#[He's Got His Gun He's Got His Suit On >> Human AU]

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I Never Missed You 1/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 3.5 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: 1/3 You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. The first chapter features banter and pining. If you're here for smut, stay tuned. There is an entire chapter of it coming right up.

Your lawyer says it would be a good idea. He even dares to look at you from under his brow like you're a child who doesn't know what's good for her.

And you don't.

Because that's exactly how you feel like: a grown woman who's stunted to a kid, now being supervised by adults. 

The bodyguard they assigned you - the one you accepted because he was your lawyer's first choice - is exactly the broad, brooding type you have always imagined bodyguards to be like.

But he's not wearing sunglasses, and he's not wearing a suit. He says the point of a bodyguard is that they don't look like a bodyguard. 

The first thing you actually pay attention to is the milky-white eyelashes. Only days after you hear that this man rarely shows his face. You were given a file on him, but you never peeked inside it because you were pissed that such drastic measures had to be taken in the first place. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Now you pry it from the pile of papers you buried it into, open it, and the first - and only - photo you see is a perfect portrayal of what Death looks like. 

He's the Reaper himself when adorned with that human skull. Keen but emotionless eyes stare from the pits of the sockets to somewhere in the distance, but that look is a stare into the past. The photo raises thousands of questions, and not only the need to know why this man prefers to wear human bones when he's shooting people.

Because apparently, that’s what he used to do before he became a bodyguard. He's buff, that you already know. But in that picture, he looks even more packed, with what you suppose is a bullet vest beneath that blouse. He’s holding an ugly-looking gun – not a pistol, but a rifle of some sort. The gear on him no doubt weighs something close to 60 pounds. His sleeves are rolled up and expose the crisscross veins on his forearms along with war-ugly, crude tattoos, and you swallow. 

Were you really looking at a picture of a barbaric soldier like it was some peculiar soft porn now?

You flip the file closed and toss it on the table, rather disgusted with yourself.

The next time you see him, you look into those brown eyes a moment longer. That stoic stare is the only thing you recognize as that of the man in the picture. That, along with his size, although photos really can't convey how this brooding grunt makes you feel: small and insignificant. Nor do they illustrate how the man looks like he’s the most graceful bull in a china shop when moving inside your house.

You suppose he grew up poor, the way he looks at your furniture, your half-a-mile bookshelf, and the latest art piece you got last month in your living room. He's judging you. 

You're posh. And clueless. And a child.

And this brute lives with you, for now. He's placed downstairs until the target is neutralized. And he's not just a bodyguard: he's hunting the hunter while you're the bait.

It should give you a thrill; your friend giggles when you two gossip about him over a lunch while he's standing only a few feet away. But this situation does not give you a thrill. It just makes you pissed.

And it's not just the situation, it's this... Simon Riley who makes you pissed.

Couldn't they teach manners, some conversation skills at the bodyguard school or wherever the hell this pale, emotionless Hulk came from?

You recheck his file and snoop some more details about his past. He didn't go to bodyguard school (of course he didn't); he used to work for some PMC. The brute's a cold-blooded, cold-hearted mercenary. To put it more eloquently, he's an elite soldier of some tactical unit. But all of that is classified, as is almost every other detail about him. The only thing you are left with is that he's British through and through, but you can already tell that by his accent - the thick Mancunian that makes your stomach and heart flip.

It's gruff – of course it's gruff – and sometimes chafes your ears like they were being grated with the softest grater. You find yourself thinking about him while you're in the shower, when your fingers start to drift and wander.

And for the love of god, you are not thinking about that accent and those eyes while you're masturbating. You're not going to mourn the fact that he never rolls his sleeves when he's with you. When he's at work.

"I saw your file," you start to chitchat over breakfast one day.

"I reckon."

He won't even touch the coffee you poured him but proceeds to drink almost all the tea. The delicate china looks miniature in his hands as he pours the Earl Grey into his cup. The cups are dainty, too – this savage would prefer a large, black mug, perhaps, from which to gulp his tea.

"So. What made you become a soldier?"

"Joined the SAS when I was 17."

And another thing he won't do is look at you when you speak. No manners at all in this man, only rough, sharp edges. He sits as far from you as he can, at the other end of the table, as if you were in a meeting. Or a war council.

"That's not what I asked."

"I know."

You roll your eyes. Conversation skills, god. Just give this man at least some charm…

"I'm going to do some shopping," you declare. "You can stay here."

Finally, he raises his stare. It's full of tired distaste.

"Nah. That's not how this works."

You rise from the table, gracefully and with a neutral face, indicating that you are an adult and won't be needing a babysitter at a store.

"Lady." 

The command is dark and stops you before you have taken one step from the table. It's a slur, almost.

He rises from the table too, and you almost feel sorry, noticing he hasn't yet finished his toast.

"You hired me. And I'm gonna do my job."

He looks big and broad, like a beautiful storm, with that piercing stare and the most alluring lashes you have ever seen on a man. Your voice turns into a meek, pitched attempt to reason with a giant.

"...I'm just going shopping."

His head tilts with a mock: you're only a child in his eyes. 

"Then let's go shopping."

…......…......

Sitting next to this giant in a taxi must be a hilarious-looking scene. A charming, vibrant lady and a sullen, intimidating Theseus – what a pair.

You've also never been this close to him. The man always sits with a wide spread. One heavy thigh almost touches your knees, which you have turned towards him for some unfathomable reason. You were taught to sit with knees closely set together, and that’s what you’re trying to do now: make yourself as small and feminine as possible. It only accentuates this man's size compared to yours. There's a pile of shopping bags between you two, and your gaze is directed outside the window, but you can feel his presence like there's a thrumming monolith beside you.

And he's always dressed in black. You kind of enjoyed how you two looked at the store: you in your heels and a pearl white suit, he in black, tactical ripstop and boots. You wouldn't define the man well-dressed… but he is sharply dressed in his own field, that's for sure. Even a commoner like you could see that.

He had complained about your clothes. White draws too much attention and makes for a bigger target. You had brushed him off with a scoff. You’re not going to change the way you dress because of this.

"You're from Manchester, right?"

You're only trying to make the journey home more enjoyable, but feel like you're snooping again, this time from the man himself. The less you know about Simon Riley, the more you want to learn who he is. It is only natural to get a little curious when his file barely had two paragraphs and a photo. You suppose even that single picture was taken and given forward with reluctance. 

And the only thing you learn is that small talk is a completely foreign concept to this man.

"You're quite the Sherlock," he mutters with that fat accent that gave him away the minute you two shook hands. You Sherlock about some more, look at the left hand that rests on his thigh.

There's no ring. Not even a tan line. He must be lonely: no relationship could stand working hours like these.

"Do you still live there?"

"...No."

"Do you miss the place?"

"No."

The short answers are guttural and spoken from the back of his throat. You don't know if he's doing it on purpose, or if this Simon is like this with everyone. He's not annoyed, though, not the way you're beginning to be.

"Aren't you a chatty one…" you mumble while watching cloudy London pass by. You figured he might hear it, and perhaps that was your purpose, even if your voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm not here to talk. Ma'am."

…......…......

You are told to stay away from the windows. The dinner table is moved so no one can aim at your head through a glass. And even then, most curtains must be closed at all times. 

He goes through doors first, and advises against going out at all. You get a list of things you should take into consideration if you do go out.

And you’re not going to give in to fear.

You simply take different routes to your friends and family, have lunches at different restaurants than usual. He says you should get an armored car, but you don’t have a license. Of course your brooding bodyguard could drive, but what will you do with some armored tank after you're finally through this thing?

What's far more interesting is that it turns out this Simon Riley is a smoker.

Disgusting, you think at first, then think about him all sweaty and grimy after some gunfight, reaching for a cig, curling those thick fingers around a pure-white coffin nail. No, wait – he had gloves in that picture; he wouldn't bother to take them off before he smoked, he would just lean on his gun and on some crumbling wall and sigh from the joy of being alive, of being bloodied and dirty and victorious before taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Ugh.

Reluctantly you agree that perhaps there is an odd charm to this man after all. Either that, or then you are in need of some serious therapy.

Breakfasts are torturingly quiet with Simon, and you can hear the slow roll of eyes every time you make plans to go to a party or an art gallery.

Once, a zipper gets stuck and you have to ask him for help. It’s mortifying, and he doesn’t say a word, only mocks you with his eyes as you turn around for him to place a warm hand on your hip and another on your back to pull up the zipper you had fought to reach and drag up by yourself for at least 10 minutes.

A week passes, and he’s buried in work, not only because he’s guarding your body 24/7, but because he’s trying to locate the hitman. The fact that Simon Riley is technically speaking a hitman too - to think that you have hired a killer - is something you don’t have the mental strength to delve into right now.

"Found the one who's hunting you."

Another file is dropped before you at the end of the week. The man marches into your office like there's no door there at all. Doesn't even bother to knock. 

This isn't what you meant when you politely told him to make himself home…

You roll the glass of water on your temple and sigh. The file reveals another photo, this time of a man who looks like an executioner.

"Goes by the name König," he says and clasps his hands over his crotch while taking a wide stance in front of your desk. "Austrian war criminal. Skilled with knives… Likes to torture people first."

Nice. More brutes.

"Why are you telling me this?" 

You're tired, there's a headache approaching, and you really don't care to go over some details about a professional lunatic killer right now. But Simon Riley - codenamed Ghost, you’ve lately learned - looks down at you like a storm cloud over a carefree meadow.

"Because you clearly don't understand the danger you're in." 

He adds "Ma'am" as a footnote. Purposely forgotten...

And you wish he would forget that silly, overly courteous term.

"Well–" you sigh your frustration in the air between you two, then realize that perhaps you're being treated like a child because you behave like one. "What are you going to do about this man...?"

"Gonna kill him," he simply shrugs, the eternal, distant look in those eyes gaining a smug tone to them. 

He enjoys this. Enjoys killing, but what's even worse, enjoys seeing how his ruthlessness makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Or perhaps he just likes shocking you with that file with an image of a lyncher in it. You know perfectly well that you're in trouble and under threat. That's what you've tried to forget, but no one lets you forget.

Simon takes a deep breath before placing his humble petition before you.

"Ma’am. I'm gonna need your help."

And nothing in this man is humble. Even though he rarely speaks and never shows his talents, not to talk of showing off, he reeks of pride and testosterone.

You set the glass on the table and straighten the file to align with the leather pad on your desk. Your fingers are not trembling. Yet.

"What do you mean?" 

He gives a hoarse laugh. The sound drills straight to your core and starts to bloom there. You realize you have never seen him smile before. And he's not smiling now: the short laugh is just a dark chuckle that mainly stays inside his chest; it only makes those stocky shoulders rise and fall.

"Not like that," he looks down at you with a tad of mercy. "You're gonna serve as bait."

"Isn't… that what I've been the whole time?"

"Yeah. But this time, we're gonna lure him in."

The way he talks makes your thighs rub together without your consent. You wonder what it would feel like if you were trapped between that solid chest and a wall, what it would be like if those hands woke you up with a calloused caress of a thigh.

You don't quite understand the difference between bait and a lure but find yourself willing to do whatever you can to help him. Help Simon…

"Sure... I'll help you," you say as if this man wasn't on your payroll.

"That's the least you could do."

That barely hidden bite in his dry retort doesn't escape you. This man's audacity buries whatever odd want you have started to feel for him and replaces it with searing, womanly fury. 

He could be a little more sensitive.

You're the one who has a target on their back. You're the one who fears going to sleep at night and feels lucky they're alive come dawn. If he wasn't so crude and uncaring, you would've asked him to sleep in the same room with you from the start. But he has to be a brute, has to follow and mock you with those ink blot eyes at every turn.

You rise from the chair when he turns and walks toward the door. It's almost a snappy jump, an attempt to reclaim your power. You're sore and thoroughly peeved.

"I never wanted this," you tell him with an annoying timbre in your tone. He stops right before the door but doesn't turn.

"Neither did I."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Could be somewhere warmer with no damsels giving me their cheek."

The BDU blouse you saw in that picture was yellow, burnt yellow. Desert wear… He wants to be in a hot desert with a cold gun in his hand. Dropped straight from some plane, working alone, in a place where damsels aren't giving him their cheek. Where there are no damsels at all. 

You're relatively sure there is no Mrs. Riley. No woman could stand this man.

"Then go somewhere warmer," you snap, almost stomp your heel on the soft carpet. This man is simply intolerable. The way he never reacts to anything makes you want to throw things at him. 

He must be trained to be so calm, but you're not. You're used to making men a little stupid and flustered. You're used to men eating out of your hand. He's not behaving at all like he's supposed to. Simon Riley is just a mountain without emotion.

He turns with that eternal, downgrading look in his eyes. There's a flash of amusement there, too.

Soddy bastard…

"Nah. Not until I've done my job."

His voice is warm now; the gruff and gravel make way to a smoothness that goes directly to your knees. Your lips part, and his eyes fall on your mouth just before he lifts his chin a hair of an inch.

"Your job…" you breathe, too furious to even rage or shout. 

Your fucking job.

Why did you even want this job if it's so–

"Yeah. My job. Some people got one."

You have to take support from the table with your fingertips. 

"Excuse me?"

There's the tiniest curve at the corner of his mouth before he takes his leave.

"Good night, ma'am."

…......…......

The next day, you start the breakfast by apologizing. 

You barely slept that night, first because of this man's utter nerve, then because your wrath eventually cooled down into a bleeding consciousness of how you must look in his eyes. 

He has accepted this job, something different from what he usually does, for reasons unknown to you. He might not be on some faraway battlefield where bullets fly past, but this is no less risky. The picture he showed you, the file on König, haunted your restless sleep last night – when you finally did get some sleep. 

You have been running around like everything’s normal when it’s not. The man’s just trying to do his job. 

And you're the one who hired him. Not your lawyer.

"I want to make peace," you coo while spreading some jam on toast. You expect Simon to finally melt a little. You might even get a smile. You secretly hope your reward is that this brute turns into a tamed lap dog you can feed some treats every now and then. 

The situation is thrilling: the beefiest man you have ever seen is going to kill someone for you. Even if he's being paid to do so, he is prepared to die for you. There's something incredibly sexy about that.

But there is silence at the other end of the table. Only the crunchy sounds of toast getting sugar on top can be heard.

"That so?" 

He doesn't sound like he's melting. He doesn't sound at all domesticated. He only sounds more and more amused.

"Yes. I'm happy that you're here," you put the toast down and turn to look at him with angel eyes.

He laughs. When he stops, he looks you up and down, then laughs some more, a silent, shoulder-shaking chuckle.

"I'm… I'm serious," you hurry to add. "I mean it. I haven't been treating you the way I should–"

"That's for sure."

You see more warmth in those eyes. But it's not because of your humble apology.

His eyes are trekking down the neckline of your blouse, and to your horror, you notice – feel – how one of the top buttons has opened, revealing much more than just some skin. You're pretty sure he gets an ample view of the fuchsia bra you're wearing underneath.

If you reach for that button now, you underline that he's not supposed to look, even if it's your mistake that you're so obscenely exposed. If you close it now, you tell him he's not allowed to look. And that's not entirely true.

"Will you forgive me?"

You feel like you're offering peace, or at least a truce, with more than just that peepy question. Because your breasts swell inside that blouse. They rise and fall with your breaths, your nipples grow hard from that look that stays down a bit longer before drifting back up. 

"There's nothing to forgive," he says, voice dropping a note or two. 

"Good," you swallow. The following sentence comes out so weakly that it's almost a whisper. "After all, I hired you."

"Ain't that the truth."

The dim glint in those eyes still holds you as a prisoner, and his tea is growing cold.

"Are we going shopping today?"

"No," you utter, dreading the next inevitable question.

"What then?"

"I… I have a yoga class."

"Of course you do."

…......…......

Taglist: @cumikering

[wooataes]

Bangtan’s Receptionist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader, implied ot7 x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mafia AU, swearing, Death, blood, injuries, mentions of human trafficking but nothing too detailed, guns, character death.

Summary: Bangtan’s contracts are clear and concise. They are to be followed to the letter, including the most important rule, do not touch their men.

A/N: Just another generic Mafia Yoongi Drabble I couldn’t stop thinking about since Haegeum came out. 🫠 I could possibly turn this into a little oneshot series for each member, let me know if you want more!

- Tae 🥰💜✨

Request to join my taglist here!

Masterlist

Min Yoongi, in simple terms, is a straight cut business man. With his 6 other colleagues, his brothers, he runs Bangtan Industries, which on the outside seems like a clean cut courier company. On the inside however, the cargo that is transported by Bangtan Industries is more than just letters and stationary for offices. Yoongi and his boys, as the rivals know them, are extremely loyal to their men who work alongside and under them, even so far as to including in contracts that they can be terminated if any harm comes to any member of Bangtan Industries, even as far as the janitor who cleans the office on weekends. Any attack on their men is an attack to them directly, and the whole world knows of this fact.

You were hired 3 years ago by the CEO of Bangtan, Kim Namjoon to be the front of the company, their receptionist and on occasion, assistant for all 7 leaders. They’re all particularly fond of your bubbly presence in the office building, always happily greeting the bosses with a smile and providing homemade lunches on occasion, which usually is more often than not. You always make sure the boys keep their health up, not even phased by their attitudes when they spent too many hours without sleep. You’ve been the most consistent employee, and the members are more than grateful to have you.

“Good morning, Master Min!” You chirp as Min Yoongi strolls through the office door, adjusting his tie. He can’t help but give you a soft smile.

“Y/N, you know that I’d rather you call me Yoongi when its just us. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, I know, I’m just way too used to it!” You grin as you place a take-away coffee cup and a wrapped toasted sandwich on the desk in front of you. “Breakfast is served.”

“You also don’t have to do that every morning too.” He lets out a huff with a grateful smile. “I hope you got your usual too. If I find out you didn’t, I’m forcing you to take your break early to go get.” Yoongi chuckles as you wave the second paper cup on your hands. He nods with finality and takes your makeshift breakfast for him and makes his way to his office.

After a quiet morning, you’re startled by a loud bang of the doors to the entrance opening and a large man in a 3 piece suit with his gaggle of men trailing in behind him, clearly armed, stalking up to your front desk.

“Good morning, sir. How can I be of help today?” You hum, the large men not phasing you.

“We’re here to see Min.” The man grumbles, hands squeezing the edge of the desk.

“Oh of course,” you smile, typing up on your computer. “Give me a few moments to see if he’s available to see anyone right now.”

You can feel the mans eyes on you as you’re typing, waiting for the response to pop up.

“Ah, I’m sorry sir, Master Min isn’t available right now. You are more than welcome to take a seat and wait until he’s ready-”

You yelp as the man reaches over, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up so you are face to face with him. You wince, his nails digging into your skin and small trickles of blood running down your arm.

“Listen here, you little bitch,” he seethes, “i have been trying to get on Min’s ass for 2 weeks about my fucking cargo I purchased from him and it still hasn’t arrived yet. If you don’t get him out here, I’m storming in there myself and getting my shit back.”

“What on earth is going on here?” Yoongi steps out from his office after hearing the commotion, adjusting the cuff on his white button up as he stalks up to the reception desk. “Ah, Mr Yang. I was waiting for you to show up.”

“Min.” Yang hissed, dropping your wrist and pushing you back into your seat, which Yoongi takes note of. “Where the fuck is my cargo? You said it would be here within the month and yet its the 27th and nothing.”

“Miss L/N.” Yoongi speaks, causing you to snap your head towards him. “Did he hurt you?” He eyes your wrist, which you’re trying to hide under the desk, clearly not very well as it is still in Yoongi’s line of vision.

“O-oh, no, Master Min. I’m fine, really.” You stutter out, giving him a smile.

“I will deal with you after I take care of business.” He murmurs, looking down at your hidden wrist, blood smearing into your blouse. “Mr Yang, if you could come inside. I do believe my receptionist shouldnt have to deal with the likes of this, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone is icy as Yang grunts, nodding his head before pushing past Yoongi and strutting through into his office with his men following behind. “Y/N, I would recommend playing sone music for the next 10 minutes, okay?” is the last thing Yoongi asks of you before closing the door behind him.

“I dont understand why you are so upset, Yang. I gave you exactly what you asked for.” Yoongi hums, sitting at his desk and watching Yang and his men stand over the desk menacingly.

“Thats bullshit and you know it, Min.” He barked, slamming his fist on the table.

“Oh, is it?” He raises his eyebrow, leaning forward and placing his chin on his hands. “Do explain why, because the way I see it, you asked for X amount of drugs and X amount of guns and ammo. Am I wrong?”

“You know what half of those drugs were code for, you ignorant shit.”

“Oh, no no no.” Yoongi chuckled, standing up, revolver in hand. “See, now, if you were implying what you think you are implying, and I truly hope you’re not, then you’ve worked with the wrong man.” He smirked, holding the gun up towards Yang.

“You see, if you read through the terms of our contract - Bangtan do not associate with anything involving trafficking women and children. I truly hope that isnt what you wanted.” Yoongi tilted his head, glaring at Yang. “Is it?”

Yang swallowed lightly, looking between his men, who all have their guns by their sides and their hands up. They know Min’s reputation. They know better than to fuck with them.

“Ah…” Yang sighed anxiously, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You are right. I believe I was mistaken. It appears that all our cargo was in order. Isn’t that right, boys?” He glanced between his men, who all nod shakily. “Now that we have that misunderstanding out of the way, I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about, so I will take my leave now, Min.” He turns to leave, only to freeze when the revolver now presses against his temple.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Yoongi chuckles, kicking Yang’s knees out from underneath him, forcing him to kneel. “I would’ve been willing to let you go, no questions asked about what fucked up shit you’re into,” he leans down now, whispering into his ear. “but then you laid hands on my receptionist.”

Yang’s eyes widen, struggling against Yoongi’s boot digging into his legs. “What?” he breathed out.

“Did you even read the contract, Yang?” Yoongi hissed now, pressing the gun harder against his head. “Now, you are more than welcome to come in here, ranting and raving about me and the shit I do, I really couldnt give a flying fuck.. but as soon as you touch my people and my men, now theres fucking hell to pay. Rule number fucking 3 my friend. Do NOT touch my men. Do you have anything to say to defend your pathetic ass?”

“I’m sorry,” Yang blubbers out, hands shaking. “I really didn’t mean it, Min! I-I-”

“Save it for hell, Yang.” He squeezes the trigger, letting the body fall to the floor.

“Come on,” you hissed, aggressively rubbing water over the sleeve of your blouse, earphones blaring music in your ears as Yoongi directed. You’ve been scrubbing for 5 minutes and sadly nothing is working for you. At this point, you haven’t even looked at your arm, now bruising and stained with small trails of your blood.

A figure steps into your line of sight, causing you to lift your head quickly and push the headphones off your head. “Oh, Master Min!” You gasp out, seeing his white shirt splattered with blood. “Did you need me to get your shirt booked in to the dry cleaner?” You start typing up the website to get the booking made when you feel his hand take your wrist.

“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asks quietly, looking down at you through his eyelashes, letting his fingertips run along the marks Yang left.

“O-oh.. um.. a little, but nothing I cant handle!” You smile sweetly at him as he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all.” He frowns, using a damp cloth to gently wipe away the trails of your blood before taking some paper towel and drying your arm off. “I do apologize, you didn’t sign up to deal with that shit. I should have been out here waiting for Yang’s arrival.”

“Master Min,” you smiled softly, letting him tend to your arm - you knew it made him feel better when he helped Bangtan with their wounds. “Please don’t stress, I knew what I signed up for for this job.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he delicately starts placing bright pink Hello Kitty band-aids over your scratch marks.

“Dont laugh.” He grumbles, patting the band-aids down so they stick. “Jimin insisted that we got these to make Taehyung laugh whenever he was hurt.” He lied, Jimin had snuck to you that Yoongi kept his Hello Kitty band-aids with him just in case any of the girls in the office - another word for just you and you alone - were hurt - he just never got to use them until now. But you’d never tell him that you knew. Instead, you just smile and let Yoongi tend to your wounds.

It may not be the best job in the world, but at least you know your bosses have your back.

[kartonkartonski]

ONE PIECE Pirate AU

What if OP world had real pirate vibe / What if our 1700s had people strikingly similar to OP characters + magic

DISCLAIMER i have the opposite of Same Face Syndrom + cant draw women lol yes the faces are real human ispired

LUFFY - Brazilian / Caribbean kid from a random ass poor village Hat, vest, pants, sandals - made more historically accurate (mmha)

ZORO - Japanese but raised abroad in Turkey or sth idk Hair - green hair dont exist lol Shirt, pants, boots - mmha Eyepatch - a piratey touch

NAMI - Swedish but adopted and raised in Spain or Italy or idk Clothes - mmha + made her more tomboyish Head cloth - piratey touch

USOPP - Italian mum + African father (unthinkable!) (european colonies in South Africa or sth) Clothes mmha The prankster he is, he carries fake prosthetic hook and peg leg and a fake swordsheath. I bet he has a fake parrot and an eyepatch he doesnt use. The gun is real and replaces slingshot

SANJI - French cook in the Mediterrenean Eyebrows - curly eyebrows dont exest stupid Hair - mmha Suit - mmha Cigs - replaced with a pipe Golden tooth - he got scurvy on that stranded island

CHOPPER - Canadian reindeer (caribou) General look - now he look like a real reindeer huh. No wonder why he was feared by the peeps Hat - early american settler-like Pants - mmha + piratey stripes

NICO - Russian originally associated with mafiozo Krokodil The dress is how i imagine her to dress like when working with Krokodil Hat, boots - mmha + more piratey Riding suit - she looked like cowboy in early OP so i gave her riding clothes

FRANKY - American, self-made clockwork cyborg who uses word "super" quite often (it was a thing in early 1700s!) Hair - Cyan hair dont exist idiot + made it cool and epic for 1700 standards Metal nose - screwed to skull Shirt - mmha Underwear - yes its underwear mmha Robo parts - clockwork coz no steam engines back then + wooden doll-looking Peg leg - hides a gun

BROOK - Austrian musician, his crew died hit by a plague Hat - mmha Afro - no afro in 1600-1700 sorry Justacorps - 1600s-ish coz he old af Yohoho

JIMBEE - Now a real FISHman, a real WHALESHARK and a real INDIAN (Oda said hes indian) yup thats about that FOLLOW FOR MORE

[year2000electronics]

Your fiddleford monster au design makes me have so many questions in a good way. Gnawing on the bars on my enclosure kind of way. Does the curse seemingly not affect him in his one year stay helping Ford, and so he does that all himself? Does The Curse, as vague as it is, count that; and drive people to modify themselves and draw away from humanity? Like its not just this magical effect that happens but an active thing in the back of your mind to turn away from what you were born as and embrace something else? Ogh. I'm suddenly a lot more invested in this au

VERY INTERESTING QUESTIONS TO BE CERTAIN so fiddleford is a bit of a unique case where his "monster" theming is tied directly to his decline yes!

full answer under the cut it got long

in my mind, monster falls' curse is tied directly to gravity falls' natural law of weirdness magnetism/"the barrier" keeping bill in. once youve stayed there long enough for the curse to even BEGIN, it becomes harder to leave the town. you just feel drawn to it, and a dull ache in your soul if you leave. so obviously, when ford gets turned into a mothman, he does fully accept that because hes always felt more cryptid than man. but when the time comes for him to ask fiddleford for help, he lays out that "hey, youd be doing me a BIG favour if you came to help with the portal, but this town curses you if you stay for too long so itll only be a few weeks, i promise"

fidds agrees, because hey, whats a few weeks with an old friend? besides, he'll have his wife and son as an anchor to go back to. but the more he thinks about it, the more he likes staying with ford, the more he's reminded of those old times, and the more the curse starts influencing those kinds of thoughts to get louder and louder (but its not ALL the curse you know. still some autonomy in the situation) and so he keeps postponing his return date, almost "tempting fate" about the curse, because he doesn't really feel any different! his friend sprouted wings and antennae! he'd know by now, so he won't check! and ford shrugs and is like "well, alright, it's your choice, we can surely get a little closer to the point of no return"

and yknow, fiddleford denying that the curse could possibly be affecting him is almost like him in canon struggling to reconcile with his two "lives"- his home life and his life with ford. he wants to have his cake and eat it too, because he's just too timid to ever say no.

anyways, one day he wakes up and realizing he's heard the sound of technology near him for a while, and looks around, and realizes it's following him from room to room-

the beeping IS him. it's definitely been a year, he's already been cursed. it's just that he's a robot that looks near-human, just near-human enough that he could turn a blind eye to it and pretend like it never happened and that everything was fine. which i think kinda suits how ford loves the supernatural to a very personal degree, meanwhile fidds got roped into the town by pure happenstance

but. yknow, being a robot that looks human means youre still a robot. and it's a lot harder to erase things from a robot's "brain" without causing some major problems. haven't you ever been programming something or filling out an html code, and then you accidentally delete one thing you thought was inconsequential and all of a sudden youre staring at just a wall of code that's busted because whatever you removed, you DEFINITELY SHOULD NOT HAVE removed?

parts of fiddleford just go kaput and start breaking because he's purposely taking out large chunks of code from his own brain that end up being collateral from the memory gun. because, yknow, the memory gun is imprecise! it was designed for human brains! cos thats what fidds was for years! so it's like if you tried to repair a computer by ripping out the motherboard with pliers

thats my take on it anyways. Ya

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 32

Part 1 Part 31

They’re all still just sitting there, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike talking quietly, El catatonic at his side. Will’s staring at the office door, like Jonathan will come rushing back through any moment.

He’s shivering, like he’s back in the Upside-Down, huddled between Eddie and Steve on the couch. Like he’s walking beside Eddie right now, looking for Steve. Like he’s curled up in Steve’s house, waiting for rescue. Like he’s not here at all.

Headlights flash across the windows of the office, breaking conversations and contemplations alike. Will and Mike jump up simultaneously. Mike yells, “Nancy!” and bolts for the door.

“Sit down!” Mom shouts. Will sits like there’s a magnet in his back pocket connecting him to the chair, and Mike scurries back like he’d been struck.

“But—” Mike starts, before Mom’s withering stare makes him slump back down into his seat.

“I'll go check it out,” she says, clearly frazzled. “Stay here.”

She walks out the door, shoulders back, head held high, like she’s off to war. She doesn’t even make it all the way through before she’s spinning back around, rushing back through the threshold and closing the door quietly, eyes wide. She looks at them all seated in rows, as if unsure of how they got there.

“Help me barricade the doors!” she says, rushing to the reception desk, and attempting to yank it across the carpet.

Will and Lucas move to help her, dragging the other side as quickly as possible.

“Who is—” Dustin starts, before being interrupted by Mom.

“Not now!” she hisses.

Mike moves to pick up chairs and start stacking them against the other entrance to the office. It leads into the school, but Will can hear men shouting and boots stomping, coming closer to the entrance of the school.

“Bad men,” El whispers. She’s standing, fists clenched, staring at the door.

Dustin goes pale and shuffled closer to El, brushing their shoulders, and elbows, and hips. Will wasn’t there, but he can picture them huddled together in the junkyard as people with guns circled the broken-down bus they’d bunkered down in. He wonders if the fear creeping up his spine now is the same as it was for them.

It's not like with the Demogorgon – a primal fear, almost past the point of humanity. Being hunted by a monster makes animals of them all. This feels more like when Jonathan and Will used to listen to records in his room, drowning out the sound of Lonnie screaming at Mom, of glass shattering across the linoleum floor. Just as dangerous, but they’ll be able to look into the eyes of the thing that kills them.

It’s a comfort. Will wonders what’s gone wrong in his brain that he’s barely scared at all.

El’s shaking hard enough that Dustin’s begun clutching her elbow to keep her up, Mike shoring up her other side. Will thinks maybe she’d prefer the gaping maw of a Demogorgon right now.

They’re in the school now. El flinches at the sound of each door being slammed open. His Mom stands in front of them, her small fists raised like she will be able to stop bullets with them. He thinks maybe she can. She’d found him through dimensions, talked to him through lights and a dash of hope. These ordinary men with ordinary suits and ordinary guns? They’d be nothing.

But then the door smashes into the chairs – once, twice, three times, before they’re sent toppling as the door caves in. Three people with guns and flashlights trained on their faces block the exit, penning them in. And the fear pours in.

“Freeze!” one of them shouts. His Mom doesn’t. She smashes her heel into the instep of one of the men. His gun goes off, skewed to the right from her jab. It barely misses the side of her face. “I said freeze,” he repeats, shoving her hard enough to send her toppling to the floor.

The man trains his gun at her head, and Will shouts, “no!” but he doesn’t look away from his target. He doesn’t notice the way El’s gone stiff and shaking. Not in time.

The lights start flickering, like the Demogorgon is slipping through the walls. Like when El was lost in that other place, looking for Steve. Will hopes it’s not the Demogorgon.

The sound that comes from all three of them is wrong. A squelching, meandering sound, like the blood in their brains is being squeezed out, wrung dry like a towel. Will watches as their eyes bleed down their faces, leaving them hollow husks, and feels nothing at all.

El drops a second later, taking Mike and Dustin down with her. There’s blood on her face, dripping from her nose and down onto the carpet.

“Don’t look,” Mom says, averting her eyes from the corpses now strewn across the floor. It doesn’t matter; no one’s taken their eyes away from El. She crawls over to El, putting two shaking fingers to her neck and closing her eyes, breathing deeply.

“What the hell?” Dustin says, looking down at where she’d half-landed on his lap.

Mike is crying beside her, saying her name over and over, like that will summon her back from wherever she’s gone.

He doesn’t stop until Mom breathes out a quiet, “oh thank god.”

The lights start flickering again, faster this time. El’s still laying there, motionless. He knows what it is before the gunshots begin. Before the screaming starts and doesn’t stop.

Mom bolts up and rushes to the door, shoving the desk out of the way, huffing with exertion. No one moves to help her. Will can’t stop staring at the door, waiting for the Demogorgon to silhouette itself in the doorway.

“Let’s go!” she says in an urgent whisper as she rushes back over to where El’s still laying, picking her up with a grunt.

The screams echo into the night as they rush out of the school. They follow his Mom through the parking lot, across the street, and straight into the woods.

None of them stop running for a long time.

Part 33

[dianesdiaries]

scorched earth| Homelander x Y/N

Synopsis/AU;Homelander becomes a madman after Vought decides they have the better facilities of taking care of Ryan, realizing the pain and abandonment he went through Ryan would believe his dad left him to face. In a fitted rage, he destroys the Vought building one by one, taking a life every minute it takes to return his boy. Y/N is assigned to the special forces team responsible for 'cleaning up his mess', and ensuring that nobody gets hurt. By the time special units have reached the building, Homeland's already taken a liking to toppling down dominoes.

TW: lots of violence in this one! I didn't really know what to write but I thought it would be a cool idea to see homelander go cray cray again lol

NOTE: this is short but I feel like would make a rlly good part 2 lmk!

I searched the premises top to bottom, looking for any signs of imperfections left behind in his massacre. God knows what he had in store for the rest of the world, and not one person has a single clue what could've led to this trajectory. I watched as bright stars peaked in the sky, cameras and vans swarming the building like bees to a nest. My gun slinged along my arm as I slowly watched the stars get closer, and closer..

It was bodies.

The sound of bones mushing into pavement made my stomach hurl. But when it rains, it pours. Dozens of civilians began falling from the sky, bouncing off the concrete in sync to the sounds of blood curling screams arising amongst viewers. I know, I was assigned to special forces for a reason. But he's lost his damn mind.

"All units, Move in! NOW! RIGHT FUCKING NOW! I SEE ONE MORE BODY DROPS ITS GONNA BE YOU!" The chief demanded, his coffee splattered across his long tattered coat in a fuel of rage. Hoisting into gear, I took one last look at the pain behind me. News vans scampered back and forth across the roads looking for a way out, avoiding the bloody trouble Homelander had flung into their direction. But something was wrong. I began to sweat, and it didn't stop. Drops of water began covering into my helmet vision, tactical gear cooking my body as the temperature increased. Metal scraping against brick made my ears squeal, quickly retreating into the building for safety. Red lasers danced across the city scape, quickly sawing whatever came into its way.

The building couldn't be any more worst than outside. Scarlet red painted the walls like an artists' touch, the main floor wiped of human life. I was assigned no other job but to simply talk to him, my guys in route watching closely as we made our way to the elevator. Quickly, I swiped my feet at the feeling of someone's touch, backing away in terror. There lay A-Train, who once was the world's fastest man quickly turned to nothing but broken bones. He crawled gently towards my ankle, pleading with his eyes as he winced in pain. "Send a paramedic team in, now. He's still got time" I demanded, the group of SWAT enforced men looked at me puzzled. "You're going up there, alone?..." one brave suit asked, I couldn't see his face but his tone ensured everyone was equally as terrified. I could see right through the supes facade, Homelander didn't scare me not one bit. I nodded my head in approval, the boys quickly sweeping to A-Train's rescue as they steadily carried the poor runner out of the building. I stared at the hopeless elevator entrance ding open, inhaling deeply as the doors closed behind me. Soft elevator music hummed in my ear, steadying my heart beat to a soft thump. I had to be prepared for the worst of it all, he could cut me into two pieces by the time the door opened and nobody would know until it was too late.

39,40...41.....42..........42.....

The elevator came to a holt, its bright led numbers flickering as the music came to a stop. My feet jolted below me, holding steadily to the railing as I waited in silence. He knew I was here. He knew someone was coming. My heart roared through my chest as I struggled to catch my breath, what the fuck was I thinking taking this job?

distress fled into my body, watching the doors pry open to the grip of ruby-red gloves. I fled to the ground, covering my head with my heads, watching the door opening wider. And wider. His cold distilled blue eyes emerged from the peak, analyzing me through the small crack. Homelander demanded, "Take off the helmet and let me see your face", watching my hands unravel from fetal position as my breath quivered. Slowly emerging from my helmet, I took the might of speaking up. "Homelander, I know your stressed... I'm not sure what happened, but.. we can work through this-". In the blink of an eye, the metal doors tore as gracefully as paper, falling into the ever abyss of the metropolitan below. My pupils constricted at the sight of him, his face was dim in expression and yet said so many things. His once "all American dream" blue suit covered in the blood of his coworker's, his hair a frilled mess, mania scampered in his eyes to the sound of his laughs. The dazed man grabbed my neck in a grip, and pulled me towards the gravel of the roof. I could feel my heart drop into my stomach, watching him edge closer and closer to the end of the building. "Homelander, wait.. Homelander please d-don't do this! Listen, okay? I'm Y/N, now you know me. Just tell me what happened, I'll listen!", pleading for my life as my gear scraped across the floor. The crazed supe held my head against the edge, a thousand feet of death kissing my eyes in return.

"They took my son. Away from me. My son is gone. you're going to tell me where he is. Or you can go say hi to your friends for me" he said, my hands pushed in denial as I screamed at the force of his body swinging me back and forth. "Where is Ryan! Goddamnit-where is he!" Homelander roared, his eyes holding threat in a bright neon red, I could feel my life draining from me in the moment. I had to think quick. I could keep my job, and do as I'm told. Or, I could save my life. I could do what I was good at. What Butcher taught me best. Rationalizing.

"Listen- look, okay? I can help you find Ryan, but you got to let me go! Without me, not a single fucking person at Vought would tell you his whereabouts. Besides, what they did to you.. Could be happening to him as we speak. Y-You want that?", my words could be playing with fire. But I had to give it a shot. Homelander laughed in mockery of my bravery, hastily letting go of me as he clapped and laughed in rejoice. The man's madness made me sick to my core. I could feel fresh acid forming like a lump in my throat, but I had to keep composure. I couldn't show I was scared. He would kill me without hesitation. He paced back and forth in thought of my offer, hands on his hips as I tried to catch my breath and pushed up against a corner of the roof. The screams from below echoed like the gates of hell, I could tell it was riling him up. "I have an idea, but.. We need to do it my way. You understand? No diverting, no nothing" I exclaimed, he looked across at me as blood dripped off his icy blonde tips stained a muck brown. "We leave. Now. Before they find out you were responsible for this, we can pinpoint it on another supe and you get Ryan back. Homelander- if this gets on the news...", I carefully stared back into his cold gaze, gulping at the words stuck in my throat. "You might not ever see Ryan again if Vought finds out you did this" I said.

The supe almost took that as a challenge, raising his eyebrow at my comment. "Really? And what makes you think I'll listen to you?" he chuckled, approaching slowly as I backed my heels into the ground. He towered carelessly over me, crouching low to meet my gaze. The smell of death reeked off his clothes, his teeth blinked brighter than the sky filled with mourning souls. Without thinking, the man lifted me carefully and began to back away from the building, I could feel our bodies lift off the ground and up towards the clouds. It calmed me, to know that I was able to do something perfectly for once. The one moment that could've possibly ruined my entire life, I saved myself. But I couldn't save the others

"Before we go.. You want to see something cool? I've been meaning to do this for a while" he chuckled, stopping in position as we levitated above the downtown metropolitan. The feeling of course hot beams almost burned through my suit, as I watched the Vought building explode into an array of flames. The building's base was untouched, Homelander squealed in laughter watching people rush onto the streets like ants. "They had what was fucking coming for them. And they knew it. Nobody to blame but themselves, right Y/N? I mean, you have to agree. We're friends now. And you!-You Are going to get me my boy back", his head shook vigorously as if he agreed with his own sentence, looking at me for the approval of his message. I understood that he was setting me up, but two can play that game. "We need to see Butcher. Now. He'll know what to do" I explained, my eyes refused to watch the city below. I had nowhere to look but right into his eyes. And I prayed that he could feel the hatred feeling through my body. Effortlessly, the dazed supe began to track throughout the clouds, elevating so the bare naked eye could barely see us through the cotton-field of clouds.

[selfishdoll]

❛anything for you...❜ ━━ ft. nanami kento | resident evil inspired au.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 SUMMARY. ━━ you, the precious daughter of an important scientist are rescued by the gentlemanly government agent, nanami kento. you’re a mission, nothing more.. right? (word count: 5248)

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING. ━━ messy plot i’m so sorry | reader is 22 & nanami is like 24 | resident evil ish | mentions of dead bodies & blood | angst if you squint | ooc! nanami (he’s still gentleman like he’s just stern cause reader is hardheaded asf) | pet names | oral sex (f. receiving) | multiple orgasms | etc. if i forgot something let me know.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 NOTE. ━━ this got much longer then i wanted it to, so the smut is towards the end— i’m sorry !! also excuses typos & grammar mistakes please.

“Nanami…. Nanami, my legs hurt.” The words crawled from your mouth in a long, annoying drawl— dragging behind the man that still walked tall and strong ahead of you. The two of you had seemed to walk for hours, clothes stained in disgusting substances that came from the bloodthirsty freaks that rushed towards you the second you entered their milky sights. You were tired, hungry, and felt disgusting. Your favorite flare jeans and pink top were ruined and you were sure the short, bohemian braids you had were caked with grime.

“My legs hurt!” You called again after the man’s silence, watching his shoulders fall in a sigh.

“Just a few more miles, we need to find somewhere to rest.”

You pouted, bringing your arms close. You definitely weren’t suited for this, this whole; staying alive while running away from the undead thing. You were fully prepared to drink yourself to death back at your hotel room, but unfortunately; fate had different plans.

You had to admit, it was courageous the way Nanami Kento burst into your room, shutting and securing the door behind him. With one glance to you he was mumbling something into the receiver situated in his ear, walking over and kneeling before you. In your drunken state he was carefully touching you, searching for injuries and asking if you felt okay. If you could stand, he was doting for a government agent.

After that you were stuck with him, or was he stuck with you? Either way, your father — the scientist that refused to replicate a cure unless his dear daughter was rescued — gave you explicit instructions to stay at his side at all, times. Doesn’t matter if you had to piss, shit, or change— you were to stay in his sight no matter what.

Overall, you would give your Osaka trip a solid two out of ten.

You groaned a bit as your face came in contact with his strong back, hurriedly placing a hand over your aching nose. “What’s wr—“ You moved around to see infront of your path, only for your heart to drop. There were three undead walking aimlessly between the wrecked cars, bumping into them on account of their lost senses. The smell was disgusting, let alone the way blood trickled from their mouths and other body parts. The way a human body still stood despite several bullet wounds in its chest was.. disturbing to you.

Your fingers came to clutch Nanami’s shirt, the man reaching an arm back as if to cover you. Whilst the other was placed on his hip, right where his pistol remained. “They haven’t seen us.. yet.” The man murmured, wary of being heard. His eyes peered around, searching for a way or some path— you quickly doing the same, fingers still crumbling his stained dress shirt.

Finally his body turned, glancing at you. “We’ll have to go around that building..”

“What? Nanami you have a gun! Just aim right—“

“I rather not risk alerting more infected nearby.” He spoke, watching you carefully. You sucked your teeth, arms crossed but nodding. That did make sense, you have to admit. No wonder you were the mission and he was the agent.

Nanami straightened his body, reaching for your wrist gently. “Come on.” He spoke, leading you slowly. With each step his and your eyes were darting in front of you and back to the three infected still walking around aimlessly. You flinched a little as your foot pressed against something far too squishy, far too wet— your hand pressing against your mouth to cover your small disgusted squeal.

A squeeze to your wrist quickly diverted your attention, spotting Nanami turned to you with a serious expression. “Focus on me, (Y/N).. It’s alright.” You slowly nodded at his words, coming even closer to his form as you continued towards and soon around the building.

Luckily there wasn’t any infected nearby, Nanami releasing your wrist once the danger was gone. Despite this the man was still wary, looking around every so often to assure nothing was sneaking up on you. You kept your arms wrapped tight around yourself, copying Nanami’s movements.

Though, your head began to hurt a little from the constant back and forth.

You turned forward, lips pressed together before speeding up to walk beside him. “So.. did you ever imagine this would happen? You know.. some type of apocalypse?”

Nanami glanced at you for a moment before his gaze moved forward, a soft breath escaping him. “No.” He spoke simply, continuing his powerful strides that you struggled to keep up with. You nodded slowly, glancing down for a split moment whilst simply caressing your skin.

“Ever thought you’d have to save a scientist’s drunk daughter?”

Despite how little it was, a breath of amusement escaped the man, shaking his head. “No.” He answered again. You gave a weak smile, arms falling to your sides shortly after.

“Do you.. regret saving me?”

No more words were spoken for a few moments, the only sound being your shoes pressing into the Earth below. You took this badly, heart beating hard against your chest as your teeth tugged onto your bottom lip. You’ve always spoke too much for your own good, a trait you’ve hated since it developed. Fingers twitched nervously, eyes dancing about the ground as if suddenly interested in the blood stained pavement.

Your eyes peeled away, however— the moment you heard Nanami release a breath.

“No.. and it’s not because I was assigned to rescue you.”

His words caused confusion to bloom within you, head tilting to glance at his expressionless face. You didn’t know this man, his goals or what he did before he came to save you. For all you know he could be lying.. possibly falsifying your father’s voice or something crazy. Anything for some cash. Yet his words, you could tell the man was genuine; simply from his tone and posture, he meant it.

“Why?.. You have no obligation to me.” A cynical chuckle escaped you, glancing down at your feet once more. “I doubt anyone would give you any grief if you left me on the side of the road.”

You flinched as his footsteps came to a sharp halt, body turning to face you. His gaze settled onto your features, a hardened stare that caused you to look away once it became too much. Finally, Nanami spoke; “If you’re looking for me to call you useless or a mistake, I will not. You are neither of those and thinking of yourself as such is counterproductive.” Nanami stepped closer, causing your breath to hitch and eyes to widen. “We will continue down this path, together— until I bring your father his daughter back in one piece.” His eyes softened for a split second, head tilted to the side as he took you in. “Okay?”

You slowly nodded, gulping thickly the moment his eyebrows rose. “Okay.” You murmured, watching him nod back and turn forward once more. Your shoulders fell, hand pressed against your chest to feel your rapid heartbeat. For the first time in days, a little genuine smile lifted your lips.

You two continued to walk for what it seemed like hours, taking short breaks between buildings; you seated on some random trash can or barrel whilst he stood against the wall— glancing to assure nothing popped out.

As the sunset the two of you ended up in a neighborhood, your eyes focusing on the houses; a small grimace taking over your features. The crashed cars, the bloody bikes.. it was all too much. You could just imagine the way families rushed to get away, only to not make it farther then their doorstep.

You quickly shook your head, deciding such thoughts will only depress you further. And whilst attempting to pull those thoughts from your mind, a single raindrop fell onto your skull.

Your head turned to the sky, watching as the clouds darkened and more rain began to fall. You groaned softly, hand rising as if to cover the pouring water. Which of course, proved useless.

“Nanami,” You called, catching up to place a hand to his back. “We have to find somewhere to stay, this rain will make it harder to see.” You heard a soft grunt above the rain, watching his wet head turn back and forth in search of secure shelter. Your tongue clicked however, annoyed by how long the search was taking.

You looked around, soon lifting your hand towards a small white house that looked untouched. “There!” You huffed, legs moving before the man could reply. You made your way over, Nanami on your heels; sighing once you made it on the porch, covered by the rain. When you went for the doorknob, Nanami’s hand covered your own— causing your eyes to snap over to his face.

“Don’t run off like that again.” He spoke, glancing down at you seriously. You slowly nodded, hand loosening from the doorknob as the man came to stand in front of you. With a deep breath he turned it, pleasantly surprised it was unlocked.

And another reason Nanami wished to go first.

Lifting his flashlight, the man shined it inside the house; scanning the area for any sign of danger. Despite how untouched it looked from outside, it was certainly different in the actual house. Dried blood was caked on the hard wood floors, decorative carpet upturned and a mess whilst the couches were angled oddly. A struggle had clearly happened.

You clung to Nanami as you passed through the threshold, the man closing and locking the door behind you. He breathed a bit, turning to you whilst passing you the flashlight. “The living room looks secure, but I’ll check the back rooms.”

“What, alone!?” You hissed softly, reaching for him the moment he turned to leave. “We have to stick together.”

Nanami carefully grabbed the hand holding him, lifting it away as he looked at you gently. “It’ll be quick, I promise. Just sit on the couch and scream if you need me.” He coaxed you slowly towards said furniture, watching you sink into the surprisingly soft cushion. Noting your discouraged expression the man gave a gentle smile, hand rising to squeezes your shoulder. “It’ll be alright (Y/N).”

You nodded slowly, watching as he grasped a much smaller flashlight from his pocket, heading towards the back of the house. You turned forward, standing from the couch and walking towards the fireplace against the wall. The bright light shined on the framed pictures, pretty decor, and knick knacks lining the top of it. Your eyes focused on the little family portrait, sighing softly. You imagined they got out, all of them; and they were somewhere safe, together.

But, of course, that was wishful thinking. There was no way they survived.

Your hands curled around the frame, pushing it facedown. You moved on towards the dining room, gaze zoning in the candles settled in the middle of the red decorative cover. You picked one up, hurriedly looking around and smiling the moment you found a lighter. Placing the flashlight on the table, you picked the last three candles and lighter, heading back to the couch.

You placed the candles onto the coffee table while sitting down, lighting them one by one. They weren’t too bright but it was enough, definitely better then the flashlight.

Once you heard heavy footsteps heading in your direction you turned, smiling up at the man who approached the couch. Your eyes zoned in at the pile of sheets and blankets, the man placing it on the cushion beside you. Once done he hooked a finger behind him,

“The first bathroom’s water is working. You could probably wash up.”

A shower! The way your eyes sparkled you would have thought he said a helicopter was coming to grab the two of you. But no, this was much better. The thought of ridding yourself of three day grime and smell was enough to nearly bring tears to your eyes. You didn’t care if you had to pull dirty clothes the following morning, you just wanted to feel a little clean.

You hopped to your feet, following the man once he turned to the back of the house. Approaching the bathroom, you pushed the door opened, sighing heavily and glancing around. There wasn’t much, a simple half opened bottle of body wash and a towel. But, it was enough.

“I’ll make some food for when you come out. Don’t take too long.”

“Okay!”

Despite his words you spent a good thirty minutes under the water. You didn’t even care if it was cold, it just felt so good washing it all away. The dirt, the smell, and much more. You nearly shed a tear, given this was the only peace you’ve felt in days. After scrubbing your body and rinsing for about the fourth time, you shut the water off, exiting the tub and wrapping the towel right around your body. You grabbed your pile of clothes, heading out of the bathroom and towards the living room.

Nanami turned the moment he heard your footsteps, eyes quickly falling to the ground when he noticed your state. “Your food.. it’s, right here.” He spoke, hearing you walk around — dropping your dirty clothes in a corner along the way — sitting on the cushion beside him.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t much, a simple plate of rice, beans, and unidentifiable meat. But, you were grateful. You grabbed the plate, scooping some in your spoon and taking a bite. It wasn’t that good, the rice a little undercooked and meat having little flavor. But again, you were grateful.

Nanami watched as you ate, coaxing you to slow down so you didn’t choke; a little smile tugging his lips when you didn’t listen, resulting in a few coughs to escape you. He grabbed a water bottle near by, passing it to you so you could take a few sips. During this the man stood, wiping his pants.

“I’ll go take a shower now, you should try to get some sleep. Also— I think the couch pulls out.”

You gave a small okay, watching as he walked around the couch towards the bathroom. You placed your water bottle down, leaning against the couch and gliding your hand across your towel covered stomach. A small sigh escaped you, lips curled. For once, you could actually get some nice sleep.

No leaning against dirty walls, the rain drowned out whatever groaning infected were nearby, and you were sure the couch would be nice and plush.

Rising from your seat, you pushed the coffee table closer to the fire place, turning to grab the cushions and toss them away from you. Your eyes zoned in at the bar, pulling it— turning the couch into a pullout with some effort. “Finally.” You breathed, walking over to the pile put to the side, grabbing a sheet and flinging it over the bed.

Once satisfied you grabbed a blanket, — leaving a sheet for Nanami — placing it on the bed. You glanced down at your attire for a moment before a small screw it, went through your mind; pulling your towel off and letting it bundle on the floor. Crawling onto the bed, you pulled the blanket over your body.

Using your arms as a makeshift pillow, you sighed a bit, eyes closing and sinking into the mattress. Maybe you could convince Nanami to stay for another day. You could probably find a vehicle amongst the many houses. More supplies? These thoughts lulled you to sleep, exhaustion covering your body as darkness took over your vision.

You don’t know what time it was when you woke up, or why you woke up exactly. You planned to sleep the entire night but your body unfortunately had different plans. Tugging your blanket closer to your body, you turned; spotting the candles still lit, wax collecting on the coffee table. Your gaze carried, jumping a little when you spot Nanami rested in the loveseat, chest uncovered with a sheet tied loosely around his waist.

That wasn’t the problem, his dark eyes boring into your own was.

“Have you been awake this whole time?”

Nanami seemed to snap out of his trance, adjusting in the seat as he nodded slowly. You pursed your lips a bit, sitting up whilst pressing the blanket against your chest. “You could have joined me here. I doubt the seat is comfortable.”

“That would be.. inappropriate.”

“How so?”

Nanami shook his head, glancing away from you as he again— adjusted himself in that damned seat. You bit the inside of your cheek, landing back against the bed with a huff. “There’s no way you can effectively protect me without sleep, Nanami. You’ll be dragging like those walking corpses outside.”

Your words lingered in the air for a moment, a silence covering the room before you heard a deep sigh escape the man. He lifted his body from the chair, waltzing over to you. You smiled a bit, scooting away to give him some room, feeling the mattress sink in beside you as he laid down.

You turned to face him, fingers clutching your blanket as you took in his form. You didn’t want to admit was a delightful sight, the man sculpted nicely; clearly a disciplined individual. Your gaze lowered, shamelessly tracing his v-line peeking out from under the thin sheets. Luckily his eyes were closed, or else you would be embarrassed.

“I can’t sleep with you staring at me, (Y/N).”

You flinched, watching his eyes blink open and stare at you. “Sorry.” You murmured, gripping the blanket a little more. A silence passed between the two of you, simply laying there and glancing at each other.

You finally broke the silence, “You know.. this is kind of romantic.” You watched him lift a thin eyebrow, feeling your chest pound and cheeks warm. “The candles, the laying together..”

Nanami sucked in a breath, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Yes, and the undead walking outside adds a nice touch.”

“Exactly!” You spoke, a soft giggle escaping you shortly after. You leaned your cheek against the back of your hand, smiling sweetly at the man. The warmth in your face traveled to your stomach as he continued to stare at you, discreetly stealing gazes to your covered form. “I think.. if we met on different circumstances, I would have loved to go on an actual date with you.”

The man blinked in surprise, eyes widening just a bit. You wondered if you made him uncomfortable, given he stiffened and quickly glanced away from you. You opened your mouth to apologize, only for the man to cut you off;

“I would have loved to take you out on one.”

You felt the warmth within you grow hotter, teeth pressing down against your bottom lip. Your eyes fell to his arm, reaching over; gasping as the man rose to grasp your hand. The distant between you shortened as Nanami drew closer, your body sweltering at this point.

“Nanami..”

“Kento.. call me Kento.” He breathed, leaning to plant his lips against yours in an experimental kiss. The moment you didn’t pull away he was all in, hand releasing your wrist to instead glide up your exposed arm to the back of your neck, collecting it and tilting you how he liked. Your hand clung to his arm, breathing softly as the kiss deepened.

You found yourself turning onto your back, the man hovering above you, large frame covering you. The kiss continued, you gasping softly the moment his tongue entered your mouth; delicately playing and sucking at your own wet muscle. Your hips rose, feeling him through the thin sheet still wrapped loosely around his waist. The man groaned in response to this, hand sliding around to gently hold your throat.

Pulling away, Kento glanced down at you, forehead pressed against you. “I shouldn’t..” Turmoil warped the man, struggling. He wanted nothing more to kiss you again, to make you feel better then you have in the past few days. And yet, he knew this was wrong. You were his mission, someone he had to protect, nothing more. Growing attached.. wanting more, would prove disastrous.

But, even as the reasonable thoughts entered his mind, they faded the moment he looked at you. Your lips pressed together, eyes shining up at him, waiting ever so patiently for his next more. Your warm hands were placed on his arms, gripping them as if afraid to let go. Nanami struggled, he did— feeling himself ready to lift away from you.

Unfortunately, a soft, sweet “Kento” escaped your plump lips, rendering the logical side of his brain useless. Without thinking he was leaning down again, planting his lips against yours harsher then before. The action caused a soft moan to escape your throat, nails digging into his skin whilst bliss covered your body.

Lips moving, hands moving; his fingers curling on the edge of your blanket, slowly tugging it down your form to reveal your naked body to him. Kento pulled back, a glossy string connecting your lips together as his eyes cascaded down your form.

Your face flushed, reaching to grab his cheek. “Don’t stare so much..” You murmured, gasping as his hand ghosted down your body, fingers sinking into your hip.

“Why not? Every inch of you deserves to be appreciated.” The man breathed, leaning back on his hunches, hands faltering to your thighs and spreading them to wrap around his waist. “You’re beautiful.. I thought so the moment I saw you in that hotel room.”

You shook your head with a small smile, glancing up at him. “When I was drunk and obnoxious?”

Nanami smiled at you, hand squeezing the inside of your thigh. “Yes.” He confirmed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your collarbone. The feathery affection trailed down your heated skin, arousing soft breaths and gasps to escape you. Kento’s lips found your right nipple, sucking gently, pushing closer when you jumped.

The pleasure trickled down between your thighs, his hand grasping your absent breast. His thumb pressed against your hardened nipple, tweaking it between his fingers all while continuing to suck and tongue the other. Your hips rose in search of friction, which Nanami rewarded, pressing a thigh between your legs for you to grind on.

Your eyes pinched close, melting into the bed as your hands gripped at his hair. As good as that felt you wanted, needed more. You ground against his thigh, fingers slipping through his previously washed hair. “Kento, please..”

He pulled away from your chest with a soft pop, all while his fingers continued to move on the other. “Use your words, princess. What do you want?”

“More please— fuck..” You hissed softly as his thigh pressed right up against your center, gripping him even closer. “Wanna feel you, Ken. I need you so bad.” You whimpered, glancing up at the man.

Kento swore softly, taking in your beautiful expression. You were so open, laid out for him perfectly and begging for him. Such an image got him hard, tip leaking with excitement. He released your chest, dragging his kisses lower and lower until he met your mound.

Despite how eager he was to give you what you craved, he refused to leave you unprepared. The thought of hurting you outweighed his lust greatly.

So, the man used two thick fingers to spread you open, tongue gliding across your little bud. The action caused a gasp to fall from your lips, thighs threatening to close as he continued the pleasurable treatment, rubbing and sucking your clit raw. Your hands gripped at his hair tightly, rising your hips to push your pussy into his face more, shamelessly moving your hips.

Nanami enjoyed it all, hands falling to your ass to grip, face flush against your heat. His tongue lapped up your arousal, dragging his tongue in places that made you see stars. The moment you felt two fingers prodding at your wet entrance however, you were lost; crying out as the thick digits sunk into you.

He curled them, pushing up against your velvety walls and hitting a sweet spot that made stars collect in your eyes. Desperately, your hips shook, moans rising in pitch as you felt your stomach clench from the pleasure. “Kento.. ah—“ You cried out, feeling his lips wrap around your hard clit and suck, harshly.

Little tears threatened to spill over, legs closing around his head as a string of moans escaped you. Moments passed before you came, clamping down on his fingers and painting his face with your mess. Nanami’s fingers continued to move through your high, wrist flexing with each push and pull inside your sweet cunt.

Your legs shook, back arching as a soft overstimulated cry escaped you. “Mm— I can’t..”

Nanami pulled away from your clit, thumb quickly replacing his lips. His fingers scissored inside you, stretching and prepping you carefully. “I know you can, almost there pretty..” The man mused, pace quickening, ignoring your smaller fingers clinging to his wrist. The soft squelches of your wet cunt would have embarrassed you if you didn’t feel so good, head pressed against the bed as melodic moans escaped you.

A few more thrusts of his fingers passed before you came again, tainting his digits in your mess. Only this time he removed them, hand rising to lick off his arousal as if your taste was a delicacy. To him, it was, having half a mind to dive back between your legs for more.

Instead, Nanami hovered above your body, forearm pressed above your head whilst his forehead rested against yours own. He warmed the moment your hands dragged to his shoulders, watching your eyebrows push together and a small whine escape you. He smiled at you, leaning down to kiss your lips, whilst his hand leaned down, tugging the thin sheet off his body.

Your legs rose to hang loosely on his hips, gasping as you felt his shaft glide through your folds. As you continued to kiss the man continued to rub himself against your pussy, coating himself in your arousal. You tried to wait patiently, knowing he wouldn’t listen to you even if you tried to rush him.

Once satisfied, Nanami leaning down to grab his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he sunk in; breathing as your sweet walls hugged his length. You whimpered from the stretch, scratching at his shoulders at the slight pain and pressure. Nanami was attentive, continuing to kiss you all while whispering soft words against your lips.

“So good for me.. taking me so well. Mm— relax.. fuck, relax— princess.” He stuttered a bit, eyebrows pinched close as his hips continued slowly. Soon enough he was all the way in, shuddering at the feeling. Nanami settled for a moment, allowing you to rest and catch your breath.

You huffed softly, eyes peering at where you two were connected and back to his face— him already staring at you. You gave a coy smile, warming the minute his hand brushed your cheek. Your hips rose to signal you were fine, Nanami breathing a bit but allowing his hand to fall to your hip.

Slowly, the man dragged his own back, allowing only the tip to reside inside of you. With a single thrust a sharp moan escaped you, bringing him even closer to your body. His slow, languid thrusts continued, allowing you to feel every inch of his length; dragging across your walls and splitting you open so nicely. Your eyes found the back of your skull, beautiful sounds escaped your raw throat, walls clenching with every single thrust.

Kento wasn’t any better, eyes closed as you consumed his body. You felt way too fucking good, to the point the man felt as if he would go crazy if he continued. The way you clung to him, your smell, and as he opened his— your expression, fuck.. the thought of you being nothing more than a mission left his mind quickly.

The man lowered, thrusting deeper as his gentle and slowness flew out the window, thrusts quickening. The new pace caused your eyes to fly open, harsh moans escaped you as your nails dug into his skin. “Kento, Kento—!” You whimpered out, feeling the man leaning down to press wet kisses against your neck. Your thighs locked around his waist, squelches of your messy cunt covering the room.

Your arousal trickled down his length, forming a sticky white ring around the base of his cock. Thrusting, ruining you, it didn’t take long for your stomach to clench, eyes glossy as you creamed all over dick. Your arms wrapped around his neck, breath fanning against his face as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Kento gritted his teeth, fingers digging into your plush skin. “So good.. fuck, you feel so damn good, (Y/N).“ He spoke on hushed breath, cock twitching as he felt his end approaching. Without thinking his hands were dragging under your thighs, pushing them up to press against your chest.

The new position pulled him deeper inside you, tip brushing your cervix with each thrust, the pain melting as the pleasure consumed you. You were rendered useless under him, trapped under his weight with no place to run. Like you wanted to anyway. Despite how sore you were, how absolutely fucked out you were, you didn’t care. Your eyes rolling back, incoherent babbles escaping you as he turned your brain to mush.

It was no surprise you were coming again, harsher then before; making a complete mess under you. Kento groaned at this, your pretty walls fluttering around him pushing him over the edge— driving himself deep and filling you up.

You whined softly, nails digging into him as he gave a few more pumps inside you, hips soon slowing down. Heavy pants entered the room, simply grabbing onto one another, as if scared to let go.

Soon, Kento regained his breath, gulping as the reality of the situation sunk into his mind. Not only did he have inappropriate relations with you, he finished inside. He should be upset with himself, pulling out and quickly cleaning up as if to elevate the consequences. Instead, as his eyes landed on your beautiful features; your sweet smile, how content you looked under him, his anxiety left. Any consequence he had to deal with, was worth it.

Kento, would deal with anything for you.

The man slowly pulled out, hissing softly as he watched his cum flow out of your pretty cunt. Hands smoothing across your thighs, Kento leaned down to kiss your cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He promised, lifting from the bed and walking to the back of the house.

You eased your legs onto the bed, shivering at the slightly sore feeling. Despite this, your smile grew, turning onto your side and giggling a little to yourself.

This wasn’t an ideal situation at all. You a mission, him a government agent— together surviving against the undead outside. But, you wouldn’t have it any either way.

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Pairing(s): Logan Howlett x Reader, Billy Butcher x Reader, Billy Butcher x Becca Butcher

Warnings: cheating, affairs, hurt feelings, violence, soldier girl au, butcher is kinda the bad guy in this version of the au 😅, the boys x marvel au, nudes mentioned, violence, blood

Words: 2182

Summary: Butcher finally apprehends the Wolverine

When Someone Gets Hurt

Inferno

Bruises and Bitemarks

a/n: yes I'm still alive c:

Butcher thought it was his lucky day when he finally apprehended Logan Howlett, more commonly known by his supe alias the Wolverine.

For just one chance at capturing him, the Boys went over their plan nonstop. They needed to make it count. Butcher only had enough time in his life for one enemy to focus all of his attention on. He definitely didn't need another. From trial and error, Butcher learned that it was near impossible catching Logan if the red suited asshole Deadpool was anywhere nearby. The duo were as indestructible as cockroaches.

While nabbing Logan elated Butcher, the fact that he did it without asking for your help was the cherry on top. Neither of you had spoken since he found out you were sleeping with someone else. Honestly, both of you had been too busy anyway to interact let alone talk. You were going through your own life difficulties what with your maniacal supe brother. You'd discovered that Homelander was actually introducing Compound V to terrorists just so the U.S. government would allow supes in the military to counterattack these new "super villains". You and Annie were working hard to prevent Homelander's supremacy of the country though it felt like a lost cause many times. The new addition to the Seven, Stormfront, was putting a wrench in any plans of taking down your brother.

"Go' you now." Butcher sneers in triumph as he yanks on Logan's hair to pull his face upward. Logan snarls, eyes burning with hate that Butcher couldn't possibly comprehend. This was the guy that took you for granted after all. "Took us quite a long time to figure out what would take you down." His head gestures over to Frenchie who was holding that gun that had taken Wolverine down. The gun's chambers, unbeknownst to Logan, was filled with Carbonadium bullets.

Grinning at the detestation on Logan's face, Butcher slams his head down against the ground. If his bones weren't fused with one of the world's most indestructible alloys, Logan was certain his entire jaw would have shattered. Butcher didn't possess fancy powers. All he had was the indomitable human spirit and a fuck ton of hate in his veins.

His strength fleeing from him thanks to the bullets lodged inside of him, Logan can only growl at Hughie and Butcher who frisk his weakening form. Frenchie keeps the gun aimed at his head.

Stomach sinking when he feels Butcher fish out his cellphone from his back pocket has him actually finding the energy to try and kick up a fight. A bulky boot to his back kicks him down.

Butcher makes sure Logan can see him as he tauntingly holds Logan's phone in front of him. "You want this, ya? Wonduh what secrets you're hiding 'n here."

"FUCK YOU"

Ignoring the obscenities being snarled at him, Butcher closer examines the phone, tapping on the screen to see if the phone required a passcode. Unfortunately it did.

Dropping it into his pocket, Butcher hums "Lets get back to HQ, shall we? We've got a lot of work to do."

While Butcher and MM interrogate Wolverine in the cellar that served as a holding cell, Frenchie and Hughie got to work on unlocking Logan's phone.

Logan's passcode was, thankfully, a weak one so it didn't take long before Frenchie was allowed access.

"Voila!" He grins to himself and hands the phone to Hughie. "Now we can see all the dirt Le Carcajou has and who that annoying red fucker is." Frenchie held a particular grudge against Deadpool. He'd been shot by him a handful of times.

Not much was on his phone. Only the basic apps that were already preprogrammed into the phone. Contacts were limited to a 'Wilson' and 'Al'.

Going through Logan's phone, Hughie ultimately checks the photos app and nearly drops the phone onto the desk with wide eyes. "Oh god. Oh fuck."

"Petit Hughie?" Frenchie reaches across for the device but Hughie slams his hand on top of it.

"No. No, no, no." He's shaking his head. "Fuck. He's going to fucking kill him if he sees this, Frenchie."

"Well. . . oui? That's what Butcher does." He's confused.

"It won't be Butcher's usual supe killing." Running a hand across his face, Hughie heaves a stuttering breath. He brings up to Frenchie the fact that the affair you were having was with Logan himself.

Frenchie slews a string of profanity. "Le Carcajou? We should've known. He's totally her type. That explains why she hasn't been around to help us catch him either." Everything was coming together. "Butcher won't just kill him."

There would be an utter bloodbath. Now that the Wolverine was weakened, killing him was more feasible a vision.

Hughie nods in knowing and goes a shade paler. And once you found out that Logan was captured. . .

Busy freaking out about what to do, Frenchie takes a peek at the picture on the phone's screen and wolfishly grins. "I never knew she was such a naughty girl."

"Huh? Oh- Frenchie don't!"

"Sorry, Petit Hughie but when I see a work of art I must appreciate it."

"Okay, I'm gonna take the phone away from you now."

"What are you two on about?"

Neither breathes, Frenchie has hold of one end of the cellphone while Hughie has the other end. Unable to react fast enough, Butcher snatches the phone from them in seconds with a mumble about how they should have told him the moment they'd hacked into the phone.

He was not expecting to see your bare tits on the screen of the phone.

Knowing who the tits on the phone screen belonged to. Hughie and Frenchie silently back away, already feeling the heat of his wrath.

"What the fuck is this?" Butcher's ears are ringing and can't even hear whatever Hughie is stammering about.

This was the Wolverine's phone. Why the fuck were your tits on his phone?!

Across the plane of the screen, small cracks begin to emerge as Butcher's grip on the device tightens to a deadly grip, as if he was strangling someone. Imagining that the phone was Logan's neck.

Were you. . . Were you really fucking that guy this entire time?

How long had this been going on?

Did you start seeing him before or after the Boys officially started hunting him?

"Butcher. . ." Hughie's voice sounded far off though he knew it came from right next to him. "Your hand is bleeding. . ."

Spiderweb cracks scrawled across the phone's entire surface. Splinters of glass embedding themselves into his fingers.

Either way, the mother fucker was going to pay for it.

Fuck the mission.

Fuck trying to get any information from this guy.

"Wade- WADE please calm down." You shoot Annie an apologetic look before excusing yourself to take your call to a quieter location.

"They've got him! Those fuckers have our peanut!" Deadpool cries out on the other end of the line.

Lips parting about to inquire on who he meant when icy cold realization seizes your stomach. "Logan. . . No. . ."

"YES!! So if you can, please hurry that gorgeous ass of your's and save him!"

Almost hitting someone with the restroom door you hazardously ram open. Annie stares at you when you fast walk back to the table. Explaining what is going on and how you had to hurry back to headquarters.

"Thank god you're here!" Hughie's voice cracks as you push past him. You could hear the jarring sound of a fist colliding against solid flesh. Grunts of pain and the angry howls emanating from a god of wrath.

You rip the door that led to the Boys' makeshift holding cell/interrogation room to come across Logan covered in his own blood. Matted in thick clumps in his hair and sporting several gunshot wounds that weren't healing. Butcher has his back to you, his shoulders moving up and down as he gulps down ragged breaths.

Logan's own breathing was interrupted every couple of breaths as blood bubbled forth to dribble out from the corner of his mouth. Those dark eyes that you love so much instantly land on you.

"Butcher."

Even having the upper hand wasn't enough to ease the heavy stone that sat at the bottom of your stomach; weighing you down like an anchor.

Slowly he turns around. You'd seen this side of him so many times. Yes, a few times they were aimed at you. Those were the incidents when you battled with your own conflicting feelings toward your brother. Butcher was hell bent on putting an end to Homelander; nothing would change that. He would do it or very well die trying. Yet. . . You remembered your beloved big brother. The one who made you lunch to take to school. He'd been John to you back then. You idolized him and envied him. Vought's pride and joy despite Soldier Boy thinking him weak.

This was different though.

The pain that hardened his gaze was palpable. "This who you been fucking?"

Readying your stance to zoom, you try to keep the panic from your tone. If Butcher heard how much you actually cared for Logan, it would enrage him even more. Logan was more than just sex to you now. "I can explain."

"I bet you can." A dark chuckle is exhaled. "You two been fucking this entire time? Laughing behind my back. I should have known. You'll always be more loyal to your own kind."

"Don't be like that Butcher." You hiss. "Don't you dare lump me into your supe-hating bullshit. That's not what this is. He wasn't on our radar when I met him."

That gives Butcher a reason to pause. "So, you were fucking him the same time when we were still-"

"There was no 'we'." You adamantly point out and accompanied by and exhausted sigh, your stance wavers. "You and I, it was just sex. You made that perfectly clear. After all, I could never measure up to Becca. I can't let you kill him."

To add an emphasis on that declaration, your eyes sizzle red in warning.

His scowl deepens, a snarl curling his lip. "That's how it's gonna be?"

"Just step aside, Billy. Please."

The pleading in your irritates him. You liked this fucker enough to put your pride aside and beg Butcher to release Logan.

"You willin' to kill me over him?"

Fear wasn't something you were necessarily accustomed to. Standing there, you weren't sure of what to do. You couldn't kill Butcher. Yet you couldn't let Butcher kill Logan. The heat in your eyes simmers down.

You couldn't.

"I don't have to kill you."

Swatting him away with a flick of your wrist as you charge toward him, Butcher flies into the side wall. Clearing the way for you to get to Logan.

When you feel the rain-like barrage of bullets against your back, you rip Logan free of his confines. You're not A-Train level fast, but compared to Butcher and the others, your movement was quicker. Pure instinct drives you to bulldoze your way through walls, all while protecting a battered Logan. Blood rushing through your ears made you deaf to what Logan was trying to cough out.

You couldn't stop. You had to keep focus until you were far away and safe enough to check his injuries.

Wind whips your face.

You had to save Logan.

You couldn't let him die.

Suddenly a warm hand to your cheek has you stopping midflight; halting to a hover.

"Can you at least carry me so I don't look like a damn damsel in distress."

In your arms you carried Logan in a bridal style fashion. He was huge compared to you. With your super strength he feels no heavier than an infant.

Registering his position, you also take in the multitudes of bulletholes that litter his torso area. They were still bleeding freely.

One safe landing later (and a quick text to Wade) and you're turning Logan over to examine him. "What did they shoot you with?"

He grunts when you dab a piece of your shirt on a particularly juicy wound. "Not many things that can get me like this."

"I'm gonna have to cauterize some of these until Wade gets here." You warn him. Small hand splayed against his chest you catch his eyes on you. He places his larger one over it, pressing your hand so you could feel his heartbeat.

"M'fine." He tells you, ignoring the thick line of dried blood that ran down from the corner of his mouth. Logan looked like literal hell. Sweat and grime coating his face but his smile was still heart warming. "Just stop talking for a second and let me hold you, yeah?"

Unexpected moments of Logan's softness rendered you speechless. He uses this as an advantage and gathers you up in his bloodied arms.

You close your eyes and relish in his nearness.

"Also wanted to tell you that those guys may have seen your nudes on my phone."

"Are you serious?!" You shriek and push him away. Logan coughs out a laugh, avoiding your faux slaps.

[wyrmswears]

Maybe Jay inhuman could be in the administration due to be a “dangerous wild life specimen” so he just chills in his cell barking to every one who comes near him.

As a matter of a fact Agent Roderick got bitten several occasions trying to feed raiju Jay meanwhile agent Underwood is in good terms with our favorite Wolf boy she even let him “play”/ destroy dangerous objects. One day the administrator discovers this so as a joke promotes him as a manager in the dangerous artifact deapartment and for the name they just said random names until he recated (subconsciously knows it) and he is now in one of those dog suits. Instead of Arin almost founding him Lloyd has to fight a nindroid an his crazy wolf.

As for his next appearance he is used as a hunt dog for the administration to find zane. Only Gandalaria knows he is a raiju and not an anoying dog in a suit and a gun(?!). Like in cannon they are defeated leaving manager Jay behind but the wolf mask army take him with them in the wibbily-wobbily teleport magic. Once with ras is helped by Jordana (parallel of Aspherra helping Nya) to return to his human form and with this get can get to the cannon events with the ninja in the tournament. He gots his memory back and has this awesome formling like magic also Lloyd is a little weird with Jay’s wolf form because he feels guilty for not recognize him in the demolition room.

Sorry for the bible i thought it was hilarious.

Images for picture the man.

i REALLY enjoy this ask wow. (if youre new here, its about this au. long story short, jays a dog.)

him being caught by the administration as a dangerous species could actually work quite well, given their dehumanisation of nindroids already. jay underwood friendship is so real actually and him being manager of the artifacts demolition department... lloyd just wants to know who gave a dog a gun

and then him being a hunting dog for zane gahsgjshdjdhd gandalaria definitely knows what he is but shes nonchalant about it. "a raijū, huh? i havent seen any of those in a while... shame, it looks like this one's already subscribed to bureaucracy".

i dont think jay has any physical issue accessing him human form in this au! its more a matter of he doesnt want to. he wakes up post-merge in his raijū form as an instinctive survival method, and he has amnesia so he doesn't remember his human identity. as a result, he feels more raijū than human, and mostly stays in the form. this does change when he joins the shadow dojo though, just like you suggested, but even when in his human form, he describes himself solely as a raijū and doesn't hold himself to human standards or social norms. when he gets his memory back, humanity becomes a much greater part of his identity again, but its now in tandem with his raijū identity which yeah does mean he shapeshifts >:)

[ghost-bxrd]

What do you headcanon as AU careers for Dick?

I don't much like the idea of Dick as a cop (in Wayne Family Adventures I'm pretty sure they never explicitly mention his job, so I'm gonna pretend he's not a cop there)

Gymnastics instructor seems to be a popular choice in most of the Happy Dick and Nice Batfam AUs and it sounds in character... Except his night job related injuries would be difficult to hide.

Neither Fae nor Talon Dick are likely to have the kind of falling out with Bruce which led to Dick striking out on his own, so they will likely never have the worry about earning their own living. Bruce would no doubt be willing and eager to give them cushy jobs with the WE, or they can just treat Superhero-ing as their full time job. But still, I think they will want an independent, non-nepo baby job.

I like the idea of Dick as a CPS worker, or just with social services in general. He'll be great with traumatized kids, has so much experience both first and second hand to draw on.

And if Fae Dick is with CPS... Well. The lore about fae stealing children is well known, but less well known is the lore that fae steal neglected children.

Now, that can simply be the predator going after the vulnerable, but it can also be in some stories the fae see humans refusing to take care of the children properly and getting their adoption instincts triggered Bruce Wayne style, taking them away from the parents who don't deserve them to a better life.

CPS takes neglected and abused children away from the parents who don't deserve them, to a better life.

Love the idea of a fae as a CPS worker, getting official sanction and human cooperation to do his traditional job :)

It depends on the Au!

I’m very flexible with what I read as long as the author manages to fit it into the story in a plausible and believable way. Like with the Titans TV series where it establishes very early on that Dick is rather feral and not as opposed to murder as Bruce *cough*

But over all I do agree that him being a cop doesn’t check out most of the time since most comics (at least from what I’ve read, so take that with a grain of salt. My comic knowledge is like— 3% if we’re being generous lol.) depict him as being very opposed to using firearms, and to killing. And cops have to carry guns to protect themselves and others, and sometimes also shoot people. So yeah I don’t know.

And acrobatics instructor actually isn’t such a bad idea imo! Yeah there are some pretty revealing suits out there. But if we go with what Dick is wearing in Gotham Knights in between missions it could totally work out! He’d still have to be careful tho, obviously. But honestly I don’t think people will look too closely at someone who does potentially dangerous sports as a living and comes in with a black eye or a broken arm or something.

CPS sounds like a very fun idea tho! Espiecally in regards to Fae Dick! He’s got a soft spot for children and their wide eyed wonder. And kids aren’t nearly as frightened of him if they happen to catch a glimpse of other either. So yeah, perfect!

But now I’m also thinking of the Pied Piper of Hamelin tale, because I can totally see Dick leading a gaggle of kids through the streets and out of harms way if there’s ever a Gotham wide catastrophe going on… hmmmm

Other than that I could also see Dick as someone who takes a job leading and organizing multiple charities (sponsored by Wayne Enterprises) and rising through the Gotham Elite. It would help his vigilante cover (poor and dumb Richie Wayne, always drunk and being scandalous, just like his guardian) while also serving the ulterior motive of rooting out corruption.

Idk that last one’s just a thought (cuz I love good rich people playing other bad rich people and causing their downfall… eh.)

[jackhues]

―the devil and the runaway au!

about:

Contrary to popular belief, the Devil doesn’t have red skin, graphite horns, and a wickedly sharp tail. He’s not a fallen Angel, he doesn’t carry a pitchfork, and he definitely doesn’t look like a monster.

The Devil wears three piece suits, expensive watches, and can hit a running target from about a hundred metres away. He’s the heir to an Empire, he carries fourteen knives and three guns on him at all times, and he’s got killer dimples.

He’s heartless, the people of Monte-Carlo whisper. His prince-like eyes and silver-tongued compliments will pull you in... before he leaves you with a bullet between the eyes.

The people of Monte-Carlo know better than to catch the eye of the Devil. 

You knew better.

And yet there you are, hiding from the chaos around you, calling for help with the Devil's own phone.

summary:

Y/N lived for her father. She spent her childhood hoping he would love her, even if he never asked for her, even if he saw her as nothing but a weapon.

Y/N lived for her lover. Teenage sweethearts, loved by her father, this was the one person who Y/N hoped would change her life. He did... just not for the better.

Y/N lives for her son, Nico. Two years old, and a mixture of the past she ran away from, she never realized she could love someone as much as this tiny human.

Charles wants Y/N to live for herself.

gangs:

The Ferras

The Ayrbees

The Mercs

The Martins

The Lars

notes:

this is a mafia!charles leclerc x reader!au. that being said, there will be typical gang violence, death, swearing, etc

the name of the reader is y/n meadows, a 24 year old who's currently residing in monaco and is the owner of a small cat cafe (les chats de l'amour). she resides in a two-bedroom apartment built above the cafe.

i will try to include most of the 22 grid and maybe even the new members of the 23' grid, but idk if they'll all be there

the gangs are based off of ferrari (ferras), mercedes (mercs), redbull (ayrbees), the martins (aston martin), and mclaren (lars). there will be interchanging between the gangs/teams, meaning ppl who drive for mercedes might be with the ferras and vice versa. it's just a loose basing

the lars are a small gang

the prema boys are based off of prema racers / fda, and is the step below being a member of the ferras

google translate was used for anything i don't know how to say in other languages

this will most likely have a prologue + 10 parts of about 3k words each!

be sure to like, rb and comment as it makes me really happy!

masterlist:

PROLOGUE

TAGS

[novacqnes]

omg could u write an au fic where both ellie and the fem!reader are detectives working on a case but like uhm, they’re also- married 🤭 and in one scenario they are undercover in a club and the reader has to act flirty with the bad guy and so ofc ellie is jealous…… that means yes. jealous s e x. uhm. please. i just- want to imagine ellie in a suit LMAO

poison // ellie williams

warning: angst, smut, jealousy, top!ellie, squirting, fingering, strap on usage (fem receiving), mentions of crime (prostitution, human trafficking, drugs)

pairing: ellie williams x fem reader

a/n: …..this is pure genius. i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this ask since you’ve sent it in. i definitely need to delve into detective ellie fics for my own peace of mind. also i don’t usually put a wc in requested fics but this one is kinda lengthy so keep that in mind—

ellie saw red. thick crimson splotches crept into the corners of her vision making it nearly impossible to see— let alone think clearly. green eyes narrowed into the sight on the opposite side of the bar. there, a man and a woman sat playfully bantering back and forth. their words were drowned out by the obnoxiously loud music, but the image was enough for ellie to get the picture. 

to most he was known as philip grant, a pompous ass responsible for running one of the largest prostitution and drug rings in the country. the man was balding, pale, and stocky— he couldn’t have been over 5’2, yet his arrogance preceded him. ellie observed silently. his lips, cracked and brittle, pressed into a menacing grin as he fixated on the woman before him. 

jealousy stirred inside ellie the longer she watched the woman— her wife flirt with grant. the long touches, dramatic laughter, and seductive eyes made her stomach turn, yet there was nothing she could do besides watch. any sort of interference would blow your cover, jeopardizing the lives of everyone in the club— including you. thus ellie opted for bitter jealousy, submerging herself in it as she did her best to trust you. after all, you needed to find some way to nail him or he’d walk free once again.

“i see him, it’s the last table to your right,” ellie whispered, adjusting the buttons of her coat. the two of you sat at a table just a few feet away, dressed to blend in with the elite to attend the club. she wore a jet-black suit that conformed to her body perfectly. yet your focus was pulled in the opposite direction.

 “el, we’ve got to get something from him tonight.”

“i know.” her breath hitched, pressure mounted onto both of your shoulders as time crept by with no true plan. by midnight philip grant would still be a free man and the possibility of changing that was growing scarce. you needed to act fast and without a call to action, ellie was without choices. she reached for her gun, sliding it into her jacket as she rose from her seat.

immediately you hopped up blocking her path, “what the hell are you doing?”

“…..i’m gonna go talk to him?” ellie muttered, her cheeks burning bright pink. shooting the man was not an option. the arrest needed to be swift and quick— which meant no guns nor endangering customers. you swiped the pistol from ellie’s hands, discreetly placing it in your bag. 

you pulled her back towards the table, “you can’t just walk up to him. the moment he sees you coming he’s gonna run— and it’ll be months till we get an opportunity like this again.”

“so what’s your idea?” she sighed, her hands thrown up in defeat. carefully your eyes lingered on the man for just a moment. dozens of girls swarmed, some from the club, others had come with him. they hung on grant’s every word— so much so that if he asked them to jump off a cliff they’d do it in heartbeat. 

“i’ll go.”

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” ellie sputtered, her eyes doubling in size. 

“listen to me, philip grant is an asshole— a chauvinistic pig that gets off on exploiting women. all i need to do is stroke his ego a bit and he’ll start talking.”

you were right, and ellie knew it but she didn’t like it. she loathed this part of the job. the side that seemingly blurred the lines between reality and fiction. it required you to play a character, and put on a persona in exchange for just a sliver of information. it was something you were good at, yet ellie still detested it. 

“i can do this, alright? i promise if things start to go south i’ll signal and we’ll send the cops in— now tell me, how do i look?” despite your adamance ellie was more than hesitant. yet the plan was already in motion, and there was no time to stand in the way of it.  

“beautiful,” she whispered, allowing the pit deep inside of her to fester. you shot your wife a quick grin, placing a soft look on your face before adjusting your dress. then you whipped out a dark red lipstick that was sure to captivate grant’s attention. 

in one large breath, you sauntered over to the opposite side of the room. as you approached the man a sly grin took hold of your lips. plastering itself there the more he eyed you up and down. his gaze felt like venom. your stomach churned with nausea as it intensified, sending a cold chill through your bones. nevertheless you took the seat in front of him, outstretching your hand.

“mr grant, right? i’m elora.” 

philip grant was an asshole, in every sense of the word. simply seeing you with him was enough to evoke more than jealousy from ellie. she couldn’t hear anything over the loudspeakers so she had to rely on sight, which seemed to worsen her regret. she despised the way he looked at you— as if you were prey, something to be conquered. and you had no choice but to play into it. 

she watched as your arms wrapped around his, pulling him closer to your body. in a matter of minutes, you’d manage to blend in with his women seamlessly, cooing at the man’s words. ellie’s felt nauseated as you doted on the man, pushing the boundary in order to draw more information. she was sure that if she stood by any longer she’d vomit. 

desperately she sought out a sign— anything to signal that she could arrest grant but nothing came. the music ruined any possibility of eavesdropping so she had to opt for visuals and they only made her even more jealous. she fiddled with the silver band on finger, her gaze narrowing on grant’s hand. it trailed from her pocket and to your arm as he slipped you a paper, leaning in dangerously close to whisper.

ellie wanted to gag, his lips nearly brushed your ear. although it was small compared to what she’d witnessed it was enough for her to radio in the cops surrounding the small bar. within a matter of seconds, she stormed over to the two of you, whipping out her handcuffs. 

“wait el—“ but your protests fell on deaf ears. at that moment dozens of officers swarmed the building, closing in. philip tried to push past yet ellie’s hand sent him crashing back down. his face turned beet red and ellie towered over him, more powerful than you’d ever seen her. 

“philip grant you are under arrest for 18 counts of human sex trafficking and the murders of rose and ruby daniels,” she said sternly, locking the metal around his wrists. bewildered, his eyes found yours as if to plead for help yet he was baffled by the lack of surprise on your face. 

“elora? y-you know her? lying bitch you set me up,” he spat, malice laced in each word. he opened his mouth to continue yet you count register a thing. instead, your focus found its way back to ellie. you watched as she passed grant along to the cops, the solemn glare in her eyes remaining. this was a win for both of you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the looming tension that hung over your heads. 

“what’d you find out?” her words were short and she refused to spare you a glance for more than a moment at a time. 

“he told me where he keeps the rest of the girls.” you slipped a sheet of paper into her palm. in it was a full outline of grant’s businesses which was guaranteed to work against him in court. despite uncovering the piece of evidence that would bury him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of annoyance radiating from ellie.

“what?” she asked, growing restless under your prying eyes.

“i told you to wait,” you faltered, “he was gonna tell me about murders before—“

“we got what we came for, y/n. i wasn’t going to sit back and watch you flirt with him all night.” the last thing you wanted to do was fight— especially not about philip grant. yet ellie wasn’t in a position to reason with you. she saw what she wanted too— and that was you flirting with someone that wasn’t her. 

“listen i’m gonna leave this in evidence… just meet me in the car.” with that ellie turned sharply on her heel not even allowing you the chance to respond. still, you did your best to remain cheerful, making a mental note to apologize once you got home. hopefully, the events of the night would be long forgotten for both of your sakes. 

however, this was the opposite of what happened— the car ride back home was dreadful. ellie hardly even looked your way. vivid details of the ordeal seemed to haunt her. the shameless image of you fawning over grant seared its way into her memory and it only upset her even more. it felt like a wall was being built between the two of you and you had no way of tearing it down. unfortunately, when you got home it was no different.

ellie stormed into the apartment ahead, leaving you trailing behind. she made her way into the bedroom and the anger was detectable even from the kitchen. 

“you hungry? i could make something or we could order in?” you called, only to be greeted by the distinct sounds of silence.

you tried a second time yet all of your attempts amounted to nothing. exasperated, you followed pervading noise all the way towards the room down the hall. there ellie sat on a large bed— the place the two of you shared your most intimate moments. on most days it acted as a safe haven but now it seemed more treacherous than ever. 

the air was thick, presumably from the budding tension that only seemed to stir as you approached your wife. her green eyes buzzed with a certain type of poison— jealousy.

“please don’t tell me you’re giving me the silent treatment because of philip grant,” you muttered, shifting under her fierce gaze. it ignited something inside of you that was utterly unfamiliar. it was ardent passion in a way that you’d never experienced. 

she rose from the mattress, stepping towards you until she was just a few inches away. the heat was palpable and it took shape right in between the two of you, blending in with the jealousy that oozed from ellie.

“you know what i hate most about this job?” she whispered, her voice light and delicate like a feather. you hadn’t realized it then but you were just barely touching the wall. and you feared if ellie stepped any closer you’d be right against it. 

“seeing you with other people.” 

you began, “but it doesn’t mean anything—

“did you see the way he looked at you? hm?” she moved towards you, gradually sealing the distance between your bodies. the cold surface of the wall pressed up against your back, offering you little comfort as ellie spoke. her words were pointed and direct, you could almost make out the hurt behind them but it was overshadowed by a more intense feeling. 

“he wanted to fuck you. jesus y/n….the guy was practically frothing at the mouth the entire time and i had to sit there and watch it.” ellie seethed. she placed each of her arms on the opposite of your body, caging you in as her body stood firm against you. thus with every movement, no matter how minuscule you were able to feel the muscles that lay under ellie’s heavy suit. each one molding against you just perfectly.

“can’t really blame 'em’ though, right?” ellie leaned into your ear, pressing her body against yours with much more fervor. she left soft kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck when you felt something prod at your thigh. you bit back a gasp, jerking against the wall as you looked down. 

“you’re just so beautiful….” she cooed, a sharp tinge glimmering in her eyes. her words were gentle although her body told an entirely different story— and you would soon experience the magnitude of it. she hooked her calloused hands under your chin pulling you into a heated kiss. your hands roamed her body stopping at her crotch where you felt a strong bulge. immediately you went to unzip her pants but quickly stopped by ellie herself. 

“n-no— not yet. get on the bed.” 

you followed her orders without complaint. you took your spot on the bed as ellie watched, slowly peeling from her clothes. you followed suit stripping down to nothing but your underwear. once again, you reached for her yet she remained planted in her spot, desire burning in her eyes. you ached to have her near you— to have ellie inside of you.

“i need you ellie— please,” you whined, slowly soaking the thin piece of cloth over your core. 

“yeah?” 

dazed from anticipation you nodded mumbling incoherently. your hands trailed to your pussy, circling over the soft flesh as your wife hovered over you blinded by intense jealousy. she wanted nothing more than to see you beg. more as a reminder to herself than to you. no matter what happened during a case— you were hers and the simple sight of you pleading was enough to confirm that. 

“where do you need me?” ellie teased, running her fingertips along the side of your thigh. she brought her index finger to your underwear, sliding it underneath.

“in—inside me.” you shivered at the cold contact, gripping the sheets as she continued. one worked on your clit, teasing the nub as one more made its way into your cunt. ellie couldn’t help but moan at the feeling— your walls clamped around her digits desperately as she curved them. pressing up into the spongy tissue that was your g-spot. 

“o—oh shit…..”

you pressed your eyes closed relishing in the warmth that spread across your entire lower body. thick beads of sweat formed on your skin the more it persisted. ellie’s hand was slick with your fluids but it wasn’t enough. she picked up the pace drawing intense pleas from your lips that replicated music— yet she wanted to do more.

“tell me what you want, y/n.” her tone was so assertive and it made your head spin. you opened your eyes, forcing yourself to look back. frenzied short hairs clung to the side of her face and her cheeks were flushed, it all read of sweet determination. like she had something to prove. 

“i want you to f-fuck me— with it,” you purred, your hands traveling back to the now-exposed dildo that sat in between her legs. ellie leaned down to kiss you once more before removing her fingers from your heat and bringing them to your lips. in one swift motion, ellie moved her body on top of yours, situating herself comfortably in between your legs. she kissed down your chest, cupping her hands over your toys as she brought each one to her mouth, feverishly sucking. 

she sat up, teasingly running the silicone over your pussy coating the tip. the sensation caused you to jerk back, sending a smirk to ellie’s plush lips. after moments she moved forward, filling you to the hilt.

“is this what you wanted?”

“yes—yes it’s fucking perfect el,” you cried, hot tears welling in the corners of your eyes. she pursued a relentless pace, slamming her hips against you. the rapid movement spread the pleasure all throughout your body, leaving you nearly speechless. 

strings of obscenities filled ellie’s ears as she sunk into you with each merciless stroke. your legs shook from the impact, desperately wrapping against her. the bed rocked along with the two of you, crashing into the wall as ellie fucked you.

you clasped onto her face, cupping it in your palms as you brought her face down. she pressed her forehead against yours, her pants mixing with moans and the filthy sounds of your pussy. 

“don’t stop, fuck me ha—“ your whines became caught in your throat as ellie pulled out, gently moving you into your stomach. she moved behind you, taking her place as she continued the fervent pace— this time with much more aggression. 

your cheeks rubbed harshly against the fabric of the blanket. you weren’t given much time to adjust to the next position before that same pit pleasure took shape inside of you. and it strengthened with each taunting thrust of ellie’s hips. 

she knew you were close, she could practically feel it in the way your body writhed underneath her. thus her movements had much more vigor and purpose behind them. she needed to bring you to unravel and she was going to be the one to do it. thus ellie placed a firm hand by your head to stabilize herself. using her free one to toy with your sensitive clit. 

“close aren’t you?” she hummed. 

“….please let me come” your voice grew weary and your body stiff. streams of pleasure rippled through your body and in a matter of seconds your vision was distorted by black spots. the sweet poisonous pit in your stomach unraveled, drawing deep loud moans from your lips. 

ellie moved from your body. watching in awe as you soaked the white sheets beneath you, drenching them in fluids. shockwaves tore through your body beautifully leaving you a mess on the bed you shared with your wife. she left soft kisses all over your face and neck, slowly easing from your high. 

“so beautiful…..”

as your vision cleared you gazed up at ellie, who hovered over you. the fierceness in her gaze was long gone, replaced with concern as she looked back at you.

neither of you said anything about the ordeal, in fact, you’d almost forgotten about it. instead, you were struck with fatigue. dozing off as ellie doted on you. she removed the wet sheets from the bed, replacing them with new comfortable ones for you to sleep on.

she took her spot snug behind you, burying her face into the crevice of your neck as she basked in your warmth. she adored these moments. especially the intimate one’s where she was able to see aspects of you that only she’d have the pleasure of experiencing. and it was all the reassurance she needed. 

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

frenrey chainsaw man au or you can take them as just wearing cool suits on another heist probably. 

BUT if we ARE talking chainsaw man... i’ve got some thoughts: 

* they both work for u.s. devil hunter/research division Black Mesa run by g-man (who is NOT a makima and will not be pulling the same shit as her oh god oh jeez, but he is in charge of black mesa who does messed up science stuff so his hands aren’t clean of everything)

* during the big gun devil attack 13 years ago, gordon got his arm blown off and a fragment of gun devil flesh embedded in there, giving him gun arm. black mesa “recruited” him right after (a.k.a. didn’t really give him a choice). he can’t turn the gun back into a normal arm, so when he doesn’t need it, he has to hide it either in a really long sleeve or some other kind of covering because he can’t go walking around with it out obviously. also joshua is alive!!! i am never killing this child off!!!! post-gun devil attack, gordon lost his original job and had a hard time finding work because of the whole gun arm thing, but he needed funds to support joshie, so that’s why he didn’t really have a choice but to join black mesa. 

* benrey’s classified as the Alien/Extraterrestrial Fiend and their powers include temporarily shapeshifting into various crazy amalgamations and singing out colorful balls and being a general annoyance. BUT he’s actually secretly a devil--specifically the Unknown Devil (fear of the unknown). They don’t remember that they’re a super powerful devil, but the black mesa higher ups are aware of his true nature and keep him nerfed. because they aren’t fully sure what will happen if the Unknown Devil uses their full power. which is ironic because the fear of not knowing what benrey’s truly capable of feeds his power more. the only thing black mesa can do is make sure benrey never remembers. 

some other not as thought out thoughts on this au that i’m throwing around in my head: 

* the rest of the science team are all working for black mesa too obviously

* bubby is the Combustion Fiend because i want him to have the fire powers and also still have a connection to cars (gas-run cars use combustion engines)

* coomer is a human in contract with a devil. still not sure what devil(s) it’ll be. violence devil would’ve been perfect if the violence fiend didn’t already exist. maybe a clone devil and/or a knowledge devil supplemented with his own cybernetic implants. 

* tommy is the son of g-man and his contracts are a secret. :)

* sunkist is the Dog Fiend--an experiment by black mesa to see if it was possible for a devil to possess other bodies other than humans. she can be any dog but defaults to golden retriever because that’s what his body was originally. tommy is her favorite. 

[titichan]

The Taste of Betrayal

Chapter- 1

A Sukuna x Yuuji x Gojo Fanfic...

Tags: Vampire!Au, Vampire-Hunter dynamics, Bottom!Yuuji, Top!Gojo, Top!Sukuna, Threesome, M/M/M, Sex toys, Bondage, Slight bdsm, Rough sex, A little bit of gore, porn with Plot, Slight mentions of Meimei and Nanami, Author is Sukuna's bitch ;], Other tags will be added as I commence

Note: Alright, so this was my veryyy first ff- which I had started 5 months ago (And still isn't complete lmao). Due to some problems, I was kick outta my prev Ao3 account, and really really wanted to continue this fic- so, while I wait for my Ao3 invitation, imma continue uploadin' here 😘

'The humans have been divided into three categories-

The Humans or, the prey

The Vampires or, the predator

And,

the Hunters, the protector of the prey'

Amidst the busy streets of Tokyo, a hunter was perched on a lone building- aiming at a vampire.

Clothed and masked in black, he was barely noticeable but- his pink hair stood out, shining under the dim moonlight.

He focused at the target and pulled the trigger.

'Bulls eye'

'A clear shot indeed. Yet another vamp' down.'

"Yujii-kun, did you get 'them'?"

A feminine voice echoed from his ear bud. Tapping on it, he spoke, " Yeah, but it isn't 'them' either. "

-

He was just going through the documents, when the same feminine voice was heard, "Yuuji-kun"

He looked up, and saw a dazzling woman standing beside him with two cups of coffee in her hands. As she placed the coffee cup on the table, her silver-like hair swayed- partly revealing her lavender eyes. "Meimei-san"

She smiled, "No need to worry dear, the mission was successful. But, I believe the 'main' mission is still pending?"

She sat down on the sofa in front him. "Yes, I'm very much aware of that."

He stood up. "Got what I asked for?" He said, eyeing the box beside her. The silver-haired smirked, her well-manicured nails clicking against the box. She opened it, and there was a fake ID card and a black hair wig.

He picked up the box. "Though it's my first time going undercover- I don't think I'll fail."

Meimei took a sip of the coffee and shrugged, "Says the best hunter who has nailed each and every mission. Still, I'm really lucky to be your guide, you know."

He responded with a nod. "I'm grateful to you too for getting hold of this mission..." He paused, touching the scar on his face, "...for it's the most probably the ardent clue that could be linked with that day."

Meimei sighed, "Now, now- sit down, will you? Let me show you how to wear the wig."

After she got him ready, she winked "Oh my- I guess we have a lady killer here~"

Totally unfazed by her words, he started packing up for tomorrow.

She caught hold of his arm, signifying him to stop.

"Don't worry about the materials, I've got them safely packed."

Before she went back to her room, she softly said, "Have a safe trip, Itadori Yujii"

-

It was early morning, when Yujii entered a grandiose office building. He was silently scanning the surroundings, when he heard someone from behind.

"Mr.Itadori,"

He turned to face the source of the voice.

A blonde man most probably in his late 20s- his cheek bones were prominent and his speaking, punctual.

"I'm general secretary Nanami Kentou. Nice to meet you."

As he followed the blonde man, Nanami continued, "You're quite early for the first day of your work."

Swiftly, The 'black-haired' answered, "...I just wanted to familiarize myself with the internal structures of the company before starting."

Nanami suddenly stopped at a particular and a humongous door. "You're diligent. But, I'm afraid I will have to intervene into your plans."

He motioned towards the door, "Shall we start by greeting the chairman?"

He knocked on the door, "Chairman, Mr.Itadori has arrived."

When the doors were to be opened, Yujii slowly and cautiously positioned his gun by the back pocket of his suit- just in case.

But, when the doors opened, he saw a tall man leaning against the desk.

"Welcome, " His vivid oceanic eyes gleamed under the morning sun rays.

"I'm Gojo Satoru."

Yujii was captivated by his beauty. Still, he somehow snapped back to reality and bowed, "...I'm Itadori Yujii."

The white-haired smiled and approached him. Suddenly, he offered his hand, "Shall we shake hands?"

Though he was already disgusted and had sworn not to respect a single vampire, he still shook hands with him.

"I'm looking forward to work with you."

He didn't let his guard down at that, his grip on Satoru's hand tightening. When he retracted, looking at him, the white-haired man's eyes were glinting with a hint of 'interest'.

Smiling to himself, Satoru went back to his seat. Signalling to the guest seats nearby, he softly spoke, "Please, have a seat over there."

After getting settled down, his superior demeanour resumed, as he prompted towards Yujii, "Now, shall we start the work which needs to be done right now?"

That did make the hunter flinch a little, but he was quick to compose himself and replied, "....Yes sir."

[the-ace-with-spades]

Being now in a fandom with lots of urban fantasy/creatures AU fics (CoD...), what kind of creatures do you think our Top Gun and TGM guys and gals would be in a creatures/urban fantasy AU? Or an excuse because I need more of those in TG

I have a personal hatred for vampires (sorry not sorry) so I can't see any vampires...

I love the idea of Ice being a selkie that I've seen on tblr at some point and I think it suits, alright, so you know?? (maybe something else that's more 'dignified' and old?)

I also think Mav would be something that gives other people (even creatures) a slight ick? Like fae or some kind of incubus or a changeling child? Or funnily enough, maybe he's the only human in the fly boys?

Slider would be a werewolf to me. Dunno why, he just looks the part.

Weirdly enough, I'd say Bradley is a werewolf as well. Maybe Goose or Carole were as well, maybe the genes skipped them and it's their family and Bradley only?? I do think Carole would be magical in some way but not too much? Maybe enough of a witch she isn't human but not enough of a witch to be a magic user/belong to a coven?

Look, I know Natasha and Phoenix would be obvious but I also like people calling her Phoenix to piss her off because she's some very specific fire creature many people haven't ever heard about (and also because she might have set something on fire when she was training...) dunno which tho? Or maybe something completely unrelated??

Bob would be something that is easily omitted usually but once that creature part of him shows, everyone is chilled - maybe a banshee?? You know, everyone looking to him to know if anyone dies on the mission??

I'm sorry but Fanboy seems to me to be some kind of trickster (he takes way too much joy from drama??) He's also a bad influence on Reuben in that matter - dunno what he is tho??

Jake is... hard?? to just settle on one. I do think he'd be some kind of magic user. Maybe he'd come from a family of witches and be not so good at it despite that and stick out because of it. Maybe the opposite - maybe his family is humans only or everyone thinks he was born human but he's a changeling who has some completely different abilities that just never got brought out? I do think he'd remind Bradley about his mom in a lot of ways, magic user and all, and I think Bradley would feel a bit weird about it. Maybe there would be some drama regarding courting (because I'm weak for it, being the Teen Wolf fanfic kinda guy...) given how different their cultures are/were??

[somereaderinblue]

Trigun Teen Titans AU

Meryl Stryfe aka Shrike, The Girl Wonder

-Former sidekick to Julai’s vigilante Derringer (Roberto).

-Chose a shrike instead of a robin bcz its size, ferocity & feather colours suit her more.

-Parents were a wealthy couple who stuck their nose in the wrong place & got killed for it.

-Was adopted by her investigative journalist idol, Roberto who was also her vigilante idol.

-Although og TT featured Dick Grayson, she’s more like Tim Drake in the sense that she deduced Roberto’s secret ID, stalked him with her camera & emailed him 999+ powerpoint slides titled ‘Why You Need A Sidekick (Like Me)’ until he gave in.

(-Also, she noticed Roberto’s alcoholism & his less than stellar coping mechanisms. Julai needs Derringer, but Roberto needed an actual person by his side, not just a mass of faces to protect.)

-Eventually got tired of being stuck in his shadow & struck out on her own.

-Then she met a tall hot alien princess, a guy who could shapeshift into the animal kingdom, his cyborg brother & a half-biblically accurate angel and persuaded them into forming a superhero team called the Teen Titans.

-Takes her position as leader (& the only non-superpowered individual) seriously but shows a softer side overtime, especially to Milly.

-The newspaper clippings in her room aren’t strictly for detective work. (Most) Some of them are for sentimental value.

Milly Thompson aka Stunfire, Tamaran’s Princess

-The youngest of 12 siblings in the Tamaranean monarchy.

-Powers are similar to Starfire’s, only her beams are yellow & can stun opponents.

-Gordanians kidnapped her as a bargaining chip against her family. As the youngest, they had no choice but to leave her on her own & prioritize their planet.

-Milly already knew this (because contrary to what many believe, she wasn’t stupid) & escaped on her own.

-Unfortunately, her attempts to remove the handcuffs caused a LOT of collateral damage & misunderstandings.

-A tiny but feisty human warrior talked her down & removed her bindings. Milly kissed her so she could thank her, though that might be difficult since she’s unmoving & her face is now red for some reason??

-Has a huge crush on Meryl but is a bit intimidated by her professionalism. Still, it’s even harder to NOT fall in love with the woman’s strong sense of justice & compassion.

-Visits cafes & goes on long flights with Vash, coaxes WW to try smaller cuter animals she can cuddle with & empathizes with fellow gentle-giant youngest sibling Livio's struggles to fit in/not be a burden.

-Loves to eat her pudding with mustard.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood aka Punisher, The Hunter

-Although every kid at the orphanage was a younger sibling to him, he felt a kinship to the strays, have it be cats, dogs or birds.

-One day, someone swung by, offering apprenticeships for some kinda fancy animal research school. WW liked animals & jobs like that sounded like they paid well, so why not?

-He instantly regretted this decision when he realized he was the ‘animal’ they planned to research.

(-The Eye of Michael is more or less this AU’s H.I.V.E. Academy.)

-Despite his rebelliousness, he was their top (specimen) student. Livio was also ‘enrolled’ to keep him in check.

-Both of them were assigned to the Gung-Ho Guns & sent on a mission to properly ‘graduate’. Instead, they ditched at the first chance.

-Wanted to hide but couldn’t resist lingering around the orphanage. After stopping someone from robbing the place, he realized maybe, just maybe, these powers he never asked for could be used for something other than senseless violence.

-Also, becoming a ‘hero’ was the biggest middle finger he could give to Chapel.

-The EoM constantly pressured him into using ‘strong animals’ but his teammates have slowly coaxed him into expanding, i.e. a cute cate for recon & a mole for hiding.

-Realizes he has feelings for Vash after getting to know him but feels unworthy of reciprocation. Still, that doesn’t stop him from plopping into his lap for emotional support.

Livio/Razlo Wolfwood aka Double-Fang, The Tri-Punisher

-Has always dreamed of being a hero but knew the best he could be was a doctor or firefighter or something.

-When the EoM returned with an empty slot, he jumped at the chance (even though Razlo said he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, you can’t trust them-).

-Wasn’t suitable for the animal genes, but his body adapted to the cybernetic modifications. They kept him around for Razlo & to ensure WW behaves.

-Eventually, they managed to escape. Livio was still optimistic about becoming a hero, but WW & Razlo were very reluctant.

-Once, Livio wandered too close to the orphanage & accidentally scared a younger kid who called him a monster. He went nonverbal & let Razlo front for a week.

-Returned after he helped WW stop someone from breaking into the orphanage. Both of them realized that their powers could be blessings. Thus, they became a crime-fighting duo.

-After a series of chance encounters, they’re now part of a team.

-Livio is very self-conscious about his cyborg nature, well-aware that out of everyone, the public finds him to be the most intimidating. Luckily, any tabloids who try to slander him mysteriously find themselves socially & financially ruined overnight.

-He’s aware of Vashwood & MillyMeryl. He has front row seats to 2 live slow-burn romances & a betting pool with Razlo on who’ll confess first.

Vash Saverem aka Stampede, The Rebel Angel Humanoid Typhoon

-He & Nai were raised by Rem, a pacifist priestess that worshipped angels called Plants.

-Their blissful childhood was shattered the day they discovered the remains of their older sister, Tesla, the Plant that came to the temple before them as a blessing only for the priests to treat her with less dignity than a sacrifice.

-Nai slaughtered the entire order, including Rem, in a fit of rage & fear. He established a new cult solely devoted to him & Vash. Overtime, his possessiveness & wrath became uncontrollable.

-While attempting to smuggle a group of innocent human sacrifices, Vash got into a fight with Nai that resulted in the loss of his arm.

-It was the final straw, he fled to Earth.

-Briefly, he was taken under the wing of Luida & Brad, the last two survivors of the original temple, who taught him human culture and how to regulate his emotions to have better control over his powers.

-An encounter with a group of heroes & an offer to join their new team had to be a sign. This was it, his chance to atone for his twin’s sins.

-Tries to be the best hero & the bestest ally possible (so the prophecy never comes true). It’s a bit ironic, he wields dark magic but his sunny attitude wouldn’t be out of place in a kids’ fairy cartoon.

-Deeply admires everyone’s kindness, especially WW’s but is terrified of loving him because of his true nature.

-Aside from dark matter-esque energy, his powers sometimes materialize in the form of his Tristamp branches & flowers. Has Plant markings but also Trimax’s biblical feathers & wings.