#look at his detective looking ass who does he think he is

[doctorwhommm]

You should um you should um you should draw norton folgate like like doing anything please just norton folgate im going insane

he’s committed so many gay wrongs

(+ bonus)

[solbaby7]

Hii could I please get a neat Moscow mule with a salt rim ❤️

🧉here you go 💗💗

[ “i don’t like the way he / she looks at you” + smut + az ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

There had always been whispers about Illyrian males and the possessive streak that scorches its way through their veins. How it awakened with their first cry at birth and remains until their last breath.

You’d never thought you’d witness it firsthand.

Seeing that shift in Azriel’s features is unmistakable. The comfortable lines of his stoicism usually rests heavy along his brow bone, casting shadows along his eyes until the rich amber of his iris is stark in contrast. Even then, you’re used to seeing some semblance of warmth residing in there but the danger lingering within them now is staggering—forces the object of his surveillance to raise a hand to the back of their neck, eyes scanning the crowd for the culprit.

Az is too good to be caught though. Too skilled to be seen. A wolf that blends in seamlessly in a crowd full of sheep and he detects it immediately when another predator is present. “Who is that?”

You follow his line of sight, grumbling in distaste almost instantly when you notice that familiar tuft of curly blonde hair. “Tyson,” His brow raises at your tone, stance sturdy and arms crossed over his chest. You can feel the heat radiating off of him; briefly acknowledging the sentient shadows that nudge you in closer, partially hiding you behind his bulk. Protecting what they deemed as theirs. “—but all the Valkyrie’s call him tick.”

“Tick.”

“Yeah,” Your head nods along in confirmation, fingers hooking in the loops of your leathers to shimmy them up higher on your hips. “‘Cause he latches on like one—damn near impossible to shake.”

There’s a brief pause, a rumble of a noise vibrating through his chest like a lion in wait that rests on its haunches. Azriel’s prey drive is triggered, specially attuned to the way Tyson leans casually against a post, blue eyes trained on you while you warm up, taking time admiring the way your leathers fit like second skin. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

He’s skilled with a sword, Az notes, but that wandering eye is sure to get him killed. The shadowsinger can feel the way his fingers form into fists when Tyson’s gaze meanders down the slope of your back and settles around the generous curve of your ass. It wobbles temptingly as you practice, core tight and form stunning as all sorts of daggers are shot through the air at warp speed.

Every blade hits its respective bullseye.

You're one hell of a prize. One that Tyson so foolishly thinks he’s good enough to win.

Shoulders square, feet apart, knees ever so slightly bent. Even breaths as you line up the next blade, eying where you wish for it to land. "How does he look at me?"

"Like he wants to fuck you."

You pray he doesn't notice the way your body freezes in place, grip faltering on the hilt of your dagger. A thick swallow, throat clumsily clearing and lashes fluttering with nerves as you make a point to keep your face forward. "How would you know what that looks like?"

"Because, I want to fuck you." Thighs clench at the flippant way he says it—so casually. Like it's common knowledge. As if he hasn't just rendered you speechless and filled you full of want off one sentence alone. The smell of him engulfs you when he closes the distance, his chest to your back. Shadows teasing at the sides of your thighs like phantom palms that waste no time memorizing the new terrain. "You're holding that wrong."

"Am I?" More intelligent words are robbed right off of your tongue when he presses against you, the weight of his growing erection digging into your spine, teasing around the dimples that rest right above your ass. You can't help but lean into him, allowing him to adjust your fingers around the daggers hilt.

Never once had you thought such a simple touch could ignite this kind of spark within you. A fire that damn near burns you alive; it begins in the pit of your stomach, gnawing at organs and muscle, tearing through soft tendons and sinew in its desperation for release. "Like this, baby." His lips graze the curve of your ear, forcing goosebumps to assault your skin.

Azriel doesn't adjust a thing about your form. Instead, he openly gropes at the fat of your hips. Slides his palm possessively over the soft swell of your abdomen. Trails a hand up the crease of your breasts until a five finger grip is curling its way around your throat. "What are you doing?" You whisper, craning your neck to provide more access. Allowing the steady pressure squeezing at your jugular.

He's putting on one hell of a show.

Staring that blonde bastard right in the eye as he drags his nose along your temple, pressing his lips against your skin just because he can. "Pest control." A thick thigh nudges its way between your legs, the bulk of Azriel's body blocking you from all peering eyes but one.

Tyson vibrates with rage as Az guides your hips, dragging your clothed cunt along solid muscle until lids flutter and lips part. It's an agonizing kind of pleasure—one that's everything and nothing at the same time. Stimulating but not fully satisfying when you really crave the turgid length of his cock that strains against his leathers.

It takes a second too long to realize that he's not really doing this with your pleasure in mind.

He barely pays you any real attention as discreet shadows creep under your top to twist at taut nipples, squeezing and pulling until the heartbeat in your chest travels all the way down to your pussy.

No, he merely uses you as a pawn. Plucking and toying, licking and biting at the junction of your neck until all that can be scented on you is arousal and Illyrian. "Az, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet, sweet thing. Want him to look at you when you cum for me."

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

It was halfway through his shift the next day, just after he'd come back from lunch, that the anonymous tip came through. Dick had frozen when he heard it, but only slightly because the others were brushing it off as a prank call.

"'Blockbuster's after someone named Oracle,'" Officer Diaz had scoffed, "What a joke. Aren't kids supposed to know that their stupid prank calls clog the system? What if someone who actually had useful information had needed to call, huh?"

Dick didn't mention that that isn't how the tip system works, nor did he eve attempt to scold the officer for brushing it off, no matter how stupid it seemed. No, instead, he was stuck in his thoughts.

Blockbuster is after Oracle. Why is he after Oracle? It doesn't make sense! No one in Bludhaven, save for himself, should no who she is! Besides, he'd kept all of the attention on himself. No one was able to even think about the heroes or rogues in Gotham without him knowing! Or, so he'd thought. How does Blockbuster know Oracle's name? More importantly at the moment was who sent the tip.

There was another scoff from one of the others. Did he say that out loud? "Look, I know you're new and everything, but shouldn't you know the mean of 'anonymous'?"

He forced himself out of his head, rubbing his neck with his left hand with a fake smile. "Yeah, I do. I guess I'm just a bit out of it today."

"Well, get your head back in the game," Detective Soames snapped, hitting a file on the back of Dick's head, "File that for me, then file the rest on my desk."

"Yes, sir," Dick took the file, ignoring the snickers and snide remarks from his coworkers.

He knows he's not going to be able to fully focus on anything for the rest of the day, possibly not even until after he finds out who sent that tip and how Blockbuster knows Oracle's name.

Oracle. Dick knows she can handle herself, but he doesn't like the fact that anyone knows her name. Not even B knows about Oracle! Babs had spent so much time and energy keeping her online persona from B so that she could have at least something of her own that Dick had taken it upon himself to erase traces connecting him to Oracle. She didn't deserve to have Batman on her ass, nor did she deserve to have Nightwing's enemies go after her!

He shook himself back into the present with a soft sigh. He'll call Barbra as soon as he gets home.

***

"Danny!" Dick calls into the apartment, knowing full well that the kid is in the kitchen, "I'm home!"

"Welcome back," Danny responds from where he's standing at the stove. He, Dick realizes, does not sound happy.

He hangs his coat up on the hooks he installed beside the door, his shoes going on the rack below them. "You good? You sound a bit upset?"

"I am upset." Danny, after getting comfortable around him, has stopped sugar-coating his words, being brutally honest. Dick blinks. "I was going to message Tim, but I saw a lack of apologies from you."

Oh. Dick had meant to do what Danny said last night and apologise to that Tim kid for snapping at him, but he had been a lot more tired than usual and it had slipped his mind. "I was going to use my phone?"

"You don't have his number."

Another thing Dick had come to learn about Danny in the few weeks they'd been living together was that he can't be lied to. He somehow picks up on lies, so even Dick's best efforts - that have fooled even Batman! - are always thwarted.

"I meant to," Dick said, sitting on one of the new barstools at he island counter, "But I was really tired last night."

Danny sighed. "Because you were out longer than you're now used to." He turned the burner off, moving the pan to sit on the hotpad beside it. "You're body's gotten used to only being out for eight hours during the day and six hours at night. You going out for eight hours last night wore you out more than usual because you're no longer used to your seventeen hour work days."

Dick tilted his head, accepting the bowl of soup he was given. "But it's only been a few weeks?"

"It only takes eighteen days for your body to get used to a routine." He said, placing a bowl of homemade rolls on the island. "After about sixty-six days, it becomes habitual."

"But it hasn't been sixty-six days."

"No, but it has been twenty-one days."

He hesitated for a moment. "Has it really been only that long?" Then, "Have you been counting?"

Danny blushed, sitting beside Dick with his own bowl of soup. "I've been keeping track of your schedule, which means I gotta keep a calendar. I haven't been counting on purpose."

Dick smiled, eating the soup. As usual, it was really good. The first week of Danny's stay, he'd asked where he'd learned to cook, but Danny had given a non-answer, saying only that his parents couldn't make anything edible that wasn't fudge or cookies.

After they had both finished eating, Dick's portions and appetite being larger than Danny's because of the calories he burns as Nightwing, they settled into a nice quiet. Dick had changed from his uniform into sweats and a T-shirt while Danny had chosen a movie. Then, Dick cleaned up dinner and Danny changed into a hoodie and sweats.

"We still need to take you shopping," Dick pointed out when they were both sitting on the couch, ready to start the movie.

Danny shook his head. "Letting me stay here is already enough. Besides, your old clothes work perfectly fine."

"But you're room's so empty! And my clothes don't even fit you!"

There was a pause like Danny was thinking. Dick had the feeling he might not like whatever was going to be said next.

He was right.

"I'll let you take me shopping next week," Danny agreed, "if we go to Gotham tomorrow so that you can apologise to Tim in person."

Dick's jaw twitched. He didn't want to go to Gotham. Going to Gotham meant that he'd inevitably run into Bruce. He wanted to stay far away from that man.

Then again, he'd promised Alfred to come by some time. And, it'd be nice to see Barbra and Jim again. Maybe he could have Alfred make sure Bruce wouldn't be in the Manor?

"So?" Danny promted.

He sighed. "You're evil, y'know that?"

His grin said it all. "I could be so much worse."

"Please don't."

"Don't give me a reason."

Part 9 Part 11

[i-yap]

Batboys x quiet! reader(who is not quiet in private)

( some of the reasons for the quietness is a bit traumatic so uhh warning)

Dick grayson -

opposites attract is possibly my favorite trope ever. And that is exactly what you guys are . Not exactly golden retriever x black cat though people who didn't know you guys well assumed such .

Dick would get exhausted spending forever being charming and charismatic for even the most extroverted of people get tired when they had to manage multiple superhero teams, a detective squad and the whole batfamily.

You were silence, peace serenity almost..until you weren't. Grayson was worried about this relationship in the start, after all you guys were really different. He was afraid you were going to be annoyed by his sunshine self, and that when he isn't feeling like talking, the conversations would go silent.

But you really are so different when comfortable with someone, and its tough not to trust and drop your shield with grayson.

It took him by surprise slowly seeing you open up and show your weird side. It somehow made him cherish it more and even want to show sides of him that only you got to see.

When he asked you why you weren't like this with everyone you said " My parents had a habit of talking over me, sometimes outrightly not hearing me speak at all. No matter how loud I spoke..i wondered if they couldn't hear me...if anyone even wanted to you" "why me then?" asked dick , "you're nothing like my parents, I know you care" and he does..he really does. He won't ever let you feel like that every again. He will make sure everything you want said is heard, and if not he will burn it into the skyline

Jason todd

he appreciated it, a quiet person in public. He hated being in public, he hated the buzz the noise the push the touch of humans around him. He felt strange

till he feels you hold his knowing you felt just as strange as him. Leave the gala and walk around the library , one earphone in each ear listening to whatever you wished to play.

Pulling you close in crowded areas- was it for you or for him? Glaring at anyone who dared tease you about your quietness. A single glare usually does the job but don't worry ...other ways exist too.

He loves that when you two are alone, you are a completely different person. It makes him feel special, like he is the only one who understands you. Because you're the only one who understands him.

When he asks " well I guess I never felt like people liked what came out of my mouth.. my humour too dark, my words too dumb and I didn't make sense. So I stopped trying" don't worry about being cringe..he understands you completely

Tim drake

he is intruiged. How do you pull such a perfect facade. How does one look so poised and collected with those rich assholes and so wild and untamed with him?

He could never really perfect the act the way you did. He's seen you grow up, but somehow its like you were born with two people living in your brain.

If you're this mysterious to your childhood lover, how does anyone in the world even think that they could know you, both versions of you.

Dont get me wrong, he loved it, A mystery he never could solve, not even with your help.

" Teach me your ways master" "I remember you wanting me to call you that last night..oh no wait it was si-" "shut upp" "fine ill tell you timmy boy, I just believe those rich stick up their ass puppets don't deserve to see all ..this.." "what about school kids, friends , teemates-" "I don't need anyone to get me as long as you do"

He will never get it, even if someone engraved it into his skin he wont understand everything about you , you'll always be the case he couldn't solve.

AND WE ARE BACK BICHES , send in requests and stuff, inbox open again blah blah I'm feeling much better now but I might push angst stuff more

[ponderingmoonlight]

Realizing your true feelings for Gojo after he stands up for you

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...

Warnings: literally wrote this in my break at work so don't come for me lol, fluff fluff fluff, reader getting insulted

Oh, how much you hate the way basically everyone looks at you. Well, not technically you, to be exact. It’s rather the person walking next to you who drowns in attention every time you are forced to go out together.

Not that you’d understand the hype. Gojo Satoru, the blessed one, the honored one, the strongest fucking jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime.

“What’s wrong? Feeling left out, (y/n)?”

And probably the biggest pain in your ass.

“You’re such a whore for attention it hurts”, you bite back while rolling your shaded eyes the way you always do the second he opens his mouth.

His laughter vibrates through your body, annoys you to the core. When will this madness finally come to an end? When will they finally begin to send you onto missions with Geto, Yu or fuck, even Nanami? Why on earth does it always have to be him?

“Caught me there I guess. But it’s not my fault that I’m easy to look at. Not like you.”

You force yourself to take a deep breath in and out, to calm your tingling nerves and stop your fist from twitching. That fucker has some really good nerves. Only the sound of his name next to you simply drives you insane, let alone his stupid comments and oh too annoying voice. Is there really anything good on Gojo Satoru, something you might like?

“I hate you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Aww, don’t be like that, (y/n). We both know that isn’t true”, he purrs, ready to grab your shoulder when you yank away.

“I’ll break your fucking nose if you touch me, jerk.”

“I’d love to see you try, princess.”

“I’ve never seen you around here.”

The sudden soft female voice that interrupts your rambling catches you off guard.

There she stands, an undeniable beauty with curves in just the right places and blonde hair that looks like strands of gold. The bluest eyes, the most breathtaking smile. And of course, her gaze is fixated on Satoru.

“That’s because it’s my first time here. After all, my eyes definitely wouldn’t have miss someone like you”, he replies with that cheeky grin you know oh too well, the cheeky grin that makes your blood boil in an instant.

Really? This is probably the worst time to start a flirty conversation. You were sent here to detect a special grade curse, to save this damned city from getting scorched. But he? He has nothing but her blonde hair and delicate smile in his pea brain

“Don’t you think that this isn’t the right time for a conversation like that?”, you mumble irritably.

“We’re just having a little talk. Who are you, his girlfriend? I highly doubt that. A girl like you would never have a chance with a guy like him.”

You have to blink a few times when her sugary voice spits at you with pure venom.

It shouldn’t bother you. Why would it? Gojo is the last person walking on earth you’d be in a relationship with, the last person who would ever want you. You, with your average looks. You, being a grade 2 sorcerer who has nothing special to offer. You, who never actually allowed herself to like Gojo. You, who is nothing compared to the woman standing in front of you.

Then why do her words feel like a knife in your heart? Why are you standing there like an idiot, sunglasses barely covering your pain? Why does his presence next to you suddenly sting so badly?

“Pretty disgusting words for someone with that face. Do you really think the world belongs to you because you look good? Let me tell you something: Apart from being hot, (y/n) is also unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic. Someone as simple-minded as you should better avoid me. Now get lost, will you?”

What.

On.

Earth.

Did Gojo Satoru really stand up for you? No, did Gojo Satoru just call you “hot, unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic”? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute. A cruel storm of butterflies almost causes your guts to turn, makes you see stars. Are you dreaming, maybe? This can’t be reality. It’s impossible that-

“Hey, are you okay? I hope you don’t trust that stinky girl”, Gojo speaks out softly.

You can sense the way he eyes you up and down through his sunglasses, the little pout on his face revealing that he’s truly worried. Is that really the boy who teases you until you lose your mind completely? God, how much you hate him, how much you want to punch him into his stupid perfect face.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. But what is that little part of your brain that almost dies in excitement, then? What are those strange butterflies that never invaded you since you joined Jujutsu High?

“Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes dart upwards, get greeted by his bright blue orbs that look down at you in a seriousness you’ve never seen before.

“Tell me you don’t believe her.”

“She said nothing I don’t already know”, you reply dryly.

He shakes his head, still staring down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Who is this guy? What are those feelings? Why aren’t you able to look away like you always do? Gojo is only playing with you the way he does constantly. His bright blue orbs aren’t to be trust and you know it.

“I would choose you a hundred times before someone like her, (y/n).”

It’s like all life drained from your body, blank eyes staring at him in shock. This really has to be a dream. When was the last time Gojo has been nice to you? Probably never. He constantly teases you, drives you inane, makes you mad, makes you regret your decision to come to Jujutsu High and also…

Makes you feel save, makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel affection.

Affection? For Gojo?

“I…I have to go”, you blurt out so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet while trying to haste away.

He’s only picking on you like he always does. Gojo Satoru, considering a romantic relationship with you? You huff out loud, cheeks redden by the sheer thought of the dumb look you gave him. You aren’t better than the girls you despise so much, after all. He truly managed to wrap you around his finger like everyone else, even though you told yourself over and over to hate him.

What a pathetic jerk you are.

You spin around so fast you almost fall over, only to get caught in a pair of strong arms.

“You don’t believe me”, Gojo notes while keeping you in place.

“Why would I?”, you press out, not daring to look at him once again.

You need to get away from this cursed place, away from the honored one. It’s time to go back to normal, back to hating him with all your heart. Because this is all he is, right? Gojo Satoru is nothing but your rival…right?

“Maybe I can convince you with something else.”

Just when you’re about to protest and freeing yourself, he pulls you even closer and presses his lips against yours.

Time stands still, the lenses of your sunglasses pressing so violently against Gojo’s skin that they crack.

This.

This is the stuff your wildest dreams are made of, a dream you didn’t even allow yourself to think about. If there’s one thing that always seemed impossible to you, it was this. Why would you ever be more than Gojo’s rival, what is the purpose of seeing anything apart from a pain in the ass in him?

This right here.

Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around him as well, pull him closer and closer, take in his delicious scent. The sheer feeling of his lips collapsing into yours leaves you breathless, makes your lungs ache in the urge for air.

Until he lets go of you while panting hard, now glowing eyes fixated on you so intimidating that you feel yourself blushing.

“Believing me know?”

“You stained my sunglasses”, you breathe out mindlessly.

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[stressfulsloth]

I've seen a couple of takes about Disco Elysium being copaganda going around recently, and beyond the fact that DE is relentlessly critical of the police force in general and makes explicit reference to the failures of the system that allow the officers in game to abuse their power, I also think it's important to note that there very literally is an in-world version of copaganda that the writers of the game use to parody that romanticised view of the brutality of policing. The RCM at their inception were structurally inspired by in-world copaganda- their culture, their "fashions, even weapon preferences, borrow heavily from classic Vespertine cop shows." Every investigation is it's own little drama, every officer imagining themselves to be the bad-ass hero of their own crime serial. Detectives name their cases like they're naming episodes of a TV series in a "robust but literary system"; a title that "draws inspiration from snoop fiction and Vespertine cop show staples". They give themselves nicknames to sound like cool, suave fictional officers- Ace, Dick Mullen, etc.- from the cool, suave world of copaganda.

The legend of the RCM's inception, the "point of contention" over its uncertain origins, is even an extention of that; the whole organisation is shrouded in this self-fictionalising mythos that allows for distance that in turn obfuscates much of its violence to the officers that participate in it. They get to convince themselves that they're not abusing their power; they're the hero of the story! The dichotomy of "good guy" taking out the "baddies," a manifestation of the libertarian fantasy of the "good guy with a gun" who does what it takes, just like in Annette's detective novels, and at the same time who rails against oversight bodies like Internal Affairs/'the rat squad' because due process slows down the immediate satisfaction of Swift Justice, despite Internal Affairs existing to protect the citizens from overreach on behalf of the police. "Wanton brutality" from police in their real world is a cold bitter reality but Dick Mullen was "made to crack skulls," "bend the rules and solve cases no one else can," and which version of that story is more comforting to the overworked, underfunded officers of the RCM?

The level of fantasy and detachment required for the cops to still see themselves as the good guys after everything that they do in the line of duty mimics The Pigs and her breakdown too; she parallels Harry so clearly. Both "did right by the kids" in the past, hoping for a better future- Marianne (The Pigs) by looking out for Titus and the Hardy boys when they were young, Harry in his role as a gym teacher. Both abandoned and left behind by the system that the RCM uphold- a brutal capitalist landscape with no safety nets. Both turning the source of their trauma into a costume, a performance, a shield, shaped by "radio waves and cop shows." The Pigs uses RCM items scavenged from the Esperance where they'd been thrown away, while Harry uses the Dick Mullen hat that Annette gives him but both are essentially in costume.

Harry identifies himself with the fictional detective as a kind of wish fulfilment; Dick Mullen is "wicked smart." He doesn't fuck up his cases and when he's sad it's not pathetic; it's effortlessly cool brooding and everyone sympathises. Everyone loves him. His violence- "skull crack[ing]"- is justified because he's a "good guy" enacting that violence against the victims of police brutality sorry "bad guys". He doesn't ever face repercussions; "Dick Mullen won't be sent to the clink for the sake of some legal niceties!" So if Harry is Dick Mullen then his failures, his breakdown, they're all just a part of being a "bad-ass, on-the-edge disco cop." He's not wrong, he's a hero! This idealised fictionalised idea of the police force, this "new, sadly better, reality" that both Harry and The Pigs cling to is "escapist stuff," "receed[ing] into a ludicrous fantasy world," so far removed from the brutal material reality that they're in.

My point is, idk. Disco Elysium is so far from being copaganda. It is a multi-million word long dissection of it, of the purpose of policing, of state sanctioned violence and its interaction with capital and the fallout experienced within the wider community as well as the trauma cycle created for individual officers. A dissection of how copaganda interacts with RCM culture and perception, and by extension how we interact with irl perceptions of police through that lens.

[in-som-niyah]

hi!! i’m literally so obsessed with your work i’ve been scrolling your profile all day 😭😭 i was wondering if you could write something about jason x fem!reader getting married? mostly fluff but ill never say no to some good smut

a/n: "i’m literally so obsessed with your work i’ve been scrolling your profile all day" WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNNN STOP UR GONNA MAKE ME CRY THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME HELLO??? like wdym u like my work so much u spend so much time on my blog i love u gimme kiss

anyway this prompt is *chefs kiss* bc we all know Big Bad Jason Todd™ is such a loverboy softie but most of all he loves hard.

I think that before he met you he never thought that he would be so enamoured with someone who also feels the same way about him at the same time, that also wants to marry him??? He thinks he's too flawed and violent and abrasive for someone to even like being around him. So marrying him??? haha you're funny.

But after YEARS (yes, it takes him years of a committed relationship with you to fully trust that you actually like being with him for an extended period of time, let alone forever) of handling his emotions, outbursts and injuries with grace while still giving him a whack at the back of his head when he's being stupid, he considers marrying you.

Remember, Jason Todd is fucking scared himself, and he doesn't want to scare you off with a ring that literally promises forever with him. Though he loves you, he wants you to be happy in the end. Will you be happy with him in the end?

It takes a lot of mental and emotional strength to overcome these fears that swirl around his head.

When he does get over it though, he's so attentive yet sneaky when picking your ring. There's a luxury jewellery store on the way to your favourite clothing store at the mall, and he literally takes you to the whole mall just to pass by the store. He always looks to see what your eyes catch, what you like and don't like. Doesn't matter if he ends up spending hundreds since you're at the mall so much, he'll do it just to make sure he gets exactly what you want.

Jason also uses his extensive detective training to find out what cut and stone you want on the ring. He's ok with diamonds, but would want something more unique and personal for his love. He wants something that always reflects you, no matter the occasion.

Side note: once the ring comes he would definitely put together a photo album of pics he took of the ring in plain sight while you're completely oblivious just for shits and giggles

Finally, when it's time to pop the question, he doesn't do flashy and big productions with lights and letters and petals and stuff.

He would be dancing in the kitchen with you on a lazy Saturday, eating pancakes and bacon and when the song ends just casually asks "if I were to ask you, would you marry me?" Now he looks collected as he lovingly smiles down at you but is actually shitting himself until you say that you would in fact marry him if he asked. Then he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the most perfect, detailed, gorgeous ring you could ever ask for while properly asking you to marry him. Cue the waterworks (from both of you) and the celebratory make-out sesh.

Y'all definitely fucking the night of the proposal though

I feel like it would be realllllly possessive since yk you literally belong to him now

"tell me who this pussy belongs to, pretty girl" Knowing full well you can't answer because your eyes have already rolled back mid-stroke and you're babbling incoherently. It does, however, put a smug ass smirk on his face.

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

a/n pt2 bc i can't shut up: i hope u like it!!! i wasn't in the mood to write anything smutty but idk im in my soft era for jason i just want his stoic self to love me :(((((

[bangtangalicious]

nexus (m) part 6

pairing: jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader ft. hobi x reader, namjoon x reader, yoongi x reader

smut: taehyung x reader, jungkook x reader, some hobi x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love

genre: 18+ slow burn romance mafia elite arranged marriage murder mystery thriller

characters: detective jungkook, heir taehyung, ceo namjoon, arms dealer hoseok, bartender yoongi, doctor jimin, best friend/heir seokjin

wordcount: 6.2k

warnings: 18+ multiple smut scenes, oral (f and m), fingering, sexual tension, like a lot of sexual tension, a lot of subtle touching, grinding, kisses, possessive behavior, tsundere!taehyung, implied bipolar disorder, angstttt, betrayal, light yandere undertones, taehyung gets his first kiss...and some other things too ;) breast play, hella teasing, did i mention sexual tension idk taehyung is hot ok but hes also scary do with that what you will, declarations of love, jungkook tryna be sweet we been knew ig, as you might imagine this sets the foreplay for loads of smut in the next part LOL, its a lot of slow burn build up and evident thirsting over this taehyung okay im not sorry

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“I can’t lose you”

Taehyung’s words haunted you as you stared aimlessly at the tiled ceiling. The hospital room chilly, the smell of alcohol—the sanitizing kind, unfortunately—overwhelming your senses. There were other things you could be thinking about. Namjoon in jail. Jimin dead. Hobi betraying your trust.

But no. It had been Taehyung’s eyes that were on your mind—was it concern? Worry? Taehyung with emotions was a rare sighting. You were practically cherishing the moment.   

“It’s late”

The devil in question sat by the windowsill of your private hospital room, minding his own. Reading. Fingers bending the corners of a paperback novel as his eyes trailed over the pages with interest.

Even in the dark hue of the night, the faded moon seemed to hit his face just right.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Go to sleep” His answer was frank, “None of that matters until you get better”

“How can I not think about it?” You snapped. “Namjoon went to jail for me. Because I was an idiot and trusted Hobi. Bet my ass he killed Dr. Park too. I’m probably next. And if he murders me—you won’t get to, Tae”

The corners of Taehyung’s lips curled ever so slightly.

His uninterested eyes steady on the pages of his novel. Not bothering to glance your way.

“Have you ever considered just keeping yourself out of dangerous situations? Whatever it is you’re trying to prove…that you’re powerful, like your mother…that my family wronged you—all it does is show that you’re still their puppet.”

He exhaled sharply, a dismissive scoff that tore your confidence thread by thread, finally meeting your eyes.

“It’s pathetic”

You’d had just about enough of him. Fingernails digging into your palms.

“You’re an asshole Taehyung” You informed him. He shrugged.

“I’m honest” He countered. “And you’re not used to that. You’re used to being babied.” Finally setting his book aside, he walked up to your bedside, kneeling down until he was at your eye level.

“Now will you please sleep?”

The look in his eyes perplexed you. You couldn’t quite tell if he was annoyed, or if he genuinely cared about your health.

Deep down, you knew he was right. Everything you’d done had been to prove a point.

Taehyung rested his head on the armrest. Watching you intently, his eyes tired, dropping unconsciously.

“You’re the one who needs sleep, idiot” You muttered under your breath, letting your fingers run through his soft, wispy black hair. “Taehyung” You nudged him. He barely opened his eyes. 

“Get in here” You shifted over, giving him space. He didn’t question it in the moment, he was probably too tired. He didn’t face you. Kept a decent distance between you both.

You were paralyzed. Aware of his every breath. Aware of the way he shifted himself to get comfortable—you could sense the intention in his avoidance of touching your skin even slightly. His scent was more prominent.

“Do you miss your mother?”

His question was so quiet, you weren’t even sure it was real.

And it occurred to you then, that you’d never thought about it. That you’d never even been asked. In the chaos of your mother’s death, your move to the Kim’s and Taehyung being sent away—you barely even processed anything. All you remembered was Jin being so patronizingly worried about you—convincing you that he was all you needed. That you moving in with him would fix everything.

You blinked wildly. Trying to piece together a coherent answer.

“I liked her” A smile creeped onto his face. Or so you thought, as you turned to see the side of his face—his eyes steady on the ceiling fan. “She’d always get me hotteok”

You watched him. Inspected the mole on his neck. The curve of his cheek. The way his long lashes merged when he’d blink. The way the night sparkled in his eyes. The same eyes that would bend your will so easily.

Young Taehyung would give you one look and you’d give him the world. And he’d known it too.

It was so quiet. But your chest was beating loud in your ears.

You must have fallen asleep despite yourself. Dreaming of Jungkook had become a standard practice. This time, he was drowning. You were him, and he couldn’t breathe. You reached out to him as he screamed for you. He was terrified. Falling. Dying.

Breathe.

You tried to tell him. Swim to the surface. Breathe. Something chained him down.

Your eyes shot open.

It was dark.

You. You couldn’t breathe.

Suffocating you, the cotton tasted bitter on your toungue. You squirmed. Thrashing, trying to grab for someone—anyone. You screamed out, for what it was worth. Scratching at the strong hands that held the pillow down over your face.

Adrenaline surged. It occurred to you to kick your legs. You did.

Suddenly the grip loosened.

Taehyung was on the floor.

Panting.

Hyperventilating.

The pillow inches from his palm.

He was quivering. Eyes shot—looking down as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing.

You stared at him. Trying to comprehend. Trying to rationalize.

“Taehyung” His name left your mouth in a more accusatory manner than you meant it to. Was it a question or a plea—you were unsure. He met your eyes, and you saw fear. As if he’d been pulled out of a trance.

“I—” He couldn’t form the words. He receded into himself, moving back until he was as far from your hospital bed as he could be. Back pressed against the wall as he hugged his knees to his chest. His voice was shaking, “I don’t—”

“Were you trying to kill me?” You yelped, looking around suddenly for your phone. Grabbing it you held it to your chest, ready to call for help if he tried anything. You almost wanted to laugh—thinking for a moment that you were safe around Kim fucking Taehyung.

You should’ve known better.

Taehyung’s eyes were overcome with horror. Disgust, at himself. He looked at his hands as if they weren’t a part of his own body. Then back at you.

“Princess” He was breathless, “—I swear, I didn’t mean to. I was d-dreaming, I didn’t know”

You gulped. Your fingers curling around your phone as you tried to think.

Maybe he was telling you the truth. Taehyung didn’t know to lie to you. He was honest if nothing else.

“Come back” You let your voice soften, but your body remained tense. “Go back to sleep Tae”

Taehyung gave you an uncertain look.

You rose from the bed, the hospital gown falling loosely around your curves. Kneeling down, you met his eyes at his level. Taking the pillow from the ground, you reached your other hand out to him.

“Maybe,” You sighed, “Maybe being in a hospital is triggering for you” It was a stretch, but you needed to believe there was something. Something that wasn’t that Taehyung hated your guts. Resented you, and would go as far as to kill you in your sleep because of it.

“It is”

He confessed quietly, still not meeting your gaze.

The pout on his lips, evident.

“You didn’t have to stay”

He looked at you.

He said nothing.

“Why don’t I call Yoongi, hm?” You reasoned, “He can take you home” And then you can call Jungkook and get the fuck away from him.

The phone rang.

Jungkook groaned, shoving his face into his pillow.

It kept fucking ringing.

Knowing deep down it might be the precinct, reluctantly, he put the phone to his ear.

“Hey”

Your voice was an aphrodisiac.

He felt it straight in his chest. Awake, now. Worried, seconds later.

He rubbed his eyes, checking his phone to see how late it was.

“Y/n? Baby, is everything okay? Are you still at the hospital?”

“I’m fine.” You weren’t. He could hear the tremble in your voice, “I just sent Taehyung home. Can I come to your place?”

Jungkook sighed. “Sure. I’ll be there soon”

Perks of having a police vehicle. Traffic was never an issue for him.

Entering the hospital, he noticed Yoongi and Taehyung in the lobby, heading towards the back exit. Yoongi had his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. Seemed to be reassuring him.

Jungkook wondered what happened. You called Yoongi to the hospital so late to take Taehyung home.

He got in the elevator. He knew what room you were in. He’d been the one to bring you to the hospital, before the staff kindly reminded him he was not family—or rather, he wasn’t a Kim, and therefore couldn’t go into your room.

Then Jimin’s body was found. Duty called.

Three gunshots. He didn’t see him, but the autopsy report was eerily similar to that of his own fathers.

You were waiting at the front desk of the inpatient ward. Signing what he assumed were your discharge papers. You noticed him, eyes lighting up immediately.

Jungkook placed his calloused palm against your cheek. Your eyes were so fucking beautiful it stung him just to look at you.

“You’re okay” He breathed, reassuring himself more than anything. His voice trembled softly into a chuckle as you nodded, covering his palm with your own.

“Yeah, I’m okay” His lips neared yours, not touching, but enough for you to feel his breath scrape against your nerves.

He took your hand in his, and led you out of the hospital to his car. It was a short drive to his apartment. It occurred to him that you’d likely never stepped foot on this side of the city. The streets were narrow. Crippling houses dotted his peripheral—a faint scent of smoke through his windows.

He parked on the edge of the street, in front of an average-sized apartment complex.

“The Jeon Manor” He joked lightly.

You pouted, grabbing his hand. Fingers lacing with his.

“You know I don’t care that you’re not rich”

Jungkook wanted to scoff. But he held it back. If only you knew. If only you realized what could have been his, if it hadn’t been for—

“I don’t care where we are, I just want to be with you”

You brought his hand to your lips.

“Stop” He exhaled.

“W-what?”

“Stop saying shit like that when you won’t fucking commit”

You gulped. His stare was intense as he pulled his hand away from you, running in through his dark curls.

“Jungkook” You reached for his shirt, tugging the fabric towards you but Jungkook’s jaw hardened. He turned away. “Jungkook I’m serious”

“You won’t leave Nexus for me, you told me that. You won’t fight for me”

You tugged harder. He grabbed your wrist, harsher than he meant to. Glaring at you.

You didn’t understand. Jungkook should have known. Why would you? This was personal for you. Running Nexus was a point you had to prove, he understood that. But it was the very thing he needed you to give up. If not, then you’d never forgive him for what was coming.

“I love you”

Jungkook’s eyes clenched shut, almost out of regret. He felt tears but pushed them down.

“No.” He shook his head. Shit. He had let this go too far.

For as much as he’d wanted to hear it, it was a wake up call. The two of you couldn’t be together.

“You can’t”

Then he kissed you. His heart was erratic, breathing too. A desperate kiss, fierce with need. Your body fell limp, melting into his touch. Falling into him because he was everything and all you needed.

-

Somehow, he brought you to his apartment. Kicking the door closed.

He lifted you onto the counter, not letting you breathe—not letting you think, but fighting a sweet war with your lips. You were spinning. Losing yourself every passing second—seconds which passed so slowly as the moment consumed you.

His hands which rested on the sides of your hips, crawled beneath the hem of your shirt. Delicately they explored your skin, rising to the curves of your chest. Caressing your breast, he deepened the kiss, tongue pushing past yours, tangling together.

“Jungkook” You whimpered. His mouth slanting down your jaw, to your neck. Where he tasted your sweet skin and you arched into him. His fingers drawing across your nipples with intention, causing fire to pulse through you.

You could feel him pressed against you, hips locked. Rocking ever so slightly.

Your phone began to vibrate. Jungkook hissed in irritation, backing away as you answered the call.

“Y/n”

Your blood ran cold.

That voice.

“Run”

You could see Jungkook’s eyes narrow at you. The line went dead. You were too stunned to speak.

“Who was it?” Jungkook inquired, looking at your phone. Gulping, you shook your head.

“I-um—just remembered that I need to take care of something”

His fingers hovered over your waist. “Okay, I can drive you” You stiffened as he kissed your neck again. “Or we could go after 20 minutes” His voice was husky.

Run.

Jungkook’s lips dipped to your chest, pushing the hem of your t-shirt up. Leaving pronounced kisses on every inch of skin he could find.

Run. Run. Run. Run.

You squinted behind him. There was an old family photograph hanging on the wall.

Two young boys. A father.

Their suits. Well-tailored. Designer.

Your breath hitched, Jungkook’s fingers slid across your slit.

“I love you baby” He mumbled as his lips returned to yours. “So fucking much, I almost hate you for it”

Two boys. A father.

Two.

“You’re an only child, right?”

Jungkook’s actions halted.

“Yeah,” He wiped his lips, “My mom died when I was young.”

“Any, other relatives…?” You slid off the counter carefully, pieces in your mind beginning to fit together.

Jungkook’s face hardened. Jaw stiff.

“Did Jimin say some bullshit to you?”

Oh God. Jimin had been hinting at some connection between Jin and Jungkook all along. You thought it had been a joke. A way to toy with Jungkook’s head.

That day. After you fucked Jungkook for the first time. Jin saw him. Jin knew him.

What if Jimin had been right? What if he had been the only one who was truly looking out for you all along?

“Did you kill Jimin?” The question had no sound. The air was still. The two of you, frozen in time.

“Come on, Y/n.” Jungkook sighed, “Jimin got what he deserved, but no I did not. He hurt you. He’s insane”

You flinched when he reached for your wrist.

He knew you figured it out.

You stepped outside the apartment. Running down the steps until you were back on the street. Outside Yoongi stood, leaning against the stone wall across the street as though he were expecting you.

“You knew” Was all you said.

Yoongi sighed, “I knew about Jungkook, but I needed to make sure if my hunch about Jin was true.”

You laughed bitterly. “That’s why my mother hated Jin. Because,” You couldn’t even say it. It made you want to vomit.

“Jin is a Jeon”

You blinked back tears. “But, why would he kill his own father?”

“Unless, he didn’t”

“Oh my God. You think…” You exhaled, feeling weak again. Yoongi held you upright. “Taehyung?”

He shrugged lightly, “It’s possible. More believable that a mother sends away the son who killed her lover than a son who simply witnessed something”

You were silent.

“You need to be careful” He made his voice as soft and kind as he possibly could. “I know about Hobi, but I’m honestly more suspicious of Jungkook.”

You nodded. The sun seemed to peak out from the horizon. A new day. A new betrayal.

Then the sound of the voice on the phone hit you. Run. So familiar. Like a ghost.

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah love?”

“Did you call my phone earlier?”

He shook his head. “No…why?”

“You’re back early” Taehyung answered the door, “Figured you’d spend the whole night with the Detective” His bland tone seemed to have been revived. You were too bewildered to care. You pushed past him, Yoongi following behind. Taehyung greeted him nicely. “Hyung”

You slumped into the couch immediately. Hand on your forehead as if it would ease the pounding.

Yoongi watched you, concerned. Taehyung looked to him for an explanation.

“So listen,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but we still need to stay focused on pushing Hoseok out. The shareholders will be at the casino this evening for the anniversary gala”

“Yoongi” You laughed bitterly, “I don’t want to—”

“Y/n,” He responded, adamant, “This is what it’s like. You can’t hide just because shit’s hard. You’re not Jin’s princess anymore, you have responsibilities if you want back what’s yours. Taehyung isn’t ready to handle society on his own. He needs you”

A tear rolled down your cheek.

“Get some sleep” Yoongi rested his hand on your shoulder, caressing it gently. “It’s 7 AM, you’ve got plenty of time to get yourself together” His gaze diverted to Taehyung. “Black tie formal. I’ll send a suit for you. Make sure this one starts getting dressed at least 3 hours before we leave—she takes forever”

You let out a sad laugh, knowing Yoongi was trying to cheer you up but failing epically when all you had was a broken heart and impending doom.

Yoongi left, but Taehyung remained standing in front of you. A safe distance away, he simply observed you.

“You can sit you know” You grumbled.

He didn’t react. Didn’t move an inch.

“What’s wrong?” He inquired after a moment.

“Nothing,” You chuckled, “Just another missed opportunity for you to be the cause of my misery.”

“Was it,” Taehyung took a deep breath. Pausing, considering his next words carefully, “Was it him? Did the Detective hurt you?”

His eyes seemed to flash with something you couldn’t quite read.

“No” You stood up finally, “No the Detective is just another lying, manipulative asshole like the rest of you”

You walked past him, heading towards the foyer.

“I thought you loved him”

You whirled around. How he had managed to pick that up, you had no idea.

“I’ve decided I’m done with love” You stated confidently, “I end up falling for liars anyway”

You proceeded to storm up the stairs.

You were woken up by the sound of soft footsteps. Squinting, the evening sun blaring into your room, you noticed Taehyung pacing nervously outside of your room.

He was dressed.

Yoongi must have come by with the suit. It fit him perfectly. His dark hair was styled, tousled but neater than usual. His shoulders were prominent. The tailoring was perfect for his lean figure, and long legs. A gold watch on his wrist. It looked natural. He wore it so well.

Just like his brother.

Run.

“You’re awake” Finally, Taehyung stepped inside your room.

“Get dressed” He motioned towards a dry-cleaning bag that lay on your desk.

“Taehyung,” You sat upright, wiping the drool from your lips, “You look very handsome”

He blinked at you. Then walked away.

If you had any lingering doubt in your mind that the man by your side was in fact, Kim Taehyung—they were utterly dismissed. His Kim colors were shining. Despite his typical cold nature to you, Taehyung was the embodiment of charm.

Stepping into the casino, he had been initially overwhelmed by the stimulus: the lights, the slot machining whirring with bright colors, the crowd. You could feel him visibly tense even though he remained an appropriate distance away from you at all times. Close enough that folks knew you’d come together. Far enough to show you that he hadn’t forgotten about what happened.

The first few people who’d approached you had been friends of his mothers. You knew everyone well, everyone knew you. Taehyung would be quiet, shy at first, but it was that very aspect of his personality that made him alluring. He knew exactly what to say. His observant nature allowed him to navigate the different dynamics, pick up on cues expertly.

The elders respected his aura. The young were entranced by his mystery.

Every person he talked to was ready to trust him with their life. And if that wasn’t a Kim trait, you weren’t sure what was.

The only hiccups would arise when folks would bring up the past.

“Aren’t you two getting engaged?” Mr. Lee, one of Kim Enterprises’ stakeholders, asked politely, “So tragic what happened to dear Seokjin. But have you rescheduled?”

With speedy hesitation, Taehyung slid a hand onto the small of your back, looking into your eyes. There was a genuine passing of emotion, ever so subtle. He spoke, to Mr. Lee, but really—to you.

“In time” He smiled slightly. Looking back to Mr. Lee, “We are still mourning, in our own way”

“I’m sure Jin would be so proud of you”

You felt Taehyung tense at the implication. He maintained his composure, nevertheless, but you could see the turmoil stirring within him. Mr. Lee excused himself, and you turned to Taehyung, searching his eyes.

The mere mention of Jin had been pushing him closer and closer to the edge all night.

“Tae” You sighed, caressing his arm. “Want to take a break?”

“Please” His response was curt, but you could see his other hand balled up in a fist. Jin’s name had such a radial effect on him—one that reminded you that despite his ability to play the social field, he was dangerous.

Taehyung followed you to the backrooms where a younger crowd was immersed in pool, poker, and other debauchery.

“They loved you”

Taehyung merely shrugged. “Play the man, not the game” His eyes ghosted over you, “You taught me that”

You snorted lightly, as you found a quieter spot away from the buzz, Taehyung leaned against a wall, looking at ease.

“Taehyung, do remember how to play pool?” You asked suddenly as the billiard table came into your vision.

Taehyung thought for a moment. “Not really. But I’ll learn”

“Winner makes a wish, loser fulfills it” You challenged him. You really couldn’t help yourself. Being in the casino made you crave risk. But Taehyung wasn’t ready for high stakes, you knew that.

“Fine”

You start off expertly. Taehyung handed you the pool cue, the smooth wood cool against your fingertips.

"Alright, let me show you the basics," you said, positioning yourself near the table with a practiced ease.

He watched intently, his eyes following the calculated movements of your hands as you lined up a shot.

You demonstrated the proper stance, the controlled grip, and the delicate finesse required to send a ball into the pocket. With each shot, you explained the strategy, the physics of the angles, and the importance of precision.

You hit the shot expertly. With a smirk, you put down the pool cue and motioned for Taehyung to take your place.

"Your turn, Tae."

He eyed you skeptically but took the cue, positioning himself for the shot. You stepped behind him, your hand gently guiding his.

You’d never been so close to him. Not since the day you reunited, and he hugged you. And asked: are you scared of me, Princess?

Ever since then, there were oceans between you that you could only dream of crossing. He smelled good, you couldn’t help breathing in his fresh aura. The dimly lit room seemed to fade away just for a moment, and you wondered if he was effected like you were.

"Now, focus," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, though you maintained a level of indifference in your tone.

Taehyung's breath hitched imperceptibly, but he composed himself, focusing on the game. With your guidance, he took the shot, sinking the ball into the pocket expertly.

"Perfect," you praised, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "See, you’re a natural yet again. A true Kim”

Taehyung turned to face you, his gaze intense. "Anything I am is because of you”

You stiffened. His words were both a compliment and an accusation. God, seeing this side of him made him even more terrifying, because you didn’t trust yourself not to buy into the fact that he was some pure, innocent version of his older brother. He wasn’t. Kim Taehyung was unhinged. Any second he could snap, and you were on eggshells.

“Your turn” He handed back the cue. A few shots later, the two of you were neck and neck. The ocean between you two drying up slowly with every exchange of banter.

“Done with love, huh?”

You circled him as he lined up his next shot.

“What exactly did the Detective do to make you say something like that?”

You pursed your lips. “Why, gonna go beat him up?”

With a flick of his shoulder, the ball went in. Taehyung stood straight. “Maybe. What’d he do?”

He leaned against the table, handing you the cue as you positioned yourself. “He lied. He betrayed me. And I’m tired of loving liars”

“Didn’t you also lie to him?” He challenged. You shot him a glare. “Why haven’t you told him everything?”

You hit your mark. You missed. Taehyung’s blatant honesty was always unnerving. He wasn’t one to play games. “It’s complicated. I didn’t trust him. I still don’t trust him”

“And you expected him to trust you” Taehyung shrugged blandly. He stole the cue from your hand and before you could blink, he snapped the final shot. “Seems fair”

Taehyung’s last ball went in.

He beat you.

“Well” Taehyung huffed, trying to hide his gleaming pleasure. You almost wanted to roll your eyes. “I suppose that’s that” He looked at you expectantly.

“Okay Kim Taehyung, what wish can I grant you?” Cue in hand, you pretended to curtsy. Taehyung grabbed the end of the stick, using it to tug you towards him.

The space between you vanished. Only the cue between you, until Taehyung pulled it from your grip and set it aside.

There was something unrecognizable in his eyes. He licked his lips unconsciously.

“Well?” You looked up at him, suddenly aware of his height.

His fingers held your chin, tilting your face upward. Except his touch wasn’t harsh. Wasn’t painful.

Taehyung inhaled.

Your eyes widened as he closed his mouth over yours. His eyes shut—kissing you with a depraved delicateness. As if he was drinking your soul like he was the devil himself.

A touch so tender, and yet it seemed to steal away every last bit of purity within you, leaving behind a raging storm. Activating something so sinful—so wicked. All due to the decadent taste of his delicate lips.

He pushed your mouth open, deepening the kiss. And you—you were lost. Still utterly shocked that—Kim Taehyung was kissing you. The Kim Taehyung that wanted you dead. The Kim Taehyung who blamed you for everything—was actually kissing you.

It wasn’t like you’d never thought about it. The two of you no longer had to get engaged, but you lived with the man. And he was gorgeous. His quiet, mesmerizing charm. Enigmatic, smoldering and yet so calm. Who knew beneath that cold demeanor there was a tsunami waiting to be unleashed? 

He didn’t give you an opportunity to question him. His lips felt too good on yours for you to care. The casino around you seemed to vortex—everything spinning: the colorful lights—until you were airborne.

Floating. Dizzy. Afraid to fall but so fucking glad you were in the sky.

His mouth coaxed out your fierceness until you began to feel impatient. You placed your hand on his pounding chest, a light push until he sat down on the bench. You slid into his lap, no longer thinking—no longer caring that you were in public. That there was a room full of people in the casino who could be staring. Taking pictures. Gossiping.

They were all dead for all you cared.

You gasped audibly, a soft moan as he pulled you impossibly closer. You were losing your breath. On the verge of fainting—overwhelmed with sensations. Everything was heightened—everything felt alive.

His hand was behind your neck, the other one on the small of your back. Both yours in his wavy black—cloud like hair.

He pulled away, finally—barely. Catching his breath. His chest rising as fast as yours, offset by his erratic heartbeat. He was nervous.

Was that his first kiss?

He swallowed, uncomfortably on edge. His eyes were dark with desire. An angry kind of lust.

You searched your mind for words. Something to tell him that he did so good. That you loved it—and you wanted more. He was searching your gaze for something, but you were speechless.

So you kissed him again. Because how the hell else are you supposed to communicate.

“Taehyung” Your hands moved to cup his cheeks. You shifted, letting your body roll against his. Grinding against him slow and sensual, letting your movements mimic those of your lips. He was hard—painstakingly so. And he felt so good tucked between your legs. Throbbing for you. Both his hands lowered to your hips, then back up your back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you—or maybe he couldn’t believe you were real.

His hold was strong—not rough. Touch intentional but not desperate. He took his time with you as if he had all the time in the world, but was still somehow starved. Drinking from you was his only salvation. You—you were his salvation. And he was your ruin.

He pushed you away, suddenly. You blinked, dizzy from the loss of touch. Sensitive and damp, heart throbbing fast. He didn’t meet your gaze.

“Fuck”

You could see the judgmental stares all around. Rolling your jaw you smirked at the crowd.

“We own this place. I’d mind your business”

The chatter dissipated. You redirected your attention back onto Taehyung.

“Taehyung?” Your voice was soft. “You okay?”

You noticed how tightly he was gripping the table. His head down, looking anywhere but up at you. Eyes wide, spiraling in thought.

“I—” He exhaled, closing his eyes again.

Was he--?

You couldn’t help yourself. You knew he’d despise you for it—but Kim Taehyung already despised you. You weren’t going to pass up a chance to feel him cum.

You shifted his chair so he was facing away from prying eyes. Carefully you snuck under the pool table, clawing at his pants.

His fingers pulled your hand away. A warning glare.

You yanked your hand away, unzipping his pants and letting his pretty cock spring free.

You clicked your tongue. Poor thing was ready to burst.

Licking your lips, you let your tongue glide from his base all the way up his length where you left a soft, sweet kiss on his tip. You slid his tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked.

Flattening your tongue, you let his cock rest there. Like a dog, you waited for him to cum all over you.

Then you looked up at him.

His eyes locked onto yours—and they were wild.

He hissed, shooting into your mouth. You drank up everything he had to give—and it was quite a bit. He bucked over, knuckles turning white. The bite into his lip released blood with how hard he was trying to stay quiet. You let him push his cock into the hollow of your cheek and spurts continued to flow out of him. You rested your hand on his knee, and his hand covered yours. Holding it tenderly—as if he were thanking you.

You cleaned him up quickly, before returning to your seat, adjusting your dress inconspicuously.

You grinned at him, but he was not amused at all. Still panting.

“Was that your wish?” You beamed at him. He chuckled softly.

“I just wanted to know what it felt like”

It was an innocent intention. Almost heartwarming.

“And, what do you think?” You leaned into him, “Did I rock your world, Kim Taehyung?”

“You are my world. There was never a doubt”

His eyes glossed over. You wanted to melt in his gaze. Unravel. Instead, you were plunged into cold water.

“Fancy seeing you two here”

The hairs on your body straightened. Chills seeping over you at the familiar voice, laced with betrayal.

“Jung Hoseok” He extended a hand to Taehyung, “Pleasure’s all mine baby boy” Taehyung skeptically shook it.

-

Hobi was extremely amused at what he had walked in on. Of course, a whore like you would take a matter of days to wrap the young Kim boy around your finger.

“Nice job leashing the puppy” He muttered, cigarette at the edge of his lips. The smoke wisping past your unamused expression.

“I should kill you” Hobi grinned at your response.

“No need,” He tapped the cigarette ash on the edge of the ash tray. He had brough you to his private booth. Leaving Taehyung for the wolves.

“What do you want, Hobi? I don’t want to leave Taehyung alone too long”

“Why?” He leaned closer to you. His hand resting on your bare thigh. Your dress was so fucking slutty, he loved it. He always loved the way you’d dress to gamble. As if your body gave you an edge—it did. He knew you crumbled rich playboy’s resolve with one bat of your pretty eyes. “Are you so desperate for dick you’d take your lover’s little brother’s virginity?”

You rolled your eyes. “I asked you a fucking question,”

“A birdy told me that you found out about Jin’s daddy”

You squinted at him. “What about it?”

“Don’t you want to know the whole story?” Hobi’s fingers hooked under the straps of your dress, playing with them. “Of the infamous Jeon family? And your mother—the woman who tore down a legacy”

His hand slid between your legs.

“Long long ago, the entire arms distribution business lay in the hands of one famous Korean gangster. Jeon Junghyun.”

He brushed against your clit. Gentle circles while he gazed into your eyes. A wicked grin. Like he could kiss you or stab you in the back.

You latched onto his arm as he lured you towards an orgasm. His face burying against your neck, breathing you in as he continued to touch you. Nothing except your soft whimpers in the air.

The heat from his body infected your every nerve. His breath scalding over your cheek.

“Then there was this clever little bitch” You inhaled sharply, edging forward towards your high. He could tell—because he pressed a little harder.

“Who manipulated her way to the top. Gained favor of everyone under him and took him out with a stab to the back” His hands roamed your body, sliding up your dress. He pushed the fabric up until it bunched up above your breasts which he grabbed at eagerly.

Thumbs rolling over your nipples, he continued “She took everything from him, leaving him and his two sons to rot. But she wasn’t cruel. She let him stay as her right-hand”

Hobi left a soft kiss against your left breast. Then another. And another. His thumb back onto your clit, he licked and suckled you. You gasped—looking at him with big, pleading eyes. Curving into his touch.

“She grew the business. An arms distribution pipeline can be used for a lot of things. She went legit. Bought out other companies with the blood money. Began distributing just about everything.”

He licked your lips. The sensation like that of slowly sinking into absolute, soft bliss. Licking down your jaw, fluttering desperate hisses across your neck.

Then, he slipped one finger in—your face heating at the sound. You clenched around the protrusion and he reached deep inside. Working you slowly, carefully—before adding in another.

His kisses trailed back up to your mouth. His breaths were heavy, swallowing your moans. It was hauntingly intimate.

“Hobi” You pleaded, gripping onto him as you shook. Orgasm sweeping over you like an earthquake. Tremors from your heart to every finger and toe in your body. He was so wildly aroused that he couldn’t look away. His fingers were steady nevertheless, pumping you through it. “Fuck, Hobi please”

“Jeon Jungkook wants you dead sweetheart” The pain from his words pushed you over the edge. You soaked over his fingers, twitching wildly. “And so did his hyung. Kim Seokjin.”

-

The brisk night air bit at your skin as you seized Taehyung's wrist, pulling him outside. People were chattering, smoking cigars, the lights from the casinos madness still polluting the air. Limousines, sleek and imposing, formed a line ready to usher the remaining guests to their destinations.

Waving down a driver, you led Taehyung inside one. The plush leather seats cool against your exposed legs. The interior lit so you could see him in front of you, clear as day.

The light shut. Instead there were light sparkles on the ceiling of the limo as it began to move. The champagne swirled in your mind as you leaned back, looking out the window. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Like a rush, you wanted to lose yourself.

Your eyes shut for a moment. Remembering the way the light danced on your fac when you were with Jungkook that night at the club. Yearning for his touch, the look in his eyes when he told you how he felt.

You swallowed thickly, heart in too much pain to go down that road. You looked at Taehyung next to you, instinctively reaching out to touch his face. Gently, you took hold of his chin, coaxing his gaze to meet yours.

Your thumb traced over his cheek. Fingers dancing over his soft, delicate skin. His eyes fluttered close as you did. Teasing the edge of his lips ever so lightly. He really was a beautiful man. His lips looked soft. Devastating, with the way his shaken breath made them tremble.

He leaned into your touch, your fingers sliding up over his ear, pushing his hair out of his face. It felt like you were getting kicked in the chest repeatedly. Every part of you feeling numb but simultaneously sensitive to even the slightest movement of air.

He exhaled. The flow of his breath wavering. Or was it a moan, you weren’t sure.

You were about to pull your hand away, until Taehyung’s over fingers gripped your wrist. He stared at you, pupils wide. It was these moments where you felt like you could see him. His soft, vulnerable side, behind those concrete walls.

To your surprise, he brought your hand up to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist.

His lips softly melted into the sensitive area. Your breath hitched.

It was furiously intimate.

Holding your hand still, his eyes blinked back up at you. Almost as though he were asking permission.

Your throat was dry. The alcohol loosening the knots on your sense of logic.  

His eyes traced over you, dipping down your entire body. The way he sat, leaning so his knees almost touched yours. The leather suddenly felt so hot against your skin. Under his flaming stare.

He inhaled, steady, before leaning into you. Tracing his nose behind your ear. You shivered. His touch making you dizzy. Needy. Quivering.

“You looked beautiful tonight”

They were plain words.

When he said them, they meant the world. Something bloomed inside you. You were spinning and breathless, mouth parting in shock. His lips barely grazing under your jaw.

He backed away, putting distance between you yet again.

-

Namjoon stood in the foyer, waiting for you to come home. The moment the door swung open, you darted into his embrace. It felt like a familiar haven, and he effortlessly hoisted you up, cradling you in a desperate hug, afraid you might vanish if he let go.

"I missed you," Namjoon murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek before reluctantly releasing you. His gaze then shifted to Taehyung, pride in his voice. "You too. You look great, Taehyung. I heard you went to the casino."

Taehyung's response was measured. "Are you out on bail?"

"No," Namjoon replied with a hint of bitterness, "Yoongi blackmailed Jungkook into letting me go."

Your heart tightened at his name.

"Where is he? I want to see him”

“Absolutely not” Namjoon was firm. “We don’t know how dangerous he is. I have some of my guys looking into it with Yoongi. He sure as hell had been in contact with Jin in the weeks leading up to his murder”

Namjoon cupped your face. “But other than that, it’s over. He won’t contact you. You’re free. I don’t want you worrying about this anymore”

You wanted to laugh at the term. Free. Especially since Namjoon was already back to telling you what you could and couldn’t do.

“What about Nexus?”

Namjoon smiled, taking your hand in his. “Come with me,”

You followed him. Taehyung a few paces behind. Namjoon brought you into the garden. There were a million fireflies. Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at Taehyung, wondering if he remembered your tender moment in this same spot.

Namjoon lowered onto one knee.

Fuck. It was one of those moments where everything was so still. So quiet yet extremely loud in your chest. He smiled. Eyes meeting yours. Brimming.

“Marry me”

Your mouth was dry. The moisture building in your eyes instead. It hurt, deep inside because your mind took you to a certain tattooed, mean and yet tender man who you had left behind.

“Let me give you everything, Y/n” Namjoon continued, “The papers. The stocks. The business. You deserve it all and I will give it to you. I’ve done you wrong, and I know you aren’t where I am. I know you loved someone else”

His proposal hung in the luminous space. His words echoed in your ears. His gaze held both sincerity and vulnerability. He waited for your response, standing up so his fingers could brush against the side of your face. The fireflies flickered like stars behind him.

“I hope someday, it can be more than an arrangement. Someday you might love me the way I love you. But for now, I wanted you to have the option. I will give you everything, I promise”

Tears blurred your vision, and you took a steadying breath. "Namjoon," you whispered, your voice fragile yet resolute. Suddenly, with the prize standing in front of you, waiting for your claim, you realized how serious your answer was. If you married Namjoon, you were signing a deal with the devil. There would be no going back.

"I need time."

His eyes reflected understanding, and he stood, pulling you into a tender embrace. "Take all the time you need," he murmured against your hair.

You could still feel Taehyung watching the scene unfold. His expression unreadable, he retreated into the shadows.

Namjoon walked you to your bedroom, and you kissed him goodnight. He urged you not to stress. To take all the time and he’d be there, waiting when you were ready. No rush. This is what you’d wanted.

So why was it so hard to say yes?

Jungkook’s face engraved into your mind. Your gut flipping. You needed to find him. Needed to talk to him without Namjoon finding out. Your phone began to buzz. Hope coursed through you. Maybe it was him.

You answered quickly, excited.

“Don’t marry him”

There was no way.

“You’re mine”

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a/n: its been a fucking MINUTE. idek how to do thia anymore, please enjoy and let me know what you think !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TAEHYUNG omfg come scream with me pls thanks

and thank you for reading you hawtie <3

[lazycats-stuff]

Pls Fluff with Tim x m!Reader

The rear pulled some all nighters and surprised Tim with all his finished work so he can finally rest for more than just 1 hour. Tim is like"thank you so much more come sleep with me" and they both cuddle and obviously the reader falls asleep first so now Tim is watching them sleep and just thinking about how lucky he is

Sure... Some love to Tim. Sorry for taking this long to write this. I know it's short, but I can't write much anymore. School is kicking my ass... I hate school.

Summary: (Y/N) helps Tim rest.

Warnings: fluff, tired couple, Tim adores (Y/N), I need sleep too, I lowkey want a Tim in my life.

Tim is notorious for pulling all nighters and just not sleep for a few days before just crashing somewhere in the manor. Well, he moved out of the manor with his boyfriend. (Y/N) and Tim knew each other for a long time and Tim got some courage to ask (Y/N) out in high school. The two have been going strong for 3 years now and the two has decided to move out.

(Y/N) and Tim searched high and low during their college days and it wasn't an easy feat, since they had decided to move out during the college years, the time when everyone is flat out broke. Tim and (Y/N) didn't want Bruce to intervene, because they wanted to do this on their own.

Also, (Y/N) was scared every night for his boyfriend. (Y/N) knew that Tim was Red Robin from the year 2 of their relationship. It was a stressful week after the big revelation, because the problem wasn't Tim being Red Robin.

The question was whether or not (Y/N) would see Tim. If Tim would make it back alive. But as the time went on, (Y/N) would get more at ease and that stress would slowly disappear, knowing that Tim would come back to him no matter what happened that night on patrol.

Tim would always make it back to (Y/N). That was something that Tim promised to (Y/N) when he told (Y/N) his secret identity. He would always make it back, even telling his boyfriend that he would crawl through hell through hell just to come back to (Y/N).

That put (Y/N) at ease and the feeling of anxiety slowly faded, but it was still present, but not so intense.

But there was one thing that (Y/N) didn't like. The fact that Tim didn't sleep normally due to patrol is one thing. But your night off of patrol can't be used to work too and then sleep for 20 to 30 minutes during the day. (Y/N) was very worried about it and he has decided to do something about it.

And (Y/N) may not be a detective like Tim is, but he can certainly going to try. So, once Tim was on patrol (Y/N) tried to get some work done, but was stopped by the complexity. He knew Tim is a smart man and that he does a lot of complex stuff...

But this is nuts with how complex it is. (Y/N) snooped more through the laptop and found something very simple... But... It would take him all night.

But for Tim?

He would do it without a single complaint, even more when he knew that Tim could rest and not mix coffee with Red Bull. So, (Y/N) got to work and he did work through the entire night.

Now, Tim was going to be in for a surprise when he comes back from patrol this morning.

Tim came back at 7 am, tired, but knowing that he needed to do some work. (Y/N) on the other hand was beyond exhausted from the all-nighter and was now waiting for Tim to check his laptop to see that the work for today was done. He watched from the couch, curious about his reaction.

Tim sat down and checked his laptop, getting ready to do his work... But it's all completed? Tim furrowed his brows in confusion. Who did this?

Tim look at (Y/N), who smiled in return from the couch.

" Did you pull an all-nighter for me? " Tim asked quietly, knowing that (Y/N) didn't like all-nighters. He loves his sleep and has never pulled an all-nighter.

" I did. " (Y/N) said before yawning, covering his mouth with his hand.

" Love... Did you do it for me...? " Tim asked quietly and (Y/N) nodded.

Tim closed his laptop and walked over to (Y/N). He cupped his face and gave him a big kiss on the lips. (Y/N) laughed into the kiss and allowed Tim to give him a big smooch.

" You pulled an all-nighter for me? " Tim whispered against (Y/N)'s lips, a smile tugging on his lips.

" I did. " (Y/N) whispered back, smiling too.

" You hate all-nighters. " Tim said and moved some hair out of (Y/N)'s eyes.

" Yeah, but you need rest. " (Y/N) said, leaning into Tim's touch.

" Oh love... Come on, lets sleep. You need it. " Tim said quietly and helped (Y/N) stand up, before leading him to their bedroom. He gently laid (Y/N) down and he made sure the room was dark before tucking (Y/N) in bed and then, finally he joined him.

He made sure (Y/N) was warm and he hugged him tightly, making sure he slept well. (Y/N) fell asleep quickly, probably the moment his head hit the pillow.

Tim smiled at that sight and watched his boyfriend sleeping. Not everyone would sacrifice their sleep for their partner. And knowing how (Y/N) hated all-nighters and valued his sleep, the gesture was nothing but amazing.

His boyfriend was amazing.

Tim always knew that his boyfriend was an amazing person. Kind and understanding to his crazy and chaotic schedule, not to mention, could handle his crazy family. Damian is the most insane one out of the fam and he managed to befriend him. Not to mention, Alfred approved.

Bruce was very happy that Tim started dating in general. Everyone was shocked, but soon realized that (Y/N) was an angel sent from above to Tim.

Of course, we are talking metaphorically, but mostly it was real. Why? (Y/N) made sure Tim got at least two hours of sleep, made sure to make him drink water...

And he motivated Tim to take care of himself more. So, one hell of a positive thing.

Tim agreed with the fact that (Y/N) is an angel from above, the one who cared about Tim for Tim. Not for money and notoriety and fame. Tim watched the still sleeping (Y/N) and smiled widely.

He is truly the luckiest guy on Earth. He thought about marrying (Y/N) and he started looking for an engagement ring even. Bruce and the others told him to go for it.

He would love nothing more than to marry (Y/N), his love. His light. His darling. Tim sighed quietly as he looked at his beloved boyfriend, who was completely out. Like a light.

Tim leaned down and kissed (Y/N)'s head, before laying down himself and falling asleep quickly. Maybe he needed this. Maybe he needed (Y/N) in his life...

Maybe it was meant to be. Maybe it was fate who brought them together.

[littlefankingdom]

I do not understand fics and posts where Jason time-travels and tries/succeeds to stop himself from being adopted by Bruce or being Robin.

Jason was hurt because he was "replaced" as Bruce's son and as Robin. Why he was mad at Bruce was not for not saving him, not for making him Robin, BUT not killing the Joker. What Jason wanted was a sign that Bruce cares for him AS MUCH AS Jason cares for Bruce. Hurting Tim is not about proving that having kids doing vigilante bs is bad and dangerous, it's about making Tim pays for stealing Jason's dad, it's about making Bruce suffers for not caring enough about Jason's death (in his eyes. Jason doesn't have the full story). And the whole "we are just soldiers to Bruce" is not about how Robin shouldn't exist, it's about how hurt Jason is by Bruce, how he thinks Bruce discarded him like an army does with a soldier when Jason is his son.

But also, and that's a part of the tragedy that makes Jason Todd, his time as Robin and being adopted by Bruce, they are some of the best moments of his life. There are memories that hurts for him to look at because of how happy he was. He would probably not be able to take that away from himself, because that would be so awful. Yes, he suffered from losing it, but is it better to never have lived it? Jason LOVED being Robin, and as much as it hurts, he still loves that he was able to be Robin.

~ Red Hood and the Outlaws (2011) - Jason's happiest memory is when he was sick and couldn't go out as Robin, and Bruce stayed in with him

~ Red Hood & Arsenal - Jason hugging an amnesic Bruce, thanking him for "everything" with the implication about making him Robin with their shadows

~ Robin War - Jason punching a random guy because he believes being Robin helped him

~ Robin War - Jason talking about being Robin and how it hurts to lose Robin with Tim

Finally, Jason was always someone that values justice. He finds Batman again to explain to him what is happening in Ma Gunn's school because he wants justice. When he thinks Batman doesn't believe him, he decides to work on his own to bring justice. I must laugh if you think Mister "You kill the Joker or I kill the Joker but he must die" would sit back and not become a vigilante while his family is crime fighting. Hell no, he is like all of them, he needs to do something about it. And Bruce will not stop him, whatever age he is. Or the moment Batman is taking too long to come back the the manor, he is sneaking out to find him and kick the ass of anyone who touched his dad (which is what he did in Batman: The Cult. Batman went missing and Jason went to Jim on his own to know about what was going on in the city, and did the detective stuffs alone to find his dad and bring him back.)

Jason may find a way to stop himself from looking for Sheila Haywood, his bio-mother, but he would not stop himself from becoming Robin. He knows being Robin or Bruce's kid isn't what killed him.

[grxmreaperx]

Hi!!

I just read your Mark Hoffman fic and I loved it!! Would you be willing to write something with Hoffman being a little obsessed with the reader? any further plot is totally up to you, I just need more Hoffman fics. 😩 Angst, fluff, smut (if you’re okay with that of course!)?

God, I love this request!! I’m all for men being obsessed in fics. And there’s no way I can answer this request and NOT write my first Hoffman smut (👀)

Also, you’ve all been so sweet and lovely ahhh I’m so glad I made this blog!!

You Belong to Me

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x reader (reader is AFAB)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+!! Smut!! Kinda went off with this ngl. I had way too much fun with this. Mark being very dominant and obsessed with the reader. Praise and degradation kink. Hair pulling, spanking, cream pie. Mark being very possessive. Oral sex (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), p in v penetration. Every ounce of feminism left my body writing this.

Summary: Upon John’s request, you’ve been working as Mark’s secretary at the precinct in order to keep you off the list of suspects in the search for Jigsaw’s accomplice. Did Mark really expect you to not take this golden opportunity to mess with him? As much as he appreciates the tight pencil skirts you’ve started wearing to work, he does not appreciate the attention it is drawing from his coworkers.

You were driving him absolutely insane. He wasn’t sure whether to bash John’s skull in or worship him like Amanda does for placing you here. He already had a hard enough time focusing on stake outs and working on traps with you, and now you were here. In his place of work, where he was supposed to be professional, supposed to pretend he had never seen you before you had your “interview.”

Mark knew exactly what you were doing. Your first day you walked in here, friendly smile on your pretty face, pencil skirt glued to your legs, staring right at him.

“Good morning, Detective Hoffman.”

God, he was going to kill John.

He hadn’t exactly had time for a sex life since everything went down. His sister’s death, planning Seth Baxter’s fate, joining Jigsaw, all on top of his detective work. And it hadn’t really bothered him; he had more important things to think about.

Until John decided you’d be a perfect addition to the team.

---

You knew your plan was working exactly how you wanted.

John hadn’t tested him yet, so why shouldn’t you? The detective needed to be tested, didn’t he?

You saw how he stared at you when you walked into work each morning, spending the time before your shift picking out the perfect outfit that you knew would drive the man mad.

You had decided months ago that you tired of the tension, the pull you felt towards the man every night you spent working together. And now John, bless his soul, had given you the perfect opportunity to do something about it.

You had seen some of the other men at the station watching you, eyes hovering a bit too long on your legs and ass. It didn’t bother you much, you ignored them for the most part, they weren’t your test subject, they weren’t your detective, so you hardly even noticed.

But, oh, did Mark notice. He noticed every fucking time. And every time was a new test of his willpower. Every single time, all he could think about was what sort of trap he could devise that would be worthy of the pigs who dared look at you.

---

“How you doing today, honey?” You turned around in your chair and saw Henry Miller, one of the cops that was most persistent with you. You were friendly with him; he was nice enough. The only problem was he thought he had a shot with you.

“Morning, Henry. I’m doing alright, how are you today?”

“I’d be a lot better if you finally let me take you out tonight.”

You scoffed. “How many times do I need to tell you I’m not interested before it finally gets through?”

He leaned on your desk, hands resting on the table, staring intently at you from across the surface. “Cmon, baby. Just one dinner, that’s all I ask. I’m very persistent.”

“Miller, isn’t there something you’re supposed to be doing?” You recognized the deep voice instantly and had to stop yourself from grinning. This was perfect.

The smile dropped from Henry’s face when he saw Hoffman staring daggers at him. He looked like a deer in the headlights, a child that had been caught stealing candy.

“Yes, sir,” he muttered, before quickly making his way back to his desk.

“And you,” he started, eyes on you. “In my office.”

You flashed him your best smile. “Of course, Detective.”

----

“Sit down.”

You sat down in the chair across from him, trying to scope out the look on his face. His jaw was tense and shoulders tight. He looked like he was about to explode.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.”

He sucked in a breath. “Bullshit.” He stood up, slowly making his way around the table. “You walk in here every day, in your tight little skirts, giving me that proud little smile, and you’re going to sit here and act like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing? I don’t think so, sweetheart.” He placed on a hand on each armrest, eyes boring down into you. “Now, let’s try again, shall we? What the fuck was that?”

Bingo.

You smiled up at him. “I just want to look nice for you, Detective.”

He shook his head and gritted his teeth. “Oh, you wanna look pretty for me, is that it?” You nod. “You know what would make you look real pretty? Get on your fucking knees.”

Embarrassingly quick, you sink out of the chair and onto your knees, staring up at the man. He smirks.

“Well? You just gonna stare at me? Don’t act like you don’t know what to do.”

You reach up and slowly get to work on his belt, trying to act like you still have some sort of control. Not that you minded, but it was still nice to pretend.

All resolve left you went he wrapped a hand in your hair, pulling back until your chin was pointed up at him. “Don’t do that. You’ve teased me enough. Now it’s your turn.”

You pulled down his pants just enough to reach his dick. You sucked in a breath. You had some idea of what you were in for, but fuck.

You tried to tease him a bit more, you really did, but as soon as you heard the deep groan when you took him into your mouth, you were done for.

His hand in your hair guided you, bobbing your head on his dick, feeling it hit the back of your throat each time. Each tug on your hair, each time you felt the tip of his dick down your throat, you felt a spark go straight between your legs. You looked up at him through thick eyelashes, eyes slightly teary, spit spilling over your lips.

“God, I knew it. You do look very pretty like this, sweetheart.”

You were slightly disappointed when he finally pulled your head back, dick soaked with your spit. “Get up.”

You shakily got to your feet, suddenly aware of how much of a mess you must be. His eyes roamed over your body, examining you from head to toe.

“Go on, sweetheart. Bend over the desk for me.”

You quickly complied, bending over the front his desk, legs slightly spread. You felt him behind you, placing his hands on your hips before landing a hard smack on your ass. His hands pushed up skirt, pooling it around your waist and exposing you to him. He ran a finger over your underwear, pressing lightly on your clit, before landing another blow.

“Such a little slut, aren’t you? Already soaked for me. Have you enjoyed acting like a brat?” Another smack. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you said softly.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Much better.” He pushed your underwear aside, running a finger through your folds. You felt your hips push back, trying to get more. More of anything, more of him. He pulled his hand away, running it over your thighs. “So desperate, aren’t you? You know exactly what you’ve been doing to me, teasing me, acting like a brat. Why should I touch you?”

“Please, sir, I’m sorry. I just wanted – “

“Wanted what? Wanted me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. You felt him slide one finger in, quickly followed by a second. You bit your lip, suddenly aware of where you were and who was outside this office.

“So, you thought you’d make me jealous, hm?” he asked, fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. You nodded, rolling your hips against his fingers. As soon as he felt your movement, he pulled his fingers away. A whimper left your lips.

“Why should I make you feel good, when you’ve done nothing but tease me for months?”

“Please, sir. I need it.”

“Louder.”

“But- “

“I said louder.”

“Please, sir, please, fuck.”

He slid into you all at once, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. You let out a loud moan, before clamping a hand over your mouth, hoping to God no one heard you.

His hand found its way to your hair, pulling you toward him, back arching. You felt his lips right next to your ear as he finally moved his hips, pulling almost completely out before pounding back in. “No, no, baby. You want to tease me, make me jealous, let these cops flirt with you? You’re gonna let this whole fucking office know who you belong to.”

He set a rapid pace, hips snapping against yours. You felt your eyes roll back in your head, legs unsteady.

Mark groaned in your ear. “God, do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this pussy? How many times I’ve thought about bending you over and ruining you? Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done to me? You’re all I fucking think about anymore.”

You let out a loud moan, no longer caring who heard you two. “God, fuck.”

“Cmon baby, tell me who you belong to.”

“You, sir.”

“Louder.” His long, hard strokes made your legs weak.

“I belong to you, sir! I’m all yours!”

“Good girl.” His other hand reached around your front, fingers quickly finding your clit and drawing quick circles around it. “Now, let everyone out there know that I’m the only one that gets to make you cum.”

Your legs shook and you knew if it weren’t for his arms holding you up, you wouldn’t be able to stand. Your mind was blank, forgetting everything but his words and the feeling of his cock filling you.

Your vision went white as your orgasm washed over you, the room filled with sounds of you moaning his name and his skin slapping against yours. You felt his pace falter slightly, his breath hot on your ear as he emptied himself inside you.

You stayed like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breath, before he finally pulled out of you and slid your skirt down.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that,” he said, breathless, as he pulled his pants back up.

You let out a soft laugh. “Me too.” You start to grab a tissue from the box on his desk to clean yourself up before he grabbed your wrist. He spun you around to face him, face inches from yours.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I want everyone to know that you’re mine. And I want to see you try and hold yourself together with my cum dripping down your thighs.” He gave you a smirk before letting go of your wrist, making his way back to his chair, and continuing his work as if nothing had happened.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself as you tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

Maybe your plan worked a bit too well.

---

Let me know if you guys like this!! I've been thinking about doing a NSFW alphabet with our lovely detective, let me know if you guys would be interested 👀

[iridescentdove]

What about a Platonic! BSD x Child! Reader is very smart, like almost Ranpo-level smart, but they don’t use their smarts and intellect for anything at all except for online video games, board games, etc., and they’re lazy and don’t go outside at all. Plus, the first time Reader and Dazai had a game of chess, Dazai literally lost two moves in, and Dazai was rethinking his entire life choices in that moment because how the fu-

(How Dazai and Reader’s game of chess went *REAL* link)

WHY DO I HEAR BOSS MUSIC?

platonic!bsd x child!smart!reader

A/N: I for an odd reason, love it when characters are humbled and seen inferior 😭 I love this request too! Here it is~

Everyone loves you.

I'm so jealous rn /j

Well as a kid it would be expected to be like that! Although, it was a little different as you were ... considered unique to other children around you. How so?

ULTRA DEDUCTION BABY.

No but for real. FUKUZAWA merely took you into the agency since you seemed to have had no parents by your side to take care of you. As such, he took on the responsibility himself. The agency takes care of you now! <3

Anyways, let's say you were basically rivalling RANPO in terms of deduction and overall smartness capabilities, as he now thinks you are a worthy opponent.

But even he himself lost to someone like DAZAI.

Yes. Of course it was true, the suicidal detective just seemed to be way too good. The so-called 'world's best detective' had lost to a man, in which who, flirts with women 24/7 and asks for double suicide everywhere he went.

But to say the day came when brunette's demise lurked around the corner ... because of a chess game.

The agency had nothing important going on in particular as the peace of Yokohama was maintained in the meantime. Simply put, you guys were on vacation. So what else to do other than some old family bonding?

There were lots of activities planned that day, and everyone had enjoyed it to the fullest. You did also find it fun, but ... of course, for someone your age – you were mature as fuck.

And so, you did what everyone wouldn't have the balls to do.

Challenge DAZAI OSAMU himself to a chess match.

So obviously, everyone got a bit nervous. Pretty sure you had no idea how smart the suicidal maniac was, nor did they ever believe you would last a good 'ol round even once. By some experience of a certain detective – there is absolutely no one better than DAZAI himself.

The chess game went on. You looked so cute and innocent! Maybe he should go easy on you?? After all, you're just a kid.

And yet ... he was downright horrified.

In a matter of four turns in, the death-craving young man was absolutely OBLITERATED by you. Upon the match ending, a pin drop silence was heard. Eyes widened in shock, whom even RANPO himself never imagined such. Everyone never spoke, not even coughed for a solid 5 minutes.

But it was true. You DID defeat him. FUKUZAWA had the face of a very proud parent – he really didn't think you'd emerge victory in this small innocent match.

The president promised to treat you out next time a successful mission was in tow. Of course, DAZAI couldn't believe he had lost to you! A little child!

It would definitely take a lot of time for him to wrap his head around that – but once he does, oh boy.

I think you a little crazy there uncle ahaha

He almost literally brags about your existence everyday to anyone. You can't tell me he hasn't literally shoved in and mocked in front of people's faces with that shit eating grin of his oh my fucking God 😭

Then again, no one is safe. An even better gifted than the two greatest treasures of the Armed Detective Agency.

FYODOR better be shaking in his fugly ass boots.

You're coming for him alright. (and so am I)

Honestly, the ADA cannot be anymore proud to have an ally like you by their side. Missions and war would cease to exist from how well you managed to help them. And even moreso, combined with RANPO himself.

World destruction who?? I only know (Y/N) (L/N) 😍

Your existence is known, everyone knows about what you've done and how respected you are despite your young age.

Who tf let the Port Mafia fuck ya'll up?? Oh nevermind they were destroyed because of ur amazing little ass. The Hunting Dogs tryna tear apart the ADA which was mistaken as terrorists? Umh chill anyways so you already had a plan– RANPO doesn't know what to do for once? You're already there to help. Decay of the Angels? Lives up to their name, they're decaying under your superior brain and intellect.

You're just found to be the lifeline of the agency. In return, everyone treats you very well (spoils you even), making sure you lived your days as a child to the best extreme possible.

And to be frank – no one dare underestimate you anymore.

[star4daisy]

931 - detective - @stag-microfic tw: mentioned murder

happy birthday sweetheart, I tried to make this sweet I promise but you did say they could comit murder lmao @ecstarry

“Detective Potter, what brings you here?”

The man in question gives him a look as if Regulus should know, he has to hold in his urge to smirk, keeping his eyes wide and innocent as he looks at the detective from below. 

“Another girl is missing after leaving the bar nearby.”

“Oh,” Regulus pretends to be surprised. “What a tragedy.”

Potter hums, “Yes it is,” his eyes never straying from Regulus’s, considering all of his reactions.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re in my flower shop, though,” he points out.

“Bartender said you were open the night she disappeared, figured you could’ve seen something.”

“Nope,” he pops out the word, “I was in the back cultivating my garden.”

“I’m sure you were,” Potter’s voice is full of scepticism. “Would you mind if I checked this garden of yours?”

“Let me think,” Regulus makes a mockery out of it, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Do you have a warrant?”

Potter looks frustrated with him, “You know I don’t.”

“Then I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Regulus smiles sweetly at him, batting his eyelashes for good measure.

“Why are you doing this?” Potter looks so done with him. 

“I can show you my apartment upstairs, though,” he replies cheekily, ignoring the detective’s question. 

Potter snorts, “Hard pass.”

Regulus's smile dies on his lips. “Good luck on your search then,” his eyes narrow, accompanying Potter to the door.

“I’ll be back,” the detective warns.

“I’m sure you will.” They always do.

It’s past nine p.m. when he’s about to close the shop before being stopped by a certain pain in the ass - not even on the fun way - detective entering his shop again.

“What are you doing here, detective?” His tone is harder than it had been during the day.

“I’m off the clock,” Potter assures him.

“Oh?” Regulus knows he can’t keep the interest out of his voice.

“Yeah,” his stare is way more leisurely than when he studied Regulus before. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he flips the closed sign on the door.

Regulus can’t help his satisfied smirk, “Of course you were.”

Potter closes the window curtains before approaching him slowly. “You should be more careful, though,” he warns.

“What about?” Regulus doesn’t bother to keep the smugness out of his voice, satisfied with getting what he wants, he usually does.

“Who you tell things,” the detective messes with the cord that holds Regulus’s apron around his waist, pulling on it harshly until it snaps open falling to their feet. “You never know when one of them might decide it’s not worth it to keep your secrets anymore.”

“Why would they?” Regulus teases. “When what I can give them back is so much sweeter.”

 Potter swallows heavily, “How sweet?”

“Why don’t you try it for yourself?” he challenges. “Thought you said you were off the clock.”

“I am,” Potter leans in closer, finally giving in to the temptation, he runs his nose over Regulus's neck slowly, drinking in the smell he craves. It makes Regulus shiver and practically melt on the taller man's arms, the effect one has on the other is undeniable any time they step close. “And that’s why I’m giving you a fair warning. Be careful, love.”

“Well she shouldn’t have flirted with you in front of me,” Regulus retorts snidely, crossing his arms defensively between them.

James laughs against his cheek, taking Regulus’s arms in his hands and putting them on his waist, not allowing his boyfriend to keep any barriers between them. “Did you dispose of the body?”

“Of course, I’m not stupid.”

“I know you aren’t, baby, but people might start getting suspicious.”

Regulus scoffs, “Who would suspect the flower shop guy?”

James kisses his cheek, then his jaw, every time coming closer to his mouth, “Don’t get confident, love. That’s how everyone gets caught.”

“But you are not going to allow that, are you, Detective Potter?” Regulus raises an eyebrow in challenge.

After all, there was a reason why he had chosen to seduce the acclaimed James Potter in the first place, it didn’t matter if he’d fallen in love with him along the way, the end result was still the same. Regulus counted on his protection.

“Of course not, my love. I’d never let them come close to you,” James promises him earnestly.

Regulus finally turns his head and kisses him slowly as a reward. “Thank you, sweetheart. Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“No,” James's smile is so wide it’s blinding. “Tell me.”

Regulus smirks when he pulls James in by the collar of his shirt as he walks backwards to the stairs. “Why don’t I show you instead?”

James looks more than happy with the alternative, he’s always so willing to go along with everything Regulus suggests, which is one of the things he loves the most about him. He hadn’t even blinked when Regulus killed the first guy for flirting with James in front of him. 

Hell, Regulus was pretty sure James had gotten hard when he realised how far Regulus was willing to go for him. When he knew that was how Regulus proved his love for him. They both had very different ways of showing it, Regulus by killing and James by protecting him. 

But none of them felt any less loved by the other, they just expressed their devotion differently. Regulus wouldn’t choose it any other way. 

He is the happiest he’d ever been when he is by James’s side. That’s never changing. And to them, that's what matters the most.

[i-yap]

hi!! could you write for tim with a reader that just gets him. like they both understand each other, dont have to communicate (verbally at least) to know how the other is feeling. also, she works at damian’s school as an intern/assistant for an art teacher (and brings her pet to school every day. maybe it’s a more exotic animal that piques damian’s interest.). so her and damian are close before tim introduces them (which he really didnt want to do LMAO. he probably let it slip that he was dating someone and now all his brothers want to meet them) so now every time you’re at wayne manor damian barges into tims room to tell you to hang out with him instead. basically fluffy tim x reader with platonic damian. sorry this was a long ask… 😭💞

I love this ask so much!

Tim drake x y/n x platonic! damian

y/n has a gecko as a pet named fluffy ( ik gecko's arent fluffy)

you prolly brought fluffy as an optional muse for your students. And since you are an art teacher at such a prestigious school means you are an amazing artist so damian for sure has a lot of respect for you.

in a couple comics its mentioned that dami is a loner at school so a loner art kid who loves animals hits close to home for you. You guys start bonding really strongly and for once dami has an adult figure who isn't cold as ice or hates his guts ( at least pretend hate) . You become his Didi (I'm indian and I couldn't find the proper arabic term for older sister so I'm just using hindi term for older sister aka didi).

Now when Tim finally opens up about the whole batfamily and how he is like "adopted brother" sort of to Damian, and the whole dynamics between the batfam, you are a little worried. Tim probably has seen you interact with Dami and realized how close you guys are ( dami didn't stab you when you patted his head)

Tim wants to keep you away from the whole batfam , maybe he tells alfred but nothing beyond that. He says its for your safety and he doesn't want you involved in such dangerous vigilante work but it's also because he wants to keep you to himself and being an rich single child...he sucks at sharing .

But nothing remain hidden in a family of detectives and ofc everyone finds out that tim has a secret girlfriend .

Damian probably invited you over to the manor a couple times because you are one of his favorite persons and he wanted to show you his art work or his pets. Everytime you came over, Tim obviously acted like an idiot. Sneaky ( but not sneaky enough glances), innuendos, inside jokes and secretly pulling you away for a mini "tour " of the manor even though Dami insisted he has already shown you everything(non batman related). Maybe everyone found out you were dating when you guys got caught on one of your tours? Damian for sure chased Tim with one of his Katanas till you stepped in.

Damian also doesn't know how to share- rich single child

since the batfam already knew you so well, you were over much more but ofc tim expected it to be for him. He is the boyfriend , the love of your life so why is damian getting your attention huh? Why are you doing an art challenge with dami when there are other more fun "challenges" you could be doing with tim?? WHY ARE YOU WATCHING A DUMB ASS FILM WITH DAMI WHEN YOU SHOULD BE WATCHING DUMBASS FILM WITH TIM?

to be fair, tim does love watching the soft motherly-ish side of you( makes him wanna give you more kids that steal your attention from him) But babyboy wants his cuddles and how dare you deny him of that. you think you are being fair and you are really good at reading tim's feelings so you are able to tell when he needs you attention and therefore excuse yourself politely from damian.

But one day tim is just feeling extra needy and damian and you are in a middle of an activity. you give him a look saying you'll come to him as soon as this activity is over but tim has no patience that day so he just runs into the room, throws you over his shoulder and runs away to his room and locks it. He has installed strong wind blowing thingie so when dami tries chasing him, he just turns the wind blowing things and he cant come close to the door. It then becomes a whole ass hiest while the rest of the batfam just watches and eats popcorn. you obviously have to step in AGAIN.

So you divide up a schedule and ground rules, (steph helps you dw), both tim and dami complain but you just give them both a look and they accept their fate.

Tim likes how much closer you have gotten to his family and damian likes the idea that you guys could actually become sort of related once you marry tim. The rest of the batfam love you ofc but they also love that fact that tim and dami don't try to kill each other( at least not as much as before) because of you. so it all works out( sort of)

I havnt gone exactly by the request and Ive changed up some stuff, I hope that's okay.

[tulipsforyourlips]

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (3)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 3K+

WARNINGS: none i can think of

PART 3✧˖°.

"What the fuck." Your heart beat thunderously in your ribcage. "Are you stalking me?"

The goth guy paid no heed to your question. "I am Dream."

You just stared at him. "Oh okay and I am a nightmare?"

He only became more stern if that was even possible. He took a step forward.

"Don't. I'll call the police," you threatened.

He continued on without paying any heed to your threat. Who the fuck does he think he is?

"I am King of Dreams-"

"Dude-I told you not working."

"Stop talking.” His voice was low but the words were sharp.

But you weren't going to turn down your sass because of a man? Cmon.

"I am Dream-"

"I think I got that bit.”

An imperceptible flare of his nostrils made you zip your mouth. Wow you really got under his skin.

"I am Dream of the Endless and you mortal, have been chosen for a destiny greater than your cause.”

You gawked at him and broke into a chuckle, "o-okay Dream, Wait." You straightened. "Did you say the Endless? Like Death?"

You didn't know much about the Endless but you for sure knew Death was one. He did not answer your question but he did not deny your claim, so you assumed it an affirmative from him.

"How do I know?"

"Know what?"

"That you are infact one of the Endless and not a serial killer concocting stories to trap his victim."

He stepped closer and this time you let him. "Oh I do concoct stories.” He brought his hand to his mouth and blew...sand particles?

However you had no time to asses that for certain because the next second you were suspended in the cosmos, your body pulling in all directions, vivid images clashed in your mind, touring you through the entire world and all in a blip of a second. You grabbed the rim of your bedstand as your mind spiraled, reeling itself back to reality. 

"Woah," you breathed out.

Had you just disrespected an Endless? And called him a stalker? You cringed.

"We will meet again," Dream said as he swooped his cloak over his head.

"Wait." He halted his actions.

"Why me?"

A flicker of emotion fired in his eyes, so brief you labeled it as your imagination.

"Goodnight mortal.”

You woke up with a start. And clutched your head in your hands, stupid dream. You glanced at your alarm clock and then realized it was broken, that you broke it and instead looked at the digits glowing on your phone screen, 5:00 am. Sleep would not come to you now, you knew that much so you put on your slippers and made your way to the kitchen, padding softly so as to not make any sound. You put on the stove and boiled the milk for some coffee, allowing your thoughts till now kept at bay to flood your mind. Okay so that was a dream, explains some stuff. But then those blurs in your dream, and you were sure you had seen him at the corridor yesterday. Unless you had watched a movie starring him and now you saw the actor everywhere. Nah that wasn’t true. But what about your dream? Ever since you were seventeen, you had dreamed only of that place with the mountains and the river. Or maybe before, it wasn't like you remembered anything before that, before your life here, with Edwin and Charles. Is something burning? Oh no. The milk was overflowing, dripping down the slab onto the floor.

"Fuck," you cursed.

How the heck did this even happen? You were staring right into the pot. You grabbed for a cloth, dabbing the milk away. The vessel was tarred black with the burnt milk inside. You couldn't do one bloody job properly.

"Turn around!"

You did, hands up in the air, heart beating exponentially fast yet again. Edwin was in his pajamas, a quizzical look adorning his face. The ghosts didn’t really need sleep but they still liked to bide the time away by resting when there were no immediate cases in need of solving. 

"Hazel?" he furrowed his brows and then examined the mess you were standing in. "What are you doing? I thought you were a thief or a ghost hunter or something.”

"Ghost hunters exist?" You were genuinely surprised.

"Dunno," he shrugged. "It's 5 in the morning, how are you up?"

"A dream.”

"A nightmare?"

"Not exactly.”

"A different one?"

You nodded. Edwin was taken aback at that. He knew about your dream, and that it was the only thing you ever dreamed about. Hell he knew everything about you. Both of them did. They were your only family.

The sun was slowly starting to emerge from underneath the cover of the dark. Edwin approached you at your place on the couch, two coffee mugs in his hand, steam ascending from them. He handed you your mug and took his place beside you.

You took a sip of your coffee. "Mmm.”

"Passable eh?" He teased.

"Yeah." You threw your head backwards.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both, your shoulders touching and knees budging each other.

"You want to talk about it?"

It took you a second to realize the context, "No." You shook your head. "It's nothing.”

"Okay." He didn't probe further and you were thankful for that.

You felt someone watching you and you glanced at the window, only to find a crow? a raven? looking back.

"Bastards.”

You both turned your head to the source where a jealous Charles stood. "Are you having coffee without me?" He was acting like you both were cheating on him.

"Oi calm your horses, its not like your body requires coffee."

"And I care why? Everything is not about survival loser." He flicked your forehead.

"Ouch.” You sent him a glare.

"Okay I don't have the energy nor the patience to sit through this." Edwin got up. "You two, be ready in fifteen. Cases await us."

The moon was beginning to appear in the sky and the wind blew some mischievous strands of your hair across your face as you stapled the posters in your hands on the poles around you. A boy was missing, and your client was sure it had to do with some supernatural activity. It paid well so the agency didn't question it further. While the both of them were searching the location of his disappearance for clues, you were seeking more information about him. The wind knocked some papers out of your hand, and you bent down to pick them up. Your body jerked back when you straightened up.

Hand on your heart, you exclaimed, "Jeez!"

The goth guy from your dream stood before you.

"You seriously need to stop doing that," you gritted out.

And then suddenly your mind clicked and the words left you before you could stop them. "Wait you are real?"

Ever so slightly, Dream's face morphed into a question mark.

Okay so that definitely wasn't a dream, it was real. Very real apparently you realized as you assessed the man, no Endless standing before you.

"You need to come with me," he said oblivious to the raging commotion happening inside your mind.

You didn't reply, instead widened your eyes for an elaboration.

"To the Dreaming, my realm.”

"I can't, I am on a case.”

"Your friends can manage without you," he stated as a matter of fact.

You scoffed, "first of all that's rude, secondly-"

But before you could finish, sand, yeah sand for sure, began to swirl around you, gaining more motion until it enwrapped your entire body and when you next opened your eyes, you were in the Dreaming.

"Holy mother of god," you breathed as your eyes took in the throne room, the magnificence of it all, the colours shimmering in the glass pane, the cosmos swirling above you, the vastness of where you stood. You felt trivial, a bug in the path of a jogger.

"Lucienne I would like you to meet somebody," Dream's voice rasped and you revolved your head to face the woman his words were directed to.

A woman with skin like chocolate, sporting fashionable coattails and wearing spectacles that made her look infinitely wise or perhaps the glasses were just an addition to her preexistent wisdom met your eyes.

She bowed her head. “Greetings your lady."

You returned her gesture. "Hello Lucienne."

"Lucienne is my most trusted advisor and the sole librarian of this realm," the Endless spoke.

"Wow, I wonder what the library of the dreaming would look like.”

She peered at you in bafflement for a moment before quickly collecting herself.

"It would be my honour to show you sometime.”

"The honour would be all mine, Lucienne,” you smiled.

"Lord Morpheus," she called to the Endless.

Morpheus? Who the heck is Morpheus?

"Um who is Morpheus?" You decided to voice your curiosity.

A knowing glance passed between the two.

"It's another name I am called by.”

Oh.

"Lucienne go on,”

"There were further abruptions reported earlier around the house of mystery and..."

You were no longer paying attention to Lucienne's speech as your gaze travelled along the enormous cracks dividing the ground.

"Sorry to interrupt but is this part of the decor?" You asked the both of them.

"No," Morpheus sighed, "and that precisely is why you are here.”

"You don't have construction crew around here?"

Morpheus clenched his jaw, "We have Mervin, however this problem does not concern him. It runs deeper than you can comprehend.”

"Then help me comprehend," you said.

Morpheus eyes' pierced into yours, "All in time mortal."

Your legs dangled below you from where you sat in the library. As promised, Lucienne had shown you around and to say you were mesmerized beyond your wits would be a brutal understatement. You were in the dreaming, an entirely different realm, sitting in its library that towered even after you stretched your neck to its capacity, and were going through books that no mortal would have ever had the luxury of touching or even knowing that such pieces exist. Not to mention, having spoken with an Endless. An Endless? The king of Dreams himself. For a second you feared if you were dreaming again. But the old pinch sufficed to make you believe the opposite. But why? How? Your mind was a muddling mess. Guaranteed you had your fair share of weirdness working with the dead boy detectives but this was something entirely else. The librarian had introduced you to Mervin, who to your astonishment was actually a pumpkin head. You were after all in the realm of the dreams, if anything was possible, it was here. A sudden caw pulled you from your spiraling. A crow perched on your shoulders. No a raven? Was this…the raven from before? The one you had glanced in the living room's window?

"Hi kid, I am Matthew."

You weren't as taken aback as you thought you would be at the talking raven. You were slowly getting used to all the craziness.

"Hi Matthew, I am Hazel.”

"Pretty name.”

"Flattery doesn't work on me, just for your information," you stated, your gaze fixed on the words in the book propped open on your lap. "It might serve the goth guy you work for stalker.” You narrowed your eyes at the raven.

"Ooh, a feisty mortal, nice you and I would get along very well.”

And you both did. It would have been just minutes chatting away with Mathew but as your laughs erupted in the silence around you, you felt you had known the guy forever, the raven, oh the raven that had been a guy once.

"Matthew," Dream's cold tone quieted you both. “Leave us alone.”

"Yes boss," the raven obeyed.

"Accompany me,” Dream said as he turned away expecting you to follow behind.

Arrogant.

You fell in with him, a question on your lips when the gates to the palace opened. The question forgotten, your mouth parted in amazement as you stared at the vast expanse of gardens before you. You exited the palace steps, incredulity lingering on your face as you inhaled the sheer exquisiteness of the place you were in.

Dream ushered his head in a direction. "Come," and continued that way.

You jogged to match up his pace.

"What do you know about the Endless?" He asked.

"Very little," you admitted, "I mean I know there are seven of them, Death being one and now you apparently, but I'm afraid that's about all the knowledge I have."

"It is still more than what humans generally know about us."

"Well it's the courtesy of my friends.”

"Ah, your ghost friends," he disclosed.

You stopped in your tracks. "You know?"

"That they are ghosts?" He walked on.

"Yeah I just wondered- I figured you didn't know and that's why you didn't tell Death.”

"Oh Death knows," he revealed the information with a glint in his eye, as if he was enjoying your reaction.

"What?" You cried. Gathering yourself, you said, "Then why doesn't she..go after them? Bring them to the sunless lands and whatever?" You joined him.

"Death has her reasons. She is far kinder than you know.”

"I, I don't know what to say."

Morpheus did not try to continue the conversation. You both walked in silence for some time. Questions ran rampant inside your head, but never left your lips.

"Ask," he said not tearing his eyes away from the path.

You didn't even realize he had sensed your hesitation. Questions grappled with each other to be released first and in that brawl you muttered the stupidest of them all. "How many names do you have?"

If Morpheus was surprised at the choice of your question, he didn't show it. "Many.”

Wow okay that was one elaborate answer if you heard any. Did it pain him to speak?

Just as you had accepted that's all you would get from him, he spoke, "Dream, Morpheus, Oneiros and Sandman to name a few.”

"The Sandman? As in the fable Sandman?"

"Tell me mortal, do I look like a fable to you?"

"Fair point," you mused.

Taking the opportunity of his answering mood, you exploited your luck further. "Can the mortals visit the dreaming anytime? I mean how does this even work?"

"Yes, whenever a mortal sleeps, he enters my realm where I contain the unconscious of the entire world.”

"That sounds…tough.”

"Does this mean I am sleeping right now?" You queried further.

"Exceptionally, no. I brought you here. Your soul and your body are both intact at the present and there is no trace of you in the waking world."

Your mouth opened once more to ask him another question, when his raspy voice cut through the air. “You get one more.”

The ego of this man, fine you insolent arse.

"Do you ever get lonely?"

If you were paying rapt attention you would have noticed the falter in his steps but your eyes were trained on his face.

"No," he answered.

"Seriously? Not ever?"

"You have run out of your questions and your friends must be waiting for you." He turned his body towards you. 

But before he could procure his pouch of sand from his cloak, the ground gave a sudden croak beneath you. Followed by a deafening cracking as the very ground you stood upon began parting into two.

"What the-," you started.

Dream grabbed your elbow and pulled his cloak over you both. The universe itself seemed to wrap around you and in the next moment you were in the waking world. He released his hold on your elbow as if your touch had burned him. He would probably need to wash his hands after touching a mortal.

"Stay here," he ordered.

Before you could object, he had vanished. You waited in the clearing, the stack of posters on the ground and the moon bathing you in its light. You were gone for more than half a day but only a few hours had passed back here. Times moves differently here, Lucienne's words entered your mind. After waiting another 10 minutes, you got up from your position on the ground, collected the posters in your hand, and began to make your way back to the apartment. He wasn't coming back.

Just as you were out the woods, Morpheus' voice reached your ears. "I told you to stay there.”

You turned back. Moonlight filtering through the trees illuminated his pale skin to ghastly pale. He looked beautiful. What? Shut up brain.

"I thought you weren't coming back."

Morpheus didn't say anything to that. This guy really needed to work on his communication skills.

"What was back there?"

"The realm is collapsing, at the rate of the damage we have very little time."

"For what?"

"To prevent it from happening.”

"But-"

"Rest tonight mortal. We begin tomorrow." And with those obscure words he was gone in a blur.

You opened the door to the apartment and were immediately met with yelling. "Where the fuck were you?"

"You just totally vanished!"

"We searched for you everywhere!"

"Why weren't you answering your phone?"

"We were worried!"

Charles and Edwin's frenzied voices overlapped each other.

"Guys guys stop!"

They both fell silent.

"I am sorry I-I had to be somewhere on an urgent business and my phone died down."

"Next time the very least you can do is inform us beforehand," Edwin chided you.

"I swear the situation was out of my control, I promise it won't happen again."

Edwin's features softened and he asked, "Are you alright?"

You exhaled, "Yep I am aces."

"Get your own catchphrases," Charles muttered behind you and draped his arms around your neck from the back. "We are just glad you are back safe and in one piece.”

You leaned against his frame. "You can't even lie properly.”

"Hey sod off.” He broke apart the embrace.

You laughed at his tantrums.

"Anyways you wouldn't believe the adventure we had today. It was brills. Turns out the missing boy was actually..."

Yeah you wouldn't believe the adventure I had today either.  We begin tomorrow, the words scraped against the walls of your mind.

A/N: phew the stage is set. so lmk ur thoughts<3 i would love to hear em!! 

SERIES MASTERLIST ✧˖°.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve is definitely Eddie's bisexual awakening. Eddie stared at Steve's ass thinking that he's just jealous because he wished he could have an ass like Steve's. And, of course, he accidentally flirted with Steve.

"Hey, Steve, how does one get a great ass like that?" Eddie asked him one day.

Steve's blushing, partly because he's really flattered and partly because Eddie asked him that in front of the entire party. Eddie's blinking at him, not realizing at all what he just asked.

"Well?"

It wasn't until long after he got home and when he was drifting off to sleep that he made his realization. Eddie sat up in bed, eyes wide.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! OH MY GOD! OH. MY. GOD!"

"Boy! Why is it that whenever you have a crisis, it has to be so damn loud?! I'm actually working days for once. Let me sleep," Wayne said, pausing. "We'll discuss it in the morning if you want to."

Wayne had his own room now. Unfortunately, the rooms were right next to each other. Eddie waited until he was fast asleep again before he wrote a note and left still wearing his pj's. Pretty soon, he was pounding on Steve’s door, and Steve was opening it, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Eddie?"

"Did you know about me? I mean, could you like detect it even if I didn't know about it?" Eddie asked. "Could you, like, sniff it out?"

"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, but come on in," Steve said.

"You told me about you being bisexual. Did you know about me?" Eddie asked when Steve closed the door behind him.

"Uh, honestly, no. Is that what this is about? I'll go put on some coffee. You go ahead and continue freaking out if you need to, big boy," Steve said.

"JESUS H CHRIST! I called you big boy! How did I not know then?!" Eddie asked.

When Steve came back with two mugs of coffee, Eddie was fast asleep on his couch. Steve sighed and set them on the coffee table. The phone rang, and Steve rushed to answer it before it could wake up Eddie.

"Hello?"

"Steve, it's Wayne. Is Eddie there?"

"Yeah, he came in here freaking out. He's asleep now."

"Did he say why he was freaking out?"

"Yeah, but - "

"But you don't want to say? Thanks for respecting his privacy. If he wants to tell me, then he will when he's ready. You should know that when he freaks out like this and then falls asleep, he's going to wake up again. Be prepared, son."

"Yeah, I'll look after him."

"Thanks. I'm going to get some rest. Good night, and good luck."

"Goodnight."

Steve hung up the phone and walked back into the living room. He grabbed a magazine off of the table and began flipping through it while sipping his coffee. Eddie sat up suddenly, and Steve nearly spilled his coffee.

"Oh my God! I was hitting on you!" Eddie exclaimed. "I said you had a great ass!"

"There it is," Steve said, putting down his magazine.

"I like both," Eddie said, not looking at Steve.

"It's totally normal to - ," Steve said.

"I like both!" Eddie said again. "This is so, so - "

"Eddie?"

"This is so. . .METAL!" Eddie exclaimed, grinning.

"Okay, not the reaction I was expecting, but then again, you're Eddie Munson, so what was I expecting?" Steve asked, grinning fondly.

Eddie slid to the floor in front of him, grin still firmly in place.

"Do you know what this means?" Eddie asked.

"I could guess," Steve said.

"Steve," Eddie said, and then the grin slid off his face. "This is just another gender that's just going to reject me."

"Well, I already know one guy who's interested," Steve said with a smirk, and Eddie was smiling again.

"Oooh, who is it? I bet it's Jeff. Is it Jeff? I'm just now realizing that I do think he's handsome," Eddie said.

"I don't know," Steve said, scowling. "He better not be."

"Okay, who else could it be?" He asked, tapping his chin. "Oh, man, is it Mike? One, he's way too young, and honestly, I think of him like a younger brother. . .like a really annoying younger brother. I'd hate to be there for that conversation. Can you reject him for me?"

"I like you, Eddie," Steve said softly.

"I like you too, man," Eddie said, blinking rapidly at him.

He still didn't get it. Steve rolled his eyes. He cupped Eddie's face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Steve pulled back quickly, smiling at him.

"So, are you going to tell me who it is, or am I going to have to keep guessing?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Steve growled.

Eddie giggled and leaned forward to capture his lips with his. He quickly broke the kiss.

"I knew when you said that you knew a guy," Eddie said. "I just wanted to see if I could make you jealous if I mentioned that I think Jeff is handsome."

"So, you do think he's handsome," Steve said with narrowed eyes.

"He's nothing compared to you, baby," Eddie replied and then paused. "And as much as I would love nothing more than to make out with you, can we talk for a while?"

"Absolutely," Steve said softly.

So, they sat on the couch, sipping their coffee while they talked with Eddie's legs planted firmly in Steve's lap. Steve talked about how he always sort of knew, and he told Eddie about his first male crush. Eddie had been disappointed that it hadn't secretly been him. They talked for a long time with the conversation ending with them deciding that they were boyfriends. Steve and Eddie fell asleep on the couch, entangled in each other.