.

I cant decide whether this CI is a complete idiot or a genius.

Why are we being forced to deal with so many low neck, chest exposed outfits for stabler 🥴

Oh so we’re putting Amanda in oversized blazers this year?

Watching them do raids on l&o after watching so much Chicago pd is just pathetic. Like, they’d lose so many cops with how bad it is.

I’m sorry. But if i was going to raid a house of a very dangerous criminal… i’d put my hair up to make sure i could SEE what i was doing…

Loving this style update for Jet😍

Did ANYONE think the CI was gonna make it through the ep?? Like cmon that was obvious

There was 3:44min left on the timer & that was WAY less than that….

Are velasco & fin just like, kickin it back at the precinct watching tv or something rn?!

Yessssssss Sam is here now! 😍😍

But also hate the other ada

Wait… this perp (in pt3) has DEFINITELY been on svu before… he sold liv & elliot a baby… right?!

Sir… you are sitting like a lesbian…

WOW we just jumped two months!!

Where TF is carisi??

AMANDA ROLLINS IS ANTI TAYLOR SWIFT??!! I *NEVER* WOULD HAVE THOUGHT! Like she would be the number 1 swiftie…

FUCK.

Okay like i KNEW something like this was probable because dw wanted her killed off BUT COULD WE GET THROUGH A SEASON OPENER WITH**OUT** SOMEONE IMPORTANT GETTING SHOT??!!

Carisi’s gonna show up now, right??

UGGGHH PEEEETTEERR YOUR ACTING!!??? GOOD GOD. JUST SO SCARED & worried & 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭

Wtf is this jacket olivia has on? I cant tell whether its leather or denim or leather posing as denim??!

Liv did what was right. Putting nicole out of harms way was way better than making her testify when she’s already almost been killed multiple times.

Oh fuck you mccoy

How is NO ONE from the da’s office even TALKING about/worried about rollins?!

THANK YOU SAM!!! I KNEW I LIKED YOU BETTER THAN ANYONE ON THIS DAMN SHOW (also she’s looked *bomb* in every outfit so far..)

I feel like we might be starting to learn more about Sam’s history/childhood thanks to this ep? Or like, this might be hinting at some future character arc?

UCK. I literally just said “at least elliot’s gone” and WOW he feels the need to come back…

There are TEN mins left & we still havent gotten an update on amanda??!! Come ON

Yo, dick wolf, tell me you hate amanda rollins without telling me you hate amanda rollins 😒😒😒

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?! The crap scenes we GOT instead of:

a panicked emotional carisi at the hospital, a sympathetic & just as worried liv who’s trying to hide it to be the bigger supporter, a worried fin who’s watched her take a bullet already!! The REUNION & relief when they’re told she’s out of surgery & going to be totally fine. The CONVERSATION between amanda & sonny, the heartfelt confessions of how scared they were to lose each other, how carisi was internally freaking out about the girls and legally who would take care of them if amanda died, and how it should be him over anyone from her family. How the only thing aside from the girls amanda could think of was that she wished she had told sonny she wanted to be with him forever, be the dad to her girls, how life is short & they’d wasted enough time already. Followed by an untraditional proposal, one that neither of them expected & sonny doesnt even have the ring, but they agree to marriage anyways. FOLLOWED by liv, fin, velasco, jessie & billie coming into the room in a big happy found family wrap up…

Brb… just wrote a one shot that was better than the wrap of this damn episode.

Ugh 🙄🙄🙄

@bookpillows here ya go

[autumnsart22]

Kidnapped: Feitan x fem reader💀

Little angsty fic for my torture gremlin 🤪 

Tags: Brief description of torture, mentions of sex and violence, almost rape scene (not with Fei)

You didn’t think you had ever hated anyone more than Feitan Portor. He was cruel, arrogant, and selfish, taking every opportunity to humiliate you and get on your nerves. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what to do to piss you off, and there had been more than one occasion when your arguing had gotten you two in very tight spots during missions. 

It didn’t always used to be that way. When you had first joined the Phantom Troupe, you had actually been pretty good friends with him, closer than most of the other Troupe members. But over time he had become cold and cruel, turning his back on you and becoming your tormentor instead. 

Which was why you were pissed off at Chrollo for pairing you up with Feitan for the next mission, but the Troupe leader insisted that you worked well together when you weren’t constantly arguing...which was rare. And unfortunately, this was going to be a big heist. 

Tonight you would be infiltrating the underground auction in Yorknew city to steal all the goods up for auction. It was a large job, especially facing off against all the mafia bosses, and you had to look the part in order to blend in. You were done up in a pretty red dress, your hair swept up to reveal crystal earrings and your lightly done makeup. Honestly, you were kind of feeling yourself, which was unusual because you didn’t usually care about how you looked. 

Feitan walked silently beside you as you made your way from the Troupe’s hideout in the direction of where you would be entering the auction. He was dressed up as well, wearing a black tuxedo and missing the usual bandana over his face, which you knew made him uncomfortable being so exposed. You might have tried to be nice if he’d not given you a once over when he saw you, a sneer pulling up his face as he scoffed. So instead of politely ignoring him, you grinned coldly and said, “You look like shit.” 

“You look like whore.” 

Your hands curled into fists, but you managed to not punch him. You did look slightly whory, but that was the point. You wanted to tempt all the big business men into spilling their riches into your waiting palms, even if it meant flashing a bit of bare leg and cleavage. The little gremlin didn’t have to point it out though. 

It was easy getting inside the auction, and soon you and Feitan were mingling with the guests as you waited for the event to begin. Feitan scanned the room with narrowed eyes, searching for our main target among the many rich mafia bosses throughout the area: Teika Rubin. 

As the son of one of the largest syndicate bosses in Yorknew city, Teika was set to inherit almost 20 million Jenny once he took over the business. He was at the auction in place of his father, and he currently held a diamond worth at least 5 million Jenny--more if you sold it right--in order to sell to a private buyer. It was your job to get him alone so that you could steal it. 

“He there,” Feitan murmured, his hair brushing your ear as he gestured towards the back of the room. He was right; at the center of an excessive number of bodyguards was Teika himself. 

He was young, maybe around twenty four, but you could tell by his eyes that his age didn’t mean inexperienced. You honestly had expected a pampered rich boy, but this was different. Cruel, smug, and powerful. And, if the way his eyes scanned the room with careful observation skills was any tell, smart. Not a good combination. Your mission may have been a bit harder than you expected, but there was no way you were going to tell Feitan that. 

“I’ll get him alone, but make sure you follow us.” 

You didn’t wait for a response as you slid away into the crowd. 

It ended up going exactly as you wanted. You spilled a drink on yourself and one of his guards, and like the charming person he was, Teika offered you a change of clothes. It only took a few sultry looks and suggestive words before he had you pinned up against the wall of one of the private rooms, shoving your dress up as he checked the clock. 

“I think I have enough time,” he said, smiling slightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you well for this.” 

What had Feitan called you? A whore? You pushed that thought violently from your head as Teika started to kiss down your neck. 

You shuddered, clenching your teeth as he slid his hands along your thighs, your dress riding up almost to your hips. You were willing to do whatever it took to succeed in this mission and not let the rest of the Troupe down, but it was hard to force down your disgust and fear. 

Even if you wanted to escape, you weren’t sure you’d be able to. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and your Nen wasn’t exactly a combat tool. You were able to see the near future of yourself and people you loved if they were in life threatening danger, but although the power had gotten you out of many tight spots, it had holes. For example, if your opponent was just aiming to injure rather than kill, then you were completely in the dark. 

Plus, Teika was powerful. You didn’t know what his Nen power was exactly, but Chrollo had confirmed that he could be considered around the same level as a Phantom Troupe member in terms of combat ability. 

Please, Feitan, hurry.

The syndicate heir held your throat tightly as he went to tug your dress from your shoulders, and a small whimper of panic escaped your throat. 

And then Teika was being thrown across the room, slamming into the wall as you slid to the floor, gasping for air. Feitan stood over you, his eyes blank as he surveyed your rumbled hair and the way your dress had ridden up. 

“Let’s go,” he snapped, and you straightened your shoulders, snatching the knife he tossed you out of the air. 

Teika was quick to give up the jewel in his possession when he realized that all of his guards were dead, but he didn’t seem very upset about it. In fact, the manic look in his eye was almost gleeful as he watched you exit the room with Feitan. 

“Phantom Troupe,” you heard him mutter as the door clicked shut, and you set about locking him in there. 

“Why don’t we just kill him?” You asked, but Feitan didn’t even look at you. 

“Take too long,” he finally grunted. 

It was true. You could already hear the sound of gunshots coming from the main auction hall where Shizuku and Franklin were taking care of the rest of the mafia bosses, and soon the entire place would be swarmed with law enforcement and other mafia members. A fight between Feitan and Teika would be so destructive and long that it would cause more harm than good. 

“Thanks for coming in time,” you said as you walked side by side towards the back of the building where you were going to meet the other Troupe members.

Feitan snorted. “Seemed like fun.” 

Your mouth fell open, and you gaped at him. “I was just doing my part.”

“All you good for anyway,” he muttered, and you froze. 

“What?” 

Feitan crossed his arms, turning to you. “You useless.” 

“Y-you-” You were struggling to speak. You were used to petty insults, but this was different. He was dead serious. So you said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re just jealous.” 

Instantly, Feitan’s eyes flashed and turned lethal. “Jealous? Of what? You nothing but a burden to the Troupe with your arrogance and annoying personality. You weak, and the only thing you can do is…” His eyes trailed significantly down your short dress. 

You thought such things on the daily, but hearing them from him in particular made it worse. Tears filled your eyes unprompted, but you weren’t going to cry. Instead, you straightened your shoulders and turned your back on him, walking away without another word. You weren’t sure you could forgive him this time. 

------

3 hours later: 

“Where Y/n?” Phinks glared at Feitan as he met him outside of the auction hall, but Feitan only shrugged. “Is she ok?” He pushed, and the short Troupe member flipped him off. 

“She left.” He finally said. 

Feitan hadn’t been able to get your hurt expression out of his head, the tears shimmering in your eyes. He had never seen you cry before, or at least not because of him. He had gone too far. 

He had just been so enraged, seeing you pushed up against the wall by someone who wasn’t him. And then you had let out the sexiest sound he had ever heard, as if you were enjoying yourself, and he had lost it. He hadn’t meant to take it out on you--he never did. But that’s always what seemed to happen. 

“What did you do?” Phinks said in annoyance. Phinks and Shalnark had been trying to get Feitan to confess to liking you for years, and had eventually resorted to getting him blackout drunk. Shalnark had pretended to boast about seducing you, and Feitan had gone nuts. That was all the confirmation they needed. 

Since then, they had both tried to get him to confess to you, or at least not act like he hated you. But the issue was, Feitan wasn’t going to be weak over some girl. He wouldn’t allow you to take priority over the other good things in life, like torture, murder, and stealing. Caring about someone meant putting yourself at risk for them, and Feitan wasn’t willing to make that sacrifice, not even for you. 

But damn, that dress. He had had to talk himself out of dragging you back inside and forcing you to change, so that no other person except for him would ever get to see you in it. Perhaps his feelings were purely physical; that would be perfectly normal. But it didn’t explain why he wanted to be with you all the time, or why he enjoyed how red your face got when you were pissed at him, or why he loved watching you get all animated while telling a story, even as he pretended not to listen. 

But this time he could tell that he had gone too far, and you weren’t going to forgive him easily. Shit. He hated the idea of apologizing, but he hated the idea of you ignoring him even more. Maybe this one time he would put his pride aside…

Feitan began to walk a little faster as they approached the Troupe’s hideout, but he froze as they entered the abandoned building. 

There was blood everywhere. It covered the floors and was splattered along the walls, as if a major fight had gone down. In the center of the gore was a black screen. 

Machi emerged from behind some of the rubble, her eyes dark as she approached. “I just got back, but it looks like this was the work of one of the syndicates. I don’t know how they found our hideout though, or why they’d come when it was empty.”

“Where’s Y/n.” Feitan’s voice was soft, fury dripping from every word. Maybe she hadn’t come back to the hideout. Maybe she would be walking through the doors soon with Chrollo, and Feitan could apologize. 

As if in response to his question, the black screen flickered, and footage of a grey, concrete room appeared. In front of the camera was a familiar young man, and Feitan’s mind went blank. 

“I’m assuming that you’ve returned to your base by now,” Teika Rubin grinned, adjusting the camera. “I hope so, because this is live footage and you’ll miss the show!” 

The rest of the Troupe members had gathered around the screen at the center of the room, silently assessing as Teika stepped back...to reveal you.

You were tied to a chair and blindfolded, but you wrenched violently on the bonds holding you. “You disgusting shithead,” you snarled, and Teika backhanded you across the face. 

Feitan couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. 

Teika continued lightly, “As you can see, I have your lovely member here with me, and we’re going to be spending some quality time together. If you want her back, you will return my money.” 

“How did they get her?” Nobunaga growled, fists clenching. 

“They must have some sort of tracking Nen user. Or--”

“Does it matter?” Feitan interrupted. “We go--” 

He froze as he watched Teika pick up a knife and drench it in a familiar amber liquid. It was an extremely rare mix that Feitan had used on a number of occasions with tricky patients, and it always got them talking almost instantly. The pain from a single drop was almost enough to knock someone unconscious. Feitan had tried a bit on himself once out of curiosity, and even he had been surprised at how awful the experience was. 

Teika was smiling sadistically as he lifted your arm, pressing the knife against the skin of your wrist and sliding upward. Your scream was almost enough to make Feitan throw up as he watched you jerking against the hold of the chair. 

The short Troupe member had fantasized about hurting you a number of times, especially after Machi had accidentally let it slip about your masochist preferences. He had barely been able to keep his hand out of his pants for weeks after that, getting turned on every time he saw you. The number of times he had stood in front of your door in the middle of the night, wondering if he should just give in and fuck you, was almost ridiculous. But tying you to the bed, choking you until you cried, or whipping you until you were cumming everywhere was different from this. 

Feitan was literally shaking with fury, and he didn’t say a single word as he strode away, your screams still echoing behind him. 

“Where are you going?” Shalnark asked, but Feitan didn’t turn. 

“I get her back. Kill them.” 

No one stopped him. 

It didn’t take him long to track down where you were being kept. Chrollo had been keeping track of all the main syndicate bases, so it was just a matter of narrowing down which one the doomed heir would be using. The entire search took less than an hour, and then Feitan was headed down the hall, killing everyone in sight as he looked for you in the rooms. 

Teika was still talking to the camera when Feitan slammed into him--clearly he hadn’t expected to be found so easily. You were slumped in your chair, unconscious, and your arm was a bloody mess. 

Feitan was so angry that his Nen came almost instantly. “Pain packer,” he hissed, wrapping himself and you in powerful armour to protect against his attack. “Rising sun.”

The room erupted. 

-----

You woke as Feitan carried you through the molten hell that used to be the syndicate compound. All around you, you could hear the screams as people burned to death, but all you felt was a nice pleasant heat. 

“Fei?” You murmured, and you felt his arms tighten around you. 

“Here.” 

“I’m surprised you came,” you managed. 

“Tch.” He paused, and then he muttered, “I always come for you.” 

It wasn’t an apology, but you knew this was as close to one as he could handle. You relaxed against his chest. “Ok.” 

You closed your eyes, but you heard him from above you as he said, “Don’t walk away again.” 

It may have sounded blank and cold as always, but you could see the panic in his eyes at seeing you wounded. And by the heat of the sun around us, he had been utterly enraged that you’d been kidnapped. 

Perhaps you could forgive him after all. 

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can I request a Viv Tang fic or hc?

It's angst, where The Poppy leaves MC to take the blame on one of their heists, promising that they would break her out, but never did. Yet despite that she never sold them out.

Then Nadia was the one who broke her out, manipulating her and plotting lies in her head to make her join Flashpoint.

The Poppy did do their everything to break MC out but everytime Nadia intercepts them. So when they finally tracked down where MC and Nadia is, on the location of their latest operation, they tried to reason to her. But MC's loyalty was too deep for Nadia maybe because Nadia also made MC think that she loves her or something.

And maybe the last words could be:

"Next time I won't hesitate to tell them to pull the trigger, maybe I'll be the one to pull the trigger myself."

Make it as angsty as possible please and thank you in advance!

Warning: Mentions of murder.

...

Prison life was hell. Try as she might, MC couldn’t endure it as well as she thought she could. There was an enemy in every shadow, in every corner. There was no one to lean against, no support.

The days dragged on and on, virtually endless, no help in sight.

MC remembered the warmth of the Poppy, their joyous celebrations, the life in their eyes as they planned a heist that would ultimately unveil in failure. No one had known then that it would go wrong, and MC couldn’t help but wonder if they would have cared. If they would have changed anything in the plan.

There wasn’t a moment in this damn place where people didn’t shove it in her face—no doubt it was on purpose, why the heck would they want to drag a failure like you around? —and scoffed at her when they saw her, not believing for a second that this scared little kid could belong to such a famous group.

Two weeks in, MC had abandoned any hope that she would be rescued. She was stuck for fifteen years in this place. Investigators would come in periodically, their eyes stone cold as they probed her for answers, but MC kept her mouth shut and looked away. They would get physical sometimes, intent on getting answers, but MC say nothing.

The memory of a place she truly belonged in was still fresh in her mind. She had always been an emotional person… it was no surprise she had no desire to sell them out. At least not yet. Give her a couple of months, and maybe she’d be bitter enough to do it.

Three weeks in, a blast had knocked the whole prison into chaos. The sheer relief that flooded her was only slightly evaporated by the spark of anger and indignation in her chest, but she still hurried out, thirsty for freedom.

She expected to see Vivienne’s impish smirk, hand extended in her direction, no remorse in her eyes, but was surprised by golden hair and a tight, crisp suit that had once been white, now marred by dirt and smoke and blood.

“Oh good, I was wondering how much target practice I would have before you showed up,” the woman said, her grin as sharp as a knife’s edge even though she was standing so casually, as if they weren’t standing at the edge of a broken prison wall but in a café.

MC froze, caught off guard. Someone—another inmate—ran behind her, intent on reaching freedom, and the woman whipped a gun in his direction so fast he didn’t even have time to react. His body joined the pile of bodies by the side, momentum making it flop like a sad, broken doll. The woman hums to herself as she reloads the gun.

“Hurry up, MC, I don’t have all day.”

“Wha—? But you just shot—”

She shrugs, nonchalant. “Yeah, well, since they are no use to me… I might as well practice my aim, no?”

“…I—”

“Hurry up and come here, MC,” the woman says, impatience making her voice firmer and deadlier. Her arm snaps up, the sound of a gunshot making the air vibrate, and MC covers her ears and flinches. Someone lets out a pained gurgle and the thump right behind her makes MC shiver. A swift glance reveals it’s a guard. “The cavalry has arrived—next shot is at your feet if you don’t move. Right. Now.”

MC has never run so fast in her entire life. The woman’s grin returns, pleased, and after one last shot, she guides MC out into a waiting helicopter. They are out of the prison without much trouble. Still a bit anxious, MC takes one of the seats, stiffly. In contrast, the woman lets herself drop in the seat in front of her and all but beams at her.

“Sorry about that—I like to make things dramatic. Name’s Nadia.”

“That was… a tad more dramatic than I would have liked…”

“You’ll get used to it in no time,” she replies, waving her hand as if it’s no big deal. She smirks and lets the gun drop on MC’s lap, who goes very still, staring at the device in horror. “Safety’s on, chill. I’d never do anything to you, MC.”

“You literally threatened me like three seconds ago.”

“Because we were going to get caught otherwise! I wouldn’t have acted on it, promise.”

MC chances a look at her eyes—there’s a dangerous amusement dancing in them, like the light blue of a river that doesn’t seem to have a very strong current until you are swept off into a certain death. There are no second chances with this woman, no false appearances. MC doesn’t realize how reliving this raw honesty is until it washes over her, and she wonders if right now she’s at the edge of the river. One wrong move…

“Thank you for getting me out of there.”

“No big deal. I heard what happened with the Poppy—figures they aren’t as noble as they make everyone believe.”

Those words cut into MC like a frosty knife.

“I… I thought they sent you to break me out…”

Nadia scoffs. “Me, working with stuck-ups like them? Now that’s a good laugh.”

“Why did you bail me out, then?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She leans forward. “The Poppy threw away some very valuable talent. As any proper thief would do, I claimed it for myself.”

“…threw away, huh?”

“They were quite satisfied with themselves, too. Imagine the fit they’ll have when they know you’re with Flashpoint now.”

It’s hard to believe her words. The image of a joyous Poppy is still fresh in MC’s mind, but Nadia’s words tint it a dull reddish-brown, just like a faded photograph. She thinks about Vivienne’s words, about her promise to break her out, and frowns.

“You speak as though I’ve already joined your little group.”

“There’s no other option, MC. I’m not letting a talent like you slip away… plus, don’t you want to get back at them? Show them what a horrible mistake they did?”

“…”

“Or just let them seethe silently in rage, sure. Can’t say I love your approach, but eh.”

Her fingers curl around the grip of the gun. “What happens if I don’t want to work for you?”

Nadia looks at her with keen interest, still with a lazy smirk. “Then you’d be volunteering for target practice.”

“I thought you say you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I don’t hurt my coworkers, no, but if you cross me—whoever you are—then you seal your fate.”

MC hums, looking at the firearm in her lap, moving her thumb over the safety. After a small pause, in which she glances over at the pilot, she moves her hand away.

“Fine. I’ll join.”

“Great!”

Flashpoint, true to its name, prefers more flashy heists.

MC wasn’t too comfortable with their modus operandi at first, but got used to it soon enough.

Nadia was a strict leader. Every conversation with her was intense and dangerous, especially when she was in a bad mood, but she was thorough.

She didn’t mince her words. She was as honest as could be, and after months caught in Vivienne’s game, Nadia was a breath of fresh air. MC couldn’t be really blamed for falling in love with her, right? In the end, Nadia was the only one willing to support her.

That’s why it had been such a surprise when, in the middle of their latest heist, the Poppy had intervened.

They had been as organized as always—Flashpoint was completely caught off guard, the communication lost. MC could deal with not knowing what happened to the rest, so long as she had Nadia with her.

Nadia had been strangely amused when the Poppy crashed their heist, not worried at all, gripping her knife without a care in the world. That was reassuring… at least during this forced encounter, MC would have her by her side.

And it was comforting to see that Nadia hadn’t taken out her gun yet.

Vivienne is the one who speaks, voice as demanding as firewood smoke, and MC goes deadly still when the seductress goes straight to the point instead of dancing around the subject as she usually does. “Nadia prevented us from breaking you out.”

Her words ring hollow. Now that MC has been out of her influence long enough, it’s easy to ignore her words. They are fake, anyway. They must be.

Nadia scoffs, wolfish grin still in place. “Blaming me now, huh? That’s low. I thought you would have come up with a better excuse.”

Remy instantly starts to explain the foiled attempts, and their most recent efforts to find Flashpoint now that MC was with them, but MC can’t look at him without remembering her time in prison—dark, dark, not an ally in sight, contempt in every corner—and it’s enough to make her bristle.

How dare they? How dare they spill these lies after leaving her to rot in jail? After lying to her for months, making her believe she was one of them?

The fact that they had left her to take the fall was insulting. If it had been Nadia, she would have stayed with her. They would have gone down together, guns blazing. Nadia was the type of person that gave everything or nothing at all.

Vivienne tries to speak again, a desperation in her eyes MC had never seen before, but the sight is oddly satisfying.

Nadia catches it, because of course she does, her smirk softening as she reaches for her gun and aims casually. “Better beg for your lives now.”

And Nadia’s also a very dramatic person, that’s for sure. MC almost wants to laugh at their faces, eyes trained on the gun, expression tainted with disbelief, but MC sees no point in killing them. Not like this, at least.

“What? You still don’t want to get back at them?” But even then, even with how much she’s itching to pull the trigger, Nadia lowers the weapon and scowls. “Fine.”

“Don’t come back to me with this bullshit. Next time I won’t hesitate to tell Nadia to pull the trigger. Maybe I’ll even pull the trigger myself.”

Vivienne sets her jaw and stands still, and MC gives her a small, triumphant smile before she follows Nadia out of the museum.

[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.”

[stilestilikeslydia]

Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy: Part Two

so I’m almost never on tumblr anymore, but in case any of you remember my old fics, I wanted to come back to let you know that I FINALLY finished the second part to this fic that I wrote for the Stydia Big Bang almost four years ago haha

there’s also some excellent art for it that @wellsjahasghost and @sydrianssage made for it way back in 2017 that you can check out here and here if you would like :)

enjoy!

(Rated M)

“I can't believe I've been a ghost for ten years, and nobody thought to tell me about the new Star Wars trilogy until today. ”

“Stiles, nobody even knew you existed until last month.”

Kira slapped Malia’s knee—lightly, because Kira was still incapable of giving an actual reprimand. “Well, we’ve told you about it now,” she said, offering him her brightest smile. “What did you think?”

“I think… I miss my blissful ignorance from eight hours ago, when I didn’t know that George Lucas greenlit this absolute garbage fire,” Stiles whined. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, The Force Awakens started out with a lot of potential, and the cast is full of extremely hot and talented people, but what the fuck?! My only regret is that my death tree wasn’t transformed into a desk in the writers’ room for these movies, or I could have haunted those dipshits until they figured out how to write a plot that actually made sense.”

“Your only regret, huh?” Lydia asked, keeping her tone dry and incredulous.

“No, you're right,” Stiles said, his expression instantly transforming into the biggest shit-eating grin Lydia had seen since before he'd died. “I also regret not inventing ectoplasmic grocery stores before my death. It’s unfair that I cook for all of you and don't get to eat any of it.”

“Not our fault you actually enjoy cooking,” Malia pointed out. “And depleting Lydia's bank account.”

“I am going to strangle you,” Lydia said. “Werecoyote strength or not.”

“But then who’s going to sit next to you in bars and make fun of everybody we see?”

“Yeah, you need her for that,” Kira added. “I’m terrible at judging people, and so is Scott.”

Scott toasted her with a grin, looking relaxed and comfortable against the armrest of the oversized couch he was currently sharing with a ghost and a realtor. Stiles took one look at him and snorted.

“Scott’s a terrible judge of many things,” he agreed. “People… the distance between a car bumper and the curb… movies…”

“Movies?”

“Yes, Scott!” Stiles crowed, now fully recovered from his initial disappointment. “This trilogy may have been a mess, but in order to watch it, you must have seen the other two trilogies too, and that means you have to know how great they are! Admit it, Star Wars is amazing, you were wrong, and I was right! Not watching it with me earlier was the biggest mistake of your life!”

“Maybe not the biggest,” Scott said, the grin on his face slipping a little. Lydia’s fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass. “Anyway, I already knew the Star Wars movies were good. I watched them junior year.”

“Junior year?! ” Stiles squawked, so surprised that he started sinking into the couch. “And you never told me?! What the hell, man, all those times you pretended not to get my references and you—”

“Of college,” Scott clarified, and the room went silent.

Lydia set her wine glass down on the coffee table with trembling fingers. The tapping of glass on wood sounded like a gunshot, a bullet to the lungs. There was a crescent moon outside. For one heart-shattering moment, Lydia swore she could smell wolfsbane.

“I’m going to go get a glass of water,” she said, voice too harsh to her own ears, bouncing off the walls and clanging in her skull. Another bullet to the lungs.

The next thing she became aware of was the press of a cabinet knob against her back, the solidity of a hardwood floor underneath her body. She was leaning against the kitchen island, eyes level with the cabinet that Stiles had poked open over and over again to entertain Brooke all those weeks ago. Tonight, though, when she opened it herself, there was nothing inside.

Lydia clung to the knob anyway and tried not to cry.

It wasn’t Stiles who came to check on her after a few minutes, or Scott, or even Kira. Instead, Malia was the one who tugged the cabinet door out of Lydia’s hand and dropped to the floor, flinging her legs out to one side and meeting Lydia’s eyes without flinching.

“Kira started talking about BB-8 again,” she said. “Scott looked like he wanted to change the subject.”

Lydia pressed her lips together, looked away, and settled her hands on her knees with careful precision. “That was nice of her. I’m sure he did.”

“He told me, you know,” Malia continued without missing a beat. “About what you told him. About Stiles wanting you to sell the house.”

Lydia’s fingers clenched around the hem of her dress. “Yes.”

Malia narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to?”

“I have to,” Lydia said, “or Yvenne will just find another realtor.”

“Okay, maybe,” Malia said. “But who are you going to sell it to ?”

Lydia froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “I know you’ve been considering it. You’ve been eyeing the curtains in the living room like you can’t wait to change them all night.”

“Maybe I just can’t believe Yvenne expects me to find a buyer for this house when it’s been decorated so poorly.”

Malia rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me. I’m more observant than you think, and I’m not Scott or Stiles. I’m not going to try and stop you.”

Slowly, precisely, Lydia tilted her head and met Malia’s piercing gaze. “You know what you’re saying, right? Scott and Stiles would try to stop me.”

“Yeah,” Malia said. “And that matters, because Lydia Martin always does what people tell her to do. And I had a normal childhood. And math was my favorite subject in high school.”

After a long moment, Lydia stood. Malia mimicked the movement. “I just think we’ve already lost enough people,” Lydia admitted. “I don’t want to lose him twice.”

“Like I said. I’m not going to try and stop you.”

For a while, Lydia told herself that she hadn’t made up her mind. She let Stiles cook her every meal and listened to him relive memories from high school and the two years of college he’d gotten to enjoy, doing his best to help her appreciate the times they’d shared together without losing herself in them. She fell asleep on the couch with him while they watched movies together and pretended that she didn’t know he’d been playing with her hair when she woke up. She allowed him to teach her how to cook and change the oil in her car, life skills that she’d always expected him to handle in their relationship, life skills he wanted her to master before he moved onto wherever he expected to go once he stopped being a ghost, but—

But then, on a Thursday afternoon a week before Yvenne’s deadline, Lydia’s phone rang.

They were in the middle of making stir fry, but Stiles nudged her with the spatula he was using—one loophole he’d found for their inability to make physical contact—and told her to answer it “just in case.” “It could be important, Lyds.”

That was precisely why she didn’t want to answer it, but with a long-suffering sigh and a pointed glare, Lydia wiped her hands off on a paper towel and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Lydia Martin? This is Shea O’Malley.”

Predictably and irksomely, Lydia’s heart rate increased. “What can I do for you, Shea?” she asked, smoothing on her realtor’s smile even though Shea couldn’t see. Between the way Stiles’s eyebrows were raised and the way his head was tilted so he could hear Shea’s half of the conversation, Lydia needed the extra armor.

“Well, Ben and Piper and I have been shopping around the neighborhoods near that lovely red house you showed us, but we simply haven’t found a place that compares. After a long discussion, Ben and I have decided that there’s no use searching any longer. We would like to place an offer on that red house.”

Lydia’s head was all white noise and bloodstains and terror. She tried to picture saying goodbye to Stiles and watching him dissolve into whatever dimension the rest of their dead loved ones had ended up in. She tried to imagine handing the keys over to the O’Malleys and leaving the red house for good. She tried to convince herself that it was possible for her to move on.

But like the O’Malleys, Lydia discovered that it was no use.

Once upon a time, it might have been possible for her to move on. But now Lydia’s heart was inextricably entwined with this red house.

The only difference was that Lydia had the ability to hold onto it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the white noise fading to a treacherous whisper. (So, basically nothing. Treacherous whispers were old friends in Lydia’s mind.) “You’re too late. The red house has already been sold.”

Stiles froze. Lydia froze, judging his reaction. Over the phone line, Lydia heard Shea’s breath catch, and then she sighed. “Are you certain there’s no chance of the buyer changing their mind? I mean, if we could place a counteroffer—”

“I’m afraid that there’s no amount of money you could offer that this particular buyer wouldn’t match,” Lydia said with as much gentleness as she could muster. The O’Malleys really were a nice family. “They’re quite dedicated, have a substantial savings account, and are at least as attached to the house as you are.”

Shea’s second sigh was only slightly less audible than the first. “Well, that’s it, then,” she said tiredly. “Thank you for all of your help, Lydia. We all thoroughly enjoyed meeting you the other day.”

“If you still haven’t found a different house in the next few weeks, let me know and I’ll help you keep looking. Free of charge,” Lydia blurted, because she was going to keep the house and Stiles and therefore she could afford to offer a little kindness to the family whose dream home she had just poached.

“Why, that’s very kind of you,” Shea said, oblivious to Lydia’s silent betrayal. “We may just take you up on that offer. Thank you again.”

And after the exchange of a few more pleasantries, she hung up.

“What the fuck?” Stiles said into the resulting silence. “A buyer made an offer on this house, and you didn’t tell me about it?”

Lydia set her phone on the counter. “You don’t really want me to leave.”

Stiles dropped his spatula. “What?”

“Come on, Stiles,” Lydia said. “Who do you think you’re talking to? If you really wanted me to move on, you never would have opened your mouth. I would have walked into this house on that first day, sold it, and walked right back out without ever knowing that you were here.”

“I—” Stiles spluttered. “I was surprised, and I just—”

“Maybe,” Lydia replied. “But that could have been it. I told you not to make it difficult for me to sell this house, and instead you scared off buyer after buyer until I figured out who you were. You say you want me to move on, but you’re here, Stiles. You’re standing right in front of me, and I’m never going to move on when I could have this instead!”

“What do you want me to say?” Stiles demanded. “Do you want an apology? Because I know you deserve one. I—I—I’m sorry for talking to you, I’m sorry for cooking you dinner, I’m sorry for being here! I didn’t mean to make this harder for you, and I’m sorry that I did! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“NO!”

It wasn’t a banshee scream, but it left Lydia hoarse and aching all the same.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” she whispered. “I just want you to want me to stay.”

“Well, I am sorry, Lyds. And I can’t give that to you.”

“Stiles—”

“Pick up the phone, Lydia. Call the O’Malleys. Tell them the buyer changed their mind.”

Lydia took a deep breath and looked at the man who was the love of both her life and whatever came after that. “No.”

“Lydia.”

“No, Stiles! I’m not going to do that! These last few weeks have been the happiest weeks of the past ten years. You can’t honestly stand there and expect me to give that up.”

“That’s the thing, though,” he said. “I’m not actually standing here.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“But it should.” Stiles reached out, brushed his fingers through a loose strand of her hair, and then stepped away. “I might not be able to stop you from buying this house, but that doesn’t mean I have to give you a reason to live here.”

There was a whoosh, as if he was opening up that interdimensional doorway again, and then he disappeared.

On the stove, the stir fry began to burn.

(read the rest on ao3)

[straylightdream]

part one: the protector

featuring: Mob Boss Kim Junmyeon x reader, Bodyguard Oh Sehun x reader

Cold, wicked and ruthless we’re all words that people used to describe Junmyeon, but when it came to her he made an oath to protect her. Sehun was assigned to watch over her, he never expected for her to break down his walls.

warnings: angst, mentions of violence, injuries, death, blood, ptsd, future chapters will contain sexual conteny.

word count: 10.4k

AN: this wasn’t intended to also be a Sehun story but it just happened. This is either going to be three or four chapters but each chapter will be very long.

moodboard & playlist >> next

series masterlist

Cold, wicked and ruthless we’re all the words that were used to describe the man that sat across from you. The dark mahogany table separated the two of you. His warm eyes were locked on the files in front of him. Your shaking hand gripped the yellow coffee cup that was on the table in front of you. Slowly your eyes drift down to the caramel colored liquid that Yixing had poured you. The room was dark except for the hazy warm yellow light that shined from the chandelier hanging above. 

The voice of Chanyeol catches your attention. He walks over to Junmyeon and says something low enough that you aren’t able to make out a single word. Your eyes stay focused on Junmyeon as you watch him slowly look up at you. He once again has the same frown he always wears as he looks at you. You can’t remember the last time he even smiled at you. 

You moved into Junmyeon's house two months ago when a drive-by took out your brother and left you shot and bleeding out. Your brother worked as one of Junmyeon's right hand men. Kim Junmyeon is the mob boss of one of the largest mobs in Korea EXO. He’s known as Suho by his enemies. 

You lost your mother at a very young age to cancer and your father left five years ago for the states. You’re older brother Sung-Ho was all that you really had in this world. He took care of you and did everything in his power to keep you safe. He did everything he possibly could to shield you from the dark world he associated with. Even though he tried to keep his dark secrets from you, you knew all about his gang and their leader Junmyeon. 

Your brother joined the gang while your father was still around. He was still a teen when he sold his soul to the devil and gave his fully undying loyalty to Junmyeon. Sung-Ho was the only reason your family could even afford food sometime, your father was never the best at keeping a steady job while attempting to raise two teens on the verge of adulthood. Even though you wanted nothing to do with the EXO mob and their blood stained money, you were well aware that the only reason you didn’t starve too many times to count was because of that blood stained money. 

Four years ago you remember waking up to the sound of a loud banging in your apartment at three in the morning. Walking to the edge of the hallway you found your brother answering the door with a gun in hand. Hiding in the hallway hoping nobody saw you as you listened as Chanyeol, Minseok and their leader Junmyeon entered your apartment. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of Minseok blood stained white shirt. Your presence was quickly spotted by Junmyeon. He stared at you silently for a moment before he asked you to come near. Sitting on the couch you listened as Junmyeon told your brother about the murder of one of his men and the attempted killing of another one Sehun who was shot. Your heart raced as Junmyeon dropped down to his knee in front of the couch holding out a cream business card that had a gold foil border around it. Your hands violently shook as you took the card. There was just something about Junmyeon that made you nervous. He had even when he was a teenager. Now the thought of all the power he held terrified you. He went on to inform you if anything ever happens to your brother or you, you are to call that number before police. Silently you nodded your head feeling sick to your stomach. From that moment that business card found a permanent place in your wallet and put the number in your phone on your favorites list under “back up”. 

Three and half years late you’re sitting on the wet concrete with your back pushed up against the car you were attempting to get into. Your hand grips your arm that most likely still has a bullet lodged into it. Your body violently shakes from a mixture of the cold air and the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Tears pour down your wet cheeks as you look at your brother who is lying lifeless on the wet asphalt in front of you in a pool of his own blood. This was never how things were supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to lose your brother the only person in your life like this. He wasn’t supposed to be ripped out of your hands in front of you. 

Your ears are still ringing from the sound of constant gunshots. Your head is pound from the impact against the black Mercedes you're leaning against. 

Releasing your arm you gasp in pain. Reach into your purse you frantically search for your phone. Pulling out you quickly click the emergency number saved in your phone. 

As you sob on holding on to your phone shaking from pain and fear. The phone rings twice before you hear someone say hello. Unsure of who you’re talking to, you go on to tell them Sung-Ho as been killed and that you were shot. 

Five minutes after hanging up the phone Chanyeol arrives with a few men you have met before. One being Yixing who you knew had medical training. Another one being Jongin, and Sehun. There are about five other men with them you’ve never seen before. 

They find you pressed up against the car bloody and shaking holding on to your arm tightly. You can’t help but sob staring at your brother knowing this is the last time you’ll ever see him again. 

Chanyeol drops down crouching in front of you. Ever so gently he reaches out pushing your wet hair behind your ear. He has a grief stricken look on his face as he softly apologizes. Looking past him you see Yixing and Sehun kneeling by your brother. Jongin paces near his body clearly upset. 

Chanyeol is asking you questions about the people that did this, but you aren’t able to give him much of a response. Your brain feels like it’s filled with goo unable  to properly form words. The bloody scene played out so quickly your brain wasn’t able to fully process faces of any of the details. 

Yixing joined Chanyeol examining your injury. He went on to ask a spew of questions about your injuries. Without meaning to you once again started sobbing thinking of the pain of the bullet piercing your skin. Closing your eyes, the image of your brother's blood splattering plays a horrific mental picture. 

You had fully expected them to take you to the hospital but you’re shocked when you leave with just Yixing and Chanyeol. Chanyeol's large frame carried your frail body as if you weighed nothing. He carries you bridal style to the car they arrived in. They take you to a strange mansion you had never seen before. 

That night Yixing numbed you and removed the bullet and stitched you up. Laying on the bed in the medical room you feel numb as you stare at the metal cart that holds all the medical supplies used to fix you and stitch you up. You feel lost in a sea of useless thoughts filled with blood. Your head is pounding from Sung-Ho pushing you into the car in attempts to save you from the gunshots. He died protecting you. You wouldn’t still be breathing if your brother hadn’t shoved you away. The dark thought of what would've happened if you were killed and not him crossed your mind. You weren’t sure Sung-Ho could process losing you. He always told you that he was put on this planet to protect you. 

The door creaks as it slowly opens. Your eyes drift up to see Junmyeon entering the room dressed in a suit with an unreadable expression playing across his face. His hair is pushed back and you can’t help but think about how he looks like he’s dressed for a funeral. He pulled up a chair sitting next to the bed. Silently he stares at you for what felt like an eternity. Your eyes are growing heavy the longer you stare at him. If he doesn’t speak soon you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to stay awake long enough to talk to him. 

“You’re moving in here,” his voice finally breaks the silence. 

Your eyes flutter open looking up at him. You aren’t sure if it’s your possible concussion, but you’re unsure if you heard him properly.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. 

“I told your brother that I would protect you if anything ever happened to him. So it is now my duty to watch over you,” he runs his fingers through his dark hair and lets out a heavy sigh. The weight of the world seems like it’s on his shoulders. You assume being a very powerful mob boss was probably extremely stressful. 

Your brother met Junmyeon when he was a teenager. They had attended the same school. They grew up together and you knew they were like brothers. You weren’t the only one who lost a brother that night. Junmyeon and his men lost someone who was like a brother to them. 

Even though you were unsure about living with Junmyeon you had no desire to argue with him. You knew that if you left someone was going to kill you. They took out your brother and would have no problem killing you. Your life didn’t really exist without your brother either. You’ve never been a sociable person. You lived your life focusing on school attempting to make a better life for yourself. At the moment school didn’t even seem to matter to you anymore. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. The death of your brother would change your life forever. You could no longer pretend the dark underbelly of the city didn’t exist. You were pulled head first in wine colored sea. Luckily Junmyeon was there to offer you a lifeboat to save you from the monster that swam in the sea. 

Since that night you hadn’t left Junmyeon’s compound. The outside world left you terrified after that night. At least you knew when you were at the compound you were safe. Junmyeon constantly has somebody watching over you. Since moving in you were never fully alone. You knew the thought should bother you that the only time you get any amount of privacy is when you’re in the bathroom or you’re sleeping, but you know when when you’re sleeping you’re not actually alone. The boys stand guard watching over you. You felt like whoever killed your brother fully planned to finish you off. You knew you weren’t supposed to live that night. You were now nothing more than a loose end. 

A gentle hand rested on your shoulder catching you off guard. Looking up you find Sehun standing over you. He’s the youngest of the group and the same age as you. There is something about him that has a calming effect on you. It might be his soft eyes or his gentle smile he gives you. You know that even though he’s gentle with you Sehun is a killer. You’ve heard Jongin mention that he’s the best shot in the group that he’s an assassin. Thinking about all the lives that he’s probably taken makes you uneasy. You try your hardest to forget about the fact that the men that take care of you are nothing but killers. You try to see them as nothing more than protectors. The few times you and your brother had candid talks about the gang, were when you told him that his hands were forever stained with blood. He would then tell you, “the people that die aren’t innocent people. They die because they were killers first.” In his mind and the mind of the men who work for Junmyeon they weren’t the bad guys. The lines between good and bad were starting to blur and you didn’t know who was who anymore. 

“I have to leave on business for three day,” Junmyeon says, speaking up for the first time since sitting down at the table. 

Since your brother's passing he hadn’t left on a trip once. He left the compound almost every day to go to his office, but he never actually left over night. The feeling of him being gone terrified you. 

He must see the look of fear taking over you. “You’ll be fine. Sehun will be your personal bodyguard from here on out. He’s moving into the room next to yours and he’ll be by you at all times, and Jongin, Jongdae, and Kyungsoo will be watching over you as well. From the circle I’m only taking Chanyeol, Yixing, Minseok, and Baekhyun.”

The circle as he refers to his men are his eight main men. The most trusted people that work for him. The circle used to consist of nine until you lost your brother. From the moment your brother was killed the rest of the inner circle moved into the compound as well. A few of them such as Jongdae and Yixing had their own apartments, but since it was clear somebody was targeting members of Junmyeon tight knit circle he wanted everyone at the compound at all times. Before all of this Chanyeol who is his main guard and his right hand man Minseok already lived at the compound with him. 

The man whose hand is still resting on your shoulder was probably the most protective of you other than Chanyeol. Sehun would never let anything happen to you. You felt safe knowing that he assigned Sehun to look after you. 

“Okay,” your voice is meek as you finally speak. 

“You’ll be fine,” Sehan finally speaks as he runs his thumb across your shoulder. 

Moments later the rest of the inner circle has joined you in the dining around. Sehun hasn’t moved from his spot standing over you. Jongin comes over and sits at the table near you and the rest the boys stand throughout the room. 

You listen as Junmyeon is telling the men about his plan. You can’t seem to focus much after he tells the men that will be staying behind with you. Your hand tremors as you lift the yellow mug up to your lips. 

“May I be excused?” You ask like a child asking to leave the dinner table. You can’t sit here and listen to their plan about whatever Junmyeon must leave for. He gives you a small nod as you stand up. 

Walking up the stairs you feel weak. Reach the top you walk down the hallway that is littered with expensive artwork, dragging your hand across the bright white walls, steadying your wobbly frame. Since the night of the accident your body hasn’t ever felt right. Something inside of you just feels as if your body is never fully balanced. You always feel slightly off kilter. You feel as if you never fully recovered from your concussion. The sound of footsteps behind you informs you that Sehun is right behind you. You know from here on out he’ll always be right behind you. Stopping you take a breath waiting for him to catch up to you. Closing your eyes you wait for him for his calming touch. Nothing seems to comfort you like his warm touch. 

His hand gently touches your shoulder and you look up at him. You want to say something to him but your mind can not seem to make any words as you stare at him aimlessly. You constantly feel like you’re living in a dazed state. 

“Are you okay?” He asks as he stares at you seeming completely confused. 

“I don’t know,” your voice shakes as your eyes bounce around everywhere other than his eyes. 

“I need to lay down.”

Removing his hand from your shoulder he follows you down the hallway towards your room. Opening your bedroom door you hold it open hoping he follows you inside. 

Your bedroom is dark with navy curtains pulled blocking the light from entering your room. Your bed is pushed against the wall to the left of the window. Your room Junmyeon has set up for you beautiful and in any other circumstance you would love this room. You wished more than anything that this room would feel like home. That it could fill the hole in your chest, but unfortunately it doesn’t. It just feels like a foreign room to you. 

Walking over sitting on the edge of your bed you look over at Sehun who is still standing by your door. This is the first time today you’ve actually focused on the man who is supposed to be your bodyguard. He’s wear a dress pants an white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Your eyes can’t help but focus on the gun tucked into his waistband. 

“Sorry I took you away from the meeting,” you finally speak up. 

“It’s fine. Kyungsoo will update me later. You’re my only concern now.”

“Okay.”

“Are you gonna take a nap?” he hasn’t moved from where he’s standing. 

Gently you nod your head. 

“Okay I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he says before stepping out of the room. 

-

From the moment your brother passed away you haven’t been able to have a full night sleep without a nightmare. The image of your brother's lifeless body seems to be a repeat nightmare that haunts you in your sleep. Cold sweats take over your body waking you as a blood curdling scream passes your lips. 

Sitting up you’re breathing heavy as Sehun rushes into your room shirtless holding his gun. 

“What happened?” He asks, walking toward you in seconds. 

“It’s just a nightmare,” you’re breathing heavy as you’re attempting to calm down. 

He puts his gun into the waistband pajama pants and stands at the foot of your bed staring at you with a worried look on his face. You can’t help when your eyes roam his golden skin of tone abs. You hadn’t ever seen him shirtless and you can’t help but stare. 

“Chanyeol told me you’ve been having nightmares,” his voice is raspy and you can tell that your scream woke him up. 

You close your eyes, sighing. Chanyeol found you screaming in the middle of the night on your first full night at the compound. He rubbed your back gently as you sobbed, reliving your brother's death. Chanyeol’s a gentle giant when it comes to you. He had been before your brother's death and even more now. 

“They’re not always this bad,” you say, not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself. 

“Have you talked to anyone about them?” 

Shaking your head you don’t even know who you could talk to. You highly doubt Junmyeon would have someone take you to a therapist, but maybe if you asked he would. From the moment you moved in he went out of his way attempting to make everything as comfortable as possible for you. 

“If you need to talk I can listen, or one of the guys. Kyungsoo is a really good listener,” he looks so innocent standing there.  The only thing that wasn’t innocent was his beautiful abs and the gun tucked into his waistband. 

“I’ll be okay. I’m sorry for waking you,” you pull the covers into your chest. 

“Okay I’m in my room right next door if you need me,” he says bowing his head slightly. 

The following morning Junmyeon returned from his trip. You’re sitting at the large mahogany table with omelette in front of you that Kyungsoo had made for you. Your eyes seem to only be able to focus on the glass of orange that Jongin had placed in front of you before walking off to the kitchen. 

Footsteps capture your attention and the found of Chanyeol voice echoing through the halls. Junmyeon walks into the dining area looking more stressed than when he left. He sits down across from you and lets out a heavy sigh. Chanyeol stands behind him as Baekhyun walks off into the kitchen. Silently your eyes study the man sitting across from him. He seems more worried than normal. Looking over at Sehun who is sitting next to you, his eyes are locked on his boss. 

“Sehun later I’m gonna have Baekhyun watch after YN and I need to have a meeting with you and the rest of the circle,” his voice is firm and commanding. 

You know that Junmyeon never talks about business around you, but the fact that he’s assigning Baekhyun to watch over you so Sehun can attend a meeting leaves you nervous that something is wrong. 

“Yes sir,” Sehun nods his head. 

Junmyeon doesn’t say a word to you as you finish your breakfast. He seems so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn’t even realize you’re there. Whatever he wants to talk to Sehun about must be important because the moment you stand up to leave the dining area he asks him to stay behind. In one swift movement Baekhyun walks across the dining room, stopping right in front of you. Your eyes automatically check to see if he’s carrying his gun like Sehun always did. Shaking your head you turn on your heels walking away from whatever meeting they need to have. 

Walking out of the dining room you head towards the foyer Baekhyun is about two feet behind you. You have nothing against Baekhyun, he's a kind man with a bright personality, but he doesn’t give you the same comfort as Sehun does. 

Stopping at the stairs that lead towards Junmyeon’s office and library Baekhyun who is pushing his fingers through his hair stops next to you. 

“Is it about me?” you ask knowing that Baekhyun most likely won’t tell you anything. 

“Not just you.”

A wave of fear washes over you as you stare at him. You thought he might lie to you and say no or just plain and simple tell you he can’t speak on the matter. 

“Can we go to the library?”

He nods and gestures his hand towards the library. You take the dark hardwood stairs that lead you up to where the library is. It’s an area you rarely go to even though the library is probably your favorite location in the compound. You’ve only ever been in Junmyeon office once, and you only went to the library on rare occasions to distract yourself. 

The library is a calming location for you. The dark mahogany bookshelves that go floor to ceiling and the large window let’s in the warm sun from outside. Under the window sits a large leather couch that Chanyeol has informed you was a custom made for Junmyeon. According to him the couch cost more than some of his luxury cars that were in the underground garage. Covering the dark wood floor is a beautiful rug that you assumed was from Paris. Walking over to the wall that’s filled with thousands of books you go to the little side section that is filled with books that you moved that you were fond of reading. There’s a mix of Shakespeare, poetry books, and few love stories. Pulling out a poetry book you look over Baekhyun who is sitting in a leather chair near the door. His eyes are focused on you as you open the book. Your eyes glide across the beautiful words of a man declaring his love to women that doesn’t return his feelings. You scroll across the word as you walk over to the expensive leather couch. The first time Chanyeol tells you all about the overpriced couch you refused to sit on it. Telling him it costs more than your life. He went on to tell you Junmyeon would much rather have you sit on it and enjoy his collection of books then let it sit there collecting dust. 

Holding the book against your chest you look out the window seeing the flowers bloom on the distant cherry blossom trees. The warm sun beaming through the window feels nice against your skin. Your hand slowly reaches out resting on the window. You don’t remember the last time you were outside. It’s been so long, but that’s your own doing. By no means is Junmyeon holding you hostage you have your own free will. He’s informed you’re allowed to go out but you’ll need guards. The world outside that window scares you. You might miss the feeling of the warm sun on your skin, the smell of the flowers blooming, and the gentle breeze in your hair. 

You can feel Baekhyun eyes burning into you as you stare out the window like a crazy person. Looking at him you find him quickly averting his eyes. You wonder what all of the men think about you. You have some sort of a friendship with each of them. You’re by far the closest to Chanyeol and then Sehun, even though the latter doesn’t really say much to you. You talk to the other every so often but they don’t know much about you. They probably find it strange you’re normally locked in your room all the time with your curtains closed. 

Your eyes are locked on Baekhyun until the library door opens. You’re surprised when you see Junmyeon walking in with Sehun following right behind him. He sends Baekhyun off and tells Sehun to wait outside. 

Sitting the book down on the couch next to you, you watch as Junmyeon puts his hands in his pockets as he stares down at you with an unreadable look. You learned very quickly that Junmyeon has mastered the art of hiding his emotions. You can never tell what he’s actually thinking. 

“You’re having nightmares?” he speaks up breaking the silence that fills the library? 

Slowly you nod your head. You know Sehun told him. He was genuinely concerned when you woke him up screaming in the middle of the night. 

“Did you want to talk to someone?” he stands locked in once place in front of you. A soft expression is across his face as he looks at you. 

“I don’t want to go out there,” you assume he realizes by now the outside world scares you. You haven’t ever asked to even walk out into the yard. 

“I can’t send the whole inner circle with you, if you would like to talk to someone,” in the whole time you’ve been here you’ve never seen him send the whole inner circle off leaving him with his lower level men. 

Shaking your head you know that even being surrounded by those eight men you would still feel terrified. 

“I can have someone come here. You can talk to them here if you would like?” 

You shake your head once again. 

“Did you want to talk to me about it?” this is the most he had talked to you in weeks. You knew that Junmyeon cared about you to some extent, but you weren’t sure if that was because he felt guilty for what happened to your brother. 

“Can I sit?” his eyes move to the spot on the leather couch next to you. 

Silently you nod. 

He looks at you with that same soft expression. “I want to help you. I brought you here because I promised your brother long ago that I would protect you no matter what. I don’t want to just protect you, I want to help you. I want to take care of you. So please let me know how I can help.”

Your heart races at his statement. Junmyeon has never once been cruel to you or mean, but he often was distant. That might have to do with the fact he has so much business he must attend to. The fact that he’s telling you that he made an oath your late brother is overwhelmingly you. You knew that he planned on protecting you, that is why Sehun now follows everywhere you go except the bathroom. It’s also the reason you now live in this large compound with Junmyeon and eight other men who always have a watchful eye on you. 

“When I close my eyes I see Sung-Ho lying on the asphalt,” you finally speak up. Just the mention of your brother's lifeless body makes your throat feel like it’s constricting. “I wake up screaming because I watched the bullet enter his body that took him away from me,” your eyes brim with tears. “I wasn’t supposed to ever lose him. Sung-Ho was my best friend. He was the only person I truly had in the world,” a sob breaks in your chest as tears start to slide down your cheeks. Junmyeon is staring at you with sorrow filled eyes. “My father didn’t care about my brother or I. We’ve been nothing but a burden in his life. He didn’t even come home for his son's burial. He hasn’t even reached out to ask what I was going to do, or how I’m handling everything,” your chest tightens as you finally confess all the heartbreak that has been eating away at you. “I just want the nightmares to go away, and even if I talk to someone about them. They aren’t going to go away,”

Closing your eyes you try your hardest to stop the tears that keep falling. The feeling of his warm skin on your cheek catches you off guard. Opening your eyes, you stare at him as a calloused hand rests on your tear stained cheek ever so gently. He’s touching you as if you’re made of glass that if he’s not careful you’ll shatter into a million pieces. His thumb gently brushes away a tear as it falls down your cheek. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to keep your brother safe. I didn’t know someone was stupid enough to go after the inner circle,” he sounds like his guilt ridden. That your brother's death is weighing down on him. 

“It’s not your fault,” you aren’t exactly sure if you mean it, but you say it anyway because you don’t want him to think it is. Anyway you look at it, Sung-Ho’s death happened because he was a part of the EXO Gang. His death wasn’t an accident by any means. He was murdered because of his job. 

He takes a deep breath. His hand is still gently resting on your cheek. His hand doesn’t feel foreign, you feel safe in his touch.

“Why did you talk to Sehun?” you ask, needing to know. 

Slowly he removes his hand from you and you suddenly feel cold missing his touch. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. You’ve seen him do this before when he’s frustrated reading a document at the table. You don’t expect him to tell you anything, he never actually does. 

“I found out who killed your brother,” his voice drops an octave. 

The bile climbs up your throat as it takes everything in you not spill the contents of your breakfast on the beautiful rug that is on the floor in front of you. 

Your voice shakes as you ask, “who did it?”

The tears slide down your cheek once again knowing that Junmyeon is going to inform you about who took your brother's life. 

“Are you sure you want to know. I won’t tell you if you’re not ready?”

“I need to know,” you know you weren’t ready for this information, but you can’t go another day not knowing. 

“The Choi family is trying to make moves on my territory. Low level men of theirs ambushed you and your brother. They won’t come for you, but to be safe Sehun is still your personal bodyguard. I don’t trust anyone more than Sehun to keep you safe,” he looks at you with a serious look across his face. He’s gone from the gentle Junmyeon who was wiping away your tears to Suho as they call him. Suho is the fearless leader of EXO. Anyone who works for him outside the inner circle refers to him by that name. Him coming off as Suho to you doesn’t mean he’s being cold toward you, but he’s being serious about your safety coming first.

He looks away from you and stares at the rug below his feet. Without thinking you reach out resting your hand on his arm. You never really touched the man in front of you, but in this intense moment you’re sharing you wish more than anything you could hug him. The feeling of you touching him catches his attention. He looks at you with a serious look on his face. Like he’s trying his hardest to hold it together. 

“Is the man still alive that killed my brother?” The words stumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. 

“No,” the simple single word hits you like a tidal wave. The relief that washes over you makes you feel sick that you’re okay with a man dying. 

“Baekhyun handled it.”

The man who had been sitting in the library with you not long ago avenged your brother but didn’t even say anything. He acted as if it was just another day on the job. 

“The Choi family is moving into my territory, but I want you to know that you will not get hurt. They won’t come near this compound. I will also be leaving at least four of the inner circle with you at all times along with other men guarding the compound,” you realize that his meeting with Sehun was him telling your guard that your brother’s murder was dead, and that Junmyeon already had a plan to keep you safe. 

“What about you. Aren’t they meant to keep you safe?” You feared greatly about the man sitting next to you safety. It was clear he was going to do everything in his power to keep you safe, but you prayed that wasn’t going to weaken his defense. 

“Don’t worry about my safety,” he reaches down and rests his hand on his gun that’s tucked into his waistband. 

“I can’t help but worry.”

“I’ll always have Chanyeol, Minseok, Baekhyun, and Yixing with me. All of those men can keep me safe just fine. Whenever I leave you’ll have Sehun, Jongin, Jongdae, and Kyungsoo with you. I’ll have Baekhyun with me because he is the second best shot behind Sehun. You have enough to worry about I don’t need you to worry about me,” a little smile tugs at his lips. 

“I can’t help it,” you sigh, pulling your hand away from his arm. 

“If you ever need to talk about your nightmares I can listen. Just tell Sehun you need to talk or wave down Chanyeol,” he reaches over once again resting his hand on your cheek and pushing away the tears that are drying on your skin. 

“Okay,” you whisper as he pulls his hand away from your skin. 

“I’m sorry to leave but I need to take a call. 

He stands and walks out of the library. The door remains open and Sehun slowly walks inside. You realize right now this is the most casual you’ve seen him dressed. He’s in a sweater with a pair of jeans, and boots. You’re so used to him being in business attire. He stands in the doorway watching as you walk across the room to put the book back. 

You lead the way walking out of the library. Sehun is right behind you the whole way. Heading off into the kitchen. Stopping at the large marble island you look at Sehun who is standing there watching you. He’s not a man of many words but there is something about him that is just so comforting to you. Reaching into the cupboard you pull out that familiar yellow mug you normally have your coffee in. You aren’t sure where it came from or who it belongs to, but you’ve claimed it as your own. Grabbing the kettle off the stove you fill it with water and set it down. Lighting the stove you hear Sehun step closer to you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

You nod your head without even fully thinking. You weren’t okay, but you couldn’t let him know that. He has enough to worry about. He doesn’t need to worry about you. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your life,” you say, not even looking at him as you pull two tea bags from the cupboard. 

“What do you mean?” he responds, sounding confused. 

“I’m assuming prior to me moving in you had a social life of some sorts and maybe a partner. I’m sorry if becoming my full time babysitter ruined that for you,” you know he didn’t ask for this job. He got assigned to you because everyone knew he was the best shot of the group. 

“I don’t really have a social life outside of the events I attend with Junmyeon. I’ve been a part of this group since I was sixteen. This has been my life for as long as I can remember. I also don’t have a girlfriend to worry about,” he says raising his eyebrow. 

“Oh,” you say softly. 

You weren’t even sure what the point of your original statement was. After your conversation with Junmyeon you’re left feeling emotionally unsure of everything. 

“I’m sorry I told him about your nightmare,” he places his hand on the marble counter top near your hand. 

“If you didn’t tell him Chanyeol eventually would. I have no reason to hide them from him. He only wants to help.”

The pressure releasing from the kettle screams. Turning you reach over removing the kettle from the stove. Pouring yourself a cup you feel Sehun's eyes burning into you. Looking up at him you ask him if he would like a cup. He shakes his head and continues to stare at you. Aimlessly you make your cup of tea attempting to distract your mind of the millions of thoughts that seem to plague your mind. 

“Did he tell you about what happened?” He sounds so unsure as he asks you. 

You nod unsure if you can actually speak. 

“I told him I wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear that. You’re already going through a lot,” his low voice is soothing. 

“I needed to know,” you blow on your tea before taking a sip of the scalding liquid. “Does it make me a terrible person that I think I can sleep better knowing the man that killed my brother is dead?” You felt sick to your stomach admitting you were happy that a man lost his life. 

“No not at all.”

“I’m terrified they’re gonna come for me. I’m nothing more than a loose end to the Choi family,” a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of that ruthless family tracking you down. 

“They’re not going to come for you. I won’t let them get near you, and I don’t think you realize how much Junmyeon has up the security at and around the compound. You might constantly see Junmyeon and the inner circle, but you don’t see the twenty men who are constantly outside roaming the property with guns drawn. You’re safe here no matter what,” paused taking a beat staring at you. “I’ll take a bullet for you before I let anything happen to you.”

The thought of Sehun dying to protect you made you want to cry. You couldn’t handle losing another person. You’ve grown to care deeply for the man standing across from you. He’s done nothing but show you kindness and go out of his way to protect you. 

“Please don’t die for me. Another person can die protecting me,” your eyes brim with tears as you clutch your yellow coffee mug. 

“I don’t plan on dying, but I will take someone out to keep you safe,” he steps towards you. There’s very little space between. Slowly he reaches forward and pushes a piece of hair behind your eyes. His fingers linger on your skin for a long moment. The air in the room feels thick as his dark eyes stare at you. 

“Okay.”

*

As night time falls laying in your bed you stare at the window that is covered by the dark curtains. Your mind roams to places it shouldn’t go. You wonder if the man that killed your brother felt any remorse. You wondered if before Baekhyun killed him if he told him about the man whose life he took. A shiver ran down your spine. 

Sitting up you look at the alarm on your nightstand to see it’s one in the morning. Swallowing your dry throat reminds you how thirsty you are. Walking over to the door you open it and close it slowly wondering if Sehun heard you leave your room. You stand in the hallway staring at his door for a long moment. It takes all of about thirty seconds for Sehun to step out in the hallway. He once again dressed in nothing but a pair of pajama pants with his gun in his waistband. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked. 

Nodding you say, “I needed water.”

Walking off towards the kitchen Sehun follows right behind you. Off to the left of the kitchen you see the flickering lights of the tv letting you know that some of the men were awake. Reaching into the fridge you pull out a bottle of water. Holding it out towards Sehun who is standing about two feet away from you. He takes it from your hand and nods his head. Grabbing a bottle for yourself you close the fridge door and twist off the lid. The cold water feels refreshing as you take a drink. 

“What are you doing up?” You look over to find Junmyeon walking into the kitchen dressed in nothing but a pair of lounge pants that rest low on his hips showing off his beautifully toned body. You’ve rarely seen him dressed in anything other than business attire. This was the first time you had ever seen him shirtless. You notice right away he isn’t carrying a gun like Sehun is. 

“I needed water,” you say. 

“Were you sleeping okay?” He asks, stepping closer to you. 

You shake your head and say, “I haven’t been able to fall asleep yet.”

“Sehun, can I have a moment with her?” he asks, dismissing your guard. Silently he nods and leaves the room head off to the tv room where the flickering lights were. 

“Why can’t you sleep?” he asks when you’re alone. 

That’s a loaded question. You could listen to a handful of reasons why you couldn’t sleep. One of them was the information shared with you today seemed to be taking up every one of your thoughts. 

“I can’t shut my mind off. I have too many things running through my mind,” you say simplifying all the reasons you couldn’t sleep. 

“Why don’t you take a bath and relax?”

Shrugging your shoulders you realize you never even thought about it. In the bathroom attached to your room you had a beautiful marble bathtub you had yet to use. 

“It will help you relax.”

“Why are you awake?” Nervously play with the cap on your water bottle. 

“I couldn’t sleep either. I seem to also have a lot on my mind,” a soft chuckle passes his lips. You aren’t sure if you’ve ever heard him laugh before. His soft laugh makes you feel warm inside. There's something about the way he’s acting around you that feels so normal. He doesn’t have the same wall built up he normally does. He’s acting like a normal man and not a mob boss. “I was going to see what Jongin and Baekhyun are watching.”

“Will watching tv help you sleep?” 

He shakes his head, “no but it will help distract me.”

“Oh.” You were curious to know what was going on in his mind that was so distracting to him. You can’t help but wonder if he’s worried about the aftermath of taking out one of Choi’s men. It’s a thought that has crossed your own mind. 

“Why don’t you go take that bubble bath and relax?” he reaches out and gentles rest his hand on the counter top near yours. 

“Okay. Goodnight Junmyeon.”

A soft smile crosses his lips, “goodnight.”

Walking out of the kitchen you find Sehun waiting for you right past the archway. You examine his face and you can’t help but notice how tired he looks. It’s clear that you have once again interrupted his sleep. The walk to your room is short. You stop at the door looking at Sehun who is intently watching you. 

“Are you going to go to sleep?” he asks. 

You shake your head, “Junmyeon suggested I take a bubble bath to relax.”

His tongue runs across his bottom lip as he nods his head. “When you moved and he sent some of the guys to get your things, he sent Jongdae and Kyungsoo to the store to get things for your room. He also had them get you bath stuff,” in his tired state he’s rambling a little and you can’t help but find it sweet. “Would you like me to show you where some of it is?” 

Nodding you open your bedroom door. He leads you into the bathroom. Opening the cabinet next to your sink he pulls out a bottle of lavender scented bath oil and bubble bath. He sits them on the counter awkwardly and gives you a soft smile. 

He turns on his heels to walk away and before he can exit the room you reach forward grabbing his hand. He stops in his tracks and looks back at you with a confused look. 

“Can you show me how to use the tub? I don’t know which knob turns on the hot water,” you feel like a small child asking for help. You were a grown woman you shouldn’t need a man to walk you through how to use a bathtub. 

His eyes drop down looking at your hand that is still holding on to his. Your cheeks flush bright red suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed. You release his hand and quickly step aside. 

He kneels on the floor next to the marble bathtub and turns on the hot water. You stand there awkwardly watching him. Your eyes can’t help be drawn to his tone back. There was just something about Sehun that just left you constantly in awe. He looked like the boy next door with the boy of a Greek god. He stands up turning around. He’s caught you gawking and his golden skin. 

“Do you need anything else?” 

You shake your head unable to form any actual words. 

“If you need anything I’m right next door.” He walks across the bathroom and stops in the doorway turning back to look at you. You fiddle with the sleeves on your pajama shirt that is too large for your frame. His gaze captures your full attention. “Goodnight,” his voice warms your insides. 

“Goodnight Sehun.”

Standing in the same spot you listen for the sound of your bathroom door shutting before you shut the bathroom door. You slowly strip away your pajamas before pouring the heavenly scented oils into the warm water. Dipping your toes into the wonderfully warm water, a relaxing sensation takes over you. Sinking fully into the water a heavy sigh passes your lips. You sit there for a long moment with your shoulders above the water. You massage the warm into your skin that is still exposed to the air. As your finger passes over the scar that is left from where you were shot you can’t help but shiver. You shake your head trying to not think about the pain the injury caused. Slowly you fully submerge your body except for your head. 

Closing your eyes you lean your head back and softly hum along to the song your mother used to sing to you while you were a child. Since losing your brother you’ve seemed to miss your mother more than ever. The empty feelingin taking over your heart at the fact that you don’t have a family anymore. It’s grown clear to you that your father doesn’t care about you. If he did care he would have come home the moment he heard he lost his son. 

At a young age when you were able to sleep your mother would sing a sweet lullaby to you while she laid in bed with you. After losing your mom at such a young age, you brother learned the sweet lullaby. There were many nights when you were unable to sleep, and Sung-Ho would sit on the edge of your bed and sing the lullaby to you. Tears slowly slide down your cheek thinking of the last time the only two people that truly loved you sang this song to you. 

You’ve cried so much over the last two months you can’t help but wonder if the tears will ever stop flowing. At what point have you cried so much that you just have nothing left inside you. 

Reaching up you wash away your tears. You can’t sit here and cry in the middle of the night. This bath was supposed to relax you, not make you cry. 

You start humming the lullaby hoping that it will bring you comfort. You pray one day that the hole in your chest will be filled. That the sadness that fills you will just one day disappear. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been sitting in the bathroom but the water is lukewarm now. The sound of someone knocking on the door startles you. 

You hear your name faintly on the other side of the door. 

“Who is it?” you say. 

There’s another knock and you say something muffled. You’re assuming it’s either Sehun or Jongin. You quickly hop out of the tub and reach for your towel. Before you can even fully wrap the fluffy white towel around you, you lose your footing on the cool marble tile and slip. Your body hits the floor like a pile of bricks. You can’t help but cry out in pain. The sound of the doorknob wiggling makes you reach for your towel quickly covering your wet body. You attempt to wrap it around you to the best of your ability. 

Sehun rushes in looking startled. He drops down in front of you as he says, “are you okay?” 

You nod lying. You can’t help but wince as you try to sit up. 

“I’m sorry I scared you. You’ve been in here for over an hour and I got worried,” his voice shakes slightly. You never heard his voice waver like this before. 

“Sorry,” tug on the towel trying to keep your wet body covered. 

“What did you hurt?” 

“Maybe my wrist,” you realized right away that you might have hurt it when you fell. You hadn’t even tried to move it yet because you were worried it was going to hurt too much. 

“I need to take you Yixing,” he reaches you for you to help you but you quickly push his hands away. If he helps you up there is a good chance he’ll see you naked. The towel you’re wearing is barely covering you. 

“Can you please turn around?” 

He stands quickly and gives you a moment of privacy. You reach for your pajama shirt and quickly pull it on and grab your underwear and shorts that were folded on the counter. 

“You can look back.”

He turns to face you and finds you attempting to stand up. He lifts you effortlessly onto your feet. 

“I’m so sorry I scared you,” he repeats as his eyes are locked on your wrist you’re holding against your chest. 

“I’ll be okay.” You knew this wasn’t his fault at all. This happened because you’re easily startled now on top of being clumsy. 

“I need to have Yixing look at that.” He’s not asking for you to go with him. He’s telling you he needs you to go see Yixing. 

“Okay,” you don’t bother arguing. He needs you to seek medical attention because it’s his job to watch after you. 

Walking out of your bedroom you walk down the hallway with his warm hand gently on your back as he leads you towards the medical area. Passing Junmyeon room you see Chanyeol standing outside the door leaning against the wall looking at something on his phone. 

“Chanyeol please wake Yixing for me and tell him he needs to see her in the medical room,” Sehun says. 

Chanyeol’s eyes immediately are drawn to your wrist that you're holding close to your body. He doesn’t ask any questions, he just nods his head. 

Walking into the medical room Sehun flips on the light and helps you sit on the edge of the bed. He’s staring at you intently watching every single movement you make. His dark eyes lock on yours and you can see how guilty he feels. 

“Sehun,” you say barely above a whisper. You aren’t even exactly sure what you plan on saying to him. But you need to say something. You can’t have him staring at you like he broke you. “It’s okay.”

Before he can even respond, Yixing walks into the room looking half awake. He’s dressed in plaid pajama pants and a grey long sleeve shirt. He pushes his fingers through his dark hair walking towards you. 

“What happened at two in the morning that you got hurt,” he pulls up a chair sitting in front of you. 

“I was taking a bath and slipped.”

“Yixing are you okay if I go real quick. I need to do something,” Sehun says speaking up. 

“Yeah I’ve got her.”

Yixing ever so gently reaches forward taking your wrist in his hand. You can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips as he moves your arm. Your eyes are glassy from the pain as you look up and watch as Sehun leaves the room. You take a deep breath whimpering from pain as Yixing examines your wrist. 

“What did he do?” Yixing asks as he gently rotates your wrist. 

“He didn’t do anything. He startled me and I slipped. It’s not his fault,” you sigh. 

“He clearly doesn’t think that,” his eyes are locked in your wrist and he’s seeing how much you can move it. 

“Are you a doctor?” You’ve been extremely curious about Yixing's medical background since he removed the bullet from your arm and stitched you up the night you lost your brother. 

“You could say that,” he leans back in his chair locking up at you. “I went to medical and everything so technically I’m a doctor, but I never worked in a hospital or anything like that. I went to medical school so I could keep Junmyeon and the rest of the group safe.”

Knitting your eyebrows together you attempt to process the fact that he went through eight years of medical school so he could keep the gang he’s a part of safe. 

You watch as Junmyeon walks into the medical room with Sehun right behind him. 

Junmyeon has an unreadable look on his face as he walks towards you quickly. Sehun is still wearing the same guilt ridden expression. 

“Myeon, she's okay,” Yixing says before Junmyeon can even ask. 

“What’s wrong?” Junmyeon asks. 

“It’s not broken. It looks like she sprang it. I’ll wrap it up and she’ll be okay,” Yixing walks over to the cupboard and pulls out some bandages. Junmyeon stands there intently watching as Yixing wraps your wrist. You can’t help but wince and he moves your wrist around trying to wrap it properly. 

“Yixing and Sehun I need a moment with her.” Junmyeon’s voice is firm as he speaks to his men. 

“I’m going back to bed boss. If you get in too much pain or anything don’t hesitate to get me,” Yixing says looking over at you. 

Sehun looks void of emotion as he looks at you before walking out of the room behind Yixing. Your chest tightens as Junmyeon moves so he’s sitting in the chair Yixing had been sitting in.

“What happened,” his voice sounds so unsure. 

“I fell because I’m clumsy,” you look down at your wrist that is now wrapped in a white bandage. 

He pushes his fingers through his hair and lets out a sigh, “Sehun said he hurt you. That you fell because of him.”

“I startle easily now. This isn’t his fault,” you hate that Sehun blames himself for this. This is by no means his fault. Even if he hadn’t startled you there was a good chance you would have slipped on the marble floor. 

“Did you yell at him?” you ask looking up at him. Your eyes are glassy as you try not to cry. Your emotions seem to be running extra high tonight. 

He shakes his head, “I wasn’t going to yell at him until I talk to you. I didn’t think he was foolish enough to do anything to actually hurt you.”

“Please don’t yell at him. This isn’t his fault, Sehun has done nothing but look after me.”

He nods his head and reaches his hand out holding it right in front of your hurt wrist, “can I see?” 

Placing your hand in his he doesn’t move your wrist or anything he just stared at it with an intent look on his face. For a ruthless mob boss he’s extremely gentle when it comes to you. 

“I thought the bath was supposed to help you relax?” He raises his eyebrow looking up at you. 

“It did. Thank you for getting me that bath stuff. Sehun said you had some of the guys get stuff that would help make me feel at home.”

He still holds your wrist as he gives you a soft smile, “your world was ripped apart that night and I want to make this place feel like a home to you.” His smile falters as he takes a breath, “that night I didn’t expect for you to willingly stay here. I was worried you would think I’m holding you captive.”

You never realized that he was worried you wouldn’t stay. That night he talked to you and he just informed you he lived here. He didn’t ask, he just said he needed to protect you. 

“Do you feel like I’m holding you captive,” he looked sad as he asked a question you weren’t prepared for him to ask. 

You shake your head. You knew if you wanted to you could leave. One of the boys would be by your side, but you could leave. 

“I’m not here against my will. I want to be here,” you state. “I don’t feel safe unless I’m here.”

His breathing is low as he focuses on you, “I’m sorry you got hurt. I’ll talk to Sehun later about it.”

He starts to stand up and quickly you say his name and reach for his hand with your good hand. He stops and turns to face you. His lips are pursed together for a long moment as he just stares at you, “thank you for protecting me.”

“It’s my job to protect you,” he looks down at your hand that is holding his wrist. 

“Please don’t yell at Sehun. I promise this isn’t his fault. I know you’re probably mad at him, but just know he feels bad enough without you punishing him for it.” You know this isn’t your place to tell Junmyeon what he does to his men, but this involved you and you couldn’t handle Sehun being in trouble for something he didn’t do. 

You release his hand and he walks over to the door pushing it open. He calls Sehun’s name and your bodyguard slowly steps inside. You can’t help but notice during all of this he’s still opted out of wearing a shirt, but you do notice that he now has his gun tucked into his waistband. 

“Sehun don’t let it happen again,” Junmyeon places his hand on the younger man's shoulder. 

“Yes sir.”

The exchange between them is so formal. It's a reminder that even though Junmyeon is kind to you, it’s easy to forget what he does for a living. This exchange reminds you that he is indeed in charge of the men that live in this compound with you. 

“YN, please be careful. If you need anything happens again come to me first.”

His words must feel like salt being rubbed into an open wound for Sehun. He closes his eyes taking a deep breath before nodding. 

You want to cry at the fact that the defeated look that plays across Sehun is your fault. You should have just gone to bed, you shouldn’t have taken the bath attempting to relax. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper with your voice shaking. 

He takes another deep breath, “you have nothing to be sorry for. This is my fault.”

Closing your eyes you push back the tears threatening to fall. Standing up, you walk past the wounded looking Sehun. Walking down the hall you hear footsteps behind letting you know that he’s right behind you. Stopping at your door you turn to find Sehun stopping by his door.

The hallways feel small as you stare at each other for a long moment. Things between you suddenly feel different and you wish you could rewind time. He doesn’t deserve the defeat look he wears as he stares at you. 

You open your bedroom door without saying anything to Sehun and shut it quickly. Leaning your body against the door you take a deep breath as tears begin to slide down your cheeks. The overwhelming feeling takes over you as you cry. Reaching up you push your tears away telling yourself to stop. 

Walking across your room slowly you lay down in your bed. Crawling into the middle of the bed that is way too large for one purse you curl up under the cover praying sleep will find you. This night has been overwhelming enough. It’s not long before your eyes grow too heavy and sleep finds you. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* the taglist is open send a message or send an ask if you would like to be tagged*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@questiontotheanswer​ @green7eababy​ @kriswu46​ @sheepish-xing​

[jim-moriarty-moran]

Starter for @bastianmybeloved.

Everything had happened too quickly, the last text, the gunshot- Jim leaving, he had gone so far away from Sebastian... for good. And he hadn't bothered to allow the man listen to his voice one last time. He'd found him, on the ground a manic smile decorating his face, eyes hollow and without life in them, but Sebastian had found a pulse, at first he'd thought he was imagining, but then he felt it again. Jim was carried to safety and operated on for days, Sebastian didn't allow the doctors to rest, he hired new ones, better ones, whatever seemed promising to save Jim. A week passed and he was still under intensive care. Sebastian didn't have a single idea what he would do if Jim left him, he couldn't live without the man, the world would be a living hell then, he had nothing before him, and now..?

Sebastian prayed to god, he never did that, always used to say religion was a useless dream for powerless people, dumb and hopeful, still he prayed and prayed and he would've sold his soul if it would guarantee Jim's well-being. The days went by and Jim finally stabilized, he hadn't woken up yet, either way Sebastian felt it was his duty to always take care of him. He got used to controlling the network by himself, it was difficult without Jim but manageable. Sebastian had Jim brought home, he couldn't go to the hospital anymore, seeing all the people around him made him feel worse, his own sleeping beauty always so beautiful even on a deathbed, it just couldn't be that this is how their story would continue. Sebastian always had wanted so much more for both of them, but at least Jim wasn't dead, yet... During the days most of what he would do was read Jim's favourite books to him hoping it would keep him safe from nightmares if he had any. Every single night he would sleep by his side, hoping that when he wakes up in the morning he'll be greeted by his old manic pixie of a man and everything will be back to normal. But that doesn't happen, this isn't a fairytale after all... this is real life.

The days go on and Sebastian has lost all hope, he was never one to think for the better in the first place. Jim is connected to all kinds of damned medical devices and he is so not Jim, he just looks so pale, even paler than usually, his frame looks more fragile than usual and Sebastian can't bear to look at him. Their usual days become this: Sebastian checking the parameters and seeing if everything is ok or if he needs to call any doctors, Sebastian reading to Jim and talking to him all the morning, Sebastian usually leaving when he accidentally catches glimpses of Jim because he can't look at the other being like... that. So unlike him. Sebastian doesn't cry because he can't, because he doesn't know how to, at first he felt rage and then he was overwhelmed with every emotion fear, pain, sadness, and now... now all he could feel was numbness. He had buried his feelings in a way Jim could never, that cold-hearted bastard had nothing to what Sebastian lacked to feel. Maybe it was just nothing, maybe he never loved Jim in the first place. Usually after Sebastian stormed out of the room, tears forming on his eyes even if he denied that, the afternoons were spent working, mending the network, taking care that every single strand of crime was perfectly connected according to Sebastian's plans. He was to take out Holmes. Not only them though. Every. Single. One. Person, that the bastard had cared for in his life. Usually after working Sebastian would get drunk and let himself pass out somewhere just to rest his thoughts a little, it was working well, except he couldn't keep on doing that anymore, he knew he would regress back to his after-discharge phase and he couldn't do that to Jim. If Sebastian returned to that he just knew-

He shoved the bottle away and showered. Not bothering much to clean the wreck of an apartment he entered Jim's room, in a total contrast it was maniacally clean, just like Jim liked it, fully deprived of life. He lye next to the small frame that looked like it could break every second and simply started crying, sobbing, finally allowing his emotions to come to the surface. With time he fell asleep next to Jim. Sebastian dreamt of a soft voice, oh so soft and he missed it so much, he hadn't heard this voice in a long time, he woke up before he got all that he needed from the dream, at least two more seconds listening to that divine voice. He felt someone move, go away from him, so he abruptly got up and saw Jim, awake! He was awake! Sebastian didn't know if he could hug him so he kept some distance, smiling for the first time in a very long time. "Jim! You woke up!" He wanted to tell him that he loved him but something was wrong, very wrong. Jim was staring at him like Sebastian was a stranger, it was mixed with fear? and also panic? What was this? Another one of the sick jokes? Sebastian's smile dimmed but didn't go away yet, he attempted to lay a hand on Jim's shoulder to reassure him or just maybe shake him so that he came to his senses but didn't, because Jim moved further away from his reach.

Sebastian moved away from the bed, clearly he was unwanted, but had to give it a last try. "Jim? It's me? Your Sebastian? What's wrong?" He didn't know what to do, and the other's response made it even worse, eyes prive of the mad sparkle Jim always had in them, prive of beautiful malice, prive of the hunger for power, prive of anything that Jim ever might have felt for Sebastian looked at him, afraid and doubting. "I- I'm not Jim, I'm Richard." Sebastian was getting more and more angry at this game of Jim's, after all if he didn't want him than to hell with it just say it out loud. No, no, no, this, whatever it was it felt worse. The line of thought was interrupted from the pale man speaking again: "You said your name was Bastian right? Who are you?" His world ceased to exist, seemingly Jim had gotten tired of him and now was to torture him until he leaves. He swallowed the tears and kept them inside. "Sebastian, sir. I'm your employee." After a few more moments of silence he stormed out of the room, thoughts overlaying with each other, getting all mixed up, making out the worst. He saw the mess around and Jim- Jim should just shut up about it, nothing mattered now that he didn't have him. A fucking messy apartment? Well the other could get as much angry as he wants and hopefully he will get rid of Sebastian for good in the process. He returned to the man, already very tired with everything. "Sorry sir, I had to check something, how can I help you? If you don't need anything I'll leave you be." He looked at his Jim, pleading him to stop all this, a storm raging inside of him threatening to get out and destroy everything on its path.

[365days365movies]

January 20, 2021: Taken (2008)

Well, I know one thing about this movie. He’s gonna find ‘em. And he’s gonna kill ‘em. And also, Luc Besson didn’t direct this movie! Yeah, my bad, he wrote this movie. But, then, he also wrote Leon, so I wasn’t entirely wrong. Anyway, 2008!

I remember this year well. Obama was elected the first Black president of the United States of America; the Olympics took place in Beijing, months after a massive earthquake in Sichuan; the Large Hadron Collider was totally gonna make a black hole; and, of course, the most important news event of that year: Iron Man and The Dark Knight came out.

And of course, the film Taken came out, creating what is arguably the most repeated film meme ever. Or, at the very least, it’s WAY up there. It’s a 12-year old meme at this point, but lemme tell ya: this thing was HUGE in 2008. Not the movie itself, just the meme. And I could lie and tell you that I’m watching this movie because it’s another French action thriller, and it’s fitting, but…

...it’s the meme. It’s 100% the meme, I’m not gonna lie to you guys. So, uh...yeah, Taken, let’s do this. SPOILERS AHEAD!

Recap

Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson) is dreaming of his daughter and wife. In the modern day, he brings a birthday gift to his daughter, Kim (Maggie Grace), and his bitter ex-wife Lenore (Famke Janssen), who is married to a very wealthy man, Stuart (Xander Berkeley). Bryan, meanwhile, is a recent and comparatively poor retiree, whose friends come over for a night of drinks.

Retiree from what, you ask? Well, it’s likely the CIA, given that his friends refer to military missions and Langley. They invite him to join security detail for a pop star, Sheerah (Holly Valance), In the process, he saves her from crazed fans, including a knife-wielding assailant. Not sure why that guy wants to LITERALLY STAB HER, but somebody needs to look into that guy!

Out of gratitude, Sheerah gives Bryan some references to give to his daughter, who wants to be a singer, apparently. However, when he sees her and Lenore the next day, all she wants from him is permission to go on a trip to Paris with her friends. When he shows his doubts for her safety, she’s upset, and his wife berates him for...government and military service? I mean, that stuff breaks up marriages, of course, but GODDAMN, Lenore’s bitter about it! Whoof.

Bryan’s definitely being made to be sympathetic, while Lenore’s the opposite of that. And Bryan’s understandably worried about his daughter’s safety, as she’ll be abroad. And we get the idea that Bryan’s a bit of a helicopter parent, but...c’mon! He’s underage daughter is asking to go to Paris with her friends! It’s cause for a parent to be worried, and yet Lenore is like, “She needs to be freeeeeeeeeee!” And that’s made even WORSE by the fact that both of them lie to Bryan, a father who clearly loves his daughter, because she’s actually following U2 on a music tour around Europe!

Which...really? U2? Who the hell can stand that much Bono, for their ENTIRE EUROPEAN TOUR? Anyway, what I’m saying is, Lenore sucks, and I’m not Kim’s biggest fan either. But I get the feeling that, given the one thing I know about this movie...Bryan’s gonna be proven right. So Kim and her friend, Amanda (Katie Cassidy) go to Europe, alone, despite Bryan’s understandable misgivings. 

They IMMEDIATELY get hit on by Peter, a French boy who gives them a ride. He invites them to a party, Amanda accepts for them, and this is OBVIOUSLY A BAD IDEA. That’s even further confirmed by Peter making a mysterious call, telling the other person about the girls’ location. Kim doesn’t call Bryan, as promised, and Amanda is clearly a TERRIBLE influence. Looks like Bryan was completely right to be concerned, if his daughter’s gonna be so irresponsible. Oh, also because they’re about to get kidnapped.

Luckily, Kim had called Bryan just before, after realizing that he had called her, and he guides her through the upcoming kidnapping. With his help, although she gets kidnapped, Bryan is able to figure out that the kidnappers are Albanian, and that one of them is a six-foot tall bearded man with a moon and star tattoo on his right hand DAMN THAT’S OBSERVANT. But still...she’s been Taken.

Someone picks up the phone...and he says the speech.

Had to do it, folks. It’s the most iconic scene in the film. Time for action! Bryan calls a friend with Langley connections, then goes straight to Lenore and Stuart’s place, who find out that BRYAN WAS FUCKING RIGHT GODDAMMIT HOW DO YOU FEEL NOW 

 Having COMPLETELY FUCKED UP, Lenore asks Bryan to get her back safely. They actually figure out that the men who kidnapped her are professional sex-traffickers, who specialize in kidnapping travelling women and putting them in prostitution. But they tend to disappear...within 96 Hours. That’s how long Bryan has to find her, as well as being an alternate title for this film!

The time limit, by the way, is a common construct for the action-thriller. You know, “she has 12 hours to live,” that kind of deal. Thrillers are going to be peppered throughout this year, and there are a few coming up as well, so might as well start with this one, right?

Bryan flies to Paris, then makes his way to the apartment, tracing Kim’s steps up to her kidnapping. He also finds her destroyed phone, alongside an SD card with photos. From this, he gets a blurry look at Peter. I get the feeling that his face isn’t about to look much better. Speaking of, Peter’s playing his old tricks at the airport, and is caught by Bryan. Painfully caught. After Bryan fights off another guy, and chases Peter up a road, Peter also gets caught by karma.

80 hours left. Having exhausted options, Bryan meets an old contact, Jean-Claude (Olivier Rabourdin), who tells him where the Albanians hang out. He hires an Albanian translator, then heads for a prostitute-heavy area. He harrangues a prostitute until her manager comes out, whom he puts a small microphone on. With the translator’s help, he discovers that they’re having “merchandise problems” at a construction site. 

Following a hunch, he makes his way there, and sees several drug-addicted young women in a makeshift brothel. Also there is his daughter’s jacket. The prostitute that has it, however, is not exactly cognitively sound at the moment. So...she’s Taken. By Bryan, who fights his way out of the brothel and construction site, with gunshots, explosions, and car chases along the way.

Bryan brings the girl back to a hotel, where he somehow gets ahold of an IV and medicine, and detoxes her in the room. Which, given the time frame and other factors...seems like a very large risk to take for testimony that, let’s be honest, right not exist. Still, as this is happening, he gets a call from Jean-Claude, asking to meet.

56 hours left. After 7 people dead, a destroyed trailer, and 3 people injured (and probably stolen medicine from a hospital, let’s be honest), Bryan isn’t exactly the best friend of the French government. He escapes police custody and heads back to the hotel, where the girl is cogent enough to remember where she got the jacket: from Kim herself, at the house with the red door on the road of paradise. No, really.

Bryan gets to the house, and poses as Jean-Claude...badly. He apparently passes his bluff check, and takes advantage of a corrupt police system, and makes them give him protection money. Over the course of the conversation, he figures out that one of them is Marco. Which means that he found him. And he said that when he found him…

After that spree is done, he searches the facility and looks for Kim. He doesn’t find her...but he does find Amanda. And sadly, he’s too late for her. Turns out, though, that he didn’t kill Marko (Arben Bajraktaraj), the leader of the group. And of course not! He has some questions.

Bryan tortures Marko using electricity, and he reveals that Kim’s been sold quickly, as she is a virgin. She’s been sold to Patrice Saint-Clair (Gerard Watkins), although Marko doesn’t know where he is. And so, Bryan fulfills his promise, and electrocutes him. He then makes his way to meet Jean-Claude at his home. And, uh...that’s when he crosses a line.

...Um. Bryan shot his wife. And yeah, Jean-Claude’s clearly not on the up-and-up, but he’s not directly complicit in the kidnapping of his daughter. And yeah, he’s in Bryan’s way, but JESUS CHRIST DUDE. He officially loses the moral high-ground here for me, even if his cause is just. Jean-Claude concedes, and Bryan gets the information that he’s looking for and leaves, knocking Jean-Claude out in the process.

Bryan goes to the Saint-Clair residence, where an auction is taking place for various young women. The last of these is, of course, Kim. Having barged into a booth of one of the buyers, he forces him to buy Kim (ew). Unfortunately, he’s caught and chained to a pipe, where Saint-Clair’s henchmen are about to kill him. But, of course...

Bryan escapes and kills Saint-Clair in the process, but not before finding out that Kim’s been Taken to a boat. He obtains a car, and after a length (and seizure-inducing) car chase, gets onto the boat, which is owned by the Sheik, a man of unknown Arabic origin. And yeah, in case you were wondering, this feels very...VERY...wrong. It’s brief, yeah, but...you gave a rich Arabic guy multiple wives obtained through illegal means and made them the main villain? FUCKIN’ OOF BRUV

Anyway, as expected, Bryan kicks the asses of everybody on the boat, and finally rescues Kim, killing the Sheik in the process. The two have a tearful embrace, and Bryan NEVER LETS HER OUT OF HIS SIGHT AGAIN PROBABLY. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT BONO. THIS IS ALL YOUR GODDAMN FAULT.

Well, Bryan wins the I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG GODDAMIT award, Kim gets to go home and meet that singer from before, Lenore gives Bryan some consideration as a human being for once, Stuart stepfathers, and that’s Taken! Also, WHERE IN THE HELL ARE AMANDA’S PARENTS, A GIRL IS DEAD

Epilogue soon!

[staruplatinum]

hello, I’ve been slow with these commissions and I’m terribly sorry! this is the first of 3 Ill be posting throughout the week. This commission is for the lovely  @calamityismyspecialty ! ♡

Bruno Bucciarati x f!prostitute reader ♡

word count | 3.8K words

warnings: angst, soft smut, creampie, graphic depictions of abuse, violence. 

quick summary: reader helps Bruno escape from a sticky situation, saving his life. he decides to return the favour.

                    You couldn’t say you enjoyed your job, but you couldn’t say that you necessarily liked it either. Being a prostitute in the mafia was no easy task. Often times you were abused, tricked and involved in other illegal practices, events and parties that you really had no interest in. However, as sad as it was, it was good money, and yet despite that - you really didn’t have a choice. Your family had owed a debt to Passione long ago, so now you were forever their property. 

Despite the dirty men you had to be sold to night after night, that wasn’t nearly as bad as being “eye candy” for some Mafioso while he conducted business meetings. You were always forced to sit on his lap, in revealing clothing, and only being told to speak when spoken to. It was like you were a shell. A nobody, used only for other men’s pleasure. It wasn’t uncommon that some of these men would even take turns on you after these meetings, reducing you to nothing more than a whore. Oh- and they didn’t pay you extra, either. That was how the mafia underworld was - unfair. 

One particular warm night in Naples, as you were getting ready for another client, you overheard something. 

“I am going to kill him!” 

One of the men in the other room shouted. Now, usually you minded your own business. After all, you were just a whore in their eyes - your opinion meant nothing. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling concerned. Who did this man want to kill? Why? You could only hope that whenever this was to happen, that it wasn't going to happen while you were there. You had seen a lot in the Mafia, from drug-dealing, to flat out seeing men beaten. But murder? How could someone see that and be “okay”....

Nevertheless, you went about with your night. But the thought lingered. You looked at yourself in the vanity, admiring how well you applied your eyeliner and mascara and went on to finish the rest of your face. Before you knew it, you were all done up like a doll. For a moment, you almost felt proud of yourself and your looks. If you didn't know better, you’d surely be mistaken for a model. Too bad that wasn’t your life…

A sudden loud bang at the door knocked you out of thoughts, and you turned behind you to see a man in a dark suit staring at you angrily while adjusting the gun in his pocket. 

“Lets go puttana, you have work to do.” 

You turned your nose up and practically scowled at the thought of having sex with this man, but this was your job. Sighing, you turned off the vanity light and made your way to the door frame, where the man forced you to hold onto him as you walked downstairs. 

As you both entered the large meeting room, there were a bunch of  men you didn’t recognize. One in particular, who stood out to you was wearing a white suit with a tear-drop print on it and various gold zippers. He had the most odd hair (you couldn’t help but think!) and his eyes were as blue as the ocean. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Like always though, every man in the room had their eyes on you, mainly from lust. But the man in the white suit - you could already tell he was different, the way he looked at you wasn't from lust. It was more like curiosity and pity mixed into one.

Sitting down next to your ‘lover’ for the night (if you could even call him that) you found yourself sitting directly across from the man in the white suit, whom you later found out that his name was Bruno. Bruno Bucciarati. He was a poor boy who grew up in the suburbs of Naples with his father, who was a fisherman. Unfortunately, his father ended up dying from a drug-related incident. He was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. Knowing this hurt your heart, it was such an awful way to be brought into this life. You truly felt bad for Bruno.

Like always, you sat next to your client and kept your mouth shut while they conducted business. The men talked over and over about various things going on in Passione, be it new missions, weapon trades, drugs, etc. You, however, had no idea that Bruno Bucciarati was against nearly all of these things and that is the reason why your client wanted to kill him. As the night proceeded on, things started to get more tense in the room you were in and you started to wonder if tonight was even going to end well for anybody. Almost every man in the room had a gun on him, and you started to worry. Soon, Bruno stood up asking to excuse himself. The others agreed, and as soon as he left the room you could hear everyone else talking about the easiest way to assassinate him without his team being involved. Oh no. Your heart began to race, and you sat up from your chair, asking for permission to use the washroom. 

Your client complied with your wishes, and you hurriedly got up to leave the cigarette-smoke filled room. It took you a moment, but once you were out of everyone’s sight you finally had a moment of peace in the hallway - and that’s when you saw Bruno. 

You tried to avoid eye contact, thinking it was awkward. Afterall, you really didn’t want him thinking that you were following him - even though you were. In reality it was all to help him in the end. You turned to look in one of the hallway mirrors, decorated with fake plants, as you pushed your hair behind your ear. You took a moment to breathe in before turning around to face him. 

Bruno stared at you for a moment, but his eyes never left your face. Unlike most men, he didn’t check out the tight black dress that fit all your curves perfectly and showed off your cleavage. Bruno wasn’t like that. 

“Hi…” You managed to say, voice hoarse.  It felt like it was the first time you had even spoken in the last few hours. 

Bruno smiled, reaching out his hand to shake yours. 

“Ciao” 

You smiled slightly, leaning against the hallway sideboard and shaking his hand. Though you wanted to talk with him more, this was no time for small talk. Yet you couldn’t stop the words leaving your mouth. 

“I um.. I like your suit!” you said happily. 

“Grazie, Bella. I like how well done your hair is. Did you do it yourself?” Bruno asked.

Again, you were shocked by him. You were sure he wanted to compliment your dress, but it was awfully nice of him to compliment something else.

“Yeah.. I um.. Always do my makeup and hair.”  a pink blush began to form on your face, ad Bruno leaned closer to you, admiring your features. If anyone else came in, they’d think it was a scene straight from a movie. The way you two looked at eachother was no different than a couple who was in love.  As much as you wanted to lean closer, and perhaps kiss him, a sudden loud bang made you both jolt. 

“That was a gunshot….” you mumbled, looking up at Bruno in fear. “You.. You have to leave here. It isn’t safe.”you added.

Bruno cocked an eyebrow and let a faint chuckle escape his lips. 

“Why do you say that, Bella?” 

He was in the mafia since he was 13, hearing a gunshot was no surprise to him, yet he suddenly felt worried too, mainly for you. 

“I think the men in the other room may be plotting to kill you...” You said sternly.

Bruno was taken aback by your words. How did a girl like you even know this stuff? Were you lying? Were you being sincere? He was very good at finding a liar in a crowd, unfortunately his method for testing lies wouldn't be in his favor, seeing that you were taken by another man. He had no idea, however, that your situation was exactly the opposite.

“I suppose that’s a pretty good reason to leave then. But how can I trust you?” Bruno asked you, looking around the hallway you were in. “I’ve been in the mafia for a long time, men carry around guns all the time to assert dominance and show off. I even have one.” He added, pointing to the bulge at the side of his pants. 

“I’ve worked here for 5 years now, Signore” You said, firm with your word. “I’ve seen many meetings like this end bad. You don’t have to trust me, but please. I overheard them discussing it earlier…” 

You were practically pleading with Bruno at this point, tears welling up in your eyes.

Bruno grabbed both of your arms gently, pulling you closer to him. He studied you face, and something inside him told him that you were being genuine. There were many possible ways he could get out, and especially with his stand ability (that you knew nothing about!) he could easily get out of a sticky situation like this. Besides, if you did lead him to danger at least he knew in the end that you were in fact a liar, and not worth his time.

“Alright then, Bella. How do I get out of here?” He asked, gently caressing your bicep with his thumb. 

You swallowed heavily,  pointing behind him. 

Regretably, it was near the garbage bins but it was better than having his life lost over some stupid disagreement. “Right through there”

As Bruno nodded and let go of you, the two of you walked towards the exit you pointed to. As if on queue, from the end of the hall you heard another gunshot, and the sound of heavy chairs scraping the marble floor. The sound of mens deep voices started to fill up your senses and you knew that the meeting was “over”. They’d be coming to get Bruno any second now.

“You have to go now, I’ll distract them! Go!” you whispered.

Bruno smiled at you and grabbed onto your hand. “Wait!” he shouted. “I never got your name?”

“It’s Y/N.” 

Bruno thanked you for saving his life. He had asked you for one last thing, which was your phone number. If he were anyone else, you would have said no. But something about Bruno made you want to see him again, and so, impulsively, you wrote your number down on his hand before shoving him out of the door. 

Just as you did that, the men you were with caught up to you. You fixed your dress, pressing down any seams and pretending to fix your hair as they made their way to where you were. They were quite stupid, and luckily they didn’t even suspect that you were helping Bruno. To them, they thought that you had just went to the washroom like you had asked. If they knew the truth, you would have surely been beaten, or worse. Exactly as you suspected, as soon as you returned to your seat you could hear the men arguing over how Bruno escaped. The tension in the room was high, and you wanted to leave. But you couldn’t. After all, you were still sold to this man for tonight, and you had to follow through with your promise…

The thought of Bruno calling you was the only thing that kept you going. He was your only hope.

__________

              Two weeks had passed since you last saw Bruno, and only a week prior to that did the men realize you had been the reason for his escape. Security cameras could be a bitch… and you paid greatly for that mistake. Your black eye and bruised arms showed for it. Still, there was no word from Bruno. 

You sighed heavily as you stared outside your bedroom window, a single tear rolling down your face. Today was Sunday, the only day you ever had to yourself from this wretched business, and as you watched the people walking amongst the streets of Naples, you felt so lonely inside. If only your life was different. You could have been married; possibly to someone like Bruno! If only.. 

From your apartment door, you heard a knock. “One minute.” you sighed as you slid on your housecoat and slippers and walked to the door. You made sure to keep the chain-lock on, since lately men were forcefully bringing themselves to your apartment. They had to make sure you were going to “pay” for letting Bruno escape. As you pulled the door open, you hid your left eye behind the door, not wanting anyone to see. You were shocked to see that the man at the door was Bruno. 

“Ciao, Y/n. May I come in?” Bruno asked, a genuine smile on his face. 

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t safe, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him go again. Nodding, you undid the chain-lock and let him inside, keeping your head down in shame.

As Bruno entered your apartment, He could see how clean it was, yet despite that, the place was really run-down. His heart hurt seeing this. He turned to you, and gently lifted your chin up so that your eyes met with his. 

He gasped.

“y/n! What happened? Who did this to you?!” He practically shouted. You had no idea, but in those two weeks Bruno was ‘gone’, he had done research on you. He knew exactly why you were a prostitute, that it wasn’t your choice, and he knew all about your debt to Passione. He knew about the men you were with and how awful they treated prostitutes, as well as how badly you had to pay for saving him. Needless to say, he was furious. 

“It’s nothing, I just-” You were cut off by Bruno silencing you. 

Bruno’s soft hand groped the left side of your cheek, his thumb gently caressing the dark purple spot that formed under your eye. You weren’t used to such sweet affection. In fact, you couldn’t even remember the last time anyone treated you this nicely. You allowed yourself to relax, and you leaned into his touch - using your hand to caress his forearm.

Bruno looked down at you, smiling. 

“Let me take care of you, Bella.”

Those words were all you needed to hear. It was almost as if Bruno saying this was enough to fix all your problems. Though it wasn't true, it was still nice to believe so..

Bruno leaned down and kissed your lips passionately. He didn’t waste any time in asserting his dominance by running his tongue along your teeth ; asking for entrance and engulfing your mouth in a warm, erotic kiss. You gladly complied, letting him take control. The two of you made out passionately for several minutes until you felt his hard cock straining against his suit pants. You smirked a little, realizing where this whole situation was headed and you gently pushed him off of you. 

“Bed..?” you asked curiously. 

Bruno just nodded, and before you could even take a step further, he picked you up bridal style and brought you over to your bed, laying you down gently. 

You sat up, removing your slippers and housecoat - leaving you only in your gown - and you slid down the sheets, onto your knees.

“What are you doing?” Bruno asked, as he removed his suit top , tossing it to the side.

“I- um… about to suck your dick?” you replied, not sure if you should state it as a fact or a question. 

“No” Bruno said. “You have been treated like shit for the past 5 years of your life, all because of a stupid debt. It’s not fair that this has to happen to you. Please, let me take care of you, and you’ll be free from this place.” 

Hearing his words nearly made you cry - but now wasn’t the time. Both of you wanted to have sex with each other, and that is how your night should go. Pillow talk can come later. Little did you know, that Bruno had already arranged for his gang to wait outside so that they could all rescue you. You see, the men you worked for were ranked lower than Bruno’s position in the mafia. And even though they wanted to kill him, It would be quite a hard feat considering they’d have to get through multiple stands to lay a finger on Bruno, or you.

Bruno undid his belt and pulled his trousers down, revealing his hard cock in his pants. He pushed you on your back onto the bed gently and pulled down your white-lace panties. You tried your best to relax, seeing that this hasn’t happened to you for years. 

He leaned down, cupping your thighs and leaving light kisses up them as he pulled your core to his face - finally pressing his lips to your wet folds. He began to lick slowly and kiss you - almost in a teasing way! You were sure that just from his light treatment, that you’d cum instantly. But Bruno didn’t want the fun to be over just yet. 

Bruno continued his actions, licking between your folds, sucking your clit and swirling his tongue around, while adding two fingers inside of your core. His fingers curled upwards and he pressed against you g-spot over and over as he ate you out. 

You let out a soft moan, gently pulling on his hair. 

“OH! Bruno…” 

You bit your lip as you felt heat pool in your core, and before you know it you were arching your back in pleasure. Your eyes saw white as your thighs trembled, trying to ride out every last second of your orgasm. Boy, was Bruno good with his tongue.

When he finally pulled away, he licked your juices off of his fingers, smiling as he did so. “Just as I thought, you aren’t a liar after all.” he chuckled. You, however, were still too caught up in your post-orgasm to even acknowledge what he had said.

Bruno laid on top of you, kissing you slowly again. His hand traveled from your sides, down to you legs, where he gently spread them for him. You didn’t even realize he had taken off his underwear. When did that happen? Was he so good that you lost track of time? You looked into his beautiful-blue eyes, filled with lust and admiration, you grabbed his cock, lining it up with your entrance as he slid into you. 

His brows furrowed at you hot tightness. He was big, bigger than most men you had slept with, but the stretch felt nice. It was like he fit you perfectly. He began to thrust slowly before increasing his pace. As nice as he was being, he was still a man and the only way to chase his release was to fuck you fast, which he did. At least he was fucking you in a more intimate position! Most men just took you from behind, forcing your face into the bed sheets. 

Bruno slid his hand up to your breast, gently cupping it before taking it into his mouth and sucking on your hardened nipple. The way his cock was hitting your walls was making you moan in pleasure, you couldn’t believe how good it felt. 

“Bella, you feel so good. So hot and tight for me” He moaned out, holding your hip as he thrust into you again. He bit his lip as he watched your breasts bounce in unison with his thrusts, and the slight bulge that purged at your naval region, showing just how deep he was going. You could feel him hitting your cervix. 

Bruno fixed his position and kissed you passionately once again. Only pulling away to compliment you once more.

“It’s like your pussy was made for me and only me, cara” he hissed through clenched teeth as he fucked you faster and harder. You could only moan in response. 

Bruno angled his thrusts just right, hitting that special spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“I-Im gonna, cum!” You shouted, scraping your nails gently down his back. Bruno smirked. 

“Already? Is my cock that good that you’re already going to cum?” 

You nodded in response. 

“Yes it feels so good!! I have never been fucked like this before..” 

That sentence itself was extremely hard to even say clearly. 

You can tell by how erratic his thrusts were getting that he was close to cumming soon, as were you. You kept moaning with every thrust, biting your lip each time you got close to cumming since you wanted to time it just right. Bruno leaned down and kissed your forehead, his blown out cerulean eyes gazing down on you. 

“Look at me when you cum, dolcezza. I want to see how beautiful you look.” 

His words were enough to throw you over the edge, and your walls spasmed against his hard cock once more, riding out your orgasm again. You looked at bruno as long as you could before you arched your back again, and moaned out his name in pleasure.

The feeling of your tight walls squeezing Bruno was enough to make him cum as well, and he did. He finished inside of you, moaning your name as he painted your walls and cervix white with his cum. 

Truth be told, you couldn’t remember the last time you had an orgasm, let alone two! You needed a moment to breathe and relax, as did Bruno.  His hips slowly faltered and he pulled out of you, watching as his cum  leaked out. You stroked his hair lovingly, looking into his eyes.

“Thank you.” You said in a faint tone of voice. 

“For what?” Bruno asked as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I told you I am going to take care of you. You will never have to worry again from now on. I promise” 

Your eyes watered as you heard his words, and you couldn’t help but let a few tears fall. Bruno wiped them away with his thumb and he kissed you once more, faltering when he saw the deep bruise that covered your left eye. 

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

[siren-queen-imagines]

Never Ending

Alright @operation-spot. You gave me free reign so I got your Billy request right here! I truly hope you enjoy it!!

There’s mentions of a little Frank Castle x Reader so look out for that! 

Masterlist

(gif by me)

=================================

You ran a hand through your hair as agents practically raided your apartment. The anxiety crept in as they made a mess of things and everything was happening left and right...so much was going on.

Just a mere moment ago, Homeland Security Agent Dinah Madani led her team into your home in an effort to search for your fiance or anything that could tie him to his whereabouts. At least that’s what was said when you were presented with the search warrant.

It wasn’t until after all of that, you were brought down to the field office and put into a room with a camera and microphone. You were left alone in the big, empty room that looked almost like a conference room for a while, wondering what the hell was going on.

“Y/N Y/L/N? I’m Agent Madani with Homeland Security I have a few questions about your fiance, Billy Russo.” Madani said as she entered, a confident but firm tone to her voice.

“What’s going on with Billy?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“It’s funny, I had no idea he was engaged.”

“It wasn’t something he or I went around talking about. Billy’s made some enemies with Anvil so we kept it on the down low. Plus Board of Directors at my job are pretty stuck up and even though it’s legit work, they’re very anti-violence and as of late, Billy’s company has been in the line of fire, so...” 

Madani paused and sighed to herself. Yeah because this is exactly how she wanted to spend this interview. Fucking Billy Russo…

“Then there’s a lot we need to go over.”

=================================

You sat in the backseat of the car, staring down at your engagement ring as some DHS Agents drove you home. Billy was...he was a monster.

How in the hell did you not see it? Everything he’s done was under your nose the whole time and you had no idea? How fucking stupid were you? You hoped Billy had a good laugh when he cheated on you with Madani...when he helped and worked for this Rawlins guy and he killed for him. When he helped to facilitate the murder of Frank Castle’s family...the same family that the both of you had considered a second family besides each other.

Or at least you did.

You had gotten to know for a fact that Frank was alive. Banged up for the most part but alive. At least of everything, Madani gave you that. He was supposed to be headed out of the city but you knew Frank better than that. He would finish what he started and that was to kill everyone that had anything to do with his family’s death.

He would have to kill Billy.

Honestly, underneath all of the anger and hatred, there was still a part of you that loved Billy. It was something you couldn’t just erase. You weren’t sure you would be okay with Billy’s death. As much as he had it coming, you didn’t know if you could just let him die.

As you glanced out the window, you turned to see that the car pulled up in front of your building.

“Thanks.” You said to them before getting out of the car.

You headed back to the same apartment you shared with Billy. You opened the door and glanced around the messy apartment. Maybe you should pack a bag and go stay elsewhere for tonight before you looked into possibly moving out.

You closed the door behind you and headed to your bedroom, getting started on packing when a hand clamped down over your mouth. You began to scream as you felt yourself being pulled backwards against a body.

“Shhhh...shh shh shh shh.” A voice whispered into your ear, causing you to stop. “Y/N. It’s me.”

Billy took his hand off your mouth and let you go. Immediately you turned around and pushed him, hard a few times. He barely moved an inch but he let you do it.

“You son of a bitch! How could you?! How could you do this to me?! To Frank?!” You yelled at him, your voice breaking with each word.

“I know and if you behave, maybe I’ll explain everything.” Billy told you after you stopped. “But I need you to get this bullet out of my arm.”

That’s when you noticed the blood on his upper right arm. You shook your head, wiping the tears away.

“Why should I do that? I should just let you bleed to death.”

“Come on, you and I both know it didn’t hit anything major enough to do that.”

“If you give me anything to help you with it, what do you think I’ll make sure you do?”

Billy laughed, smiling at you after he finished.

“We both know you wouldn’t do that, ain’t that right, Doc? That would be against your hippocratic oath? Or, knowing you, you love me enough to not kill me.”

“Fuck you, Billy.”

“Then how about this?” Billy pulled the gun from his lower back, pointing it at you. “That reason enough for you?”

You chuckled humorlessly as you glared at him, passing by him to grab your med bag from the closet. You stepped in, looking for the gun that was kept near your bag.

“You won’t find it in there.” He told you, showing you the shotgun with his spare hand, tossing it onto your bed.

You angrily grabbed your med bag and motioned for him to follow you to the table in the dining area. You opened it up, putting on a pair of gloves and getting everything set out and ready.

“Might as well enjoy this while it lasts because most likely I’m gonna be out of a job tomorrow.” You said pointedly.

“Why?” Billy asked as you began to cut the cloth covering his arm and how stopped pointing his weapon at you. “You didn’t do anything.”

“But you did. It’s all politics over there and after the shit you pulled, no hospital is gonna want the fiance of Billy Russo. Anywhere. So thanks for that.”

“No one knows about us.”

“But they will now that the cops do. Someone’s gonna leak it to the press soon if it hasn’t happened already.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t get to say that.” You told him as you cleaned up his wound with some peroxide. “You’ve been lying to me for a long time, Bill. Your sorries mean shit to me at this point.”

“I know what happened with Madani--”

“It’s more than that. I can handle and live with you cheating on me. But Frank’s family? That--that--how could you do that to him? He was our family.” Your voice shook again. 

You took a moment to calm and steady your hand as you held the forceps in your hand.

“I did it for us.” He told you.

You glared at him for a moment before you choose then to dig into the gunshot wound with the forceps and you were not gentle. Billy let out a grunt in pain, pointing the gun back at you.

“Don’t do that again.” He warned you.

“So what, you’re gonna shoot me? Kill me too? Like you killed Frank’s family? At least with me, I’ll know it’s coming.”

“Shut up. Don’t--don’t say that.”

“You said you did it for us. That’s bullshit and you know it. You did it for you because you know I would never be okay with this. You knew I didn’t need money to be happy with you.”

You finally managed to get a grip of the bullet and you pulled it out of him, putting gauze over the wound. 

“But it didn’t hurt, right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You sure didn’t hate the money we’ve spent together.” He then motioned to the engagement ring on your finger inside the glove. “Including the ring.”

“I loved this ring because it came from you. You told me you designed it and that was all before I found out it was bought with blood money so screw you for accusing me of being shallow.” You grabbed his hand and put it over the gauze as you went to grab a needle and thread. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? Money and whatever else came with it like titles, power...women including Madani, right? Who knows how many others. You sold out your brother for materialistic bullshit. How did you sleep at night?”

“Most nights? Next to you after I fucked you into our mattress.”

You stopped what you were doing and sighed out loud. Low blow, Russo. 

“You know the entire drive home I wondered how...how I could have allowed myself to fall in love with you. Ever. You had your good moments. I thought we were happy but now I see it...you’re a monster who cares about nobody but himself. Not even me after all this time. And the worst thing?” You began to stitch him up. “I still do love you. Deep down, I fucking love you. But I don’t know you. I never really did. Looks like I more or so love the idea of you.” You finished stitching him up, cutting the remaining thread. “Of who you made me believe you were. Shame on me, huh?”

Billy just watched you as you wrapped up his arm, deciding not to say a word. He won’t admit that what you said stung. He won’t admit that not all of it was a lie. He did love you. He loved you a lot. But he knew down the line this wouldn’t have lasted; Didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy it while it lasted. He never truly believe he was built for this kind of life.

“Now what?” You asked him after you finished.

Billy pulled out a zip tie from the duffel you just took notice of. He motioned for your hands and you rolled your eyes before lifting them. He tied them together and made sure to connect it to another, confining you to the table leg. You would still be able to get out but at least it would take long enough for him to catch you.

Billy changed his clothes and continued to pack up everything he might need: clothes, money, guns, etc. You were wondering how you were gonna get out of this when the lights cut out to your apartment. You heard Billy moving around when he cut your zip tie connecting you to the table loose.

“Move.” He grumbled at you.

=================================

It’s one thing to hear about Billy killing people in cold blood. It’s another to actually see it. Billy had to drag you out by the arm and he killed anyone who was there to take him in. You had a feeling that Billy had slipped up enough for them to know where he was and bring him in. And then he blew the damn place up. Everything you owned was gone. All you had was what was on you: your phone, your license and debit card (luckily you wore pants with good enough size pockets so you didn’t have to take a purse with you earlier) and the clothes on your back.

“Here.” Billy had finally pulled the car over in front of one of the nicer hotels in the city. He pulled out a knife and cut the zip tie from your wrists. “You may think I’m a monster but I’m not gonna leave you stranded. I transferred enough money into your bank account to keep you comfortable. Should help now that you might lose your job.”

“Oh and I suppose you want me to thank you?” You asked.

“No. I know you won’t. Shit, maybe I deserve it.”

“Maybe?” 

“I really did do this for us. For a comfortable future for us...for you because I love you. And I know I fucked up. And sure, Frank’s family was caught up in the crossfire but it was all only meant to kill him. Believe me or not, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

He heard you sniffle so he looked out the windshield. He couldn’t watch you cry. He just couldn’t. Yes, he had the most terrible way of showing that he loved you and he even cheated on you but he really did. He hated that you got hurt. Billy never wanted you to find out what he’s been doing.

“You know Frank is coming for you, right?”

“If he’s still alive.”

“You know he is. A bullet to the head didn’t kill him, what makes you think whatever happened the last time you saw him did?”

Billy smiled at you, laughing. He looked over at you, his eyes watching you. You could swear you saw tears brimming his eyes.

“You know, I’m actually gonna miss this. You’ve always been so damn sexy when you’re angry.”

You rolled your eyes, opening the door to the car. Billy pulled you close to him as he leaned over, kissing you hard but deeply. You kissed him back for a moment before you came back to your senses and you pushed him away. It now just hit you that this would most likely be the last time you saw him...and you didn’t lie when you said you still loved him. You quickly kissed him once more before pulling away and getting out of the car, walking away, wiping the tears from your eyes.

=================================

You tied your hair up as you let the water run in the bath. For lack of a better term, today fucking sucked. 

Today you had to hear from the board of directors at the hospital that due to your connection with a wanted fugitive, you were suspended indefinitely which was code for you’d be fired within the week.

Today you had to see your face plastered in the media, mostly gossip magazines about your connection to Billy. 

Today you had to deal with the looks and whispers everywhere you went.

Today you had to field off calls from every single news outlet who wanted to interview you about the “elusive Billy Russo” and your relationship with him.

So yeah, today was a lot. You turned off the faucet and had begun to remove your clothes when your phone rang. Oh, who the hell was it now?

You walked over to the nightstand of your hotel room and glanced at the caller ID. Unknown Number. You weren’t planning to answer it but something in your gut told you to.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Y/N?” A low, raspy voice replied back.

“Frank?” Your heart stopped. This was a surprise. Albeit a bittersweet one.

“How you holding up?”

“As good as can be. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

You laughed softly. You really meant that.

“I wanted to call you to let you know that I’m supposed to see Billy soon.” Frank continued. You took in a deep breath and let it out. “I know you love him, but I gotta do what I need to. You understand that, right?”

“Yes. I understand. Billy made his choice. Now he has to deal with the consequences.” You choked out, earning a small sigh from the other line.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay, Frank.” 

“I know you still love him. That doesn’t just go away because you found out the truth. I’m sorry that what I’m gonna do is hurt you; that Billy hurt you.”

“Thank you. But Billy wasn’t your fault. Just uh...call me when it’s over, if you can, okay? I’d just rather hear it from you.”

“You have my word.”

“Be careful, Frank.”

“You too. I’ll talk to you soon.”

The call ended and you let out the sob you were holding in. It was going down tonight. It was gonna be tough to get through tonight but you would have to. You meant what you said about Billy needed to face the consequences of his choice. Didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell.

=================================

You had just gotten home from the store when you turned on the TV for some background noise.

“We have breaking news.” The anchorwoman on the TV said as you began to put away your groceries. “William Russo has escaped a secure hospital facility. The alleged--” You froze upon hearing the news.

You dropped the yogurt in your hand and you rushed into the living room where a photo of him was plastered onto the screen. The voices on the TV faded away as you stared at the screen.  Billy was free? How in the ever loving fuck did this happen? Secure hospital facility your ass. Your phone ringing broke through the haze.

“Hello?” You answered without checking the caller ID.

“Y/N? It’s Dinah Madani.” Madani replied.

“Madani, you’ve heard about Billy right?”

“That’s why I’m calling. He hasn’t come to see you, has he?”

“No. You should watch your back though.” You urged her. 

“You do the same. He’s bound to pay one of us a visit soon. I’ll look into getting a protective detail on you as soon as I can.”

“Thanks Madani. Be safe out there.”

You hung up the phone and glanced around your apartment. The anxiety was creeping up on you. Would he be angry with you and want some sort of revenge? 

How could this happen? Not even a full year ago, Billy wasn’t even supposed to survive or even wake up from his coma. Now he was well enough to escape from a fucking secure facility in less than a year? 

=================================

You paced your bedroom after packing, phone in your hand. You’d been debating if whether or not you should call Frank. After everything with Billy that night, Frank called you from the hospital. He relayed the fact that although he let Billy live, he wanted to make sure he lived with what he’d done by messing up his face. You understood that and a small part of you was relieved at the time because of your feelings for Billy. Hell, you’d even visited him a few times while he was comatose. You needed to see it for yourself. You’d even run into Madani and that’s how you both ended up talking things out. There were no ill feelings towards Dinah. 

You weren’t sure if you should bother Frank with any of this. Maybe you should though. Billy was dangerous and who knows what he’d do to get Frank to come out of hiding. At least you could give Frank a heads up. And who’s to say he wouldn’t figure out what happened between you and Frank?

The first month after things had died down, Frank remained in New York and you and him had spent more time together. He was the only person who didn’t treat you any differently after you had basically become a social pariah after Billy. You two were commiserating one night about his family and Billy and then one thing led to another...honestly, that night weighed heavily on your mind. The last person you ever expected to sleep with was Frank and you were sure it was vice versa. But you definitely didn’t hate it and he expressed the same on his end. He even suggested you go with him when he left New York but part of you couldn’t just yet. He left the offer open to you whenever you were ready

Okay, focus. Frank had told you to call him if you ever needed him. Right now seemed like a pretty damn good time to do so.

You sighed, nodding your head, heading into the living room because you had better service there than in your room. You let out a gasp and stopped abruptly when you saw the figure in your living room.

“Hello, Y/N.” 

That voice sent chills down your spine. It was Billy. He found you. 

“Billy.” You whispered.

“It’s good to see you, beautiful.” Billy slightly smiled, taking in your features. “It’s been a while. We have a lot to talk about.”

[mafiablogg]

Roy Albert DeMeo,September 7, 1940[– January 10, 1983) was an Italian-American mobster in the Gambino crime family of New York City. He headed the a group referred to as the "DeMeo crew", which became notorious for the large number of alleged murders they committed and for the grisly way they disposed of the bodies, which became known as "the Gemini Method".The crew committed a very large amount of murders, with the majority of them committed by DeMeo himself. Roy Albert DeMeo was born in 1940 in Bath Beach, Brooklyn, to a working class Italian immigrant family of Neapolitan origin. Anthony Gaggi, a soldier in the Gambino crime family, noticed DeMeo and told him that he could make even more money with his successful business if he came to work directly for the Gambinos. Through the late 1960s, DeMeo's organized crime prospects increased on two fronts. He continued in the loansharking business with Gaggi, and began developing a crew of young men involved in car theft. It was this collective of criminals that would become known both in the underworld and in law enforcement circles as the DeMeo crew.

The first member of the DeMeo crew was 16-year-old Chris Rosenberg, who met DeMeo in 1966 when he was dealing marijuana at a Canarsie gas station. DeMeo helped Rosenberg increase his business and profits by loaning him money so that he could deal in larger amounts. By 1972, Rosenberg had introduced his friends to DeMeo and they began working for him as well. The members of the crew included Joseph "Dracula" Guglielmo (DeMeo's cousin), Joseph and Patrick Testa, and Anthony Senter. DeMeo joined a Brooklyn credit union that same year, gaining a position on the board of directors shortly afterward. He utilized his position to launder money earned through his illegal ventures. He also introduced colleagues at the credit union to a lucrative side-business, laundering the money of drug dealers he had become acquainted with. DeMeo also built up his loansharking business with funds stolen from credit union reserves.

DeMeo's collection of loanshark customers, while still primarily those in the car industry, soon included other businesses such as a dentist's office, an abortion clinic, restaurants and flea markets. He was also listed as an employee for a Brooklyn company named S & C Sportswear Corporation, and frequently told his neighbors he worked in construction, food retailing and the used car business.

In late 1974, a conflict that had erupted between the DeMeo crew and Andrei Katz, a young auto repair shop owner who was partners with DeMeo in a stolen car ring, had continued to escalate. In May 1975, DeMeo was informed by a police officer that, as a result of this conflict, Katz was cooperating with authorities. In June Katz was lured to a place where he could be confronted. After being abducted, he was stabbed to death and then dismembered. An accomplice who helped bait Katz confessed her role, and Joseph Testa and Henry Borelli were both arrested. They would secure an acquittal at trial in January 1976.

This was the first known murder committed by the DeMeo crew, and for years it was thought to have been the first occasion where DeMeo or members of his crew had dismembered a body for disposal. In 2003, however, new information was provided to the FBI by Bonanno underboss Salvatore Vitale, who claimed that in 1974 he was ordered to deliver the corpse of a man who had just been murdered to a garage in Queens so that it could be disposed of by DeMeo. As the 1970s continued, DeMeo cultivated his followers into a crew experienced with the process of murdering and dismembering victims. With the exception of killings intended to send a message to any who would hinder their criminal activities, or murders that presented no other alternative, a set method of execution was established by DeMeo and crew to ensure that victims would be dispatched quickly and then made to disappear. The style of execution was dubbed the "Gemini Method", after the Gemini Lounge, the primary hangout of the DeMeo crew, as well as the site where most of the crew's victims were killed.

The process of the Gemini Method, as revealed by multiple crew members and associates who became government witnesses in the early 1980s, was to lure the victim through the side door of the lounge and into the apartment in the back portion of the building. At this point, a crew member (almost always DeMeo according to crew-member-turned-government-witness Frederick DiNome) would approach with a silenced pistol in one hand and a towel in the other, shooting the victim in the head then wrapping the towel around the victim's head wound like a turban to stanch the blood flow. Immediately after, another member of the crew (originally Chris Rosenberg, up until his 1979 murder, according to government witness testimony) would stab the victim in the heart to prevent more blood from pumping out of the gunshot wound. By then, the victim would be dead, at which point the body would be stripped of clothing and dragged into the bathroom, where the remaining blood drained out or congealed within the body. This was to eliminate the messiness of the next step, when crew members would place the body onto plastic sheets laid out in the main room and proceed to dismember it, cutting off the arms, legs and head.

The body parts would then be put into bags, placed in cardboard boxes and sent to the Fountain Avenue Dump in Brooklyn, where so many tons of garbage were dropped each day that it would be nearly impossible for the bodies to be discovered. During the initial stages of an early 1980s federal/state task force targeting the DeMeo crew, a plan by authorities to excavate sections of the dump to locate remains of victims was aborted when it was deemed too costly and unlikely to locate any meaningful evidence. The landfill, opposite the Starrett City Apartment Complex on Pennsylvania Avenue in the heavily African-American East New York section of Brooklyn, across the Belt Parkway, was shut down in 1985, and capped over since, all signs (and odors) that a landfill had existed gone, replaced by a parkland.

Some victims would be killed in other ways for varying reasons. At times, suspected informants or those who committed an act of disrespect against a member of the crew or their superiors had their bodies left in the streets of New York to serve as a message and warning. There were also occasions where it would not be possible to lure the intended victim into the Gemini Lounge, in which case other locations would have to be used. A cabin cruiser owned by Richard DiNome was used on at least one occasion to dispose of bodies. In the latter half of 1975, DeMeo became a silent partner in a peep show/prostitution establishment in Bricktown, New Jersey after the owner of the business became unable to pay his loansharking debts. DeMeo also began dealing in bestiality and child pornography, which he sold to his New Jersey establishment as well as connections he had in Rhode Island. When Gaggi found out about DeMeo's involvement in such taboo films, he ordered DeMeo to stop under the threat of death. However, DeMeo defied Gaggi and continued the practice. Gaggi did not retaliate, and, according to his nephew, Dominick Montiglio, the subject was never mentioned again as long as DeMeo continued making payments to Gaggi. DeMeo also dealt in narcotics despite the Gambino family strictly forbidding such activity. In 2011, former Gambino associate Greg Bucceroni alleged that during the late 1970s and early 1980s, DeMeo utilized his henchman Richard Kuklinski on behalf of Robert "DB" DiBernardo and the Gambino family's pornography establishments in New York, New Jersey, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. Here, Kuklinski would traffic illegal pornography, collect debts, and carry out contract killings.

As 1975 drew to a close, DeMeo was the subject of IRS investigations into his income. Months earlier, the Borrough of Brooklyn Credit Union had been pushed into insolvency as a result of DeMeo and his colleagues' plundering of its finances. As a result, DeMeo quit the Credit Union. Before an indictment could be handed down against him, he utilized false affidavits from businesses owned by friends and acquaintances claiming he was on their payrolls as an employee. These affidavits served to account for some of his income, allowing him to reach a settlement with the IRS.

DeMeo's sources of income, as well as his crew, continued to grow. By July 1976, DeMeo added an automobile firm by the name of Team Auto Wholesalers to his loanshark customers. The owner of Team Auto, Matthew Rega, also purchased stolen vehicles from the crew and sold them off at a New Jersey car lot that he owned. He also involved himself with hijacking delivery trucks from John F. Kennedy International Airport. His crew now included Danny Grillo, a hijacker who had just been released from prison.

In the fall of 1976, the Gambino family went through a massive change when its boss Carlo Gambino died of natural causes. Paul Castellano was named the boss, with Aniello Dellacroce retaining the position of underboss. The implications of this were twofold for DeMeo. Gaggi was elevated to the position of caporegime, taking over the crew of men Castellano previously headed. This promotion was beneficial for DeMeo, whose mentor was now even closer to the family leadership. Another advantage was that with Gambino deceased, new associates would be eligible for membership into the family. Castellano did not immediately "open the books" for new members, opting instead to promote existing members and shuffle around the crews' leaders. He also allegedly opposed the idea of DeMeo being made. Castellano involved himself in white-collar crime and looked down on street-level members such as DeMeo. Additionally, Castellano felt DeMeo was uncontrollable. Gaggi's attempts at persuading Castellano to make DeMeo were continually rejected. By 1977, DeMeo became distraught by this situation and searched for opportunities that would ensure larger returns for his superiors. By 1982, the FBI was investigating the enormous number of missing and murdered persons who were linked to DeMeo or who had last been seen entering the Gemini Lounge. It is around this time that an FBI bug in the home of Gambino family capo Angelo Ruggiero picked up a conversation between Ruggiero and Gene Gotti, a brother of John Gotti.

In the conversation, it is discussed that Paul Castellano had put out a hit on DeMeo, but was having difficulty finding someone willing to do the job. Gene Gotti mentions that his brother, John, was wary of taking the contract, as DeMeo had an "army of killers" around him. It is also mentioned in this same secretly recorded conversation that, at that time, John had killed fewer than 10 people, while DeMeo had killed at least 38. According to mob turncoat Sammy Gravano, eventually the contract was given to Frank DeCicco, but DeCicco and his crew could not get to DeMeo either. DeCicco allegedly handed the job to DeMeo's own men. DeMeo's son Albert wrote that in his final days, DeMeo was paranoid and knew that he would be killed soon. DeMeo considered faking his own death and leaving the country. However, instead he left the house one day and never returned. Albert DeMeo later found Roy's personal belongings such as his watch, wallet, and ring in his study room, and a Catholic pamphlet. In his final days, DeMeo was seen wearing a leather jacket, with a shotgun concealed underneath. On January 10, 1983, DeMeo went to crew member Patty Testa's house for a meeting with his men. That night, he failed to attend his daughter Dione's birthday party. As it was unusual for DeMeo to miss an important family occasion, his family suspected that something had happened to him. Ten days later, on January 20, DeMeo's Cadillac was discovered in the parking lot of the Veruna Boat Club in Brooklyn. DeMeo's partially frozen body was found in the trunk with a chandelier on top of it.[11] He had been shot multiple times in the head and had a bullet wound in his hand, assumed by law enforcement to be a reflexive defensive wound caused when his killers opened fire on him. There are several accounts of DeMeo's death. The task force investigating the DeMeo crew theorized that DeMeo was set up in a similar manner to how he set up Rosenberg, and that Gaggi, Testa and Senter were present when he was killed.[12] When Lucchese family underboss Anthony "Gaspipe" Casso became an FBI informant in 1993, he said that Paul Castellano had ordered DeMeo's death, but due to the DeMeo crew's reputation as hardened killers, the Gotti and DeCicco crews had been unable or unwilling to carry out the hit. Therefore DeCicco passed the contract to Casso, who knew Anthony Senter and Joseph Testa, and ordered them to kill DeMeo. In Casso's account, DeMeo was seated and about to receive coffee, when Testa and Senter suddenly opened fire on him. Nino Gaggi was not present. In April 1984, Colombo crime family soldier Ralph Scopo was overheard explaining to an associate that DeMeo had been killed by his own family because they merely suspected that he would not be able to stand up to legal charges that resulted from his stolen car ring. Albert DeMeo believed that his father was killed by Testa and Senter. The remainder of DeMeo's crew were soon rounded up and the core members, Henry Borelli, Joseph Testa and Anthony Senter were imprisoned for life after two trials that saw them convicted of a collective total of 25 murders, in addition to extortion, car theft and drug trafficking. The convictions were secured in large part by testimony of former members Frederick DiNome and Dominick Montiglio. Paul Castellano was indicted for ordering the murder of DeMeo, as well as a host of other crimes, but was killed in December 1985 while out on bail in the middle of the first trial. The murder was allegedly ordered by John Gotti, who thus became the new boss of the Gambino family.

[potterandpromises]

Plague Times: Chapter 1

Lucy downs a shot of vodka, her ration. It’s the amount she allows herself as a sleep aid, no more and only when needed. A rule she created years ago, within weeks of Rufus’ death. Anything else must be consumed in a social setting. Or at least with other people— meaning Flynn, mostly. But he’s not here, because she left him.

One mouth, almost exactly. Perhaps current events lead the dates to be emphasized. December 6th though January 4th they lived together in his new and decrepit ex-safe house, sold to him for one dollar by the United States Government after the war’s supposed end. That decision, as Lucy understands it, was half laziness, half embarrassment. An excellent outcome, and she barely had to threaten anybody.

[Read the rest on AO3]