#team seven undercover

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

He was really something, wasn't he? 🥰

[sliced-peaches]

hitman!Haechan x reader | 1.2k | frenemies..?

he really has the best seat in the house tonight

💿 now playing: sour diesel - zayn // ordinary life- the weekend // zeal - tchami // igloo - kiss of life

a/n: I should be working on my wholesome jaehyun fic but I had this bouncing around in my brain since the tour trailer dropped and watched a bunch of action films. it’s coming soon, I promise. enjoy the beginning of something darker for now 😈

mentions of: MURDER, guns, violence, drugs, nothing really explicit but be warned. 127 members listening to haechan thirst over comms, red velvet Irene, idk I think that’s it

You’ve just walked into the rooftop lounge and it’s the highlight of Haechan’s day. He’s a rooftop away, eyeing you through the scope of a sniper rifle, and you’re stunning. The way you saunter through the crowd of dancing bodies makes every head turn, confidently swaying your hips as you head straight for the bar.

He’s never seen you in anything like this before, a little sparkly dress (if he could even call it that) covering little to nothing and a pair of pretty heels. It’s not really your style, but damn did you knock it out the park tonight. It almost makes him forget you could kill a man at least seven different ways unarmed.

Knowing you, you most likely still found a way to conceal a weapon under the solid one by one foot of fabric that made the entirety of the dress. But with his finger on a trigger he can’t let himself get too worked up over hypothetically trying to find a knife on your person.

“Got a visual on our angel,” he says into his earpiece. “She’s beautiful.”

He can feel Johnny rolling his eyes before said man’s voice crackles over.

“Thank god she’s not on comm, she’d rip you a new one.”

Honestly you could point a gun to his head and he’d probably cream his pants. He keeps that one to himself though, Johnny would probably cuss him out in three languages and throw him off his game.

“I love a woman who can kick my ass,” he dreamily sighs. It earns him a few curses from Yuta instead.

“Shut your weird ass up, targets moving.”

You sit at the bar, dress riding up just a bit when your ass touches the seat. The little extra inch of exposed skin is what really does it for him, like your entire back on display wasn’t enough. He can’t believe you look like this under your usual tact gear.

When the bartender takes your order, you tuck your hair behind your ear and point at a bottle behind him. The way you tilt your head slightly at him as him tripping over his feet, and Haechan grins. You were playing the role so well- this was the sweetest he’s ever seen you.

You were so cute while playing dumb and innocent.

When the team had to regroup after a botched run-in with this city’s most wanted drug lord, you and Doyoung had been adamant that none of the men on the team should engage with your target this time. Last time had been too close of a call for Johnny and Yuta- they got a little too up close and personal with the authorities, almost blowing everyone’s cover. The offensive, more direct tactics just weren’t cutting it and were getting too dangerous.

It was time to go on the defensive and try a more subtle approach, as Doyoung put it. And so they decided that one of the ladies would have to go undercover for this one.

Between you and Irene, it was decided that you’d be the one to go in. While they had said it was because you’d had more experience, it was really because Irene couldn’t pretend she liked men talking to her if her life depended on it.

At first, Haechan had been a little apprehensive.

“This guy can’t be that stupid, right?” He asked back at the hideout, cleaning a piece of his gun with a cloth.

It was a valid concern, even to you who disagreed with him often (sometimes just for funsies). You could do recon, you could blend in, but it had been a while since you purposely stuck out in the crowd. Would you be able to sell it?

But Jungwoo was quick to dismiss any doubts, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Men like that only care about two things: money and pussy. And they’d die for at least one of them. Throw a little something at him, I think you got this one in the bag.”

When the man of the hour walks in with his crew and you immediately catch his eye, Haechan feels it in his gut.

You were going to execute this flawlessly.

“Target spotted.”

Just like they predicted the man makes a beeline for the you while his men spread out in the crowd. You just sip out of a pretty glass and pretend that you’re none the wiser while you wait. You even throw in a little fake jump when he slides in next to you to ask what you’re drinking. Oldest line in the book.

What a loser.

Haechan watches in amusement as you bat your lashes at the man, flashing him the prettiest smile known to man. Serving yourself up to him on a platter.

He has no idea what kind of venom you have running through your veins.

Doyoung and Yuta check in over comms.

“We’re in position. Ready when you are.”

“She’s doing amazing, just a little longer.”

You continue to flirt with the target, throwing your head back in laughter at something he says while Haechan aims right between his eyes. He considers asking if whatever he said was really funny or not later, but that might be disrespectful to the dead.

“I have a clear shot.”

He stills as your hand runs up the man’s arm, stopping to rest on his shoulder.

“Wait for her signal.”

Then you slide out of the barstool, press up against him to whisper something in his ear. The mans eyebrows shoot to the sky.

Oh, how Haechan wishes he could be a fly on the wall instead of a sniper on a roof.

You begin to walk away from the bar, a hand intertwined with the targets as he brainlessly follows. Haechan waits patiently as you raise your free hand to the sky.

He sucks in a breath…

And there it is.

You take one small step to the left. He breathes out and takes the shot. One is all it takes.

“Got him.”

The target crumples to the floor.

“All right, let’s move!”

Chaos erupts, everyone ducking for cover and trying to escape as shots ring out. You quickly grab the gun out of the dead man’s holster and jump behind the bar to take cover. He expertly takes out someone who’s spotted you before they could chase after you.

Yuta and Johnny make quick work to clear the opposition as they make their way to you. With no one to answer to, the dead target’s crew is easy to take out or discourage altogether and soon the rooftop is cleared out.

Haechan stands up to get a better look. You stand there as Johnny checks you over, a scowl on your face when he laughs. The tall man points to where he stands on the roof, and you follow his arm to see Haechan waving frantically.

He waits with a shit eating grin on his face while Johnny passes you his earpiece.

“Fuck you, you got blood on my dress.”

“I’m sure with your cut you can buy a new one. But I’ll make it up to you.”

He howls when you flip him off.

[januaryembrs]

hi em!! im so late but happy 3k, it’s so deserved you’re an amazing writer! anyway, could i order a tea? i saw this picture: https://pin.it/mv0D4zZ9s and i thought it would be fun if bushy and spencer went to the beach and he was hating it cos of germs and all that, but then he had to wear his sunglasses over his normal glasses and bugsy’s just teasing him—have fun!

description: Bugsy and Spencer have a little downtime at the beach after hiding their relationship for all of one week

length: 1.1k

warning: nothing really, talk of spider mating rituals lol. Picture nonnie was talking about included above!

part of the trouble almost all my life universe

She leaned into his embrace, her back pressing against his warm chest, his skin sticky with a meld of sweat and suncream as they watched the waves rolling into shore.

“I love them all so much,” She sighed, Spencer’s arms wrapping around her waist to lean a book on the soft of her stomach, creasing where she’d pulled on one of his shirts over her bikini, “But I miss things being just us sometimes,”

“Bug, we live together,” Spencer smirked, and she groaned, flicking a glance up at him where he was squinting behind the lenses of his prescription glasses, trying to read his novel whilst looking over her shoulder. 

“You know what I meant,” She grumbled, feeling stupid for saying it, only for him to chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into the nooks of her spine. She smiled at the feeling, the grin widening when he kissed the side of her head sweetly.

“I know what you meant,” He agreed, giving her a few more pecks for good measure because as much as he loved teasing her until she was unnaturally shy, he loved the affectionate side of her more. “It’s getting hard hiding it from them,”

“And yet we’re so good at it,” She quipped, the two of them sharing a towel instead of a sunlounger, Spencer’s head being propped up by their bags and jackets, his girlfriend nestled between his legs like they were a single cell amoeba, “We could be like spies, all this undercover work. Seven whole days hiding a relationship from five of the best profiler’s in America, that’s got to be some kind of record.”

He smiled, and lay his book down flat on her stomach, sacrificing his now free hands to wrap all the way around her and squeeze her to him tightly. Because she was right. He loved the every day routine they’d slipped into at home, the natural kisses before bed and before they left the comfort of their four walls, the only space where they could be so openly themselves without prying eyes. He wished he could hold her like this every day, or atleast didn’t have to watch over his shoulder for any of the team watching just a little too closely when they would exchange loving looks. 

He loved being able to hold her so unapologetically, loved that she preened and nuzzled into his touch like it was all she’d ever wanted as well. Spencer never had to question himself a single moment he was with her. He knew every shred of love he’d ever felt for her was reciprocated, and the thought of it alone made him warm inside, where they lay comfortably on the sunny beach, only a handful of other patrons enjoying the Friday morning waves. 

He felt a headache brewing however from the light glaring in his eyes, and he cursed not listening to her when she reminded him to get his contact lenses ordered, deciding almost immediately that she would always know better than him no matter how high his IQ was or how many doctorates he polished on his shelf. Because she always knew everything when it came to him. 

“Too bright?” She asked, as if she’d wormed her way into his head, though it wasn’t difficult to guess from his squinting, the way his nose scrunched in pain as he nodded. And with no more explanation needed, she drew the sunglasses off her own nose to slide over the top of his specs. Pushing them up gently with the tip of her finger, she giggled as she saw his shaded hues looking down at her through four separate windows, and he raised his eyebrows at her. “Better?” 

“Oh, yeah, much better. I love looking like some kind of weird Spider man with an insanely hot girlfriend,” He said flatly, and she sniggered, her face upside down when she looked up at him, the crown of her head pressing against his chest. 

“I always had a thing for Spider-man,” She said, blinking up at him and Spencer wondered what he ever did to get a girl so pretty she was attractive even upside down and smeared with oily sunscreen, “Don’t know if you’d know this but I have a thing for the tall, genius guys with kind eyes.”

“I didn’t know that,” He said with a wry smile and an adoring gaze, and he couldn’t help but steal a small peck to her lips, knowing he looked a little dumb with his second pair of glasses slipping down his nose. She didn’t seem to care as she kissed him back. She settled back into his chest, picking his book up to flick through what he’d been reading, and she felt him bury his nose into her hair, his hands slipping under her shirt to paw at the free skin of her belly, running his fingertips over it lovingly. 

“Technically if you were some sort of Spider/Man hybrid, you’d need to do a mating dance to woo me away from other suitors,” She said mindlessly, and he chuckled, his headache ebbing away with the sun’s rays deflecting off his face. 

“Yes, and then you’d more than likely eat me afterwards,” He replied, and she moved a hand away from the book to trace an invisible drawing over his forearm, following the grooves of his veins and nerves where they pulsed against his humid skin, her eyes never leaving the pages of the book. 

“Good thing we haven’t mated yet then. I kind of like having you around,” She quipped and she felt him freeze, flicking him a smile so he’d know she was teasing him. Because they hadn’t gone any further than long kisses and soft touches just above the waistline. Hell, seeing her in a bikini was the closest they’d gotten to being naked, and even then she’d covered up with a shirt mere moments after. That little word ‘Yet’ dangled over them, and Spencer found himself smiling back at her, knowing they could take all the time they needed because for now it was just between them. No nosy questions from Garcia and Morgan, no intrigued if not worried glances from Hotch, no knowing smiles from Rossi and Blake. They could just be them. Just Bugsy and Spencer, the way they’d always wanted it to be. 

“Not to mention the fact you’d have to give birth to about two-hundred babies that would eat you alive,” He murmured, and she giggled, squeezing his hand in her own. 

“God, you know just how to talk dirty to me,” She said, and he chuckled, tugging the cap off his head to slide onto her own because he could feel the heat beating down on her face from here, and knew she would forget to re-apply if he didn’t step in. 

Yeah, Spencer was more than happy to have things stay like this for a little while.

[bohemianblasphemy]

Heist.

Billy Butcher x fem!reader

You and Billy team up for an undercover mission in Vought Tower to corner a target for information. Pretending to be a couple was proven to be more realistic than you both bargained for.

Contains: canon violence, gun use, jealous butcher, Mr and Mrs Smith vibes, Billy turned on by reader being a badass, incel vibes from a target, Smut, Car sex, unprotected P in V, creampie, Oral (f! Receiving), handjob, bad writing

A/N: Is it after 3am as I post this? Yes but we back with some Billy goodness! I hope you enjoy ✨

The Boys had a new target - Stan Edgar’s assistant- who was linked to Homelander’s next shady gig, and you were gonna find out what it was. And what better way to get to that information is to be undercover at Vought’s annual celebration of the Seven?

Frenchie, with his self proclaimed ‘Jack of all trades’ skills managed to scrub up some phoney invites for Butcher and yourself, made up with fake aliases - an English tycoon and his brand owner girlfriend- totally inconspicuous.

“You right there, love?”

Billy’s voice cut through the moment of disassociation you were experiencing, wall-flowering the cream colour marbled decor of the Vought Tower walls.

“As good as I can be being in this fucking hellhole, plus my feet are killing me in these heels.” You replied back, pupils raking in his all black suit.

His shirt buttoned all the way to the top and dressed with a tie- it was such a different sight of his usual attire, but did it look hot?

Absolutely it did.

His eyes grazed over the floor length strapless dress that hugged your figure, your hair pinned into a messy updo with a striking red lip that pulled the entire look together.

He thought you looked so damn beautiful…

With a clear of his throat, he squashed those thoughts down into his chest - they both had a job to do.

“Frenchie, have you got eyes on the target?” You murmured, hoping that the ear piece could pick up your hushed tone.

“Target is all the way over in the corner of the ballroom, Mes Amours. Get yourselves over there, pretend you love each other.” Frenchies crackled voice was laced with a teasing tone, before cutting off.

Butcher sighed and rolled his eyes slightly, but couldn’t help the flush that danced along his collar before turning to you, feigning that smirk he always adorned with.

“Shall we then, love?” He offered his arm, which you took a little too eagerly. He didn’t take mind to it - after all It was just for show right?

Right?

Making your way through the crowd, the overwhelmingly pretentious ‘I’m richer and better than you’ conversation was the hot topic amongst the wealthy guests invaded your ears, almost threatening to give you a headache.

Your eyes swung to glance at Butcher, his expression slightly stern as he observed the room. There was no way of steering your attention away from him, not when he looked that good in a suit.

“You’re starin’…” his gruff voice hit your ear, making you snap out of your hypnosis. “Lookin’ at me like you wanna jump my bones, sweetheart…” pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

The action brought a sudden spark to your system- was that apart of the act? Or was it real? Your brain was in overdrive as you tried to interpret what it meant.

Stop it. Focus.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore what had just happened. “Jesus, you’d think these people would at least have a personality.” You feigned a chuckle to change the subject, bringing up the pile of the snobs that were lined up like sardines on the floor. He chuckled, letting it go this time. “Nothing in those brains of theirs love, only money in their pockets.”

Scanning around the sea of people as you settled in your own little corner, your eyes fell on the target who was attempting to chat up one of the many beautiful women in the room- only to be rejected once more.

The scowl on his features was amusing to say the least, similar to how a child would look if they had their iPad taken away from them.

“Eyes are on the subject Frenchie, I have an idea…” you spoke without faltering your expression as you turned to butcher. He raised a brow at you, an expectant look formed as he waited for you to explain your plan.

“Go over to that bar, wait for me to give you a signal.” You created a gesture for butcher to recognise. “Wait what’re you gonna do?” “You’ll see, trust me.” You gave him a reassuring squeeze on his bicep, eyes flicking to his before turning on your heel as you strutted toward the target. Billy watched as you swayed your hips just that little bit, his unsavoury imagination picturing what you would look like with that dress ripped off of you-

“Butcher, what the fuck is she doing?!” Frenchie spoke into the ear piece, a mix of concern and annoyance, giving poor Billy boy a fright. “Fuck knows, French. Just keep an eye out if this go sideways yeah?” Billy sighed, before making his way to the bar- a whiskey on the rocks being poured for him as he watched you like a hawk.

You took a deep breath as you approached the wimpy assistant, hearing him muttering to himself about how ‘all women are the same’- great, one of those guys.

“Well… hey there.” You grimaced at your sham seductive voice, but it didn’t seem to faze the assistant- his attention turning to you. “O-oh hello, um… I’m uh-“ he fumbled as he muttered his name, as he tried to straighten out his suit jacket and adjust his greasy hair.

“Cute name… I’m Layla.” Your fake name rolled off the tongue unnaturally- again, another pinch of cringe filling your being. “What do you do with yourself?”

As the conversation progressed, Billy leered at you from the bar as you flirted with the subject. Watching how you twirled your hair around your finger as you gazed at him like he was created by God herself, swatting your hand against his chest when he supposedly said something funny. He knew it was all fake, but the grip he had on his glass gave away how he truly felt, along with his scowl and flared nostrils.

“Why don’t we…” you whispered, coming close to his ear- your breath tickling his skin. “Go somewhere… private?” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, twirling a finger around his ugly patterned tie.

The man was flushed, nodding rapidly at your offer, his forehead sweating with nerves. “Come this way, there’s an empty office down the hall.” He grabbed your hand, starting to lead you down a hall, beyond the makeshift barrier between the rest of the building and the ballroom.

Your head swivelled in butchers direction, twitching your head to signal him to follow before disappearing into the hallway.

Billy slammed his glass on the bar counter, bee lining to your direction. His thoughts were running rampant with jealousy- wanting to be the one who you were giving bedroom eyes to, the only one that your delicate hands would touch.

He was determined to make sure you knew that you were his, and he was yours.

Turning that corner down the hall and following the sound of your heels, Billy gets a glimpse of an office door- the one that you and the object of his jealously had just entered.

As he reached the door, he saw you perched on a desk, the target moving to stand between your thighs to press sloppy kisses along your neck and chest - Billy’s entire being filled with hot rage and envy as he slammed the door, alerting them of his presence.

Your eyes landed on butcher, smirking as your plan had worked - the asshole was stuck in a room with you two, no where to run or hide. “Cmon man, can’t you see I’m about to get lucky here-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing it.

Billy’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, sure he had seen you take down criminals before but… doing it in a dress and heels? It was doing things to him.

“No fucking way that you’re getting all this.” You grumbled, pulling out the pistol that was strapped to your thigh, pressing it to his temple.

“We have a question for you, and you’re gonna answer them- or…” you pressed the cool metal against his temple. “Your brains are gonna be all over this fucking office.”

“Fuck you, you fucking bitch!” He spat, trying to make a grab at you before Billy yanked him away, slamming him to the desk, his arms locked behind his back.

“Right, cunt. You’re gonna tell us what Homelander is up to, or someone’s bollocks is gonna be cut off and shoved down their throat.” Billy bared his teeth, a death grip on the man’s hair. “I’m not telling you shit-“ he grunted in pain as butcher lifted his head and slammed it against the counter again.

“You will be, or this pretty lady right here-“ he pointed to you. “Is gonna blow a crater into that head of yours. Now, you gonna spill? Or is she gonna paint this nice table with your cerebrum?”

The assistant was silent, trying to writhe out of Billy’s grip, not before you lay a backhanded slap against his cheek. “Answer him, fuckface.” You were aggressive, but that slap was just the tip of the iceberg of what you were capable of.

“Okay fine!” The man whined, making you and Billy look at each other in confusion of how quickly it was to make him break.

“There’s a - a secret lab, a bunker in the Bronx. They’re creating something - like, a stronger dose of V. Homelanders involved with it. They’re using people as Guinea pigs and they’re dying, That’s all I know. Please let me go, please don’t kill me.” He pleaded, tears brimming his eyes.

You looked down at him, a faux pout contorting on your lips. “There you go… see what happens when you do as you’re told?” You smirked before the butt of your pistol hit his temple and knocking him unconscious, his limp body ragdolling to the ground.

“Subject is down, Frenchie. We have the information and heading back to base.” You said into your piece, hearing Frenchie confirm that he had received your message.

Butcher stood in place, his blown pupils never leaving your figure as you sat perched on the table, raising the skirt of your dress to put your gun back in the holster.

He couldn’t take it anymore, moving to plant his feet in front of you- pressing himself to your front. He pulled up your chin, making you look at him- taking your surprise.

“Fuckin’ hell love, seeing you do that…” his calloused thumb pulling down at your bottom lip, smudging some of your lipstick. “Drives me fuckin’ crazy, always has.”

A small chuckle left your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to his thumb- all those teasing words and small touches exchanged between you both since you both met all lead to this moment... never to turn back.

“Watching me slapping people around turns you on now does it?” You purred, straightening his jacket and tie. “Mmm… yeah. Makes me wanna fuck the shit outta-“

“Oh mon dieu, don’t dirty talk on the job.” Frenchie groaned, cockblocking the situation to save his poor ears.

Butcher let out a laugh, putting his forehead on yours. “Bloody hell, making me forget we’re on a job there.” His eyes averted to the unconscious body on the ground.

You rolled your eyes as he stood up straight again. “Let’s get outta here then hmm?” You said softly.

He nodded in agreement, taking a hold of your hips to shimmy you down the furniture piece, pulling you into his side as his arm extends around you- his palm just above your ass.

As the pair of you exited, there was a shout down the hallway- security guards had noticed the barrier had been moved, catching you both in the restricted area.

“Shit run!” Billy practically dragged you further down the hall- searching for any way out - anything to get out to the car. Your feet ran, trying to ignore the grief of pain your shoes were giving you through your soles.

“Frenchie we need a way out right fuckin’ now.” You said, your words becoming breathless. “There’s an exit on your left at the end of the hall, the closest way to get to the car. fous le camp de là!” The Frenchman’s now frantic tone cut off, you both had to run and get out of that tower.

Your hands pushed hard on that door as you reached the exit, the home run towards Billy’s Cadillac not leaving room for any fault. The security guards started to threaten their use of weapons, the familiar sounds of rounds clicking in their hand guns.

You winced, starting to limp from the poor choice of footwear. Billy noticed you falling a few feet behind, turning around to get back to you- picking your arm to sling over his shoulder to help carry you the last few hundred meters.

“Nearly there, we’ve got it love.” He reassured, his free hand reaching for the keys in his pocket - becoming in range to unlock the car as you approached.

As soon as you both reached the car, the sound of shots echoing in the alley way rang in your ears as he threw open the passenger door, pushing you into your seat and slamming the door as Billy slid over the bonnet, getting into the drivers side.

There was no time to strap in, Billy putting the pedal to the metal and screeching out of that alley way, dodging any bullets ricocheting towards the car as Billy reached top speed, twisting through the bustling New York streets.

“We can’t go back to the hideout just yet, gotta lay low somewhere so we don’t compromise the others. That alright?” Butcher glanced over at you as your fingers took out your earpiece before fiddling with the fastening on your heels, a breathy sigh of relief as you freed yourself from them. “Y-yeah… that’s okay. Let’s get to a secluded spot.” You replied softly, the exhaustion from your escapade was chasing after you.

He chuckled as he watched your relieved face from being able to rest, taking out his ear piece.

It was silent for a while, the outside landscape dissipated from the city lights to more natural surroundings.

“You did well, sweetheart…” he complimented, pulling his signature smirk and placing his hand on your thigh, giving you a reassuring squeeze before pulling back. “So damn good…”

A small giggle and teasing smile came over you, a swipe of your tongue over your bottom lip as you watched him drive.

“Mm… I could hear you praise me any day.”

“Trust me lovey, I’ll give it to you in abundance.”

Your hand snaked down to his own thigh, moving agonisingly close to where he wanted you most- your palm rubbing up against the smooth fabric of his clothed cock.

He let out a deep sigh through his nose, his arousal spreading through his body - the feeling of your hand on him was more addictive than any drug he had ever taken.

“I cant wait any longer, I’m pullin’ over.” Billy huffs, drifting down a dirt path- travelling a few kilometres to a secluded area concealed by trees and foliage.

Putting his Cadillac into park, his darkened gaze turns to you. “Get in the back, now.” He ordered, his words pooling in your core. Without a word you unbuckled your seatbelt, opening the car door to get into the back- draping over the leather seats.

Butcher followed suit, taking off his suit jacket and loosening his tie as he crawled over you- his lips pressing against yours hard, almost bruising as he desperately sought out your taste.

Your hands pulled at his dark hair, a deep growl from within his chest spilling into your mouth as he moved his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and coaxing moans and his name to fall from your kiss bitten lips- sounds he had longed to hear.

“I’ve waited… too fuckin’ long for this.” His voice was husky as his lips trailed down your collar, before flipping you over onto your stomach. “As much as I love this dress on ya, I need to see what’s waitin’ underneath.” He smirked as he took hold of the zipper and pulled it down, your back becoming exposed to him. “Oh I’m sure you’ll like what waiting for you…”

Billy peeled the rest of your dress off of your body- admiring the arch of your back, the roundness of your underwear covered ass as he ran his large palm across your skin- hooking his index finger under the material to pull it down your thighs, leaving your silken cunt on display for him. “So fuckin’ wet and I ain’t done nothing yet.” He chuckled, running his finger through your delicate folds, earning another delicious moan from you.

“Billy… please - do something.” You whispered, desperately needing some relief on your aching core.

He adjusted himself behind you, his strong fingers holding the apex of your thighs open as he leaned in close, his hot breath hitting your center- his tongue dragging flatly against your cunt, savouring your taste before dipping back down, lapping at your clit.

The way he felt against you was unbelievable- that mouth of his was to die for. Your hips uncontrollably bucked up against his face, moaning at the sensation of his dirty mouth bringing you to euphoria.

“God Billy… fuck!” You whined, unable to stay still before he dug his thick digits into your ass cheeks, holding you in place as he continued- not stopping until you came hard on his tongue. “B-Billy I-i can’t hold- please, Im gonna cum…” you breathed, unable to hold your head up as your thighs shuddered- a high pitched moan erupting from within you as your orgasm washed over you.

“Such a good girl, so sweet…” he grumbled as he dragged his tongue over you once more, manoeuvring it over your slit- pressing a kiss to it before turning you around onto your back.

He kissed you with that same lusty passion as he did before, feeling your hands unbutton his shirt to reveal his chest. The soft defined muscles, tufts of chest hair, faded scars and freckles that riddled his chest left you in awe, your fingers touching his hot flesh as you worked them down to the hem of his slacks.

You worked fast to unzip them and pull them down slightly, giving you room to release his cock from his boxers. His hard length was leaking pre cum as you ran your delicate fingers over it- slowly and softly pumping it, earning a grunt of pleasure.

Billy panted, burying his head into your neck. “Feels good-“ he managed to get some words out, but your actions made him feel like putty in your hands. “Someone likes that…” you purred, biting down on his earlobe.

“Fuck love I need to fuck you, I can’t take it.” He breathed, swatting your hand gently from his cock.

He made sure you lay comfortable in the back seat, before sitting on his knees in front of you, running his length along your wet cunt - before sliding himself into you with an audible grunt, your tight walls squeezed around him as you let out a cry of sinful sounds.

“ move, please…” you whispered, grabbing onto his shoulders as he began to thrust at a faster pace. The car began to rock, the windows began to fog as Billy took you- his palms kneading your breasts as he watched your sensual expressions, motivating him to fuck you a little faster.

His thrusts never faltered, his mouth falling open in the overwhelming feeling of being in you, finally having you…

“So fuckin’ tight, and all mine…” he bit down on your shoulder, causing another cry to burst from your lips.

It didn’t take much time before his thrusts became sloppy, his cock throbbing to announce his release. “Gonna cum- fuck…” he gritted his teeth.

“Fill me up, I want it. Give it to me…” you pulled at his hair once more, a higher pitched grunt filling the Cadillac as one final thrust made his orgasm wash over him as he rutted his cum deep within you.

Billy lay there for a moment, deep breathing coming from both of your bodies before his hovered above you- giving you a warm smile and pushing some hair away from your face.

“Beautiful…” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled back up at him, a soft blush crawling across your cheeks. “Who’d have thought that the mission would end like this?” You chuckled.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, love…”

Tags <3: @bluemerakis

[baocean]

baocean’s

obx masterlist 🌾🐚

✦ - smut!! please read at your own discretion. don’t read what you’re not comfortable with :)) minors! stay away! do not interact!!!

currently thinking of… series

jj maybank 1 | jj maybank 2 ✦

pope heyward 1

rafe cameron 1 | rafe cameron 2

sarah cameron 1

r. cameron

series

starting over - you’ve moved back to the obx after 4 years of growing your career in california. your friendships stayed afloat during your time away, you can’t say the same about your relationship. but rafe hears your back in town, and it set on not letting you go this time

queen street - being eighteen and drafted to a hockey team in a completely different country was a big change for rafe cameron. but, that was three years ago. now, he’s made quite the name for himself. of course you knew who rafe cameron was, the all star, the stud, the poster child of the toronto maple leafs. but, you thought it was kind of funny when you pretended you didn’t after he slid into your dms

one shots

the manchester’s - ✦ your partner rafe cameron and you were on a mission for one reason, and one reason only. to take out the target. on this mission, your aliases were husband and wife, playing house for the whole night. who knew that could bring out so many truths

love ain’t - your boyfriend was a dick. rafe cameron kept trying to tell you that

flirt - ✦ when rafe cameron finally takes an interest in you, you think its just another one of his one night stands

break up in the end - who was rafe to say no to you, even if it always ended in breaking up

j. maybank

series

#undercover - since the pogues got home after getting rich off gold, you’ve all moved in together, the business is going well, life is good. you’ve also, gone viral. a few of them become overnight tiktok sensations. you, being the friend you are, create a fan page for your best friend, jj

one shots

boy next door ✦ - you’d just moved to the outer banks, borderline obsessed with your super cool, friendly neighbors. one in particular, the cute blond who happens to have noticed you too

springsteen - seventeen years old or twenty-seven, it didn’t matter, you still loved jj maybank

not interested - your friends have been trying to set you and jj up all summer, they just don’t know one tiny detail

friends don’t - you weren’t exactly certain on how best friends acted around each other, but you knew it wasn’t how you and jj did

make up - ✦ after jj hooked up with your best friend, you wrote both of them off. it’d been easy to ignore the both of them, until you came face to face with him

kiss me at midnight - it was new year’s eve, and you were finally carrying out the idea to tell jj how you felt. and in the perfect way, by kissing him at midnight

j. routledge

something like that - both you and jb are forced to go to the fair by your friends, not knowing it would be a weekend you wouldn't forget

[luca-street-chris-deacon-rp]

@ofmymanymuses

For seven years Luca had been undercover in prison as an inmate and in that time he had committed acts as a prisoner to retain his cover and it was perfectly legal. But for the last seven years he hadn't accepted a single visitor or replied to a letter and to keep up with the pretense, he had gone through the process of parole to keep his cover up with the guards and once he would he released he would be reinstated into SWAT after a break, some therapy or whatever it took to get him back on track and already he was struggling to even think of going back to his real life.

The officers who were dealing with the active case were the only ones who visited, under the guise of being lawyers which the Warden and Department of Justice knew, but none of the corrections officers knew in case it slipped out and put Luca at risk.

But for once he accepted a visitor and he wasn't sure how he felt about seeing Fallon for the first time in seven years.

He shuffled along the corridor towards the private interview room where he was told his lawyer would be waiting for him, a completely private consultation with no audio recording, video recording or witnesses to whatever took place. His ankles were shackled and connected to his waist and his hands were cuffed in front of him as he was led into the interview room. He avoided Fallon's gaze, embarrassed that she was seeing him in this position because he knew that both her and the team had heard about his antics and behaviour within the prison, becoming a gang enforcer because it was part of his orders. He sat down at the opposite side of the table and his wrists were roughly attached the huge metal loop on the table, the handcuffs digging into his wrists and his face showed the discomfort.

The corrections officer left them to it and sat defeated as his gaze was fixed on the table.

[altruistic-meme]

skk fic rec time !!! 🖤🖤

okay i officially have more skk fics bookmarked on my ao3 than my sister has fics in general bookmarked on hers. so. it is time for another ficrec list by abram, bsd/skk version this time!!!

i have no idea yet how many fics will be on this list. i will go until i decide to stop. but as of right now i have 124 bsd fics bookmarked and i definitely won't be listing all of them so if anyone wants a pt. 2 then i certainly have the material to do that.

i'm not putting warnings with the fics, but bc this is BSD please do take note of tags and warnings that are given! i read a lot of fics with darker material so do be cautious!

One-Shots:

keep you alive, set you on fire by flyby @orbitalflyby (Explicit, 23k) Dazai steps out in a dress and heels for a mission, since the gown won't fit Yosano. He's only supposed to spend an hour or so leading their targets on a dance around a charity gala, but the unexpected arrival of a certain Port Mafia Executive threatens to disrupt all his plans. And when he and Chuuya find themselves finally face to face, they end up entwined in a tense game of mutual provocation...

~

Don't Pull Your Punches by kanekei (Teen and Up Audiences, 5k) Everyone thinks that their partnership is a series of Dazai being a troublemaker while Chuuya is helplessly dragged along for the ride. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Some days it feels like Dazai is the only one aware of how insane Chuuya actually is. OR: 3 times Dazai cleans up after Chuuya + 1 time he doesn’t bother

~

The 5 Elements of an Apology by artemisiatea (Teen and Up Audiences, 6k) in which dazai learns that change is hard, but accountability is harder

~

Tea Over Rice by the_most_happy (Teen and Up Audiences, 8k) “Oi, Dazai— what would people say if they saw us?” Dazai gave him a puzzled look. “That we’re happy,” he answered. He made it sound simple; he made it sound pure. “They would say we’re happy.” They never stopped being Double Black — just different clothes and less blood on their hands. [Or: What if Dazai and Chuuya escaped the Port Mafia together?]

~

Lost All Judgement by todxrxki (Teen and Up Audiences, 12k) “Uh, sorry, but unfortunately I already have a date to the dance.” “Oh, really?” Tachihara says, sounding disappointed. He pauses for a second, clearly processing what Chuuya’s just told him, and then says, “Who is it?” Chuuya certainly hadn’t budgeted for this. Panicking, he tries to think of the people that he knows that are single, and before he knows it, the first name that comes to mind is slipping out of his mouth. “With Dazai.” / After a momentary lapse in judgment, high school student Chuuya ends up having to pretend to date his enemy Dazai to get Tachihara off of his back - and quickly finds it's nowhere as bad as he'd imagined.

~

oh darling it's alarming to think of us apart (you know you've got me in your pocket) by interludewings (Teen and Up Audiences, 20k) “Okay so if we’re both still single when we’re twenty two,” Dazai’s smile grew even wider. “Let’s marry each other.” By the time Chuuya’s twenty two, he’d probably be in a relationship with someone else, and the possibilities of them even remembering each other were slim to none. And so, Chuuya gave his answer. “Fine, let’s do that.” In short, fifteen year olds Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya made a stupid promise one day in their school library out of boredom, which leads to the next seven years of their life filled with fighting, burnt notebooks and late night conversations.

~

The Undercover Mission by OldSauk411 (Teen and Up Audiences, 16k) It all started when Atsushi was sent to drop off some papers that the Port Mafia had let them borrow. That was when he saw her, the woman with orange hair and blue eyes standing in the Port Mafia's hallways and talking. She was beautiful if he was being honest. However, after he left, he forgot about her- at least until a few months later, when the ADA and the Port Mafia teamed up for an undercover mission. One that was led by said 'woman'. Aka, Chuuya Nakahara. _____ Or: Atsushi sees a woman from a distance and thinks she's beautiful, up until the Port Mafia and the ADA team up for an undercover mission and it's revealed that the woman was actually Chuuya Nakahara.

~

Nothing but your spine by osamuchuu (Mature, 6k) “Oi, Dazai. We’re here.” Chuuya reached into the car to shake Dazai’s shoulders a bit, rearranging his coat to lay over the man’s back. Dazai swayed and blinked up at him. Whatever painkillers he’d been given had stolen the sharpness from his face. Dazai looked fifteen again, wide-eyed and vulnerable. And then he smiled. He smiled and Chuuya’s heart stuttered because it was so fucking real, so small and different from all the painted faces he wore now. This was dangerous.

~

strange loyalties by finalizer @tarmairons (Mature, 13k) “The Agency dorms are being fumigated,” Dazai explained cheerfully. “So, I offered—Atsushi can stay with us.” Or: Atsushi's observations from inside Yokohama's strangest household.

[sidenote: this is actually a sequel fic and while i loved the first one, this one really just took me to a whole other plane of existence which is why it's the one on the rec list. i do also rec the first one though!]

~

Yokohama public High School- almost as crazy as their pep rallies by BlowingYourMind (General Audiences, 20k) "The slacks! They're way too tight on him! Exactly no teachers ass should be like that, the students may be offended-" "Dazai, I think you're the only one that notices, and maybe refrain from eyeing up your co-workers like that-" "But how can I not!" Dazai huffed "It's right there in front of my face, it's hideous!" Oda sighed. he was just an average man with an average job gaining an average salary, but he would need to find a way to help Dazai and his obvious crush on Chuuya Nakahara before he lost his sanity. Or The story of how Chemistry teacher Dazai Osamu fell helplessly for coach Nakahara Chuuya, and the student body's many attempts to get them together.

~

If you refuse to listen I'll say it twice, love of my life by olympiansally @olympiansally (Mature, 15k) There’s Atsushi, Dazai’s star pupil. There’s Fyodor, arguably Dazai’s soulmate, a single mind in two bodies. There’s Kunikida, Dazai’s partner. There’s Oda, the reason Dazai wants to live. And then there’s Chuuya. If he asked Dazai to define him, to name his purpose, Chuuya already knows what he would hear. Chuuya is his dog, Chuuya is a slug, Chuuya is a chibi. And sure, maybe he is. But none of that is enough. Or, Chuuya can’t figure out what he means to Dazai exactly, but if he would only listen, he would realize that Dazai has been telling him all along.

~

In the throes of Corruption by BlowingYourMind (Teen and Up Audiences, 7k) Dazai’s ability ‘No longer human’ ironically made Chuuya human. It stripped him of the god that set his insides to flame and wreaked havoc. Corruption was terrible to Chuuya but Dazai’s touch never was. Or Five times Dazai helps Chuuya through the throes of Corruption.

~

hide the truth by writingfromtheshadows (Not Rated, 24k) When Chuuya wakes up in the middle of an ongoing fight without any memory of how he got there or what happened to him, he ends up turning to someone saved as 'bandage-waster' in his phone. Somehow, it just feels like the right decision.

~

Dream a little dream of me by BlowingYourMind (Teen and Up Audiences, 9k) "What would you like to dream of, Chuuya?" Dazai asked, and his partner shifted in the bed before settling down. "I dunno idiot, you pick." Dazai hummed, "I believe I can arrange that." Chuuya's eyelashes fluttered against Dazai's palm as Dazai continued to speak, voice turning into a whisper as he spoke late into the night. Or Chuuya can't dream, and Dazai has a soloution that quickly turns into a routine between the two of them.

~

Multichapter fics (all complete)

in the mirror, i bloom by ephemeralis (Teen and Up Audiences, 12k, 2/2) It twists him, turns him, curls in his chest like something alive, something he knows but can’t dare to name. Chuuya curses the red-black petals that fall from his lips, these nearly rotten things that tear him apart from the inside out. Part of him wants to rip his own traitorous heart out, through a ribcage shattered by feelings he can’t contain. Anger is easy, a thing he’s learned to control. This— whatever the hell this is— is not. Or at least it’s easier to feel as though this is beyond his own control, because Chuuya is not in love. (It feels like a lie even to himself.) After he's hit by a strange ability, Chuuya is forced to consider truths he'd much rather keep hidden- but not everything is as simple it seems.

[sidenote: this was the first bsd fic i ever read and HOOOOLLY CRAP what a beautiful way to join the fandom. i've reread this fic several times since. stunning.]

~

where your loyalties lie by writingfromtheshadows (Explicit, 163k, 20/20) Loyalty is the foundation of the yakuza code, something that was drilled into Chuuya at an early age. However, his lessons did not cover how to manage a political marriage with his organization's oldest rival.

~

Inseparable by milwritsecausewhynot (Teen and Up Audiences, 107k, 21/21) Best friends is too simple a term to squash the entire dynamic of Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya within. Sure, they’ve known each other since they were children, and they’re each other’s #1 on their best friend lists on Snapchat, and Chuuya’s been seen one too many times in his hoodies. People have also noticed how Dazai’s main muse for his volunteer hobby of polaroid photographer is the redhead himself. But the pranks they pull on each other isn’t much of a ‘best friend’ thing to do. Especially when one of the pranks get pulled so far, That Chuuya is forbidden from seeing Dazai ever again. And though he sees no good coming from such a forced separation, the one thing that can enhance their futures together is propelled forward at a faster speed than either of them could have ever imagined: Coming to terms with their unusual feelings for each other.

~

Do I Get My Worthless Reward Yet? by World_Ender22 (Teen and Up Audiences, 40k, 10/10) Chuuya has always been certain of two things: he is going to die young, and it will be Corruption that kills him. So when the Boss orders him to use his Corrupted form without an out, he is neither surprised nor distressed. He simply does what he's told. When Dazai learns that the whole thing is a ploy to make him rejoin the Mafia, he plans to beat Mori at his own game... starting with convincing Chuuya to join the Armed Detective Agency. / Soukoku

~

When I Awake by wildflowertea @wildflowerteas (Mature, 235k, 23/23) Dazai Osamu has been in a coma for exactly one year, seven months, and twenty-two days. But Death still refuses to take him. Trapped in the space between worlds, and unable to die, Dazai waits, killing what precious time he may have left and hoping—praying—that his family will pull the plug and move on. He doesn't expect someone to move into his old apartment instead. Nakahara Chuuya, two-time Grammy awards winner, and freshly unemployed pessimist, has never believed in fate—much less the supernatural. But the lively—if a bit annoying—ghost of his apartment's previous tenant, might just change everything.

~

hopelessly devoted by soukocacola (Explicit, 188k, 18/18) "Get your grades up." Oda tells him. "Then we'll talk." Well, Dazai thinks. If he's going to be miserable, the least he can do is make Chuuya miserable, too. Maybe then Chuuya will ditch him and Dazai can fail out of college with no regrets. 

~

His Prized Experiment by fauxtales @fauxfroot (Mature, 94k, 18/18) "As terrifying as it could be, there was something just so freeing in using Corruption. It is, after all, his strongest state. No one can harm him when he uses Corruption; he is all but invincible. There are days when he lets himself dream. There is the part of him wondering if that’s just the god or his instincts trying to convince him to unleash pure chaos and destruction on the world, but that thought is easy enough to push away. He has no control in that state after all." As a teenager, Chuuya is subjected to experiments at Mori's hand in an attempt to find a way to control Corruption. Now, years later, Mori has decided it's time to revisit the experiments. Dazai is having none of it. But can they really leave their entire life behind?

~

death offers no absolution by Zairielon (Mature, 62k, 10/10) After so many years in the Port Mafia, Chuuya thought he couldn't be phased by anything - that he had carried out the worst orders that would ever be given to him. Then he sees things he never saw before. He sees horror, cruelty, needless suffering. He sees death in every step he takes. Chuuya is only human, too. Eventually, he breaks. OR, Chuuya leaves the Port Mafia and attempts to escape his bloodstained past.

~

from a to o, i love you so by anticide @anticidic (Explicit, 22k, 3/3) Here they were dancing a dangerous tango and crossing lines and blurring boundaries that neither Fukuzawa nor Mori would take kindly to. Dazai was supposed to have gotten over Chuuya, not melted in his embrace and bound them together for an eternity. (Or: Dazai and Chuuya's unconventional relationship sparks a radical change within Dazai when he wakes up one day under the weather and feeling very, very off.)

~

My Body is Your Body (I Won't Tell Anybody) by thereweregiants (Explicit, 26k, 2/2) Thanks to a rogue ability user, Dazai and Chuuya find themselves switching bodies. ...yeah, there's no way this ends well.

~

Mission - Entrancing Armed Detective Agency by cocktailjjrs (Teen and Up Audiences, 105k, 12/12) “Charming? Have you finally started dreaming now?” Dazai turned to face his longtime partner again “Say what you want, asshole, but people like me better anyway” Chuuya ignored the jab at his lack of dreams, only shrugging in response. “I can bet anything in this world that you can’t be liked by everyone. Your efforts will be fruitless by the end of the day” “Wanna bet?” Chuuya smirked “You’re on!” Dazai returned the smirk “I’ll tell you who your target will be” . . . In which, Dazai and Chuuya are upto their old shenanigans and make a bet. As a result - Bonds are formed, secrets are revealed, money is spent, devious plans are concatenated; someone gets drugged, someone gets punched, someone gets a wakeup slap. And Chuuya's 'brute' image is at imminent risk. All of this - to with the bet!

~

Prey to Your Instincts by skylorr (Mature, 98k, 8/8) He was a beta. He was normal. Barely any scent, no cycles, no mating instincts. Just plain old normal. At least, that’s what he thought. He thought he was normal. But instead, Dazai is currently curled up on his single mattress in the shipping container that he calls home as he sweats profusely and struggles through cramps, pains, and the desire to nest. His mattress has a single thin blanket, which apparently does not satisfy the omega instincts trying to claw their way out of his mind. He was so close, too; days away from his 17th birthday, the birthday that would have officially made him a beta. Hope is a killer disease.

[sidenote: there is also a sequel to this fic that i recommend just as much! it's still a WIP <3]

~

Illustrations of Lying by writingfromtheshadows (Mature, 49k, 20/20) It is more difficult, perhaps, to bear with fortitude the little daily trails of life, than great calamities, because we summon up all our spiritual and moral strength to resist the latter...  Upon faced with the culmination of Mori's plan, Dazai does not go to Odasaku's side. Instead, he relieves Mori of his duties.

~

i'll bleed out for you by StarshipDancer @neonganymede (Mature, 75k, 7/7) What a shitty way to die.... Less than forty-eight hours ago, they’d been impaled together, and Chuuya had feared that the broken metal pole had pinned him in place against a corpse. Now, he worried that a corpse sat next to him, nothing more than a poorly-crafted imitation of his ex-partner. ... And what an even shittier situation to be stuck in. Or, A mission goes wrong, and Soukoku die together. Except, they don't, but now they're stuck in a safe house pretending that they did. And if Chuuya wants to find out what went wrong with Dazai's plan, he'll first have to find a way around the wall of silence that his former partner has built to keep him out.

~

Cigarette Game by chowderpuff (Teen and Up Audiences, 9k, 2/2) Chuuya has a crush on Dazai. Dazai knows this, and he thinks it’s a prime opportunity to mess with his partner a little. After all, why not? Chuuya’s reactions to his flirting are priceless, a new little bonus feature to the game between them, and Dazai actually starts to find it more entertaining than outright arguing. It’s all harmless fun until Dazai realizes that he has feelings too. Then it's decidedly not.

[ author's tumblrs are tagged when i could find them! if you know one who wasn't tagged or if you're an author and would like to be untagged, let me know! ]

[bangtanhoneys]

GRACE TOUR DIARY: April 4th - 10th 2025, Seoul

APRIL 4TH: INCHEON AIRPORT, SOUTH KOREA

The noise from the private plane made for an uncomfortable sleep, and Grace was awake on and off throughout the journey. The adrenaline from the concert and the adrenaline of the thought that she was finally going home, albeit for not much of a break, meant sleep came sporadically. Up, down, up, down. Deep sleep, light sleep, no sleep. A lap or two of the plane to get the blood flowing into her legs, multiple trips to the bathroom, and returning to her seat to curl up underneath the blanket. 

Catching up on her Korean dramas kept her mind off the remaining hours of the long flight, and the bits of food shared by her team meant she had enough fuel for the remaining few hours in the sky. By the time it hit 3 am, she was wide awake and into a comfortable set of clothes with her face washed and her hair tied up underneath a cap. 

Getting into Incheon Airport at 5 am meant there would be little traffic around, and since this was a trip back home undercover, no press or announcement had been made. For all anyone knew, Grace’s tour finished in New York last night, and her current whereabouts were unknown to everyone, including BTS. A couple of fan photos taken of Seokjin arriving at the airport two days ago added to the speculation that the couple would be going on holiday together, missing the tribute concert that the government had been putting together.

What people didn’t see was Seokjin being escorted back out of the airport and taken home. This was child's play for a couple who had to hide their relationship from everyone for several years. For them to dupe even the rest of the band meant a job had been done very well. The big test would be if anyone was in the airport at this time of the morning to spot them. 

Lucky for Grace and unlucky for those wanting updates, the private jet touched down without much fanfare, and two blacked-out SUVs were already waiting on the tarmac, as was an official from the airport. Her passport, ticket, immigration, and everything else were checked and double-checked before she was allowed to leave the plane. Outside, the cold air hit her, and as she breathed it in, it finally hit Grace that she was finally on Seoul soil and that she was home. Grace spotted a familiar face as Sejin, Hana, and the others loaded up the two cards.

Seokjin, leaning up against the passenger side of the cart, his face partially hidden by his mask and a cap covering his still short hair. It was unmistakably him, and his eyes lit up when he saw her, though he looked as tired as she felt.

“Welcome home, superstar,” he said as he pulled her into a tight hug the moment she was in front of him. 

“You have no idea how much sleep I need,” she murmured into his chest as the tension of the tour and the flight began to melt away.

He chuckled softly, tucking the escaping hair back under her cap that wasn’t doing a good job of hiding who she was. “Oh, I think I do. You look like you could use a week of sleep.”

That sounded like an amazing idea as she climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV, and Seokjin walked around to the other side, slipping into the driver’s seat. She’d have a couple of days of rest, but then it would be straight to work for the government BTS tribute concert. 

“They have no clue?” she asked, watching as the airport drifted away and they were on the road to their shared apartment.

“Nope,” Seokjin laughed. “Yoongi was just complaining to me the other day over dinner that you were likely to miss the concert. I think the boys think you’re still stuck in the States, and I’ve somehow managed to go over there, though they know I’m going to be at the concert so they suspect something. But no, they’ve not fully cottoned on yet.”

Perfect.

There were seven days until the government concert, and Grace had two days of rehearsals, once again in secret. So that meant she had four days of chill time, where she could catch up with her parents, Seokjin’s parents, her nephews, and her team, and get to work. Maybe there would be a chance to escape somewhere with Seokjin for a day or two.

“Fancy a trip to the beach?” 

It was as if Seokjin read her mind, and she glanced towards him. “Let me shower first; I feel like I’ve been through a war.”

APRIL 8TH: HYBE, SEOUL

How Grace managed to stay under the radar while at home was a complete mystery to her. No one had spotted her while she ran to the local convenience store near her home with Seokjin; no one had seen her entering and leaving her parents' apartment building; and no one had seen the two of them as they drove from their home to Hyangho Beach and back again. 

It was a perfect few days of lazy mornings, late-night conversations, and home-cooked food where her attention wasn’t demanded for hours on end. 

But now there was no denying that it was going to be a case of going back to work.

The concert was three days away, and the hype around it was more than the Busan concert. Many were guessing what songs were going to be played, many were guessing who was going to perform, and many were guessing who was going to attend out of BTS. Big Hit had been very tight-lipped, and no mention of the concert had been spotted anywhere on any of Big Hit's social media accounts other than HYBE, who shared the date of the concert, and that was it. 

However, inside of HYBE, it was chaotic. 

One of the practice rooms had been set aside for Grace only to practice in and this is where many of the meetings about the concert were held with the director, stage, dance captain, costume and more. While two of HYBE’s artists, Tomorrow X Together and Seventeen were both set to perform - they also had no idea of Grace’s involvement. Other than Soobin, who like Seokjin, had managed to find out completely on his own and had remained tightlipped about it. 

The set list had been prepared and signed off months ago with songs set aside for various groups and artists. Sets had been designed, costumes had been designed and props had been allocated for various uses. It was going to be a long concert to try and cover the most popular songs and some of the bigger hits while trying to show off a long career that only BTS could pull off. 

While the boys had some say in it, it was mostly left to the Big Hit team and, in secret, Grace. What songs could she easily perform on her own without needing seven others? What songs could she do all the choreography to without someone else taking over? Some hard-hitting hits really needed to be showcased, especially to a government that used and abused BTS at any given moment. Something Grace herself wanted to at least pinpoint with one particular song. 

“So, this is the stage's layout,” a staff member pointed out to Grace and the seven male dancers she used for her tour. The stage itself was similar to the LOVE YOURSELF tour stage, a little bigger to accommodate bigger idol groups and a live band as well. “For the entrance, you’ll be popping out of here,” the staff member circled a set of stairs that was on the main stage, “and then walking down the steps to come towards the edge or near the edge of the main stage.”

Her introduction would be one of the biggest of the night and every single second had been planned with meticulous detail. The intro or at the least the instrumental had been messed around with enough that it could give Grace time to get down the stairs and where she needed to be to start the performance. 

But for now, she needed to pre-record her opening. 

The biggest dupe the K-Pop world had ever seen. 

It would have been easier to do the pre-record before she left for her tour, however, the song in question hadn’t been given the green light as the team wasn’t 100% on what it should actually be. Something newer like RUN BTS or an old hit? But in the end, it had been Tomorrow X Together who had solved the issue with the medley they were set to perform.

Out of HYBE and only a fifteen-minute drive away, Grace found herself on a soundstage that had been set up for the pre-record. She would give a very brief hello and introduction before performing a live version of No More Dream with the band, who were some old friends of Yoongi’s crew and their band from Busan.

As the cameras were being prepped, Grace softly rapped both Yoongi and Namjoon’s parts under her breath. While it was easy to focus on one rapper, this song in particular had four rapper parts and two of the fastest were right at the beginning. It had been an age since she had performed this song, let alone danced to it and she could see out of the corner of her eye the seven male dancers from her dance crew were practising the breakdown. 

This would be the opener for Tomorrow X Together and their medley of early Bangtan hits including Danger, War of Hormone, Run and Boy with Luv and, of course, No More Dream. However, Grace would be doing her own version of their very first single - acoustic and sitting on a chair, on her own with the band and then as it got to Yoongi’s second verse, the dancers would appear. 

Four large screens on stands behind the band would play four separate videos: the original music video for No More Dream, the last performance of No More Dream which was from the Map of the Soul: One 2020 concert, the ARMYPEDIA version and the final dance practice which was uploaded to YouTube. 

The set itself was dressed in black with hints of gold and white, referring back to the original NMD clothes.  But thankfully for Grace, she wouldn’t be required to go back to the original look - black jeans, black top, black leather jacket and the old school black & white Converse. Simple and easy to dance in, but effective to put her back into those old days and her blonde hair was styled back into the ponytail she always used to wear. 

It took the whole day to record the performance for everyone to be happy with it. For Grace, it had been hard to remember the lyrics of everyone and dance the central position after not performing the song itself in years and for the dancers it was getting the dance break down to match the original movements. And after reviewing the footage for a couple of hours, they got the all-clear to say they could go home.

APRIL 10TH - SOMEWHERE NEAR SEOUL OLYMPIC STADIUM

It was the final day of rehearsals for everyone including Grace. For the idol groups and idol performers, all their rehearsals would take place at the Olympic Stadium and for Grace, they hired Jamsil Arena for her rehearsals. 

There was a large monitor for her to watch everyone do their rehearsals and she could send notes to the director, making points and suggestions as to what she thought. Trying to fit a nearly 13-year career into two hours was a difficult one especially when some of the songs were demanding on idols who might not be used to the high intensity of the dance routines. 

But for the people outside, ARMY were oblivious to what was going on.  

Every day they would crowd around the stadiums, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. Whether it was from Seventeen, Tomorrow X Together, Stray Kids, Enyphen, or even Twice, they were all kept under secrecy. But at least ARMY were allowed to get to the merchandise stalls, food trucks and a megamix of the BTS songs was playing over the speakers and videos were being shown on screens around the area.

 And somehow, they didn’t see Seokjin being driven in. 

“You got this whole place to yourself?” Seokjin asked, amazed even though he wasn’t sure why he was since this whole thing had been a big spectacle of a show. Of course the government had hired a separate arena just for Grace, of course they had hired the best teams, and of course, they had hired the best designers to make costumes. 

“I can keep an eye on everyone’s rehearsals and their timing their performances with my own, so we can keep an eye on the full run time,” Grace explained as she sat down next to her partner who handed her a takeaway cup of tea. 

“Mental,” he shook his head as he watched everyone get the stage ready for the next rehearsal. 

“Still nothing from the boys?” Grace asked, leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder and closing her eyes for a moment.

He snorted and shook his head, taking the cup from her as a just in case. “Namjoon is fully starting to suspect something, he’s been asking questions at the company and Yoongi has been doing his digging around. As far as I’m aware, no one has given away anything. So they're going to be fully surprised tomorrow as long as no one blabs.”

The 8th member of BTS yawned and stretched, her body starting to feel sore with the amount of rehearsals as she was starting to get used to doing the famous BTS routines but in only a matter of days, she’d be back rehearsing for her own tour. This time in Europe, with Paris being the first stop. 

“Grace!”

Seokjin laughed at the sigh that came from the person who the name belonged to. “Go on, you’re needed.”

“You hanging around for a while?” Grace asked, standing up with a reluctant pout.

“I’m here for another hour or so and then I’m heading to the company as we’ve got a meeting about tomorrow. Apparently, we’re being debriefed by the military,” Seokjin raised his eyebrows at that.

“Oh, joys. Well, if I don’t see you in an hour, I’ll see you at home. Need me to pick anything up on the way?” she asked, taking the tea off Seokjin and accepting his kiss on the forehead (they were in public after all.)

“Min-ji wouldn’t mind some snacks and I’m sure you can think of something to get me,” he grinned then gently pushed her towards the stage where the dancers were waiting. “Go on, Grammy award-winning singer.”

Seokjin cackled at the dark look he got in return and settled back in his seat, with Sejin joining him to watch rehearsals for the next hour. ARMY, BTS and the world were going to be blown away by the concert and Grace’s performance, he knew that. To see her perform some of their hardest routines while singing all their lines and without being out of breath - the only person who could pull that off would be Jungkook. 

Tomorrow would be one of her greatest achievements. 

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: This is from about two years ago, from my old account. I know this was requested by someone yet I don't have anything saved for a name besides 'anon' so. There's not much to this but figured I'd post it anyways.

Pairing: Avengers x Widow! Reader

Warnings: Flashbacks, food based and major trust issues, reader self-isolates from everyone, everyone is kinda mean, natasha and yelena nearly kill half the avengers, language, angst, fluff(ish) ending

Words: 1.4k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

Summary: Reader escaped the red room with more than just physical scars. At Fury’s request she joined the Avengers for ‘Rehabilitation’ back into society, which led to an awful prank played on her that caused her to lose all trust with them. She hasn’t met Natasha or Yelena yet as they’ve been away on a deep undercover mission..but once they return and learn what has been going on with the reader and the team, and what it’s making the reader relive through, all hell breaks loose.

~~ “It’s a cinnamon poptart, not the blueberry one, I swear by it.” Thor told me as I held the shiny silver package in my hands, debating on whether or not to open it. I was reminded back to last week, when Clint tried the same thing on me. I glanced back up at the god-and he was giving me the puppy dog eyes.

There was a history of the avengers giving me the wrong food. It started out as a joke that made me physically sick enough to the point where I couldn’t eat for almost a week because of it and turned into a joke for them. Well, it wasn’t a joke for me.

I sighed, glancing at the generic wrapper which didn’t tell me shit about what flavour it was. Looked back at Thor and his puppy dog eyes and decided that maybe it was worth a try.

Of course, when I tear open the package it’s the blueberry one. I stared at it for a good minute or so as Sam and Bucky started losing it at my deadpan facial expression, and I just dropped the poptart on the table and turned on my heel and walked away, trying not to remember what happened and blocking out my brain from trying to kill me again.

Steady walking turned into a fast-paced stride, which turned into a jog, then into a full on sprint. I had no idea where the hell I was going, I was too far into my head to tell beyond me descending the back staircase down several flights of stairs. I kept going down,

Down,

Down,

Until I hit a wall, and realized I was at the very bottom of the tower. I didn’t even know that there even was a bottom to the tower until now…and knowing already that it had almost two dozen floors, and the kitchen was almost at the direct top…

I must’ve ran down at least ten or maybe even fifteen flights…

My head was still spinning as I leaned against the wall, the sweat from my body making my clothes stick to me and my legs started to shake slightly. Being a supersoldier had its benefits when it came to fights and physical activity, but even then it had its limits.

My breathing came hard and fast, and I closed my eyes tightly as I turned around, pressing my back against the cold, solidness of the concrete wall and slid down until I could rest my arms on my knees and sucked in one breath, held it for seven seconds, then slowly breathed out through my mouth for ten. I kept repeating the pattern, six, seven, ten, until everything stopped spinning and I felt less light headed.

~

I don’t know how long I was down there, and only took my head off my arms to answer my phone’s consistent buzzing, alerting me to a call. I slid it from my pocking, wincing at the slight protest of my muscles and the phone screen that was still slightly slick from my sweat. I wiped it off on my pant leg and answered it, not bothering to check the contact info.

“Agent (L/N), please do inform me why you are not present at the meeting right now.” a deep voice which I recognized as Fury’s sounded through the speaker. Shit. Meeting. That must mean…

It was six in the evening-I’d left the kitchen around two-

I have been down here for four hours.

I quickly scrambled up, heading to the elevators and pushed the up button as I told Fury I’d be there in less then ten minutes and ended the call. The elevator shot up to my floor as I sniffed my shirt, smelling the sweat and slight mustyness of the basement on it. My body smelled physically fine, but my clothes reeked. Still need deodorant however.

Once on my floor I quickly threw off my clothes as I rushed into my room, grabbing some of the first clothes I saw and changing into them then heading to the bathroom to look semi-presentable. While sure, it probably wasn’t necessary for me to ‘freshen up’ I didn’t want any comments about my appearance or smell, better yet I didn’t want any mention of me and didn’t know why Fury was bothering me to join the avengers since I wasn’t a ‘main’ member.

I finished getting presentable and glanced at what I was wearing, a pair of grey faded jeans that I tucked a black tshirt into and had pulled on my olive green converse, and right before I left my bedroom I grabbed my green button up jacket and slid it on, hoping it’d pair better with the shoes. Thankfully I left my bow gloves on the small bookcase next to the elevator and decided to get those on a whim as I rushed into the elevator and told FRIDAY to take me to the meeting floor.

I pulled my hair up into a slightly messy bun and called it good, soothing any wrinkles and tucking in my shirt more and just fidgeting with my clothes in general.

The avengers, or at least the ones who I’ve seen since I started living in the tower-Thor, Sam, Bucky, Tony, Steve, Bruce, Peter, and a few others whose names I didn’t bother to remember, I did not trust at all. And that was putting it lightly. Ever since the incident when I first started living here-which was not my choice mind you, Fury told me to live here so here I am-I tried my best in avoiding them at all costs. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck one on one with any one of them…especially the males.

Natasha and her sister, Yelena, have been on a almost eight month mission and I haven’t met them yet, but there was one thing the three of us had in common: The red room.

Memories I’d rather not remember were thankfully interrupted by FRIDAY chiming at me and opening the door of the elevator, and I walked out into the conference / meeting room.

~

“Look what the cat dragged in, finally.” Tony stated as I walked to the meeting table, taking a seat at the end of it. I glanced around noticing two new faces-females, and from the red and yellow hair I guess Natasha and Yelena.

“Took you long enough.” Steve glared at me as I tried to remain indifferent.

I did notice both Yelena and Natasha stiffen when they saw me, and even more so when they saw my slight reaction to their comments. I didn’t bother introducing myself, figuring they probably damn remember who I was.

Of course, I had a different nickname in the room, but those days were long gone.

Fury nodded at me and explained what the two had dug up from their reconnaissance mission, explaining how there was a series of various drug cartels that had access to a substance that not only was highly illegal, but magical in nature.

I turned out during the last half of it, upon hearing Sam and Bucky having their heads together and snickering, occasionally glancing my way. At some point I heard whispers of what would happen if they caught me alone, and at that point I was done-black creeped on the edge of my vision as I rolled the chair back and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten in awhile. Suddenly a loud slam echoed through the room, caused by Natasha slamming her hand on the table, standing up.

“Will you two shut the fuck up before I decide to kill you?”

I stared in shock as she glared at Sam and Bucky, Yelena also standing with her, glaring and had a knife palmed in her hand already.

“You have no fucking idea what it was like for her, for us going through that room and all you’ve been doing is making her fucking miserable. I’ve been getting reports on what you two’ She turned and glanced around the entire team at this ‘on what everyone has been doing to her. You’re lucky I was too deep into the mission or I would’ve come here sooner.” She turned to Fury and he nodded at her, and then spoke up.

“Natasha and Yelena will be taking care of the black listed missions from now on, and they will be taking care of miss (L/N) as well. Upon their wishes, they are no longer a part of this team.”

Both the girls turned to me, Yelena sliding her knife away and Natasha holding out a hand to me.

“Come on, Серебряная Лиса, we’ve got you.”

We’ve got you.

(Silver fox)

[stupittmoran]

In 1992 a man that had no record of violence whatsoever was approached and entrapped by the feds illegally.

After he was sent the wrong court date and failed to show up, his innocent son, dog, and wife (while holding their infant daughter) were all slaughtered because of it.

Randy Weaver and his family lived in an isolated cabin in the mountains of Ruby Ridge, Idaho.

An undercover federal agent targeted him and entrapped him into selling him a sawed-off shotgun.

The agent ingratiated himself to Weaver for weeks. He kept asking Weaver if he would sell him a shotgun. Weaver initially hesitated but finally agreed. Then, the agent asked him if he could saw it off first since he didn't have the tools. Though he warned FBI guy it was illegal to do so, he was nice enough to do it anyway. The agent then also had him drive out of the way across State lines to add charges.

After Weaver was sent the wrong court date and (understandably) failed to show up, the feds used this as permission to do anything and everything they could to take him down.

Marshals called in military aerial reconnaissance and had photos studied by the Defense Mapping Agency. They prowled the woods around Weaver’s cabin with night-vision equipment. They had psychological profiles performed and installed $130,000 worth of long-range solar-powered spy cameras. They intercepted the Weavers’ mail. They even knew the menstrual cycle of Weaver’s teenage daughter, and planned an arrest scenario around it.

On August 21, Marshals outfitted in full camouflage and carrying machine guns trespassed onto the Weavers’ property. Three marshals circled close to the Weaver cabin and threw rocks to provoke the Weavers’ dogs. As Weaver’s 14-year old son, Sammy, and Kevin Harris, a family friend, ran towards the barking, a marshal shot and killed his dog. Sammy Weaver fired in the direction those shots came from. As he was leaving the scene, a marshal shot him in the back and killed him. Harris responded by fatally shooting a federal marshal who had fired seven shots at them.

Snipers from the FBI Hostage Rescue Team were sent in the next day and ordered to shoot to kill any adult male outside the Weaver cabin. Randy Weaver was shot in the back after he stepped out of his cabin. As he struggled to return back inside, they shot and killed Vicki Weaver (his wife), who was standing in the cabin door holding their 10-month old baby.

From the testimony of Randy Weaver: "On August 22, 1992, completely without warning of any kind, an FBI sniper shot and killed my wife, Vicki. He was using a .308 caliber sniper rifle with a specially weighted barrel and a 10-power scope. He was using match grade ammunition. He had years of training to kill. I heard him testify at the trial that he wanted to kill. He shot my wife in the head and killed her. She was not wanted for any crime. There were no warrants for her arrest. At the time she was gunned down, she was helpless. She was standing in the doorway of her home. She was holding the door open for me and Sara and for Kevin Harris. She was holding Elishe a our 10-month-old baby girl, in her arms. As the bullet crashed through her head, she slumped to her knees, holding Elisheba tightly so she would not drop her. We took the baby from her as she lay dead and bleeding on our kitchen floor."

Weaver and Harris, who never fired any shots at FBI agents, surrendered after an 11-day siege.

Thankfully after all of this was said and done, the FBI conducted an "internal investigation" and guess what? They did nothing wrong. SHOCKER.

Randy Weaver and his daughters filed a wrongful death suit for $200 million which was related to the killing of his wife and son. In an out-of-court settlement in August 1995, the federal government awarded Randy Weaver $100,000 and it also awarded $1 million to each of his three daughters.

The government did not admit that it had committed any wrongdoing in relation to the deaths of Sammy and Vicki.

The moral of the story is, if the government wants to kill you, they'll find a way to do it. They are not your friend. They do not have your best interests at heart.

If you are an enemy of the state, if they don't like you, the Constitution seemingly doesn't apply.

These federal agencies (FBI, CIA, ATF, USMS, etc.) Do whatever they want, stay in power indefinitely, and have effectively unlimited funds. Not only should they be defunded, they should be abolished entirely. They do nothing but make us less safe and are wholly incompatible with a free society.

The fact that people want to give the government more power, more control, and take away our means of defense (gun control) is absolutely beyond me. If they could pull this off in the 90's they can do it now. I assure you.

Never give up your guns. Your government will kill you.

Dylan Allman on Twitter/X

[wingdingery]

ohhhh i always have requests! quite fond of lil drabble ideas: bruce teaching dick to dance and (years later when they’re together) they recreating some of their first dances, slade being the one to gift dick his first leather jacket that he still regularly wears, An Event Occurs and in the aftermath dick realizes how irreplaceable he is to bruce and just how much bruce both loves him and needs him, bruce and dick’s undercover aliases that keep getting more and more romantic over the years

In Dick’s experience, returning to his apartment after a week away and finding a mysterious box on the coffee table that was definitely not there when he left is, usually, not actually a big deal.

He’s still careful—the little Batman that lives in the back of his head would never give him a moment of peace if he wasn’t—but he’s just very aware of the fact that, nine times out of ten, the not-so-little Batman is the one breaking in and leaving little treats for him to find later, because Bruce is deathly allergic to seeing people’s reactions to his gifts in real-time.

Dick runs through the standard checks, but nothing sounds or smells off, and nothing pings as suspicious on infrared or the particulate detector. He steps closer to inspect the box. It’s rectangular, all white, and generally unremarkable except for the fact that he didn’t put it there.

Carefully, he lifts the lid. He’s expecting some kind of gear—it wouldn’t be the first time a new suit or toys showed up unannounced.

What he finds is a leather moto jacket.

He gently lifts it out of the box and stares at it, bemused. It’s very nice—genuine Italian leather by the feel of it, black with silver hardware and diagonal pockets in the shape of a V, and just his size. There’s no note of any kind, but when he sniffs the leather, he also gets a whiff of maple and gun oil—and that feels like a signature in and of itself.

Dick pulls out his phone, dials in the number from memory, and sinks into the couch as it rings. 

“Happy birthday,” Slade says when he picks up, voice low and rumbling.

Dick suppresses a smile. “You’re late.”

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

“You really wanna know the answer to that?”

Dick bites the inside of his cheek and fiddles with the zipper of the jacket. They’ve been getting along all right ever since they’d been forced to team up on the cruise ship from hell, but still, a little plausible deniability goes a long way, between them. “How long ‘til I find out on my own?”

“Now that depends,” Slade says, drawing out the words. “You still talking to Rose?”

Dick blinks. “You were visiting Rose?”

“Something like that.”

“She shut the door in your face,” Dick guesses.

Slade grunts. “We can meet not at her apartment.”

“And she’s moving?”

“And she’s moving.” Slade doesn’t sound particularly annoyed about it, but then again, finding people who don’t want to be found is basically his job. Dick makes a mental note to see if Rose wants a hand making her dad’s life harder.

“So why the jacket?” Dick says, running his hand over the leather. It really is nice. He wonders where Slade got it, and whether it was paid for in money or blood. He probably doesn’t want to know.

“You complained I made you ruin yours,” Slade says. “Reckon we’re square now.”

Dick raises his eyebrows, even though Slade can’t see it. “I don’t remember doing that, but if I did, it had to have been, what… seven years ago? At least?”

“I’ve got a long memory.” It sounds vaguely like a threat, in Slade’s voice, but the jacket itself seems far from one, so Dick lets it pass.

“If you’re trying to make up for that,” Dick says, “then you’re really late.”

“You’d’ve thrown it straight in the trash if I ever tried before.”

“I could still do that.”

“You won’t.”

“Well, now I have to.”

Slade scoffs. “Go ahead. Would be a waste of perfectly good leather, though.”

The desire for knowledge wins out. “Where’d you get it?”

“Made it.”

Dick pauses, uncertain he’d heard correctly. When Slade doesn’t elaborate, though, Dick echoes, uncertainly, “Made it?”

“Wintergreen helped some.”

Dick opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Made it?

“Who exactly did you think made my first few costumes?” Slade says, sounding amused. “Not all of us have your daddy’s resources.”

It’s one thing for Slade to have bought him something; Dick can explain that away as just a whim—an act of opportunity, as it were. But Slade spending the time and energy to make it himself?

That’s premeditation.

“This isn’t a birthday gift.”

“I said happy birthday, didn’t I?”

“This isn’t just a birthday gift,” Dick presses.

Slade doesn’t respond, and Dick lets the silence stretch far past the point of discomfort. Still, neither of them hangs up. Slade may be a stubborn asshole, but Dick has been trained in the art of silence-offs by the most frustratingly stoic of them all.

Dick smooths out the collar of the jacket and straightens out the arms while he waits. Now that he’s looking closer, he can tell the seams aren’t the tidy stitches of a lifelong craftsman, but it’s impressive work, all the same. Work that must have taken a hell of a lot of effort. 

Finally, Slade breaks the rhythm of quiet breathing. “Whatever it is,” he says, “it’s yours now. Throw it in the trash if you want. Or don’t. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

It has everything to do with Slade, but the fact that Slade is insisting so hard that it doesn’t is both a little funny and extremely sad. Dick can recognize a fear of rejection when he hears it. 

Dick puts a hand on top of the jacket. “It doesn’t really make sense to give me this,” he says, “if you’re never going to see me wear it.”

Slade is silent for a moment, but not as long as before. “I’ve got time,” he says, slowly, like he’s leaving space for Dick to cut him off between one word and the next. “Two weeks from now.”

“Two weeks,” Dick agrees. “I assume you don’t need the address.”

“Think I’ve got it.” Slade’s voice is dry, but lacking its usual knife-sharp edge. “See you soon, kid.”

He hangs up before Dick can respond. 

Dick smiles anyway. “See you soon.”

----

Footnote: RIP Dick's expensive jacket (this is $300 in 80s money)

[adrixivy]

Headcanon that Peter is the reason if missions go well or not and it all depends if he opened his mouth or not. I’m simply saying that he would somehow run his mouth and villains are on his ass immediately and not because of his parker luck. That does worse things. Peter always gotta say something or he just happened to somehow cause more chaos than it already did when he says something and he doesn’t even mean to say it. And the team either enjoys it or are in a manic state of panic.

The Avengers are on a mission to infiltrate one of the last remaining Hydra bases. And they need to be undercover for this. Like really stealthy and quiet. They want to gather information about the last few bases and what other information are left in Hydra that wasn’t already leaked. So imagine how surprised Tony and Steve is to be walking and then simply watch a body fly past them as said flying body screams. Tony looked over and groans and Steve sighs deeply.

Peter, who was stopped by a giant that didn’t recognize him and asked if he was new in Russian and tried speaking the little Russian Nat taught him and said something entirely different: You’re built like one of those ugly giants in that one show- (he tried to compliment the guy’s huge build to distract him but it was backfired)

Said giant growls and smacked him, making him fly back and hit a wall ten feet away with a groan. And the whole mission is already compromised within 15 minutes. 15!

The two adults rushed to him and helped him up and already three of the Avengers are compromised and soon the Hulk is out smashing through goons, Thor landed right outside the base without a care about stealth and is hitting people with his hammer and thunder crackles in the snowy habitat, making alarms sound off and the whole Avengers are simply compromised.

Peter and Tony is suited up in their nano-tech suit whereas Steve took out his shield that was shrunk and enlarged it with some Pym particles that was gifted to them from Scott. The team was quickly surrounded by all the men in the base and Peter smiled sheepishly at Tony who rolled his eyes. Armed men are charging at them with war cries yet Peter can't help but not stay quiet as his pop culture references came out.

Peter fighting the giant that flung him earlier: Hey big guy, what you did was not nice! I'm not some Roblox ragdoll for you to throw around!

Peter after webbing up the giant and fighting alongside Tony and Steve: Don't you think we're like the four horseman in Now You See me 2? Just that we're seven people! We get compromised but in the end, the odds are in our favor!

Tony, having seen the movie with Peter before and understood the references, couldn't help but grin: I guess kid.

Steve, incredibly confused: The four what now??

Soon, the base was taken over and Natasha and Clint managed to get their objectives and they all return home. And it's an incredibly hilarious experience to them now.

Now imagine, it being entirely opposite. They're in a open battle, full on repulsors shooting beams everywhere, Steve's shield thrown around and knocking out enemies, punches and kicks thrown, arrows flying, thunder cracks loudly in the sky as a hammer flies through mobs. It all seems quite loud to anyone else but the Avengers find it quiet. Too quiet. Like something or someone is missing. And they don't even realise in the midst of it. And the mission even ends well. And Rhodey is here too and he's always the first to realise and Tony's second.

Bruce who oversaw everything that happened in the mission: Today went well!

Steve, genuinely surprised too: Yeah. Surprisingly.

Rhodey, realising something is missing: Surprisingly quiet, you mean. Now I just realised, the whole battle was quiet. Tones, you thinking what I'm thinking.

Tony, hand placed up to stop everyone from talking as if hearing for something and his hand immediately dropped and his eyes are widened in terror when he doesn't hear what he was searching for: Where's the kid.

And the whole Avengers are panicking, everyone immediately dispersed and they're all looking for him.

Imagine Tony's relief when he saw Peter playing with puppies on top of a roof. (Peter saved three puppies and was about to leave them on the roof away from danger and leap back into the battle but the puppies cried out for him and he immediately melted and stayed there the entire time, playing with them as the sounds of destruction did nothing to pull him out of the puppies grasp)

Needless to say, the Avengers returned with three puppies that day.

Inspired by a post from irondadapiderson4ever!

[lokisgoodgirl]

Holy Orders [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A Link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: (17) Loki is working undercover as a priest in Rome. Ecumenical eroticism ensues. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Heresy. Smuttish. Latin. Priest!Loki. Language. (w/c 3.6k)

The door of your holiday apartment slammed behind you, cursing as you stumbled down a tiny step directly onto the cobbled street. It had been three weeks since the travesty of the Renaissance Faire.

After three days, you had accepted that Loki’s attention denial was not a phase. After five, the absence of his irritating teasing had you feeling an unusually bitter disappointment.

After seven, when he had left for Rome without even a courtesy farewell, you had woken in the night wondering the unthinkable. What if Thor was right?

And after twelve, you had begrudgingly accepted that you loved him.

There was a morning buzz in the air, jostling bicycles ringing lightly as the slap of your sandals sounded lightly on the aged stone beneath your feet. You hurried across the street, trying not to be run over by a moped speeding past, blowing up the back of your sundress. Jesus Christ, you thought; heart pounding before your lips curled in a secret smile. Father Laufeyson wouldn’t like that kind of talk, you laughed to yourself as you rounded the corner and Piazza Navona came into view.

For two weeks, Loki had been working undercover in a small church tucked out of the main bustle of Rome. His home had been the same ancient streets you now walked. And you wondered as you passed the marbled carvings of roman gods hanging against the circular fountains, if he had ever thought about you.

Of course not, he’s been busy, you chided yourself, hoisting the bag strap on your shoulder. When Rogers had assigned him this mission, apparently the laughs of the team could be heard two floors below. But as it turned out, Loki could be as convincing as a priest as he could be as a heartless arsehole. Now that his information gathering was complete, you had been sent to collect the evidence. You volunteered, idiot. A seamless pass-over. In and out, Rogers had said. Fuck, should someone have told him it was me that was coming? What if he’s mad?

You turned another corner, skilfully avoiding a group of tourists buried in a map. And what if he’s not? you thought; a thrill of wild anticipation blossoming in your belly.

“The Church of Santa Maria dell'Anima…” you murmured absent-mindedly, looking up at the flat exterior of the sandy coloured stone building.

As far as Roman churches went, it wasn’t a big draw - favoured more by the faithful local residents than photo-happy tourists. Perfect for a Hydra Vatican infiltration ring, you thought, pursing your lips as the eager congregation filed past you up the short flight of steps to the entrance. Swirling a white shawl around your shoulders, you took a deep breath of heavy, heated air.

Morning mass was about to begin.

You slipped inside the ancient wooden doors, a waft of stale coolness tingling over your skin. The breath seemed to evaporate from your lungs as your gaze drew up, eyes scanning over the high marble pillars and bright frescos painted floor to ceiling. Warm orange and gold infused the air, the sting of spiced incense filling your nostrils. The low hum of foreign conversation echoed around the church from people filing between the wooden pews, facing the altar. And there he was.

Loki Laufeyson stood with a long wooden taper clasped gently between his fingers, re-lighting candles by the far side of the carved stone nave. Strands of waxy hair fell around his cheekbones, illuminated by a hundred flickering flames resting in the metal display.

A thick green vestment embroidered with gold hung over his body down to his calves, making him look even taller than he usually did. Pure white shirt sleeves billowed around his arms, swaying gently as he continued his intricate work unphased.

He looked deep in thought, a calm serenity bathing his sharp profile as he blew out the taper and watched the smoke waft aimlessly through speckles of swirling dust. Loki clasped his hands in front of him, flattening the luxurious fabric of his vestment against the washboard stomach you knew lay beneath.

He turned, bowing lightly towards the crucifix hanging above the altar before ascending the several low steps.

Fuuuuck, you thought; pussy suddenly throbbing. Your hand fumbled to the strap of your bag, lowering it and sliding subtly into the back row. A cold shock of wood pressed against the back of your bare knees, making you wince. When did I get so wet, you frowned; knowing exactly when, as Loki turned towards the congregation.

A bell chimed, summoning another priest from the side of the church. You drew the shawl tighter around your chest, feeling your heart thunder against the clench of your fist. A woman slid in beside you, tucking her hair nervously behind her ears before making a sign of the cross.

“Nel nome del Padre, del Figlio e dello Spirito Santo, Amen.” she murmured, running her wide eyes up and down the ridiculously handsome figure opening the large bible, poised behind the altar. You suddenly wondered if morning mass had always been this popular.

The low tinkle of bells echoed again as the service began. The crowd rose, fifty or so of the faithful bowing their heads as the undercover Avenger took centre stage.

He is loving this, you thought incredulously, seeing his arms rise at his sides. The drape of green and gold vestments shimmered in the light, a warm glow radiating upwards to his pale face bathed in morning bronze from the stained glass. The crowd before you sat down obediently on the lowering of his palms. You fumbled backwards, catching yourself on the edge of the long bench.

Loki’s stare ran over the congregation, covertly scanning every face like only his keen gaze could. It stopped on you, making your breath hitch. You thought you saw the tug of a smirk at the side of his lips, a glint in his eye. Or maybe it was the light.

The next twenty minutes passed in a religiously erotic blur, swathes of ceremonial chants in Italian at Loki’s command making your thighs squeeze together. Heresy, you thought; a shudder rolling down your spine as the god leant forward to kiss the gospel. I’d be burnt in the old days.

The second priest had blessedly taken over to give the sermon, the broken words you could understand not even registering as you watched Loki listen rapturously to the side in feigned interest. He knows I’m watching him, you scowled; realising that every casual smooth of his stomach, every clench of his perfect jaw was for you.

How you wanted to storm up the marbled aisle, grab his stupid fancy poncho in a fist and kiss him violently against the golden tabernacle. Might blow his cover, though; you thought, immediately thinking of what else you could blow as he gripped onto the tall candlesticks by the altar.

The vivid fantasy was broken as the congregation shuffled to a stand. The woman beside you adjusted her cleavage, shaking her hair back. Loki raised his hand. “Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum.” he said, the practised words of prayer a chant - that velvet voice sinking through the heavy air like double cream. Even speaking in Latin, it was irresistible.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be your name

Your hips shuddered back against the wooden pew, bare skin of your thighs dragging against the grain. You recognised the tempo. How could you not.

“Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra.” Loki spoke slowly, eye-fucking you menacingly from the top of the raised steps behind the lecturn. His lips hovered on ‘tuum’, a fizz of unstoppable need rising in your belly as you recalled its place in the prayer.

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on Earth, as it is in heaven.

Dozens of voices chimed around you, their Italian lilt making the dead language sing. But it was only his earthen tones you heard. Only him.

It had always, only been him.

“Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut, et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris” he rumbled in baritone, tilting his head.

Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, As we forgive those who trespass against us

You raised your gaze to meet his, knowing it would be waiting as he stood with his large hands encasing the sides of the lectern by the altar. His eyes narrowed briefly, the subtle slant of his brows betraying his utter bemusement at your presence.

“Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo.” he growled, the timbre of his voice making the woman beside you straighten. You could see her fingertips digging into the soft flesh between her knuckles, hands clasped in prayer.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

How appropriate, you mused. You watched as Loki slid the bible from its place, holding it briefly aloft and placing a kiss against the leather before lowering it to his crotch in a gentle hold.

“Amen.” he murmured, solemnly; lowering his chin.

“Amen.” came the ringing response. “Amen.” you echoed slowly, squinting thoughtfully as Loki turned and sat with a smirk.

You sat back down, questioning everything. Did you think that when he saw you it would have been any different from how it ever was? That he would somehow wordlessly communicate that he was pleased to see you? That he had missed you? That he loves me too, you scoffed painfully; flinching as the organ sprang to life.

The communion procession began with those at the front of the church, each person pausing in front of the priest to receive god’s bounty. Loki and his counterpart held the small, circular host aloft, their lips moving before placing it on the recipients tongue. Kinky, you thought; before realising the woman to your right had risen and joined the slow moving queue. Fuck.

You shuffled behind her, rolling your eyes as she fiddled nervously with her hair, smoothing and re-smoothing the same strands. Your gaze wandered to the ornate figure of Christ hanging on the cross above the altar, his limp form getting closer and closer. Don’t look at me like that, you huffed to the disappointed looking Jesus; immediately switching focus to the floor beneath your feet.

“Corpo di Cristo…” a dark voice murmured. It was tinged with weighty intentions, thick memories of feral moans of unrestrained passion in your ear flooding your mind as you fluttered your lashes upwards. Loki’s eyes betrayed none of your history, his stare glazed; the twitch of one dark eyebrow the only indicator that he ever knew you at all.

“Amen.” you whispered hoarsely, parting your lips.

He placed the host gently on your outstretched tongue. Against your better judgement, you felt your lids flicker shut, the soft graze of his fingertip smoothing against wet muscle that longed for his touch.

It lingered, the melt of the wafer beginning to slide down your throat. His wide fingertip pulled imperceptibly at your bottom lip on its withdrawal, making your eyes shoot open. Loki’s brows raised, a light furrow reminding you that there was an entire congregation at your back. You gave a small nod towards him, scurrying around the front pews and back to your seat.

You could feel the burning heat in your cheeks for the rest of the mass, ten minutes feeling like an endless vat of time. The final blessing was, in reality, swift. A few chimes, swings of incense and murmurs of reverent praise and it was done.

Loki disappeared in procession with the other priest behind a door at the back of the church in a sway of luxurious, billowing green. The stillness of the holy space washed over you as attendees left in their own time. You checked your watch. Forty-five minutes. Had that been all?

The clap of your sandals against the marble floor echoed as you walked slowly around the walls, drawn to the beauty of the figures drawn by those long dead. You traced your fingers over cracks in the face of a rather grim looking Virgin Mary. “I know how you feel…” you whispered to no-one, feeling the plaster catch beneath delicate skin.

“I very much do not think you know how she feels.”

Your hand paused on the fresco, falling to your side as you turned. Loki stood resplendent before you, the folds of his holy garment making him look more achingly irresistible than he ever had before. You felt a frown crease your forehead, pursing your lips to stop a moan. It was worse up close.

Loki leant forward, casting a conspiratorial glance towards a small group of locals loitering by the door. “-due to the fact that for one thing, she is a virgin, while you...Agent...” he smirked. Your frown deepened.

“Keep your voice down.” you hushed, glancing over your shoulder. Satisfied, you looked back to Loki, his obsidian hair curled behind delicate ears revealing the white flash of his clerical collar. The bone structure you knew so well against the curves of your body sang in the mid-morning light through the windows, every iridescent inch of his skin glowing with tantalising radiance.

“I see you still managed to wear green.” you scoffed under your breath, making the priest chuckle lightly. “It’s Ordinary Time in the church calendar, Agent. Did you not read the briefing documents? It is the standard colour for the season” he drawled quietly, giving a reverent nod to his fellow priest heading for the door and the beckon of Rome beyond.

“They really think you’re one of them?” you said, turning towards a row of candles flickering to the side. Each one represented someone loved and lost, a prayer. A hope.

“Of course." he scoffed. "Father John Lockhart on pilgrimage from England. Why would they suspect?”

You ran your eyes down the silk embroidered vestment which hid his intensely muscular body. Just. The bulge of his biceps shifted beneath the billowing sleeves making your gaze hover. “Priests aren’t usually so…”

“Yes?” he goaded, raising an eyebrow in amusement. You dropped a coin in the basket, taking a candle and fingering the wick. “You don’t seem like the type, that’s all. I’m surprised you didn’t shapeshift.”

Loki chuckled. “My dear, you clearly don’t know Catholicism. A web of mysteries and contradictions which go far beyond their lore-bound texts...” he said, shifting so you stood with biceps pressing against each other.

“Are you considering a change of vocation then?” you quipped, playing with the wick between your fingers. He faced the wall of candles, but you could feel the stare of his eyes roaming the sliver of skin beneath the parted shawl. “Not quite.” he muttered absent-mindedly. “The reverence and theatrics are appealing I grant you, but there is far too much celibacy for my liking.”

The ghost of his breath skated across your collarbone, the unbearably small distance between you making every nerve in your body vibrate with desire.

“What are you praying for, mio figlio?” he murmured innocently under his breath as the wick of your candle caught flame from another. My child, you thought with a grimace, recognising the taboo of unmistakeable arousal deep in your pussy.

You watched the tear-dropped fire settle from its first rage, flickering gently as it came to terms with its place in the world. Setting it down amongst the others, you turned your chin to look up at him. The blues of Loki’s irises swam with green in the shadowed alcove, the dance of the candlelight illuminating him like a bygone Saint.

“Salvation.” you whispered quietly, voice catching.

Without knowing why, you bowed your head. The god’s fingers flew gently beneath your chin, tilting it upwards once more. His eyes were wide, lips parted as he inhaled softly. “Darling, I-”

“Padre?” a voice muttered tentatively behind you.

You and Loki both turned, seeing the fidgeting figure of the woman who had been your unknowing lust-buddy all through the service.

“Sì, figlia mia?” Loki replied gently, his hands disappearing back into the draped sleeves of his robes as he clasped them together. You rolled your eyes, pivoting back towards the wall of tealit flames. The thunder of your heart was a solid beat in your ears, pounding. His smooth voice rumbled in Italian, the sweet ministrations of his undercover persona clearly honed over the past two weeks. “Grazie Padre…” you heard the woman say, a tremble in her voice; before quick footsteps echoed away from you.

Loki chuckled, resuming his position by your side. “Impure thoughts about an inappropriate figure, apparently.” he whispered, barely contained glee bursting from the confines of propriety. “Wishes to make a confession to me personally at the next session. Imagine that. I wonder who it could be.”

“You are impossible." you sighed, a wave of jealousy roaring in your belly. "I bet you’ve been very popular here in that regard.” you said through gritted teeth, trying to focus on the wavering light of your candle. Salvation.

“Always so quick to judge.” he chuckled, drawing himself stoically upwards. “My dear, I am a priest.” he said, turning to face you. His nose was inches from your forehead, the empty church feeling stifling as the air settled around you both. “I have been a beacon of chastity...and contrary to popular belief, I do take my assignments seriously.”

Slowly, you met his gaze – the sincerity in his face, unmistakeable. “I didn’t think you took anything seriously, Father.” you said, mockingly; unable to stop yourself as you watched his eyes narrow at the words.

“Don’t you mean Daddy, Agent?” he smouldered, “Or am I nothing but a memory to you now with my brief absence?”

In two quick steps from his impossibly long legs, your back was flush against the nearest wall. The curve of the low archway hung dangerously close to Loki’s full height as he loomed above you. His forearm pressed to the marble cornicing above your head, trapping you like a lamb for slaughter.

A long sleeve of forest green shielded you from the gaze of a dozen judgemental statues, the collar around his neck straining against the weight of a hard vein that bulged ominously. “Why must you always think the worst of me?” he growled, the primal sound rumbling deep in his throat hoarse and wild. Familiar burning lust bubbled uncontrollably to the surface in those beautifully dangerous eyes as his chest heaved, daring you to respond.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you said, flustered as the shawl fell around your shoulders to the floor. Loki stepped closer, fingertips of the hand not affixed above your head squeezing into the flesh of your bare bicep.

“I think you know very well.” he spat, all traces of serenity gone as he blazed beneath a façade of restraint. “Why are you here? To taunt me? To parade yourself in front of me while you tease me with your endless games? Anyone else could have taken your place. Anyone.”

Your frown deepened, a deep ache blossoming in your belly as you tasted the rage on his every word. You shouldn’t have come.

“-Or am I wrong? Have you come to confess to me, darling?” he hummed goadingly, the feeling of his tips running down your aching skin making your shiver.

Sarcasm bit through his words, slicing through the intimacy of the moment. “And what better place? What better persona? Are you ready to admit your undying love for me and put this charade to an end? Or have your attentions wandered...”

A staggered breath surged in your throat as his hand traced down your cleavage, feeling your resistance falter. You could feel the swell of his hard erection through the drape of holy garb, the violence of his lust boiling beneath the shroud of theatrical consecration. The words were on the tip of your tongue- But then the game will be over for him. He will have won, you thought with a chill; And what then?

Loki’s brow furrowed, a jolt of his jaw taking you by surprise – like shaking off a fly. Whatever was in your head, he clearly didn’t want to hear it.

“And what about you…?” you managed to quiver through shaky breaths, your hands sliding tentatively over his shoulders. Loki tilted his head, confusion etched across his brow. In a brief second, you saw his bravado falter, features softening as he processed the possible meanings of your request. His tongue darted out, licking quickly over his cupid’s bow before biting his lip.

He shook his head, a solitary gasp of forced laughter gusting against your parted lips.

“I have just recalled I seem to owe you a certain...something, do I not?” he said casually, skating over his previous barbs as he tried to change the subject. You shuffled against the wall, attempting to pull him closer to you and failing. “More than one, actually.” you muttered, feeling the wet slick between your thighs grow hot. It was embarrassing how much you needed him. Above everything else, it was him.

“More than one?” Loki purred disapprovingly, tsk’ing as he raised an eyebrow. His hips dragged up your pelvis, every forbidden inch of his solid cock making you mad with need. You began to pant, as he thrust once against your torso. Creases had formed at the corner of his eyes; his outburst it seemed...forgotten.

He released the forearm from the wall above your head, a theatrical flourish of his arm making the heavy metal bolt across the doors of the church slam shut with an almighty clang.

“Here?” you gasped, feeling the embroidery of his sacred vestment scratch against your cleavage as he pressed his muscular torso against you. “But what about...you know.” You tilted your chin upwards towards the crucifix in explanation, the majesty of the surroundings somehow making you forget to whom you were pinned against.

“Don’t worry about Him, Agent…” Loki whispered, before his lips wrapped around your earlobe, sucking gently. “Mine are the only Holy Orders you shall be following today. Mine, the only sacrament your body desperately needs.” His dirty whispers hummed against your skin, falling deeper into waves of sin with each dark syllable. "Mine." he rasped quietly, the word melting against your breathy moans unheard, before fastening his lips to yours in a desperate kiss.

Continued in Holy Orders: Mercy Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection

Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @loopsisloops @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @k-writer17 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @joyful-enchantress

[axkirak]

Down The Road (F1 x Reader) SMAU Season 1

>> Down The Road 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

➡  Previous Part : Next Part

Taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @jpg3 , @tsukishimawhore , @minkyungseokie , @roseseraj , @bbhyuneee , @omgsuperstarg (If you want to be added in this fic, just tell me in reply )

A/N : I'm trying to write in time for the #QatarGP because I want the storyline in Part 2 to continue in real-time (spoiler alert: from Episode 3 onwards, there will be a one-year time skip). I hope you enjoy the racing and the fic too. If you do, don't forget to like and reblog. It's great encouragement for me, who has been sitting with a sore back at the computer for hours to write this SMAU fic

note ; age-gap, a bit of mentor/student relationship

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Season 1 : ── 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐬 ── (Lewis Hamilton x Reader) S1 : E02 𝐾-𝑝𝑜𝑝 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟

Beyond the thrilling competition on the F1 track, the off-track relationships of F1 drivers have also become an exciting topic for fans. That's precisely what's happening with Y/N, a rising star in motorsport, whose relationship with Lewis Hamilton, a seven-time World Champion, is being closely watched. Is it real, or is it just a theory from fans? It's a tough question to answer definitively, as only they can shed light on the situation.

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Source : GQ Sports (On YouTube)

On this episode of "Actually Me" Formula 1 driver Y/N goes undercover on the internet and responds to real comments from fans on Twitter, Instagram, Wikipedia, Reddit, YouTube, and TikTok. How does it feel to be the only woman racing in Formula 1 today? How does she handle the pressure of competing in a male-dominated sport? Which driver is she closest to? And the most pressing question everyone wants to know : What is the true nature of her relationship with Lewis Hamilton? Are they friends, colleagues, competitors, or something more?

For this final question, she simply laughs and replies cryptically, “You guys should ask him (rather than asking me), because I’m curious too.”

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Source : Formula 1: Drive to Survive (On Netflix)

In the show “Formula 1: Drive to Survive” Lewis Hamilton finally opens up about his relationship with Y/N for the first time after it became a hot topic on Twitter world recently. Hamilton said “It’s hard to explain, but we have a very special bond because we’ve known each other for a long time,” He further defined her as the ‘special one’ in his life, yet he still remained enigmatic regarding whether their relationship contains romantic aspect or not.

Additionally, he delves into their personal closeness, mentioning that Y/N is very much a Gen Z personified, enjoying Twitter and often sending funny memes to everyone. He humorously reveals that she sometimes replies to him "OK Boomer," when he doesn't quite grasp the memes she sends.

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Source : Lewis Hamilton's Instagram Story (update)

Lewis Hamilton posted a picture of himself wearing friendship bracelets and tagging @Y/N on Instagram Story before deleting it 11 minutes after

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Source : Twitter (update)

Rumors about a romantic relationship between Y/N and Lewis Hamilton started circulating after a Twitter exchange between the two, leading fans to speculate and gather evidence suggesting they might be dating.

This wave of speculation has received both positive and negative reactions from fans. Some fans disagree with the dating rumors, while others support them. drawing parallels to the F1 version of Tom Holland and Zendaya

While the rumors have been hot topics among F1 fans on Twitter, there has been no confirmation from either Y/N or Hamilton.

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Source : Y/N’s instagram (update)

"Get in, loser We're going to do hotlap"

Y/N posted on Instagram that she will be doing a hot lap for the team's VIP guest in #QatarGP There's speculation that the guest might be a fellow racing driver like Alex, Albon, or George Russell, especially after she previously did a hot lap with Russell without any sign of Lewis Hamilton

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Source : Lewis Hamilton's instagram (update)

"Ready to go with the winner @Y/N"

Lewis Hamilton posted on Instagram, confirming that he is the VIP guest who will get a hot lap with Y/N. Followed by a massive response from fellow F1 drivers and fans who are closely watching their relationship.

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Source : Y/N and Lewis Hamilton's instagram (update)

Y/N and Lewis Hamilton have arrived at the Lusail International Circuit to prepare for the #QatarGP race tonight. The media has been informed by their respective teams that there will be no interviews or comments regarding the rumors about them. They will solely focus on their performance in this race.

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Source : @PopBase

Reportedly the famous spanish singer Úrsula attended the Formula 1 race at #QatarGP amidst fresh rumors among fans that she might be rekindling her relationship with Y/N. This comes after her recent divorce from the Hollywood actor last month.

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𝙏𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙙 (in the next chapter)

If you like it, don't forget to like and reblog for me.

Cr.https://x.com/PopBase/status/1708629114025116047?s=20https://twitter.com/GridRivalhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b025AznQiGk&ab_channel=GQSportshttps://www.instagram.com/p/CyBimW-Ocyr/

[lunarriviera]

look who made the front page of MDL y'all

Chinese mystery thriller 'Under the Skin Season 2' announces premiere date

by Lily Alice, December 5, 2024

Under the Skin Season 2 has confirmed its release date for December 10. 

Under the Skin is a mystery thriller that tells the story of Shen Yi (Tan Jian Ci), a portraitist, and Du Cheng (Jin Shi Jia), a captain in the criminal investigation team, forced to work as partners to solve a series of bizarre and mysterious cases. 

The second season will continue to build on the core theme of the first season, "Revealing truths through colors, portraying the depths of the human heart." Through the outline of the portraits, it delves into the complexities of human nature. The Beijiang squad, composed of the portraitist Shen Yi, criminal investigation team captain Du Cheng, and others, will persist in unraveling the enigmas of human nature and pursuing the culprits behind the cases.

Tan Jian Ci plays Shen Yi, a young painter who resigned from his teaching position at an art academy and unexpectedly joined the Haicheng [sic] Public Security Bureau. Seven years ago, while still a student sketching on the streets, a stranger approached him with a photograph of a child, requesting him to create an image of what the child might look like as an adult. This drawing, however, inadvertently led to the exposure of undercover officer Lei Yifei's identity, resulting in Lei's tragic death. Five [sic] years later, burdened by a heavy sense of guilt, Shen Yi decided to uncover the truth. He accepted an invitation from Chief Zhang of the Public Security Bureau and became a portraitist for the criminal investigation team. Shen Yi's bromance with Du Cheng is one of the drama's highlights. 

Jin Shi Jia plays Du Cheng, the captain of the Beijiang Police Criminal Investigation Team. A decisive and relentless leader, he often operates unpredictably and spares no effort in solving cases, regardless of the cost.

Baby Zhang plays He Rong Yue, a forensic specialist in the Beijiang Police Criminal Investigation Team.

A courageous, meticulous, and highly skilled forensic expert, she is known for her integrity and boldness. During investigations, she often uncovers subtle truths that others might overlook. Her keen observations and expertise have helped Du Cheng and Shen Yi discover crucial details and solve numerous complex cases.

Her in-depth understanding of human anatomy has significantly contributed to cracking difficult cases. She holds great admiration for Shen Yi and, during their work together, often glances at him intentionally or unintentionally while handling cases.

Zhu Jia Qi plays Jiang Feng, a member of the Beijiang Police Criminal Investigation Team.

A junior team member and loyal follower of Du Cheng, he is straightforward and outspoken. Although he means no harm, his honest comments often lead to misunderstandings. Despite this, he is immensely loyal and is one of Du Cheng's most trusted subordinates.

He harbors feelings for his colleague Li Han, but in her eyes, he is nothing more than a coworker.

Qin Hai Lu plays Chief Zhang of the Beijiang Police Department.

A kind and approachable leader, she balances the sense of duty inherent to a police officer with the amiability of a good leader, while also commanding the authority expected of her. Recognizing Shen Yi's exceptional talent in sketching, she brought him into the department to assist the police in solving cases with his unique skills.

Fang Zi Bin plays Yan Tan Sheng, a detective in the Beijiang Police Criminal Investigation Team. He is highly professional, meticulous, and deeply committed to justice. Always willing to lend a hand, he supports newcomers to the team with his guidance. 

Under the Skin Season 2 will premiere on December 10. The C-drama will be available to stream on iQIYI and TencentVideo. Watch the trailer here.

[adding in Li Han played by Lu Yanqi bc they forgot my babygirl]

[lizzyk137]

Baby's First Undercover Op- Agent Gibbs (Gibbs X Reader)

Description: Gibbs and you go undercover to catch a criminal, only for it to get a bit steamy with Gibbs protecting you. Warnings: Mentions of- sex, trafficking, shootings, death, inappropriate touching, assault. Please do not read if anything that was mentioned above may or could be triggering!! Smut with some light kissing.

(Part 2) Want to read more. visit my Masterlist!

Gibbs reached around as he tried to grab the strap of his sling. He turned around in a circle a few times, frustrated that his hand was just out of reach. You sat at your desk watching him amused as he fumbled around.

"You won't like what I do if I catch you laughing, Y/LN." He called as he finally caught his strap, his back turned to you.

You quickly wiped the smirk off your face as he turned around and you looked at him attentively.

"What do we got?" He asked, looking at you as he strapped his sling together.

You stood up and clicked a button on the remote, the TV flashing up to your victims face. "Well, boss, it seems that our victim was part of a gentleman's club called Tate's, which sells services to politicians, head of agency departments, along with a lengthy list of millionaires. We got in touch with Emmerson. Even though he's been out of the club for a decade, he is still friends with a few people on the inside. He says there is a function this weekend where the rumored service is little girls."

"Looks like we'll be going undercover, boss?" McGee asked.

Gibbs nodded, "Not we, McGee, just me." He took a sip of his coffee as the team looked at him and then down to his arm in the sling.

"Um, wouldn't it be better to send Tony or myself in?" Ziva questioned.

"Nope."

"Why's that, boss?" When Tony got no reply, he asked another question. "With you injured, wouldn't it be easier to send someone else in just in case something happens, though I know you would be more than fine defending yourself if anything happened." Tony droned when he caught Gibbs raising his eyebrows after Tony brought up his injury.

Gibbs chuckled and then started walking away. "Y/LN, find Abby to get some IDs for this weekend."

"IDs? I thought it was just you?" You asked puzzled.

He turned around, still walking. "Yep. Need one for you and I. Ya know, since I'm injured." He waved his injured arm and then turned back around, heading to the elevator.

"Well, well, well, it looks like our baby is going to be going undercover for the first time." Tony said, looking at you with a smile. You were the baby of the team, so everyone had started calling you baby, even Gibbs.

"Yeah, but with Gibbs." McGee said, Tony's smile changing into a frown.

"Oh god, this will be interesting."

-------------------------- ~~ ----------------------------

You pulled the red satin dress down over your body, the smooth, cool fabric giving you slight goosebumps. Pushing your slightly curled hair to the side, you put on your earrings and then headed out the door back to your office chair to grab your bag and coat.

"Whoa..." You heard as you made your way to your desk. You looked up to find the team staring at you.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." Tony says.

"It's just that you look really good." Ziva said, giving you a small grin.

You looked down at your outfit. Red laced heels, red satin off the shoulder dress with a slit up the side exposing your right leg almost to your hip accessorized with a silver necklace and chunky hoop earrings that were GPS trackers that Abby gave you. You had slightly curled your hair that was waved over one shoulder.

"Let's get rolling." Gibbs called out as he brushed past you in an all black tux -no sling.

You quickly grabbed your bag and ran to the elevator. It was quiet as the elevator made its way down until Gibbs flipped the emergency off switch, haulting the elevator.

"Gibbs?"

"Name." His back still to you.

"Leslie Givens. Twenty-seven years old. Graduated from Clarkson University, majored in fashion. Own my own business down in Norfolk. Married for two years."

"Good, good." Flipping the switch, the elevator hummed alive again, and you eventually made your way out of the agency and into the car.

After a half hour of driving, you arrived at the venue to see multiple couples walking through the door. You took a shaky breath and went to head out when the door locked. You turned around to look at Gibbs questioningly. "Um, you're missing something." He pulled out a small box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a diamond bracelet.

Pulling it out, he locked it around your wrist. You stared down at it in shock when he cupped your face and pulled it towards him. Pushing your hair slightly to the side, he put his lips close to your ear. "Someone's watching us already." He put a finger in your ear, and you felt an ear comm slide in gently. He patted down your hair and gave you a small wink.

He opened the car door and headed over to your side to open yours. He grabbed your hand and helped you out, closing the door behind him.

You headed inside after you gave your keys to the valet and got in line with the bouncer at the front checking in names. You quickly reached the front, Gibbs putting his hand on the small of your back. "Tom Givens with Leslie Givens."

After the bouncer approves you through, Gibbs pulled you closer to him as you walked through the doors. He nodded to the bar, and you smiled as he walked over to grab a drink. You walked around the room smiling as you surveyed for anyone out of place. "Don't you look ravishing tonight." A gentleman said as you passed his table. He got up from his seat, blocking your path.

Before you could say anything, you felt a strong pair of arms circle your waist. "Doesn't she?" Gibbs voice rang out. "I'm one lucky guy, huh?" You looked up to find him smirking at the gentleman.

"Oh very. The name is Tate. I don't think we've met before." Tate reached out his hand to shake Gibbs.

"Tom Givens. This is my wife Leslie. We just moved into town. Donald Blaire is our neighbor and invited us."

"Ah, Donald! Great guy! Well, I better make sure that everything is going well since we're about to start. Find a seat and grab something to eat. Excuse me." Tate smiled brightly and shook Gibbs' hand again and gave you a wink.

Gibbs slid his hand down to yours and pulled your towards an isolated table. "Tate's our guy." He whispered as he pulled out your chair. You nodded, smiling, and took a sip of your water.

The beginning of the auction went by normally. Jewelry, cars, art, and property were the normal items up for sale.

You noticed Tate getting up out of his seat, making his way towards your table. You quickly leaned over to Gibbs and wrapped your arms around his neck, and connected your lips to his. He was shocked only for a second as his hands roamed up your body, feeling you up and kissing you back with passion. You opened your eyes as Tate passed, eyes locking, and you winked at him. He stopped for a second, smirked, and then nodded his head towards a small service door that was near the table.

A few minutes after he left, you winked at Gibbs and made your way down the hallway that the service door opened to. You tapped on your necklace to turn on the hidden camera built in, letting the team see access into the hallway.

"We're up." You heard McGee say.

"What a kiss, Y/N. Gibbs' camera gave quite a show." You heard Tony snicker in the background, and then a small slap that you figured was from Ziva.

You rolled your eyes till you made it to the end of the hallway, where it opened up to a small office. Posing seductively against the door frame, Tate smiled up at you when he noticed your presence.

He groaned when he saw you flash a bit of your lace panties, and then you made your way over to him. Your arms made their way to his chest from the back and rubbed. "I heard from Chelsie Blaire that you definitely make these nights fun." You said, lying seductively. He pushed his chair facing towards you, and you climbed on his lap, slightly grinding your pelvis against his.

You kissed and nipped his neck, allowing his disgusting hands to roam your body and pulling your dress up for you to sit more comfortably on him as he undid his zipper. "Oh baby." He muttered as you gripped his hair.

"I heard that there is something big being auctioned tonight. Is it something worth my husband's money?" You asked as you tugged his hair, making him gasp.

"Mmm, nothing I'd know of. I just help set up the venue and clients." He mutters against your skin.

"Oh?" You asked. "Well, that doesn't help me." You kneeled him in the groin and then in the head as he doubled over. Grabbing the fluffy handcuffs that were in his top desk drawer, you cuffed him to the metal pole on the wall, duct taped his mouth with what you found in his desk and made your way back down the hallway. Exiting through the service door quietly, you made your way back to your seat.

"He knows nothing. Took him out of the equation." You signed to Gibbs making him raise his eyebrows when you suddenly signed.

"Let's make our way through the back hallway." He signed back. You headed out of the venue room, and he pulled you towards him as he kissed your face and down your neck, leading you down the main hallway towards the back hallway.

Knocking into a table, Gibbs laughed as your lips disconnected. "Sorry," he called to a few employees that looked over. "I just need somewhere a little bit more private." He picked you up over his shoulder, and you flirtatiously laughed.

He walked you both down the hallway, laughing like he was a teenager in love and not hunting down a human trafficker who was also a murderer. He gently set you down and quietly walked down the hallway to a door that was slightly opened. You heard footsteps coming towards you from the room, and Gibbs swung around to push you against the wall.

He lifted you up slightly, trapping you, and you wrapped your opened leg around, him pulling him closer. He put his arm up your dress as he played with the string of your thong, and his other hand pulled down your dress slightly, exposing the top of your breast. His lips attached to yours as he grinded his hips into your hot mound, making you moan out loud against his lips as your hands pulled off his tie as you started to unbutton his shirt.

You heard a throat clear, and Gibbs pulled away and looked back to find two gentlemen staring at you, guns pointed. "What are you doing here?" One asked.

Gibbs moved his hand across your underwear line, lightly brushing over your wet clothed folds. He touched the other side of your thigh where you carried your extra gun. Your hand that was in his shirt found its way to the hidden gun in his coat.

"I asked what are you doing here." The man said.

Gibbs looked at you, then back at the men laughing. "Well, I'm just trying to find a quiet place to fuck my wife." He replied, your face turning bright red.

"Get off her and hands up. You're not supposed to be back here." The other man said, coming closer as he aimed his gun towards you.

"Yeah," Gibbs chuckled, "I don't think so." He unattached the gun from your thigh and pointed it at the man coming closer to you. A shot rang out near your head, and Gibbs pulled the trigger, taking down the man who shot as you swung the gun out of Gibbs jacket and took out the other man coming towards you, gun aimed now at Gibbs.

Setting you down on the ground and pulled up the top of your dress. "I want you guys blocking all exits and pulling everyone inside custody." He spoke into his ear comm as you both made your way into the darkened room.

You surveyed the room when you heard a grunt and something heavy drop to the ground. Quickly turning around, you saw Gibbs on the ground knocked out when you felt hands wrap around your throat from behind, their grip tightening as your gun fell to the ground. You could feel your breathing being cut off, and you took a deep breath as much as you could and then jabbed your elbow into the side of your attacker. With your other elbow, you swung it back into their diaphragm, then slammed the back of your head into your attackers face, feeling and hearing the crunch of your attackers nose connect against the back of your head.

You dived to the ground, sliding as you turned onto your back as you hoisted your gun at the attacker who was lunging at you. You lifted your leg, pushing him away from you as your hands shook in fear when you saw it was Agent Proctor, the same man who took you out to dinner the night before.

The sweet and caring guy you knew had a dark and hateful look in his eyes.

He screamed in rage as he reached for you, knocking the gun from your hands, and you watched it slide across the floor, desperately trying to move towards it. He pinned you down under him as he let out a rage filled laugh.

He held his forearm on your throat and his leg holding yours down. His hand reached for the top of your dress and exposed your chest, staring at it like a rabid animal as he kissed it. Proctor slid his hands down to the slit on your dress and reached for your underwear, and you screamed out as best as you could being choked as his fingers touched the hem of it. His fingers slid under your panties, slightly touching you, tears streaming down your face.

Suddenly, his face turned blank as a shot rang out, and his body went limp falling onto yours, and you screamed out, pushing him off of you as you crawled back into a strong pair of arms.

"Shush, you're okay now." Gibbs whispered as he rocked you back and forth. "No one will harm my baby again."

Tony and Ziva barged through the door, guns drawn to find you crying as you clung onto Gibbs.

He gently lifted you up and carried you out.

-------------------------- ~~ ----------------------------

It's been a few weeks since your undercover op, and your paperwork was being processed by the director. You had been on edge because of it, not trusting in your fellow agents, jumping at any little sound.

The team was worried about you. You had been quiet on cases, not wanting to go out to team functions. You wouldn't even go to your favourite café/bookstore with Ziva. Abby tried to get you out with her for bowling, a usual once a week destressor that you guys did.

"Y/LN, follow." Gibbs called out as his made his way to the elevator. You followed him from your desk and hopped into the elevator.

As soon as the door closed, he hit the emergency off switch and turned to look at you.

"You know, we only have one elevator in this part of the building." You said, knowing why he called you down. You nodded to his arm and laughed. "It looks like your arm has healed up pretty well, I know my weight probably didn't make it feel any better."

He just continued to stare at you.

"I know why you called me down here. I'm fine, Gibbs. I'm talking with a professional, just like the agency wants me to. I'm okay. Shook up, but okay, and with time, I will be." You crossed your arms, giving him a sad smile.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he came up to you, hesitated, and then wrapped his arms around you. You stayed like that for a few minutes before you unfolded your arms and hugged him back.

"You're the team's baby. We want to take care of you. You can always come to us if needed." Gibbs finally spoke.

You nodded, then spoke. "Thank you, I definitely will."

He took a step back and kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him, mid kiss, and he pulled back to look you in the eyes.

Gibbs looked down at your lips and licked his own, then took a step back and turned to flick the emergency off switch.

You reached out your hand and stopped him. "Gibbs..." He turned around and looked at you with a slight longing look in his eyes. You licked your lips and locked eyes with him.

It was quick, too quick to know who moved first, but you were soon wrapped up in each other's arms, lips locked in a fiery, passionate kiss.

You didn't want anyone to touch you for the past couple of weeks, but Gibbs, here now, you craved it. You want his hands everywhere, even though it was a breach of protocol, and you knew he would never want anything serious with a colleague, you still had some small amount of hope that this kiss and those touches he gave during your op, even though it was all fake, could continue.

After a few minutes, both of you pulled away to breathe, and he rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip. You instinctively opened your mouth and licked his thumb. He smirked at the thought of you placing your tongue elsewhere.

You stayed like that for a little bit before he flipped the switch and the elevator doors opened, and he walked out coolly, like nothing happened.

You leaned against the back of the elevator, willing your body to pull itself together. You tugged your clothes back into place and smoothed your hair and walked out of the elevator, and went back to your desk, catching Gibbs eyes undress you as you got within his eye sight.

You sat down and stared at him above your computer screen, his phone ringing in the background as he winked at you with a small smile playing on his lips. He picked up his phone and did his usual answering response.

He shut his flip phone. He had kept his even into the digital age of smartphones. "Gear up, we got a dead Marine at Coolidge Park." He said as he started grabbing his stuff. You all headed to the elevator, Gibbs, and yourself at the back of the elevator.

You looked at him as you pushed your backpack up higher on your shoulder. He smiled and signed, 'Dinner tonight. My place. That kiss was only the beginning.'

You smiled back in response as your hand found its way to his, and you gave it a light squeeze as the elevator door dinged open. Gibbs quickly brought your hand up to his lips, giving it a small kiss before you both let your hands go as you followed the team out.

Hoped you liked this! I kind of want to make a part two of this? I don't know, I'm in the mood to figure out what Agent Gibbs would do on a date, but I'm also content with how this ended to? Idk, if any of ya'll have any ideas, let me know! I would love to do requests one day! :) Okie, byeeeeeeeeee