#but then i was traded to your team a few years later. and now i can't stop manhandling you mid-game.

[suiheisen]

have some couth babygirl

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part two.

Friday evenings are typically spent in the comfort of your flat. Normally, you’re half paying attention to reruns of whatever shitty reality TV happens to be on and half scrolling through social media to keep up with the ever-fluctuating trends of content as per your job requirements, all the while eating your body’s weight in takeaway. It’s not the dream, but it’s certainly a dream.

Tonight, you plan on amending things to include going through the pictures of Bali’s stunning beaches that Lando’s been spamming you with throughout the day, but beyond that, you have no intentions of deviating further from your norm.

You’re actually really looking forward to it. Though you’d rather cut off your own hand than admit it to his face and give him new ammunitions to tease you with, you miss Lando during the winter breaks. So much of your year is spent having him nearby━ a near-constant presence buzzing with the inability to slow down let alone stop━ and when he isn’t around, the silence seems louder. There’s no one else who manages to annoy you the way he does, and it’s just not the same without him.

To make matters worse, between your new job, Lando’s travels, and the scheduling conflicts that have arisen in turn, you haven’t had a chance to catch up with him beyond a few back-and-forth messages about his current escapades. So you really, genuinely, truly are looking forward to it.

Garrett Ward throws a wrench into things.

You have mixed opinions of Garrett. He can be very sweet, and he’s gone out of his way to make you feel incredibly welcome in your first week with the Manchester City team. He makes good conversation and seems genuinely interested in what it is you’re doing, often asking questions about your equipment and process, which is a nice change of pace from most other clients you’ve worked with in the past who rarely give two shits about anything beyond the final product. But his reputation is… concerning.

Garrett Ward is infamous in English tabloids for being a notorious womanizer.

There are several articles that come to mind, but the most damning of which is from 2019, before his trade to Manchester City, detailing with very incriminating photos how he’d been seen entering a club with two women and then leaving just a few hours later with a completely different pair. You don’t want to assume he’s the same man now as he was back then, nearly a full five years ago, but you’ve been working in the sports industry long enough to know that athletes can have anyone and if they want then they will have anyone━ there is no shortage of temptation.

And you are not arrogant enough to assume you would be the outlier.

Which makes his interest in you feel less like friendly curiosity and more like something you need to be wary of.

It’s also why━ as you make the trek through the Etihad Campus car park━ you feel dread begin to pool in your stomach as you answer your ringing phone. “Hi, Garrett.”

“Y/N!” He exclaims excitedly, sounding like he hadn’t just seen you barely ten minutes ago in the weight room. “I meant to catch you before you left, but you were outta there so fast I wasn’t able to.”

And there’s probably a reason for that, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “Yeah, I usually try to be pretty quick about it.”

There’s an awkward pause left open as if he expects you to say more, and when you don’t he clears his throat. “Erm, well, I was actually just calling to see if, perhaps, you would like to grab dinner with me this evening.”

You don’t. At all. It’s one of the last things you would like to do. There are plenty of other hellish things you would willingly rather subject yourself to before sitting down and sharing a private meal with this man━ jumping into the Thames is one of them, and letting Lando drive you around on the autobahn in his Spider is another. Both could very easily result in death, permanent disfigurement, or any other number of horrible outcomes, but neither includes Garrett.

Your hesitating silence must be an answer enough for him, because he chuckles again and adds on quickly, “No strings attached, I promise. It’ll just be two friends getting dinner.”

All you want to do is get cozy on your couch in your pajamas with a kebab from the place down the street and watch pretty people deal with their pretty people problems on TV. You don’t think that’s too much to ask for, but apparently, some higher power does.

“I suppose that’d be alright then,” you agree tentatively, speeding through the stages of grief as you mourn the initial plans of your Friday evening━ the easy, simple, comfortable plans. “Shoot me a message with the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

“Awesome!” Garrett cheers. “See you later then.”

The peaceful silence that awaits you after you hang up feels like it’s mocking you. Too bad you can’t flip off silence.

“Look, the truth is, City is looking at trading me at the end of the season if I can’t clean my act up.” Garrett’s voice is quiet as he admits the reality of his future to you, but it breaks the silence of the world around you like a gunshot. “And not just loaning me out━” he adds, a twinge of something akin to anger noting his tone, “━but fully trading me. They’re saying that my image makes things too hard for them and the only way they’ll consider re-signing me is if I can either keep my name out of the tabloids or try to clean myself up.”

In Garrett’s defense, he technically did hold true to his promise of just two friends getting dinner. Things were actually going quite well, too. The restaurant was a little more high profile than you would’ve expected for a casual meal, but that can easily be passed off as the luxurious lifestyle and expensive tastes of a pro athlete who can certainly afford it. Expenses of your meal aside, he’d been good company, asking after the ways of working in Formula One and then finding similarities in his football career that made it easy to chat about the struggles and stressors of professional sports.

But you can recognize that this is where it’s all beginning to go downhill.

He’s announced it completely out of the blue as you’re walking back to the garage where you’ve both parked your cars. On top of that, his pace slows and you’re forced to slow down as well to match it until you both eventually come to a halt in the middle of the pavement.

You feel for him, in all honesty. You understand the difficulties of contract negotiations and how easily they can fall apart. The fragility of Formula One contracts is its own special brand of tricky and you’ve seen many friends move on to other teams in the blink of an eye just as they’ve begun to settle down and make their mark where they are. You can’t say for certainty that you understand the mechanics of football contracts to the same degree, but you can imagine they have their own fragile fine print.

But the chill of a January night in Manchester is brutal, and you’ll be the first to admit that your outfit does not protect against it. You don’t really want to be having this conversation in general, because you’ve known Garrett for all of a week which makes you acquaintances at best, but you especially don’t want to be having it now, out here in the cold when all you want to do━ all you’ve wanted to do since this afternoon━ is curl up in something warm and comfortable and pretend the world outside your flat doesn’t exist for a few days.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me if I’m being honest, Garrett.”

He shrugs. “I just thought you might be able to help.”

You shove your hands in your pockets in a desperate attempt to keep your fingers from going more numb than they already are and shake your head at him. “I don’t know how exactly you think I can help you with that. I’m a photographer, not a PR officer.”

“My agent thinks it would be a good idea if I showed the media that I could hold down a steady relationship. Prove to them that I’ve changed my ways, and have matured.” He shrugs again, nonchalant despite being the one to bring this up in the first place.

“Have you?”

He makes a face, something between a flirty smirk and a suggestive wink, “Well, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Garrett.”

“Look,” he crosses his arms and levels you with a look that fills you simultaneously with more rage and annoyance than a single person has ever made you feel before. “It would just be for a couple of months, and then we could stage an amicable breakup and that would be that! It just has to be long enough to show everyone that I’m not the same as I used to be.”

You give him a look right back, hoping it conveys how appalled you are by his audacity. “Okay, but why me of all people? Christ knows you probably have a list of women in your contacts who would jump at the chance to pretend to date you for a few months.”

His face pinches up in disgust. “Yeah, but they’re all former hookups, and I mean, they’re kinda psycho about me to be fair. If I tried to end things, they’d probably go to the tabloids themselves and smear my name with the worst things they could come up with.” He shrugs again, and you’re starting to find that you hate it when he does so. “I need someone willing to just play along for the time being and who will be discreet when things are over.”

“And you think I’m that person?” You scoff. “You’ve known me for a week!”

Your voice echoes and it reminds you once again that you’re having this conversation in the middle of a random street in Manchester. It’s cold and dark, and you’ve been attempting to bite back your frustration since the moment Garrett called you. You’ve been as nice as you possibly can be for this man, shy of bending over backward to worship the very ground he walks on, and you’re so close to your limit that you think if he shrugs one more fucking time━

He shrugs. “Well, yeah, but you know how this industry works. So I know you can be trusted.”

You take a deep breath to try and retain what’s left of your quickly slipping composure, before you say, “Garrett, this goes beyond unprofessional. I could potentially get into a lot of trouble for this. You’re technically my co-worker, if not my client by proxy. It’s not a good look for me to be getting with the athletes I work with, considering my entire career is based on working with athletes.”

He makes a befuddled face as if asking what that has to do with anything. It occurs to you that he’s probably never had to worry about the ethics of hooking up with someone when most of the women who are interested in him would do everything in their power to spend a night by his side whether it’s morally just━ or legal, for that matter━ or not.

“That doesn’t seem to stop you from being all cozy with that Nor-whatever guy,” he grumbles.

“What?”

“That driver,” he repeats. “You post him all over your socials, like, all the time.”

You tear your hands from your pockets and throw them up in the air, “Because that’s my job?!” The stupidity of the man before you is genuinely baffling. He’s been asking about your job all week long but the way he’s talking now makes it seem like he didn’t catch onto the fact that your entire career is centered around media and the creation of content made with the explicit intention of being shared.

“I am quite literally paid to take and post pictures of him per my contract with McLaren,” you continue. “And even if I wasn’t, he’s my best friend?! I’ve been working and traveling and spending the majority of my time with Lando since 2019 so of course I’m going to be close with him. Do you not post your mates every once in a while?”

“Yeah, but it’s different. All my mates are guys, so nobody thinks I’m dating any of them when I do it.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I cannot believe this right now. You know, for a moment, I briefly considered helping you. But you’re actually exactly the type of prick the tabloids say you are.”

He takes an intimidating step closer, and his voice drops an octave lower. “I would reconsider if I was you.” You’re not short, but Garrett isn’t either. He’s one of the tallest players on the Manchester City team, and the way you feel now with him staring you down makes you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his opponent on the pitch.

It’s fucking terrifying.

But you’re fucking livid, too.

Your jaw clenches and you bite out sharply, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he starts, “is that if you don’t help me, maybe I slip a word about something or other to my boss who slips a word to his boss who is, also, your boss, and suddenly, whoops!” He gives you a cocky smirk, so sure of himself that it makes you feel like your blood is literally boiling. “He’s not your boss anymore. In fact, nobody is your boss anymore, because your ‘slip in conduct’ was very inappropriate and made several players uncomfortable, which doesn’t look very good when trying to get jobs elsewhere in the industry.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Well,” he fucking shrugs. “When you say it like that, yeah. I guess I am.”

You cross your arms, your hands clenched into fists so tightly that you can feel your nails digging painfully into the flesh of your palms. “You’re a real bastard, you know.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, love.”

If only it were legal to kill a man━ Garrett Ward would be six feet under and picking worms from between his teeth.

You weigh your options, though. You’re not sure how much weight his word actually carries. For all you know, he could tell his boss, they could bring you in to discuss things, and then you could explain it all from your point of view. Garrett is a notorious flirt and you doubt it’s the first time he’s tried to pursue someone who isn’t interested in him. You doubt it happens very often, but it has to have happened at some point. Not to mention, his reputation regarding women is bad enough that Manchester City is already giving him an ultimatum, so you probably have a chance, and the worst-case scenario is that you amicably part ways with the team and that’s that.

But realistically there is a worse worst-case scenario, and it’s pretty damn close to what Garrett is threatening. Losing this side gig wouldn’t really be too much trouble. It would put a dent in your savings, and you’d have to be a bit better about how you ration out your groceries and other necessities around the flat, but losing your job at McLaren? Being blacklisted from the industry entirely? That’s life-destroying. You would lose everything━ all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to get where you are would be for nothing.

All because of a prick in sky blue.

“Fine,” you utter from between gritted teeth. “I’ll help you. But I won’t post you on my account. I won’t bring you home to my parents. I won’t go round to your flat and I certainly will not have you round to mind. You get one kiss to make it official to the paps, and then nothing more.” You take your own threatening step toward him, and a vindictive part inside you shines with malicious glee when he shifts ever so slightly backward. “If you try anything else, I will run to the papers and drag you through the mud worse than any of your little psycho groupies ever could.”

He scoffs, “You’d ruin your career.”

“But I’d tear you down with me,” you reply.

He takes a moment to think, staring into your eyes and weighing how serious you are. Whatever he sees staring back at him must be convincing enough because he sniffs, nods, and smirks.

“Deal.” He leans down, “I think I’ll be taking that kiss now. Make sure to really sell it, yeah?”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre

━━ a/n: i feel like i say this every time, but i am seriously blown away by how well the first part of this was received! like, seriously, thank you so much for the kind words everyone said about it! hopefully this second part lives up to the hype of the first, it's a little denser, but the events are important to establish for the rest of the story so it needed to happen!

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 7

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: I think a lot of you have been waiting on this one…and stick around after the end for something special!

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Can’t Wait” by Foreigner (if you listen to it, you’ll see why).

Word Count: 5,000 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut and feels. That is all.

Part 7: Until Midnight

Two weeks later, you could admit that Ben was frustrating you in a different way than usual. 

You didn’t want to like him, or be indebted to him. But he was different lately whenever the two of you were alone. Especially at night, when the two of you often met in the kitchen. 

It was the one time where he truly seemed to relax, without his men around him. Without the Soldier Boy persona he wore like a fine tailored suit. 

One night, the two of you were once again sitting together in the kitchen after a marathon of all three Hangover movies. Now you each had a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, of which you’d convinced him to try the “Chunky Monkey” so you could have your “Half Baked” brownie pieces and cookie dough to yourself. 

Ben had all but inhaled his, while you were still chipping away at half the pint.

“You still hate me?” he asked.

You paused in delving into a thick piece of brownie to look up at his bearded face, which was deceptively nonchalant. If he was asking you that, then he really did want to know.

Yet it was a harder question to answer than you would’ve thought a couple of weeks ago. You decided to level him with the truth this time.

“Like I said before, I don’t have a personal vendetta against you or anything,” you admitted. 

Ben rose a brow at you. “But you hate me.” 

You sighed. He could be so childish sometimes.

“Have you forgotten that you’re still holding me against my will?” you pointed out. “Presumably until my team can find me, and you can pick them off one by one.”

“You fuckers came at me first,” he countered. “And I haven’t touched you. Hell, I saved you.”

Yes, he had. You couldn’t ignore that fact.

But there were other reasons that he needed to be put in check.

“You’ve killed a lot of fucking people, Ben,” you said. “I can’t imagine how many of them didn’t deserve it. And before you start, collateral damage is not an excuse. It’s murder. You haven’t seemed to care about that, or much of anyone other than yourself and your own amusement.” 

There. Cards on the table.

Ben set down his ice cream on the counter with enough force to rattle his spoon. He crossed his arms at you.

“You’re pretty fucking high and mighty for someone who probably spent the last few years up Vought’s shithole,” he pointed out, shaking his head. “Doing their dirty work. Whatever I did back then, it didn’t end with me. You were part of it too.”

You frowned in annoyance. A hot retort was poised on your tongue.

Whatever he did back then? He’d crashed a skyscraper and killed nineteen people last year! He’d taken out nearly the entire cast of Payback, his old team. However justified he felt about the latter, taking a life was taking a goddamn life!

You wanted to say all that and more…but you paused.

Because he wasn’t exactly wrong, about you at least. You knew you’d done your fair share of shit. And you had taken people out, when you’d needed to.

For self-defense, to stop a criminal, to protect someone…and yes, sometimes, you’d been part of the cleanup crew. Disposing bodies and extracting supes from “unfortunate situations.”

Those times made you feel less than human for being a part of it. And it was the main reason why you’d gotten the courage to quit Vought and join Supe Affairs in the first place…

You frowned at the trail of your thoughts, but his voice soon jolted you out of them.

“Ain’t this a bitch,” said Ben. “If you could, you’d want me dead. Even though I saved you.” 

Your lips pursed. “Dead is a strong word.” 

His angry gaze on you was unrelenting.

“Asleep is as good as dead for me.”

You stared back at him in resignation. Fair enough.

You couldn’t refute that, but you also didn’t know what he wanted from you. He was implying that he wanted you not to hate him, but he wasn’t willing to let you go either.

You got up to put your spoon in the sink, mostly so you wouldn’t have to look at him anymore.

Ben rose from his seat. You felt him approach from behind. You still tensed up as his arm reached around your form to drop in his own spoon. His arm withdrew, but he stood just behind you, at your side. His hand curled around the edge of the counter.

Letting out a discreet, steadying breath, you turned towards him and met his assessing gaze…but you soon looked away.

It was too much. He was too much. Even his musky cologne was invading your senses, threatening to cloud your judgment.  

Before you could back away, Ben grasped your chin, tilting your face up to him so you couldn’t hide. He heard your pulse picking up with his sensitive ears.

“Well, well. Your heart’s just racing away, baby doll,” he said.

He smirked at the blush rising in your cheeks, despite your defiant gaze. You might’ve said you wanted to put him to sleep, but you definitely didn’t seem to hate him. 

“You know, that offer’s still on the table,” he said. Your brow quirked, and you crossed your arms.

“What offer?”

Ben’s hand slid along to frame your jawline, his thumb sweeping across your reddened cheek.

“I can help you end that little dry spell of yours,” he drawled. “Calm that pretty head and have you sleeping soundly tonight.”

Oh, he’d help you fucking sleep, he thought.

He’d help you not be able to sit on that perfect ass for a week. He’d gladly work you up with fingers, lips, and tongue until you threatened to fucking drown him. Until you were writhing at his touch and singing just for him. Until you begged him to fuck you.

But you just rolled your eyes at his offer with a huff. Maybe you didn’t believe he was serious. Oh, but he fucking was.

Overall, you were a pain in his ass. And you had been from the beginning.

You had a dangerously smart mouth for a woman. Along with a stubborn streak to rival his, and a strangely self-righteous attitude for someone who’d mucked through the bowels of Vought and played a part in that world, just like him. You weren’t so fucking innocent either.

But he could also see that you were trying to be different. You had a conscience. A family and friends and a lot of other things that Ben didn’t have anymore. And maybe never had to begin with…

You claimed to want to bring him down, but you cooked for him, hung out with him, and he could start to believe that you actually enjoyed his company, rather than pretended for self-preservation’s sake.

You were a fucking conundrum that he couldn’t totally figure out. And all the while, you didn’t seem to realize how much of a temptation you were. 

It didn’t matter if it was that sexy red dress at the club or these plain-ass jeans you were wearing. His hands itched to mold to your curves, squeeze and tease and familiarize himself until he could find out how glorious it would be to damn near suffocate between your thighs.

Your pretty blush, however, was spreading down your neck. Ben wondered how far he could make it go as he glanced down your V-neck top. His smile edged into a grin.

“I’ll admit, maybe I haven’t been the best host,” he said, injecting some charm. “You gotta be bored as all hell by now.”

You swallowed as his hand moved down the side of your neck. His fingers slid into your hair, but he kept the smooth pad of his thumb brushing across your cheek. You didn’t want to admit that it felt nice—and electrifying at the same time.

His touch was raising goosebumps down the back of your neck, tingling down your spine.

“You might be projecting,” you managed to quip. “Is the conveyor belt of prostitutes and drugs finally losing its appeal?”

You studied his face, his smirk, and you had a feeling you had deduced correctly: he was bored too. But now you knew why he didn’t want you to hate him.

He just wanted to fuck you.

That thought wasn’t so surprising. It seemed this man could jump into bed with just about anything with a pulse. But it still made a tendril of heat lick up your spine and your face flush.

You should’ve just pushed him away already…but his nearness was mucking up your good sense.

The truth was, you weren’t afraid of him. Not anymore. And maybe you didn’t hate him.

Maybe…

“Well, what’s it gonna be?” he asked you.

Your lips parted, halting on a reply.

Ben smirked. His hand tightened in your hair, and he finally began to lean down.

But your breath hitched. You instinctively pressed your hands against his chest before he could kiss you, a firm push.

“Ben,” you uttered.

He stopped, looking down at you with knitted brows. He just thought you were being stubborn now, a fucking tease even…

Until he saw the frisson of fear in your eyes.

He quirked a resigned smile. Stroking your cheek one last time, he let you go.

“All right,” he said. “Maybe next time.”

Your heart was hammering like a Phil Collins drum solo inside your chest as you made your way back to your room.

What the hell, what the hell.

He’d teased and flirted with you before, but not like this. It wasn’t totally obnoxious or disgusting, like he’d genuinely been trying to persuade you. He’d even looked disappointed when you stopped him. And he’d allowed you to stop him.

(And you resisted a shudder at the contrasting memory of Antonio.)

When you were back in your room, you released a relieved sigh. Your hands trembled on the doorknob.

But it wasn’t fear that’d made you nervous with Ben. Not exactly. It was the insane part of you that actually wanted to take him up on his offer.

Fuck, you thought, raising a palm to your still-warm forehead. I really must be crazy. Or sick. Sick in the head.

Or it had been a stupidly long time since you’d gotten laid.

“Seriously, tell me,” he’d said once, still with a deceptively light grip on your chin. The pad of his thumb brushed your full lower lip, making your breath hitch. He glanced down at your mouth, then back into your eyes.

“How fucking long’s it been since that pretty pussy’s been touched? ‘Cause in my opinion, that’s a damn shame.”

The memory caused a delicate tingle in your lower belly, pulsing between your legs. You took in a deep, calming breath through your nose.

That’s it, you thought. I’m done with this.

So you tried for a cold shower first. For the record, you locked the bathroom door before you undressed and hopped into the shower. As the water beat against your back and you dutifully lathered soap on your skin, you couldn’t help imagining his heavy hands running over your body.

Fuck. You frowned and quickly dragged yourself out of the shower.

For a few minutes, you were too antsy to get dressed. You paced your small room wearing only a towel, not even thinking really. Just frustrated beyond belief (sexually or otherwise). The truth was, you needed something, or you were going to implode. 

With a heavy sigh, you laid in bed on your side, still wrapped in your towel. You wrapped your hair up in a loose bun and closed your eyes, just taking a few moments to breathe evenly.

Your knees were folded up, almost to your chest. But you relaxed and let your thighs fall open. With a tentative hand, you decided to slide up between your thighs, just teasing the seam of your pussy.

Then with a sigh, you delved between your folds and teased yourself, to start with. Warmth grew in your lower belly, and you sighed louder when you slid a finger inside. You were wet already just with this, and your sighs turned to shallow breaths, and even a moan once heat flooded through your core, and you were getting close…

But a knock at the door just had to startle you.

“Hey, sweetheart. You there?”

Your eyes widened with a gasp, and you moved your hand back to your thigh. Oh shit.

It was Ben. Of course it was fucking Ben.

“Ah, w-wait a minute,” you replied. You scrambled out of bed to lock the door before he tried to come in.

But just your luck, he cracked it open just as you got there. You were met with his handsome face.

His brows rose, his lips then curving when he looked down at you. Or more specifically, you clad in only a towel. You tightened it up on reflex, with a hand on the twisted part at your chest.

“Excuse me,” you said in annoyance. “I don’t remember inviting you in.”

His mouth twitched at a deeper grin.

“It’s nothing major. I just had to ask you something,” he said, with an air of nonchalance that only made you suspicious.

Your lips pressed together as you rose an expectant brow.

“Okay, ask,” you said.

Ben reached for your hand, the one holding your towel together.

“Can I see this hand?”

You yelped and secured the towel with your other hand while he examined the one he held.

“What’s your problem?” you asked, with real irritation now. Ben ignored you in favor of staring at your hand, specifically the pads of your fingers. Then his gaze cut to you slyly.

He held your middle and index finger up to his nose, with an obscene inhale.

Your eyes grew wide as your heart stuttered. He did not just…

And Ben smirked.

“I think you’re the one with the fucking problem,” he said knowingly. He took a step forward, but you stepped back. Unfortunately, that just brought your back against the doorframe. Your mouth went dry when you again looked up at him.

“I don’t know what—”

He stopped you before you could deny it further.

“You think I couldn’t fucking hear you?” he asked.

You bit your lip. Oh God.

His brows ran even higher, his smirk ever deeper. His lust-ridden eyes raked over you, but they soon met yours again. His thumb ran down the inside of your wrist, over your quickening pulse point.

“I know you’re frustrated. It’s been a while, huh?” he said. “Believe me, I know the fucking feeling. But I can take care of that little problem for you. Take care of you.”

You took in a tremulous breath. His heady voice was a curse, reverberating through your chest and running straight down between your legs, warm and pulsing. He raised your chin to make you look up at him.

“You don’t have to like me for that, do you?” he asked.

It was as honest an offer as you were ever going to get. You had to give it to him though, in this, he was a good goddamn actor. He seemed to have figured out exactly what it would take to soften your resolve.

In fact, he fucking crumbled it.

You released a shuddering breath, and tugged him into your room by his shirt. With a hand behind his neck, you pulled him down into your hungry lips.

That kiss was warm and heady, fueled with a passion that only waiting and wanting could create.

Ben took the invitation to heart, grabbing your hips and already bunching the fabric of your towel. It was thin, and he felt the soft give of your curves underneath. He hoisted you up into his arms.

While a normal man might’ve struggled, you knew it was effortless for him. You willingly wrapped your legs around his waist and held his face with both hands. You broke the kiss for a second so you could brush his hair back and made sure he looked into your eyes this time.

“I don’t hate you,” you told him between panting breaths. “I should, but I don’t.”

And that was the God’s honest truth.

Ben paused at that. He roamed your face, maybe judging if he believed you or not.

Then, his mouth curved, and with one hand he reached back to slam your bedroom door shut. It shook on its hinges, but he didn’t wait for it to settle as he walked you to the bed and laid you there beneath him. Your hair fell out of its messy bun and fanned out on the pillow.

Ben gazed down at you, enjoying the sight of you all laid out for him. You were already breathing shallowly, your beautiful eyes bright with anticipation and wild desire. They were honest, and he liked that he finally knew what you were thinking.

He claimed a tight grip on your smooth thighs, parting them so he could find his way in between. He moved his way up to claim your lips next. They were plush and pliant under his.

You sighed against his mouth, diving a hand into his soft hair and running a hand down to the buttons of his shirt. He stopped you and all but tore it off himself.

You blinked in surprise, and then giggled a little at his impatience. But it allowed you to explore the new expanse of golden tan skin, down his neck, over his firm chest and muscular arms.

He relished in it for a moment—your touch. Your hands were soft and warm, and you looked to be genuinely enjoying yourself.

He smirked at that, but he grabbed your wrists before they could venture too much farther than the trail of hair leading below his belt. He trapped them against the bed on either side of your head, and you raised your brows at him with an annoyed little frown. Ben had to chuckle.

“Did I say you could touch me yet?” he said. You met him with a challenging tilt of your chin.

“Who says you get to make all the rules?” you asked. Your calf slid up between his legs, brushing insistently against his already rock-hard length. Ben let out something between a grunt and a moan, and didn’t realize that his grip on your arms was starting to get more than bruising.

You winced, with a pained sound caught in your throat. “Ben, you’re gonna break me.”

He amended his grip immediately, frowning at himself. He knew how to control his goddamn strength, even in moments like this (usually). Maybe he was too fucking excited to finally have you beneath him.

But he soothed his thumbs over your wrists and heeded the tug of your hands down to your waiting kiss. He braced an arm above your head and all but devoured you, slipping his tongue past your lips.

He kissed you like a man starving. Like you’d never been kissed in your life, and it was all you could to keep up with his demands.

Eventually he burned a wet trail from your lips to your jaw, down the column of your neck. He inhaled your floral soap, a scent that had been driving him crazy for days.

He sucked hard behind your ear, and you gasped, thought you were going to see stars.

Unconsciously you gripped at his hair, tugging more harshly than you meant to. But by the pleased sound he made against your skin, you figured he didn’t mind.

Ben soothed a heavy hand up your side and reached between you to untie your flimsy towel. And you let out a slightly shaky breath when he took in your fully naked form for the first time.

“Hmm,” his lips slipped into a grin. “I knew it. Fucking beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but blush, but you didn’t quite know what to say. Ben noticed; it wasn’t too often that he had you speechless.

Amused, he thumbed at your lower lip once more, making you smile almost shyly. (He kind of liked that too.)

And he finally touched you, brushing a hand between the valley of your breasts before palming at one of them. You sighed in appreciation, then moaned as his lips found the other one, his tongue swirling languidly around your nipple.

You arched into his touch, gripped into every groove and dip of muscle in his arms, especially when his fingers rolled and pinched just hard enough on the other nipple.

Your thighs pressed together between the cage of his legs, trying to find friction.

Ben noticed. He let one hand sooth down your belly, half pinning you down as he continued his relentless exploration. You wanted to touch him too, but right now he wasn’t letting up. Everywhere he touched and kissed and sucked set your skin on fire, and enhanced the flood between your legs.

“Ben,” you panted into his ear. If you weren’t allowed to find out what he liked yet (though you had several ideas), then you wanted him to touch you. 

“Be fucking patient,” he said with a chuckle. “I know what the fuck I’m doing.”

You had no doubt of that. But you were becoming impatient.

“Yeah? Am I gonna be as old as you before we get to it?” you teased. Ben glanced up at you, but seeing your smirk, his own grew.

“All right you little shit,” he muttered. He moved up to claim your smart-ass lips, swallowing your giggle as he took a firm grip of your hair.

His other hand, meanwhile, slid up the back of your thigh to grip a nice handful of your ass. He ground his clothed dick into your core and made you both moan.

He slipped a hand up the inside of your thigh and brushed between your legs, making you quiver with anticipation.

He smiled and glanced down.

“Finally, something I recognize in this century,” he remarked. “A nice bush.”

Your brows raised high, both in surprise and slight embarrassment. No one had ever given you that particular compliment before. But you did pride yourself on being neatly trimmed.

“What?” you still uttered.

“Women are so damn waxed nowadays. Feels like I’m fucking a mannequin,” he said.

“Oh, yeah.” You giggled as something occurred to you. “I’m assuming you encountered some bare landing strips on your tour of Brazil.”

He snorted in response. “One girl actually tried to get me on the waxing table. Something about a ‘manzilian.’”

You couldn’t help it. You pictured how confused he must’ve been at that particular offer. How damn near offended (and possibly intrigued).

And you laughed genuinely so hard that you covered your eyes as they teared up.

It made Ben smirk on reflex, feeling pleased that he achieved that kind of reaction out of you. 

“You tapped out on that one, huh?” you asked, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.

Ben shrugged. “Wasn’t so bad, actually.”

At that, you laughed even harder. Oh, how you wished you could’ve seen that. 

Ben quirked an amused brow at you.

“You laughin’ at me, sweetheart?” he warned. He reached between your legs while you were distracted, and thick fingers slipped between your wet folds. You yelped in surprise, but then moaned in pleasure as his thumb found your already sensitive clit.

But he, in fact, knew how to take care of you. His thick digits explored your channel and rubbed persistently against that spongey part near the back, slipping in and out with ease, and circling deliberately around your clit until your inner walls squeezed around his hand.

All the while, you held on tight to his shoulders and shuddered at the warmth cresting deep inside you.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, with a clenching hand in your hair. “Squeeze the shit out of me. Come all over my fucking hand, and then I’ll consider filling you up to the fucking brim.”

With a long and keening moan, you came apart, hot and wet over his fingers. 

“Shit. That’s a good girl,” he praised with a nod. He stroked inside you a couple more times before he withdrew his glistening hand.

You held onto his other one as you panted for breath. “Fuck.”

“Fucking right,” he said smugly.

You rolled your eyes, but you still smiled as you sat up and went for his belt. You were surprised he hadn’t fully undressed himself sooner, but he sat up and let you do it.

The two of you knelt on the bed as the belt came free, followed by his pants and underwear and socks (he’d long ago kicked off the shoes). His smug smirk came back now that he was in his full glory, so to speak.

Another blush heated your face. You’d seen him like this once before, but there had been…a lot going on that time.

This time you had him all to yourself. Your canvas to explore. You started with kisses down his neck, like he’d done to you, biting and sucking though you couldn’t leave any marks on his skin.

Not fair, you thought in disappointment, but at least you were eliciting some pleased and guttural sounds the further down you went. And then you took his hard, velvety cock in your hands.

He was big enough that you were maybe a little concerned, but not enough to deter you as you teased him with your soft hands, then squeezed and caressed experimentally. He gripped your hips tight.

“Now who’s taking a fucking eternity,” he gritted out. He encouraged you to lie back and raised your hips. You found purchase on his shoulders as your eyes met with his, and after a beat, you smiled and gave a short nod.

Ben aligned himself at your entrance and, slowly as he could manage, pushed inside you. You cried out as he stretched you, filled you deep and bottoming out with mangled moans from both of you.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel so fucking good already.”

You managed to smile and run a hand down his chest. “Uh, you didn’t ask, but I am on birth control.”

His brows furrowed in realization. “What, the fucking pill?”

His team certainly hadn’t supplied you with that for the past month.

You shook your head. “No. An IUD. It’s fine.”

You couldn’t believe you two were having this conversation when he was literally inside you already.

“What? Thought those died out in the 70s,” he said.

“Well, they came back,” you said impatiently. “Just fuck me, Ben!”

Not one to be told twice, Ben continued by slowly pulling out of you, nearly the entire length of his cock, before pushing back in. It was torturous for him, but he knew you needed the time to adjust. By the third stroke, however, he snapped back into you more forcefully.

It elicited a gasp and pleased shudder out of you. Grinning, he picked up the pace from there and pounded into you at a relentless clip. You held onto his arms for dear life, your nails clawing fruitlessly into his skin. You grabbed his hand when he reached a particularly good angle, moaning his name.

“That’s right, crooner. Soon enough I’ll have you singing my fucking name,” he growled. “Knew I was gonna have you just like this, fucking you raw.”

You moaned in response. His words, his voice, his touch, it was all breaking you down and taking you apart, piece by piece.

Meanwhile, your voice only spurred him on. Letting go of your hand, his reached for your cheek. Then it slid down to your neck.

“You got a safe word, baby girl?” he asked, closing a firm, but playful hand around your throat.

But before he could put much pressure, your eyes flew open. Not in arousal, but in panic. Your hands flew to grasp at his wrist.

“Don’t! Please, don’t.” 

Ben looked down at you, surprised enough to pause in all his movements. He released his hand.

He’d very rarely seen wide-eyed panic in your eyes and in your voice. And you’d never said please. 

But then, even more strange, you got embarrassed.

You looked away from him as you caught your breath. Ben called to you uncertainly, perhaps for the first time using your actual name.

You took in a deep breath and sat up. But instead of pushing him away, like he half-expected, you moved so that you were both on your knees and you were straddling his lap.

Using his shoulders as leverage, you resumed the pace of dipping his still hard cock inside you, making you both groan in relief.

Ben helped you, gripping your hips to bounce you on top of him.

Soon enough, he grunted as that familiar tightening and heat of pleasure started to make his upward thrusts wild. He knew he was close…

And he snaked a hand between you to roll over your clit, making sure you were going to get there with him.

A deep tremble went through your lower belly, tightening your inner walls around him impossibly tight as you started to come. Then he followed, finally spilling up and into you.

His arms came around your waist like steel bands as you relaxed on top of him, panting for breath and holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

You gazed down into his eyes, and then his growing, triumphant smirk. It triggered your own wry smile.

And you had to wonder, What the hell did I just do?

AN: Was it as good for you as it was for me? 😏

But ok, seriously, I'm a bit self-conscious when it comes to writing smut, so I genuinely hope you enjoyed the ride lol.

(@waynes-multiverse You probably won't see this for a while, but our convo about the Brazilian wax made it into this chapter. 🤣)

Special Feature:

Check out this lovely moodboard created by @chernayawidow — specifically for this story!

I am obsessed:

She also takes requests, so just message her!

Next time:

You called his name again and took his face with both hands.

“Wherever you are in your mind right now, you’re here with me. Stay with me!” you raised your voice. His skin was getting really hot.

You gasped and had to let go of him when it threatened to burn you. His chest started to glow and hum. Your eyes widened, and finally, so did his.

Keep Reading: PART 8

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[kaledya]

Hello! Love you redesigns and the swapped au you made with you OCs! I've got a few question if you don't mind answering them (no pressure or anything)!

1) in a previous post you mentioned that Alastor and Charlie dont have the whole "Alastor tries to outshine Lucifer at being Charlie's dad" thing. So what is their relationship like in you au?

2) Is Sera in your swapped au? And if so does she act like Emily's Constantine? Like the two of them traded places or something?

3) How do Lucifer and Michael interact with eachother in present time if at all? Like when Lucifer made the meeting for Charlie, was it just extremely awkward?

Charlie's personality is a little different in my AU she is still kind optimistic cinnamon roll but not naive. At 200 years old, she has spent 170 years of her life in royalty, which has meant that she has had to be trained heavily (both academically and in combat) whether she wanted to or not.

Because she was the princess of hell and being naive would mean her future death and Lucifer and Lilith wanted to make Charlie a powerful princess and of course Constantine was interested in her education too.

So when Charlie met Alastor, after a while Alastor got to know her, he saw her as his equal instead of the naive princess that everyone thought she was, whom he could easily manipulate (the reason for this image of Charlie is that she is kind) and so a game started between them, Alastor trying to get Charlie on his side and Charlie trying to get Alastor on hers, both of them succeeding, but also failing.

Alastor also wants to break down Charlie's pacifist side and see her true potential.

Charlie thinks there might still be a light inside Alastor and she's trying to find it.

And he makes them a really great team.

In short, since their relationship is like this, if Alastor claims to be Charlie's father figure, neither Charlie, the hotel, nor Lucifer will buy it.

2.Sera is not in my Swap AU, I would like to make a big sister figure for Emily, but Emily being an only child makes more sense for Swap AU for now, but maybe I will change it in the future and add an OC.

3.

After Charlie convinced Lucifer, Lucifer called Michael and they had the most awkward conversation. They hadn't spoken in 10,000 years and the last thing Lucifer said to Michael was that he hated him. It was a cold conversation but at the end michael says "it was a pleasure talking to you again after so many years brother" and lucifer after a while says "it was nice talking to you too" and they close the conversation.

But much later in the series, Emily and Charlie work together to bring Michael and Lucifer back together.

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 4)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: You've been sold to a new group - again. KorTac just bought you off of the last team's hands, forcing you to uproot and settle a fifth time. Something feels different about this team, but you remain distant and cold from everyone. You figure in a few months, you'll be tossed onto the next bidder's plate, anyways. No sense in trying to bond with anyone now.

Additionally, Konig takes the first step at cracking through your outer shell.

Warnings: some distasteful jokes.

Notes: Nothing fancy here, just setting up the foundation for the upcoming events. This weekend should be more eventful! Thanks to everyone who's loved it so far, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter! (Also, still working on some oneshots and a Price fic too)

A year had passed. It felt like ten. I had been traded between four different private military groups. It felt like forty.

Working with Jax’s group started out just fine. On the first mission, things couldn’t have gone more smoothly. I took down every single enemy that stood in between me, the team, and the hostile package we were saving. We were done in less than three hours. Apparently, that was a problem for the rest of the team. I was too good. So skillful, I was hurting their egos. Rather than think of how I was helping carry out missions successfully without any significant losses, the team complained that I wasn’t fitting in and was causing a problem among the members. “Like she did back at her old base.”

I hadn’t been causing problems at all, but I hadn’t been trying to fit in either. From the moment I walked onto the base, I felt like a reject. I minded my own business and kept to myself, only being a team player when we were briefing or when we were on the field. The rest of the team was just fine with that arrangement, until they thought my skill threatened their reputation. The results of the missions I attended with the group should have convinced Jax to ignore his soldiers’ requests to have me bumped, but as with Price, he had his favorites. And he chose to listen to them.

It was a similar talk as the one I had with Price. You’re good, but the team doesn’t like you. You’re not really causing issues but, indirectly, you are. So we’re selling you to another private group. Even though they were selling me off just as easily and quickly as Price had, this didn’t hurt as much. Because I never had anything here to root myself onto to begin with.

So there I was, back on the heli, squinting down at the complex as my hair whipped around my face. Some soldiers stared back at me, sneering. Some smug. I stared back, expressionless. I’d learned to grow a hard shell around my roots – if I couldn’t be planted anywhere, it wouldn’t hurt as much when I was torn out of the earth again.

The two soldiers in the front seat were quiet. They pulled the heli off of the landing pad, speaking to each other in a language I wasn’t familiar with. It sounded Swedish. I turned my attention to the file in my hands, gripping it tightly as the wind threatened to snatch it from me.

KORTAC

Majka/Ridgeback

CONTRACTUAL AGREEMENT

I signed, looking out at the clouds. Another initiation briefing, another ice-breaker, another couple of months of hell. I mentally prepared myself for the unwelcoming stares and the countless cold shoulders I would bump into trying to rub elbows with this new group. I wasn’t sure if I would ever find a place to land, or if I would keep hopping across teams like rocks in a river, until I was swallowed by the water and carried away. Hopefully that happens sooner rather than later.

-----

I stood in the corner of the dimly lit room, settled in the shadows behind Ridgeback’s desk. He sat there, scribbling his signature on my document. I noticed how often he muttered to himself as he worked, his brow consistently furrowed, as if everything he read was something troubling. Eventually, he flipped through the pages once more, before grunting in approval. “Just about finished here, I’ll just need one more signature from you. Then you’re officially a KorTac sergeant.”

Like hell I am.

He held out his pen in my direction. I took it, scribbling my signature at the bottom of the page. It was sloppy. He scoffed. “You ain’t gonna give it a once-over?” he asked.

“No sir, I already know what’s in my contract.” I replied dryly. Five years, stealth expert, marksman, sniper-as-needed, subject to termination at director’s discretion.

He smirked at my expression. “I have a feeling you’ll fit right in with the rest of us.”

I doubt it. “We’ll see, sir.”

After signing my contract, Ridgeback collect the papers and we shuffled out of his office. He made his way down the hall as I trailed behind. The compound that KorTac was based at was surprisingly the most decent-looking out of the previous compounds I had been at. From what I had bothered to look at in the file, they were pretty well off; they carried out missions for different eastern governments as easily as one would check something off their to do list. And they were paid handsomely. Something I had to look forward to. Maybe something that would coerce me into putting in an effort to stay with the team.

Ridgeback was one of their leaders, and was a sinister looking thing. His eyes were always filled with suspicion, his body was hulking and tense… He looked like he was either ready for me to stab him in the back, or that he was getting ready to do that to me himself. His steps echoed through the halls rhythmically, while mine were nearly inaudible.

Despite my hard outer-shell, I was on edge. Every time I was signed to a new team, there were jabs, insults, threats, and sometimes petty attempts to trip me up – mentally and physically. I had no reason to think that this compound would be any different. If I could, I would have grown spikes from my skin, keeping everyone and everything at a distance.

We entered a small room with a table, some chairs, and a rug. How much do the governments pay them to afford such a luxury? Several people stood throughout the room, mostly against the far wall. Ridgeback slapped his papers on the table, spreading them to his liking, while I pressed myself against the wall behind him. Just a few minutes of this, then I can leave. I prayed that the meeting would go by quickly so I could go to my room. I felt like a dog, snarling and hunched as I faced the pack of wolves, who stared at me dangerously. You’re in the wrong group.

Ridgeback cleared his throat. “I hope you all looked over the files this morning.”

No answer.

“As usual, I see…” he sighed. “We have a new team member. I’d like you to please welcome ‘Bonnie’.” He stepped aside and gestured to me with a tilt of his head.

I met everyone in the eyes with an ice-cold gaze. I wanted it to be known: Leave me alone. I’ll do my job, you do yours. Otherwise, fuck off.

A few stares, some rolling eyes, some groans, and the occasional indifferent glance. I was used to it: no one wanted me here. Give it a few months and I would be sold off to the next group. My skills couldn’t make up for the lack of chemistry with the team – I would be wasting no efforts to change that.

“What does she bring to the table?” one man asked.

“Better be a sandwich.” Someone answered, earning a few laughs.

“Chlamydia.” Another said. More laughter. A few glares towards the speaker.

I continued to stare at the wall behind them, unamused.

“I expect you to treat her with respect.” Ridgeback continued, purposefully directing his words towards certain people in the room. “We’ve needed another marksman for a while now, and she just so happens to bring other skills with her. She’s a decorated sergeant major that specializes in stealth extractions and attacks. We need her. You all know that, seeing as how these last few months you all have been lacking.”

More silence. Some people shifted uncomfortably.

“So please accept her as one of our own, because she’s here for a while.”

I groaned internally. We’ll see.

Ridgeback moved on to talk about other things. An upcoming hostage-rescue mission set to take place two weeks from now. I remained against the wall, listening close to the details: I would be one of the first people to strike, alongside Fender, O’Connor, Konig, and Horangi. Fender and O’Connor would work together on a checkpoint, while Konig, Horangi, and I would be alone to take out the other three. Zero, Roze, Juno, and Oni would be retrieving and extracting the hostage package, with Castillo and O’Connor covering them as snipers – once O’Connor and Fender had cleared their checkpoint. Mine wasn’t too far away from them, so I would be backup as needed.

Simple enough.

After the briefing, we were dismissed, and I trudged out of the room with everyone else. I broke off from the crowd and walked briskly down the hall. I heard a few disgruntled voices as I pushed past the bodies.

“Gone so soon?” a woman’s voice called out. I didn’t bother to turn around.

“Got shit I need to do.” I replied.

“Fair – we’ll be in the commons later, you should swing by. I’d be rude if you didn’t introduce yourself.”

I ignored her and continued down the hall. I pulled my keycard out of my pocket – this compound was nice. Most bases didn’t even have the luxury of locked doors, let alone private barrack rooms. I reached my door and hurriedly tapped the card on the lock, stepping inside and locking myself in.

I let out a tired sigh, leaning back against the door. I didn’t feel anxious, yet my shoulders couldn’t have been more tense. Having to adjust to a new team for the fifth time… the weight of it finally settled on my mind, and I groaned. Maybe I should just quit. Being a civilian would be boring, but at least it’s a consistent life.

My bags were still piled on the floor near my bed. I had the convenience of an in-unit shower and bathroom, as well as a desk and a short dresser. I grabbed one of the bags, dropping it onto my bed and rummaging through it. I pulled out a pair of cargo pants and a compression shirt – I desperately needed to change, as my current clothes were still covered in dust and dirt from the helicopter ride.

I quickly took a shower, leaving my hair in a braid and focusing on washing the dirt from my body. I dried off and pulled on the new set of clothes. I looked at myself in the mirror – my eyes had dark bags under them, and my mouth had a slight downturn in the corners. Something that had become permanent over the last year.

I walked back into my room. My bag was still on the bed, clothes strewn about, along with a couple of books and files. I sighed, pushing them all to the side and flopping down on the mattress. Damn, I might actually try to stay this time… I thought, sinking into the pillows. I closed my eyes, wondering if I would even go to the common area tonight. They’d be fine if I wasn’t there.

Suddenly, I heard a soft knock on my door. I tilted my head up, staring daggers into the door, hoping whoever it was would just go away. I’d had my fill of strangers for the day. I dropped my head back down onto the pillows. Another, sharper knock thrummed against the door.

“Busy.” I stated loudly.

“No you’re not.” An accented voice spoke through the door.

I scoffed, rolling out of bed and making my way to the door. Who the fuck-

I opened it annoyedly; my eyes were met with someone’s chest under their compression shirt. I looked upwards until I finally found their eyes, which were the only things visible under his sniper hood. I cocked my head to the side. “Yes?”

The man cleared his throat. “Bonnie?” he asked. There was a sense of professionalism in his voice, with an undertone of… nervousness? I couldn’t quite place it.

“That’d be me.” I said curtly. Unintentionally, my demeanor became cold and unwelcoming, as I had forced it to over the years when I had to interact with anyone. Alone, I was myself. Around other people, no one had the opportunity to know what I was like. I refused to let them.

“Konig.” He reached his hand down in front of me. I grasped it firmly and shook it, surprised at how strong his hold was.

“Cool.” I said.

“I’m your Colonel.” He spoke, and I noticed his Austrian accent.

“Cool.” I repeated.

“Since we’ll be working together,” he started, taking a step back so I didn’t have to crane my neck so hard to look at him, “I figured a proper introduction was in order.” He peered over my shoulder, glancing at the clothes strewn about my bed. I caught a flicker of annoyance in his glance, before he looked back at me. “What do you say we talk over dinner? You’ll get a chance to meet the rest of the team, and figure out how we work.”

“Actually, we won’t be working together.” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest. Konig looked confused. I continued: “Ridgeback said you’ll have your own checkpoint to clear, and I’ll have mine. I don’t need to ‘figure anything out’. I know how to do my job, thank you very much.”

Konig’s eyes narrowed in disgust. I saw his hands clenching into fists. “You’re a part of a team. You need to work with them, you know.”

“I don’t need anything.” I snapped. “Tell me what to do and I’ll get it done. That’s what I do.”

Konig huffed in frustration. He gave me one last glare before muttering something in German and storming off. I sneered behind his back, then closed my door behind me.

I started to curse at myself – I was given the perfect opportunity to bond with the team, and I had squashed it like a bug. But I told myself what I always did. It wouldn’t have worked out anyways. Just wait until after the first mission, you’ll be sold of to the next director that deems you useful. It’s only a matter of time – no use trying to find a sense of home here. I walked back over to my bed, dropping on it with a scowl.

My roots were hanging in the air, desperate to grab hold of something, anything – just to ground myself. My leaves were starting to fall off and float away, and my branches were tired. I was so tired. I wished I was back with the 141. I wished I had said something to Soap before I left. I should have begged Price to let me stay. I should have tried to talk it out with Ghost from the night that it first fell apart.

I groaned, cradling my head in my hands. I’m not going to the common area tonight.

-----

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues

[yume-yuurei]

Smitten Ace × reader drabble

I recently came back from a ve~ery long trip, and I've got a few ideas to share... to be honest, I used to be pretty annoyed by Ace when I first got into twst, but the more content I find of him, the more attractive this prick seems >:/ I swear, liking him as a character feels embarrassing... but who cares? Basically, this post is all about what I imagine travelling with a smitten Ace might be like.

So, almost half of my trip was spent riding the train to get to a camp with a hundred or two of other kids from my region, so you can guess it was eventful. Imagine going on such a trip with the first-years team, having to take a train for three days straight - it's basically like becoming roommates for a short while.

To get at least a sliver of privacy, you call dibs on a top bunk from the very start; that way you can hide away in a space of your own when social interactions start getting exhausting. Hearing that, Ace rushes to claim the bed opposite of yours. It takes him some effort to convince Deuce, who was actually supposed to take that place, to trade, without blowing his cover. When you enter the train car, Ace is already unpacking his things, jumping down his bunk (almost landing on Sebek) to throw your luggage onto a shelf.

Settling down isn't easy, with how many passengers are in the train car and how little space there is, but eventually everyone takes their seat.

The road promises to be long, and what better entertainment is there if not playing card games? Obviously, Ace has brought a whole pack of them, a laminated limited-edition deck with am intricate design that he snagged from his brother. Passing cards out for everyone and starting a game. As expected from someone who's been basically holding cards since crib, he wins every single time, pulling kings and aces seemingly out of nowhere (or, perhaps, right from his sleeves...). When he exits the game, Ace leans closer to you, watching the way you use your deck and giving subtle hints on how to turn the situation in your favor, smirking proudly when you start picking up and winning more frequently.

Whenever your little squad sits down for a meal, Trappola takes a seat as close as possible - either in front of you or at your side. You two often trade or share, swapping food you don't like for something you have a liking for. Ace would never be caught dead admitting to it, but I feel like he might sometimes lie about hating some snack or desert, just to have a reason to share with you.

I don't even doubt that he'd be the one to initiate playing something like truth or dare later into the evening, having prepared a full list of embarrassing questions and wild dares specifically for this occasion. Expect him to bluescreen if, when dared to kiss the most handsome guy around, you pick anyone except him.

And eventually night rolls around. Clad in a complect of comfortable night clothes, you fluff up a pillow and a blanket, wrapping yourself up cozily and turning on one side. You face Ace, barely making out his features in the dark. His two crimson eyes stare into your face, and if at that moment all lights were on, you would've noticed a hint of fondness in his expression. Propping his head up on a hand, Ace whispers,"

Asleep yet?"

You two talk quietly for a few more hours into the night. School, family, plans for future - it's so easy to share with him, conversation flowing naturally. Contrary to the confident and boisterous voice he usually equips around others, right now he sounds gentle. No persona to upkeep (assuming that all others have fallen asleep long ago), nothing to hide or prove; and as you feel your eyelids grow closing and head sinking into the pillow, you succumb to heavy sleep of exhaustion.

The last thing you hear before dozing off is a far-away:

"Good night... dream of me, yeah?"

[starlitships-moved]

i demand a ranked lists of all fnaf fanfics you are reading. i want to read them too

*rubs my hands together* There are so many good ones...!

Okay, we've got:

Solar Lunacy by bamsara ( Just. TOP TIER. CHEF'S KISS. AMAZING FIC. The characterization of Sun and Moon is SPOT-ON. Reader is just a simple employee - A jack-of-all-trades kind of worker - that befriends the Daycare Attendant... And learns some rather dark secrets along the way... )

Ventura Highway by MadameMiz ( "You are an idiot who, in the eyes of the law, just stole a multi-million dollar piece of AI animatronic technology from a highly controversial company. Now a fugitive, you weigh your options, and with few choices available you decide going on the run is your best bet. Time for a road trip." )

Twin Animatronics With Too Much Time on Their Hands by twinanimatronics ( ANOTHER fic that has Sun's character spot-on! Reader is the Daycare Attendant's handler. Also Sun and Moon are separated here! Lots of memes and silliness in this fic, but also a lot of angst! )

404: Personal Space Not Found by CrazedAuthor ( this one REALLY holds a special place in my heart because this particular reader insert is by far the closest to how my actual personality is! Reader is working at the plex as a staff member, and befriends the Daycare Attendant. Sun is easy to get along with. MOON, on the other hand.... Reader also befriends DJMM! Tons of cute interactions between Reader and the DJ! )

(It was, in reality, not fine) by bones-of-a-rabbit ( ANOTHER fave of mine! I love how soft Sun and Moon are towards us/the reader insert! Reader is the new tech/repair person at the Mega Pizzaplex, and their first task is to separate the daycare attendant into two separate animatronics! However, Reader is in WAYYYY over their head... )

Copper Cogs Rusted Through by paper-lilypie ( A year after the fire at the pizzaplex, Reader finds the remnants of the Daycare Attendant, manages to repair them, and lets them stay at their home! Reader is also working multiple jobs and taking care of their 3 siblings at home! )

Holler If You Need Us by CasterCassette ( "You are a sheriff of Fazed Bear. A town that used to be the benchmark of progress, now is nothing more than a half-deserted crumbling ruin, where people go missing daily in mysterious circumstances. It's up to you to figure out this unsolvable mystery and save the rest of this wretched town. But can you even do it? After all, it's been too long since the first disappearances began." <- Author's description! Western Au! Sun and Moon are outlaws in this one! )

West of Fazbear's by PinkMushrooms ( "You're a lone adventurer, heading West across the desert to seek your fortune. Unfortunately, you don't quite make it there just yet. After falling off the back of the cart you were hitching a ride on, you end up stuck in a town called Boring Springs, looking for a way out of it. While there, you come across the oddest sight you've ever seen - a tall, lanky automaton dressed in bright colors, speaking like a real person. He introduces himself as Sun, and says he and his companion Moon want to travel further West too. You're inclined to say no to their request to travel with you - there's something off about the two, and neither will say why they're so anxious to get away from the East. But hey, when has something like self preservation ever stopped you before?" )

---

And now for the Merfolk AU fics!

Celestial Omens by bamsara ( LITERALLY IN LOVE WITH THIS ONE. Child!Reader saves two VERY odd-looking fish from certain death after they get trapped under a fishing net on the beach... And years later they return the favor... )

There Are Many Benefits (To Rethinking This Career Path) by moonliched ("Life is cushy, working on a subterranean research facility on an underexplored ocean planet. As the resident handyman, most of your work takes place underwater - lucky for you, cave diving is your passion. With the building between bi-annual research teams, and the next lot yet to arrive, you find yourself with an excess of free time. All you have to do is fulfil your weekly duties, prepare the facility for the next team of researchers, and relax. Oh, and track down the net that went missing some time ago. And then you find it. In a submerged cave. Trapping a mermaid. You really wish this wasn't your responsibility. (Moon thinks he should have listened to Sun and stuck to hunting in warmer waters. Why does this bizarre two-tailed mermaid keep coming at him with sharp instruments?)"

For in Safe Horizons ( prev title was The Horizon and the Little Star ) by horizonandstar ( "It was supposed to be a normal expedition like any other, but something goes wrong and the ship crash-lands. Now you’re stranded on an ocean planet with no way of going home. How long can you survive until you can call for help and leave this planet? For the first time in your life, you’re alone. As alone as one can be when two alien creatures follow you around, anyways." <- Borrowed directly from the Author's description! A really cool Subnautica/merfolk AU! Honestly one of my faves. )

Painted Rocks by cerebralfluids/cerebralfluid ( THIS ONE. GOD. I get so flustered by Moon in this one... Reader saves Sun from a group of angry sailors that planned to leave him on the beach to dry out... And ends up leaving with the sirens by taking their family boat on a little adventure... )

Call of the Abyss by Buligete ( "It was probably all very silly, considering the precarious situation I found myself in, but it really was all I could think about. Could you really blame me? I never expected to find myself in this kind of a mess. I was not some big shot, thrill seeking space explorer. I was no seasoned freight worker. No avid alien world survivalist. Not even a simple cruise liner flight attendant. I was a gardener. My feet belonged firmly planted in the soil of a garden world. I had spent my entire life up to now solidly anchored on Earth, and never dreaming of leaving the safety of gravity and atmosphere, despite the increasingly uncomfortable quality of life on the crowded homeworld. Sure, I dreamed of greener pastures. Of fresh air and fertile land. But frontier life and adventures in the big expanse of space? Not quite. A FNAF x Subnautica crossover, about the challenges of survival, surprise friendships with quirky software and alien merfolk, man made horrors beyond our comprehension and unexpected mysteries to be uncovered within the depths." )

Astro-Nautical by pterolem/echoingkarma ( PLOT TWIST: YOU'RE the merperson, and Sun & Moon are pirates! )

Song for a Siren by SolarRush ( Reader is working at the Faz Aquarium and Research Center, and discovers an abandoned exhibit and two mysterious mers... )

Off the Starboard Bow (and into your arms) by themarginalartist ( "Fazbier is a coast town on the Pacific Ocean you’re finally moving back to after your grandparents left you their home. You loved all the days of running down the sands to the water, collecting pretty shells and rocks, and indulging in the local legends of the sirens. But maybe those legends are a lot more real than you first thought…" <- I borrowed that description directly from the fic! REALLY interesting story and great characterizations of both Sun and Moon! Also has cool stuff like siren magic, etc. )

---

There's probably a few I forgot, but these are my absolute favorites at the moment!

[malk1ns]

36. things you said but didn’t mean (sidgeno)

tell me you're not over contractgate without saying you're not over contractgate...

thanks anon! the prompt list is here :)

Zhenya’s phone has been going off since the news broke last night.

He turned it off after he signed his contract and got confirmation it was received; he wanted to go to bed without constant interruptions, actually get some sleep after an emotional and exhausting couple of days. He hadn’t been that successful, but he’d at least woken up and for a few minutes been able to pretend that it was just a regular day, that nothing dramatic had happened to him recently, and all he’d have on his phone were the usual drunk messages from Sasha begging him to come back to Moscow early and a few good-morning emojis from Sid.

After he finished his tea, though, he couldn’t avoid it any longer, and he reluctantly took his phone into the living room, hoping that maybe the background murmur of the TV would lessen the blow.

It did not.

The TV is on, sure, but Zhenya had to turn it to mute—the morning news clashing with the constant pinging and buzzing as his phone frantically tried to alert him to every missed call, text, email, telegram, WhatsApp, instagram DM, snapchat, and tweet was giving him a pounding headache. And two hours later, he’s just barely climbing out from under it, deleting the majority of the notifications unread and focusing his attention on responding to teammates and the guys who are still lingering around Miami for the summer. The rest of the Russians and his family can wait—his parents will understand, and he doesn’t care about pissing Sasha off.

There’s one conversation that’s been pushed all the way to the bottom of his iMessages, inactive since yesterday morning. Zhenya’s scrolled past it a few times, but can’t bring himself to click on it.

Finally, when he finds himself actually contemplating responding to fans’ DMs with apologies for making them worry, he forces himself to open the last things Sid texted him, right after their fight.

hanging up on me? seriously?

this isn’t my fucking fault

and now you’re ignoring me? fucking awesome

whatever man. i don’t have to deal with this shit from you. i’m sick of your bs whenever you’re not getting your way. do whatever the fuck you want, i’ll find out what sorry team signs you tomorrow afternoon

Zhenya feels a little sick, reading it back now. He’d been so angry when he’d hung up on Sid, screaming at him like he hated him. Some of the stuff he’d said…he can’t blame Sid for being upset.

There are Flyers fans from their early years in the league who’d love to take notes on what Zhenya said to Sid yesterday.

Sid’s weathered Zhenya’s temper before, though—let him rant and rave and calmed him down with just the right words, and eventually, just the right touch. He’s always known when to leave Zhenya alone and when to engage, just like Zhenya knows how to handle Sid’s bursts of anger and the rest of his quirks. It’s why they work, it’s why they’ve always worked.

Now, though, staring at a conversation that hasn’t been updated in over 24 hours, Zhenya wonders if he finally said something that Sid can’t forgive. What else would have kept him from sending a message when he got the news that Zhenya was staying after all?

Screwing up his courage, Zhenya presses ‘dial’ and waits, holding his breath.

When it goes straight to voicemail, he wonders for a second if he really will pass out.

call me pls he fires off, sinking into the couch and rubbing his hand over his face when the message stays green.

He fucked it up for real this time, then. And now he’s tied himself to Sid’s team for the rest of his career, when Sid’s never going to talk to him again—or worse, he will, but in that freezingly polite voice he uses with annoying reporters and former teammates who have fallen out of his favor.

Zhenya wonders if Hextall would be able to trade him, even with the dramatics of the last 36 hours. Surely someone would be able to accommodate his new, reduced cap hit.

He’s not sure how long he sits on his couch, the TV playing soundlessly and his phone slack in his hand, but when his lock starts to turn, it sounds like a gunshot.

“Fuck,” Zhenya hisses, scrambling to retrieve his phone where it had fallen when he jumped. Probably Seryozha; old man never knows when to mind his own business.

When the door is finally open, though, the voice that floats through from the foyer is distinctly Canadian. “G?”

“Sid??” Zhenya says incredulously, jumping to his feet and almost tripping over his couch on his way to the hall.

Against all odds, it is Sid in his hallway, raggedy in his sweats and with bruise-dark circles under his eyes. He has one of his plain black caps crammed over his head, and the curls escaping from the sides are greasy.

“You’re staying,” Sid says, dropping his duffle. He looks small, shoulders uncharacteristically hunched in, and Zhenya moves toward him before he remembers what happened.

“I’m not sure you see,” he says cautiously. Sid seems skittish, darting his eyes around Zhenya’s condo like he’s never been here before. “I try to call, it’s voicemail. Sid, you’re here?”

“Oh, I was on the plane…I think my phone died while I was in the air, I don’t have a charger, can I plug it in somewhere?” Sid’s fumbling in his pocket. He won’t meet Zhenya’s eyes.

“Sid,” Zhenya says, concerned now, moving closer just as Sid sways forward alarmingly. “Sid! Jesus, come sit down.”

“Sorry,” Sid says faintly, letting Zhenya manhandle him into the living room and down on the couch. Zhenya remembers when they went to pick it out, how Sid had spent hours thoughtfully trying every couch in the store until the salesman looked like he was about to scream, before finally convincing Zhenya that this boring beige monstrosity was the right choice. He’d been correct, of course; this one is big and deep, and even ten years later still the most comfortable piece of furniture Zhenya owns.

“You’re sick?” Zhenya asks, plucking Sid’s phone from his hands and plugging it in. “Need water, maybe, or like, soup?”

“No,” Sid says with a deep sigh, settling back into the cushions and cracking his neck. “I’m fine. I’ve been traveling since last night, I haven’t slept…I’m just tired.”

“Last—” Zhenya snaps his mouth shut when Sid looks at him steadily. Last night, when his contract extension was announced. “Sid, I…”

“No,” Sid says firmly. “Listen. I get you were mad. I…well, I don’t know what it felt like, but I understand. And we both said some things…” He heaves a sigh. “I didn’t mean what I texted you. I’m not sick of you. I want to deal with your shit.” He looks down at his hands, twisted up in his lap. “I…you promised me. Do you remember?”

Zhenya does. After their first Cup, when they’d been so sure that they’d be back the next year, and the year after that. He and Sid had been tucked away together in a corner of Mario’s backyard, passing a bottle of shitty flat champagne back and forth and watching the sun rise. They’d been talking, but after a while it had faded to nothing, just quiet company, shoulders pressed together as the next day arrived.

“You’ll stay, right?” Sid had said abruptly, and Zhenya had looked at him, bleary-eyed and confused. “Here, in Pittsburgh. With me. You’ll stay? Even after your next contract?”

It hadn’t been a question that needed answering, in Zhenya’s eyes, but he’d answered anyway, leaning over and tilting Sid’s chin up and kissing him before whispering, “I stay always. Promise.”

He’d meant it then. He meant it last night, when he put pen to paper and signed away the rest of his playing career. He’d meant it when he was spitting invective at Sid over the phone, too, swearing he’d leave and sign somewhere the front office actually gave a shit about him.

“I never forget,” he says now, sitting next to Sid on the couch. “I’m so sorry, Sid, I’m like, I don’t know what I say to you. It’s such horrible things…I’m not mean, I swear. What do I do for forgive?”

When he looks over, Sid’s eyes are squeezed shut, but there’s a tear trickling down one cheek anyway. “I know you didn’t,” he chokes out. “I know, but…I was scared, G. I never really thought you’d leave me, and then…”

He opens his eyes and glares fiercely at Zhenya. “Fuck you for saying all that shit,” he spits, and Zhenya bows his head, because he deserves it. “Fuck you for doing that to me.” He sticks his hands in his hoodie’s front pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. Zhenya goes very still.

“I had to stop in Pittsburgh, on my way here,” Sid says, turning the box over in his hands. “I’ve had this…well, I had ideas, but we haven’t exactly made the most of the last couple of playoffs, so.” He snorts humorlessly. “We might not ever again, so I’m not sure what the point of waiting is.”

Sid flicks the box open. Inside there’s a ring, nestled in satin, shining bright. It’s gold, with beveled edges cut through with black striations, and thick; something that won’t look out of place on Zhenya’s big hands. If he knows Sid, there will be something on the inside—a date, maybe, or even a time.

“You don’t deserve this right now,” Sid says quietly, lifting Zhenya’s right hand and sliding the ring on. “And I’m not sure I deserve to be asking, either. But maybe that’s the point, eh? We’re still here.”

“Yes,” Zhenya says, splaying his fingers out to admire the ring, then folding his hands around Sid’s.

“Yes to what?” Sid asks, a bit of amusement lacing into his voice.

“Yes to everything,” Zhenya replies. “Everything, with you.”

[openconceptpanicroom]

The Secret Life of Songbirds

(Chapter One) - How you met

Iori Utahime x fem!reader

Summary: A collection of brief (and not-so brief) glimpses into the love story between you and Utahime.

Notes: reader is a queer menace, Utahime is having a gay panic, mutual pining, awkward flirting, fluff, angst, references to implied homophobia.

April, 2003- That’s a Pretty Girl

You were the second sorcerer in your family. And a late-bloomer too. One day you were just a regular girl going to school in Tokyo, the next… this. For three years now, you were a part of this strange world. Trained by an uncle you never knew you had, as he had been the first sorcerer in your family.But nothing, not curses or brutal training regimens, could have prepared you for her.

Your first day at Tokyo Jujutsu High, was when you first saw her. She stood so still, hands gripping her hakama with white knuckles. Unlike the rest of your new classmates, she wore the clothing of a shrine maiden. Her dark hair was neat and tied into two loose ponytails. A round face, bright eyes. And she was staring right back at you.

“Oi, what’re staring at?” your uncle elbowed your back. Had he been talking? You would never know. Startled, you blurted out the truth. Loudly.

“Pretty girl!”

The shrine maiden, and many others waiting to enter the school for orientation, heard you. Your hands went over your mouth and you watched that “Pretty girl” turn bright red. Once your uncle saw who you were referring to, he yanked you back and gave you her name. Iori Utahime, a member of a well-respected Jujutsu clan. Not someone you should be loudly declaring you find attractive, even if you weren’t both girls.

You shrugged, “A pretty girl is a pretty girl, uncle. You know I’ve got a weakness!”

“I’m tryin’ to keep you alive, kid! I meant it when I said I don’t care that you like girls, but she’s an exception,” he shook you slightly at the shoulders. Dramatic old man. Though you still heard snickering from your new classmates, you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you thought you would. In fact, you started to turn your head to see if she was still there.

“Utahime, huh? That’s a nice name—“

Your uncle grabbed your face in one hand and made pushed his face close to yours, “Do you only listen to every other word I say?!”

His rant only drags on, with him shaking your face in his hand while you daze off. Utahime.

May, 2003- On the same team

In the first few weeks of school you learned a lot. You went home to your uncle exhausted most days, bruised body and tired out brain. At school, some of your focus was taken up by that pretty shrine maiden you weren’t supposed to get too close to. For a sorcerer from a respected clan, she sure acted like a regular girl.

Utahime liked a lot of modern music, especially sports. She was easily startled, and even easier to anger. You watched from your seat as she berated a boy who tried to accuse her of being a crybaby. While she was crying over some baseball player being traded to another team. It kinda made you laugh, at first. When the boy didn’t let up, you stood, “Don’t make fun of her just because she knows how to show a fucking emotion.”

Again, far more people had heard you than you intended. Heads turned, curious. The silence was long. Ah, maybe your reaction was a bit strong?You cleared your throat and said, “Lay off Iori-chan, eh? She can cry if she’s sad.”

Utahime wiped her cheeks, “I… I do not need your help!”

Right, you almost forgot about it, Utahime’s bizarre dislike of you. From the first day onward, she just didn’t seem to like you. She would actively ignore you sometimes. You assumed it was because you embarrassed her. But jeez, it had been weeks. All you could do was sit back down as class began.

Later that day, students were divided into groups of three. Each trio, or duo, would be set that way for their entire time spent at Jujutsu High. These partnerships may even last after graduation. You were a bit nervous to hear who you would be placed with, but were pleased by the results.

You, a reserved girl named Mei Mei, and Iori Utahime.

At lunch, you gathered your new team together. Mei Mei was all class. Beautiful but cold and with the confidence of a grown woman. Hard to believe she was the same age as you or Utahime. Mei Mei didn’t hide what motivated her, money. You could respect her honesty. Utahime wasn’t offering up any information. Only eating her bento with her back hunched as she sat beneath the cherry blossom tree with you both.

“So, what’s your special technique?”

Utahime put both hands in her lap and crowed, “My technique allows me to amplify the abilities of my allies tenfold through the art of dance!”

She was cute like this, chest all puffed up and proud. You grinned at her, “Dance, huh? You must be really good at it.”

The earlier tension in her shoulders had eased. Utahime looked at you without turning her head, as if trying to hide the fact that she was talking specifically to you. No offense taken on your part. Plus, you were starting to get the hint that she was a bit jumpy.

“I suppose so…” a hint of pink was already spreading across her face.

You leaned in closer to her, “I’m a shit dancer. Maybe you could teach me sometime?”

Utahime jumped to her feet, “I will not teach the Iori Clan’s ancient techniques to someone like you!”

Unfazed, you said, “I can settle for watching you dance to make me stronger, then.”

A chocked guffaw left her mouth as she declared, “I’ll never dance for you!”

“Why not?” There was a pout on your lips that kept drawing her eyes there.

“Because… because… you’re so… ugh!” Utahime grabbed her half-eaten lunch and stormed back inside.

Mei Mei let out a soft laugh, amused by the free show. You turned to her, “Was it something I said?”

Smoothly, Mei Mei collected her things and stood as well. She looked down at you through pale lashes, “You’re both hopeless.” Mei Mei ignored your begging to explain herself as she left you beneath the cherry blossom tree.

[wuzeio]

i keep brainworming over your recent zombie au piece [kicks feet in air] tell me more 🫶 (if you wanna)

OUGGH GHDJFG IM SO GLAD 🫶🫶🫶T___T i think the AU fits AFTG especially really well!! My fav zombie apocalypse media is the Telltale Walking dead games so ... lots of inspiration drawn from that (and ofc Last of us for that good ol "oh they have immunity against the virus" trope") (also train of busan/TWD show for outbreak origin inspo)

How the virus outbreak starts in this AU: honestly have not thought about the specific details but the gist of it is that a deadly mutagen accidentally gets developed in a biotech lab while conducting experiments on animals >someone gets bit > starts to show signs and turns into zombie > more people get bit > everybody has the virus now, turns into a global pandemic

some char background/

Andrew and Aaron would have already been living together before the outbreak, and Nicky only lives likes 10ish minutes away from them. When all hell breaks loose, Nicky's parents get killed by a zombie hoard and he immediately goes to Andrew and Aaron to join up for safety. Andrew realizes that remaining where they are is only going to get them killed, so they drive his car out of the state in hopes to find a safer place (smart!).

I don't think Drew's group encounter Kevin and Neil until a few years later, when the apocalyptic world has become the norm and its all about survival now (maybe around 3-4 years?). The monsters have joined forces with different groups and even joined a few settlements in the past, but they find that they work best alone, just the three of them. Fortunately they have enough connections to make supply trades if its ever needed; Nicky's the interlocutor and peacemaker.

Kevi ... he would've still grown up in the Nest and played Exy in this AU. When the outbreak occurs there, the Ravens are trapped with the infected and it's basically a brutal death for all of them. Kevin and Riko manage to escape (with Riko ruthlessly killing a few teammates-turned-zombies on his way out, no hesitation!) Kevin and Riko have a very close relationship during the first few years of the apocalypse, but its more of Riko putting a leash on his brother and demanding him to do certain tasks. Kevin is strong and has lots of stamina, so he's incredibly reliable in an abundance of duties. Riko is also not above betraying groups they "befriend", and does not hesitate to kill or sell someone out when he thinks its better for their survival. Near the 3rd year mark, tensions between the two brothers begin to rise as Kevin starts to express his discomfort towards Riko's actions. They start to fight more often, and Kevin starts to rebel a little more. In turn, Riko gets increasingly paranoid about their dwindling supply stock/the fact that Kevin might betray him, so he ends up making a trade with a group of nearby raiders: Kevin for 6 months of supplies. Kevin, obviously, is horrified when he realizes this betrayal and deception. On the second night with the raiders, he manages to fight 4 of them off and runs off into the night. He meets Drew's group 3 months later. (btw kevin running off means that riko is now after him, because those raiders were not happy about what happened)

Neil!! He's in his last year of HS (still plays Exy for their team) when Mary convinces him to run away with her from their abusive father. In this AU she also steals a shit load of money from him and they take a plane to Georgia. The zombie outbreak occurs whilst on their run, and they manage to survive together for the first year. They make their way to South Carolina, but Mary gets killed during a crossfire started by bandits and...Neil is left alone now.

(note: I changed somethings regarding Neil/Kevin's relationship. Scratch them having past family connections!) He desperately tries to join up with a few groups, but all of them result with him either being assaulted or robbed from. The one group he finally finds and begins to feel a kinship with, he ends up being betrayed. Guess who the group is!! It's Kevin and Riko! After a near death experience with that, he's jaded, wary, and untrusting towards anyone. He's learned that staying alone gives him the highest rate of survival— that it's not the zombies that are the most dangerous. Those are easy to kill. A few smashes to the head and they're dead. But people, they're capable of doing the most evil, heinous things. (cue : " “It’s not the world that’s cruel. It’s the people in it.") oh also. he finds out hes immune after getting bit in the hand. He freaks out, introspects for a few days, and comes to the conclusion that he's going to kill himself before he turns. But it never happens.

3 years later, he's a seasoned veteran when it comes to surviving on his own. However, from a stroke of bad luck, he ends up getting hit by crossbow arrow in the forest while scavenging. This is how Drew finds him.

uhhh there's a lot more ideas in my head but I'm gonna wrap it up here because this got wayyy too long hehe thank you if you read it all... honestly this ask was very helpful because it helped me work out this AU in detail a lot more >:D

[moosemonstrous]

(don't mind me cannibalising my own bits from before 😳)

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - build your own nightmare

Yegor Ivanov is in charge of security on a large, well-appointed quasi-military base housing twenty thousand people – mostly J-techs and their families, but also a sizeable assortment of soldiers, scientists, medical staff, relief workers and support crew. It’s the most stable job he’s ever had. The general populace is just so grateful for the giant robots he deploys to fight the ever-nastier demons crawling out of the Breach, he barely has to pay any attention to the actual security part of it. His subordinates haven’t reported a single issue they couldn’t deal with themselves in years. His approval makes or breaks people’s careers. He has the respect of the international leaders for keeping Hong Kong off of their priority list. Somehow, in this beautiful, messed up world he managed to carve himself out an existence most people can only dream of. It doesn’t come without its share of headaches, though.

He has been pretty careful in building his strike team. He has the final word on every new ranger. He’s been saddled with a Stark from the very beginning, but while the current one is prone to sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, there is a definite advantage to working with someone who can handwave away what would usually be weeks of financial advisory committees. That seems to be the balance of things – trade a tiresome but overall manageable personality defect for a fantastically useful professional benefit. If nothing else, Yegor is good at dealing with tiresome personalities.

Brooks is barely an effort – military history, some very helpful connections in the underground and, for the defect, as-of-yet undefeated idealism. He can't be trusted with the more... sensitive issues, but tends to stick to the point in meetings, which is why he usually leads on the tactical debrief. This, like most things, backfires as soon as Cho gets involved.

“We’re talking about positioning,” Brooks says. “We’ll get to the hindsight part later.”

“Not if you’re going to point fingers like that. I can’t tell for sure until I get the hide, but drone footage shows the scales opening under pressure, here, let me—"

“Gentlemen,” he interrupts before their argument devolves any further. “Before Mr Reyes loses consciousness, if you please.”

Reyes startles from where he’s been daydreaming in his seat at the table. Every now and then, when the light hits just right, his damaged eye seems to reflect it, like some sort of a nocturnal animal. Like he doesn't give Yegor enough creeps as it is.

There are vanishingly few advantages to having Reyes on the team, but Yegor only has himself to blame for this. Most of the old guard making decisions around Hell Charger’s fate ten years ago have either died or retired into obscurity; other than himself, there is scarcely anyone left to confirm whether the similarities he’s seeing are truly there or just a product of his imagination. Even the way he shreds the label off the bottle of water in his hands, a perfectly common nervous tick, or the way he fidgets like he can’t wait for the meeting to be over – everything is just a little too close.

Not to mention his uncanny overnight progress with martial arts. Or the way he used the chain to choke out a Cat-4 demon. The chain that, as far as anyone can tell, he never had any training with.

Eli was always so fond of his garrotte.

“Sorry,” Reyes mutters, and looks at the wrapper confetti in his hands like he’s only just noticed it.

“As I was saying,” Brooks shoots Cho an impatient glance, but if Cho can be relied on for anything, it is to switch his focus to the weirdest thing in the room and Reyes certainly matches that description. “The last three attacks confirm we need to shorten our approach time. The demons are clearly prioritising civilian targets over a head-on fight with the closest hostile. The jaegers were too spread out, and until the core replacement program gets going we don’t have the speed advantage.”

“I get that,” says Danvers. “But what you’re proposing gives us very little space to react without running into land.”

“Where the jaegers outperform a demon every time,” Brooks points out. “As proven yesterday – even a rookie like Reyes can catch one when the water only goes up to your knees.”

Yegor didn’t truly believe all of his problems would be solved by putting the kid directly in a line of fire, but some part of him is still disappointed. It’s like the universe conspires to ensure at least one Reyes is always a thorn in his ass, and removing it risks perforating a goddamn artery. On one hand, Razorback slithering right past Eden Assassin and making a beeline for the coast is certainly bad news – Yegor has by now learned not to underestimate it when the beasts develop new strategies. On the other, he can’t pretend he wasn’t hoping it will make a short work of Hell Charger before the others caught up to her. On one hand, he’s sure to get the credit for taking a risk on a new ranger and saving Taipei. On the other, the new ranger has so far evaded several ways his removal could be considered innocuous and if Yegor gets any more direct in his approach, someone will notice. Cho has already made him his new fixation, and Stark is like a dog with a bone – it was a mistake to play the hardass card with him to start with. He’s less likely to be helpful now that he’s fallen for the sad orphan routine. Yegor has been making too many mistakes around Reyes, and that on its own is also familiar.

“We have to run this by other Shatterdomes before implementation,” he says, mainly to head off further squabbling. He nods at Brooks. “Work with Reyes on his ability to follow a direct order until we get a confirmation.”

“That’s unfair,” Cho rallies to his pet project’s defence again. “What was he supposed to do, let that thing hit the pier?”

Amadeus Cho is a thorn all of his own. Yegor stopped worrying about him months ago, when it became clear that there was indeed nothing tying him to Banner’s untimely demise. This much interest in not just The Charger but her pilots, though... “Mr Reyes is present to defend his choices, if he so wishes.”

He could, too. Any ranger at the table would likely do the same thing – throw themselves at the danger instead of staying clear of it when told, like a functional human being. If either Yegor or Brooks were to really press the matter, at least one of the pilots would acknowledge it, and he isn’t looking to initiate any feelings of solidarity. Of course, in this one thing Reyes is more obviously like his father than like his uncle – he doesn’t run his mouth at every opportunity. If he spoke up, Danvers or Summers would try to assert their dominance, which would inevitably lead to an argument with the twins, who have been keen on preserving their lone agent status despite the circumstances. Yegor could use the resulting hurt feelings without looking like he has a stake in the game beyond what can be expected. Instead, Reyes merely shakes his head, further convincing everyone that he’s a harmless newbie rather than–

What is this kid, exactly? More than a liability – he’s a threat. Yegor panicked once already, hoping to engineer a tragic accident, and only ended up making the problem worse. He needs to keep a cool head about this. Reach out to Chau, maybe, see if he’s noticed any mutilated bodies showing up on the island. Refresh the surveillance kit so he doesn’t have to rely on Barton for everything. And put a better face on meanwhile – Hell Charger stopped Razorback from barging right into the coast, where it would’ve decimated the ground troops in a blink of an eye. The press is going to want in on the new hero, which will only make the whole situation that much more complicated. You can’t quietly remove someone whose mug is on every news report for a week.

Yegor doesn’t buy for a second that Reyes turned back up in Hong Kong after a decade purely by accident. Not when he’s clearly trained in all of Eli’s favourite moves. Not when he isn’t asking any of the obvious questions, like he already knows what the answers are.

Not when his mask slips sometimes, and he looks at Yegor like he’s only delaying the inevitable to watch him squirm.

##

(in the highly probable event this doesn't come across clearly, Razorback managed to slip past the jaegers and would've hit a beach if Robbie didn't react. He was ordered not to engage, bc that was the agreed tactic and the others were only minutes away. For ~some reason~ he decided to catch himself a demon instead.)

(yes it is my experience that 90% of any major operations is meetings that could've been a quarter of the time if people stuck to the point, Amadeus would be my enemy at work. I've also cut out his entire aside about ecological impact of trying to curtail urban run-off so that will probably show up elsewhere in a good time)

[ladylooch]

more timo smut please, maybe with jacks best friend or nicos sister?

Loving & Leaving- Timo Meier (Part 1)

A/N: Soooo, I could definitely turn this into a miniseries. Let me know if you want more! Also, it’s hilarious and fitting I feel that way because Letters in your Last Name is so similar.

What can I say, we love a teammate’s sister trope

Edit: It's a series.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ Content), a little angsty

My foot bounces anxiously on my knee as I sit in the corner of the Devil’s family lounge. I’m impatient to leave, but my brother, Captain takes his duties way too seriously, is at least an hour from being ready. Normally, waiting for Nico is just part of visiting him in Jersey. I don’t normally care.

But normally, Timo Meier isn’t in the same arena as me.

Timo is no stranger to me. Not just because he’s a Swiss NHL player like my brother, but also because I’ve found myself in his car, his arms and his bed a time or twelve. It’s always been a fun, quick hit to take the edge off when he’s home for the summer. Just enough to hold us over for another year. That all changed a few weeks ago. Timo was traded to New Jersey and I about had a spit take with my evening glass of wine when I saw the social media post of him standing with my brother welcoming him to the team. Needless to say, Nico doesn’t know about us. Nor will he ever.

Cancelling my long scheduled trip to the U.S. immediately came to my mind, but Nico’s desperate whine when I hinted at needing to stay home had me on that plane despite my reservations. It’s not that I don’t want to see Timo. It’s that I don’t want to see him with my brother hovering so close. Nico is my little brother, but he acts like an older one with his protective and serious nature.

That pretty much brings us to now where I’m jumping slightly at every foot step I hear in the hallway.

My brown eyes lift to the door, connecting with my brother’s. I give him a big grin, then wrinkle my eyebrows in confusion when I see he’s not dressed in his suit.

“Hey.” He greets me, setting his hands on his hips.

“Hey stinky.” I tease. “Too lazy to shower?”

“Ha.” He rolls his eyes at me. “No, I’m going to stay late.” 

“Oh.” I can feel a slight tick beginning in my eye. 

“I know you didn’t travel thousands of miles to wait for me. So, Timo offered to take you home.”

My pulse pauses in my body and then rapidly thuds beneath my skin.

“Timo?” I try to sound breezy and carefree.

“Yeah. You remember him?” Nico jokes with me. My memory flashes to hot skin, greedy hands, and swollen lips on mine.

“Mhm.” I murmur. 

“Good, that would be embarrassing if you didn’t.” Timo says as he comes into view, stopping next to Nico. My brother grins at him, slapping his shoulder in greeting. Our gazes connect and a ripple of pleasure dashes down my spine.

“N, I can just wait for you. It’s really not a big deal.” I say, breaking my eyes away from the blue wave of desire lapping at me. Timo licks his lips, laughing.

“I promise my car won’t break down this time. I’ve upgraded.”

My eyes snap back to Timo and narrow slightly.

“Oh yeah. I remember that happening back home. Did you ever get your money back for that?”

“Yeah.” Timo lies, eyes not moving away from mine. 

The car didn’t break down. Timo pulled it to the side of the road so I could slide onto his lap and ride us both to what we needed. Nico was concerned when we pulled into his house much later than the 15 minutes it should have taken us to get home. We had to think of something and the car breaking down sounded better than the truth.

“I’m seriously going to be awhile. Timo lives in my building so he knows the way.”

Of course he does.

“Okay.” I finally agree with a grimace that I try to pass off as a smile. 

Nico waves goodbye, leaving Timo and I standing together. 

“Hi.” He murmurs, a smug smirk on his lips. He enjoys getting what he wants.

“Hi.” I respond, dropping my gaze to his black dress shoes. 

“Let’s get out of here, beautiful.” He reaches forward, sliding our fingers together and giving them a slight squeeze. He drops my hand when I begin to follow him from the room.

We walk in silence down the hall and into the main area where the player’s cars are held.

“It’s this one.” He points to a black Mercedes. The car attendant tosses Timo his keys. I slide in, taking in the expensive leather interior. Timo’s life is never lacking luxury. I cross my legs, sliding my shaking hands between my legs to squash my nerves.

“Why are you so nervous?” He laughs at me as he pulls onto the street. Once he is at a steady speed, he reaches a hand over to set it on my bouncing leg. I still immediately, feeling the rush of need replace the nerves in my body.

“I just didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“Sure.” He snorts at me, like this isn’t always how it goes with us. “Nothing was keeping me from getting alone time with you. Why do you think your bother is staying late?”

“What did you do?”

“Told him he looked slow tonight.” He laughs with glee. His hand stays glued to my thigh with each twist and turn to get to his and Nico’s apartment building.

“How are you liking it here?” I ask him as we pull into the underground garage.

“Good. Different than California.” He shrugs. “But, I was ready for something new.” I nod in understanding. Last summer, while I was laying satisfied and breathless on his bare chest, he confided in me that he felt the direction of the Sharks wouldn’t include him going forward. It was hard to imagine something else, but he wanted to be moved to a cup contender. It didn’t taking much convincing from Nico that New Jersey held that possibility for him.

“Nico is happy you’re here. He wouldn’t stop talking about it when he picked me up from the airport.” I tell him as we walk towards the elevator.

“He the only Hischier who’s happy?” 

I don’t respond. 

We step into the elevator and he presses the button for the 10th floor. Nico lives on the 13th.

“Um.” I lean forward, pressing 13. 

“You can press that button but you’re getting off on 10.” He’s leaning against the back of the elevator, hands shoved into the pockets of his dark dress pants, looking straight ahead. When the doors open on the10th floor, I walk out first.

Timo overtakes my strides, leading me towards his unit. He slides the key in, opening the door for me to walk in. I do while taking in the modern infrastructure. I don’t even get halfway to the open living room before his hands are on my hips. He pulls me back into his erection. I melt into his body, reaching to hold his head against my shoulder. His lips press against my neck, then open to glide his tongue along my skin. His fingers advance to my waist then up my pink bra. He plays with the lace at the edge of the cups, causing my nipples to tighten. Warmth pools between my legs with his thumbs gliding against my nipples. I buck my hips back into his and he grins against my shoulder.

“You need this.”

“Timo… we can’t.” I try to protest. He spins me in his arms so I am forced to look at him. The sexy desire ghosting his face has my last shred of will power disappearing like the rest of the world. 

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He challenges, lips ghosting over mine, invading my space just enough that the buzz increases in my ears. “Tell me.” He commands, lips brushing mine again. My eyes close completely involuntarily. I lean forward to seal his mouth with mine. He moans immediately into my mouth. 

“Nico could-”

“He won’t.” Timo insists. “We’ve got at least an hour.”

His tongue swipes into my mouth, rolling and melding with mine. He tastes so good, like familiarity and bad decisions. I weave my fingers into the short hair at the back of his head, gripping him tightly to my mouth.

“Fuck, I want you so bad.” I whisper harshly to him when I have to breathe.

“Yeah. You been missing me?” He asks, tilting his head back to watch my face as he guides his hand between my legs. He takes my moan as a yes. “I want you in my bed.” He murmurs, slapping my ass and turning me towards the hallway.

We practically run down the hall. I turn when I get to the bed and he shoves me down. I wrap my arms around his strong shoulders, pulling our bodies flush together. Timo slides a hand along my outer thigh, bringing my knee up so it wraps around his waist. He grinds his erection into my heat, rutting against me until I pull away to moan loudly.

“Off.” I whine, shoving at his suit jacket. He shimmies it off with the help of my hands, then we both work on the buttons of his dress shirt. I start at the bottom, teasing his thickness with my fingers as I work the shirt from his pants. My fingers fumble with the buttons.

“Take your clothes off.” He begs me. My eyes meet his and I can see the desperation brewing. I grin back at him, reaching forward to nip at his lips. He stops his undressing to stuff my mouth with his tongue. “You taste incredible. I crave your mouth when you’re not with me.” Warmth fills my cheeks at his confession. I tug my shirt over my body, then reach around to unclasp my bra. It falls between us as Timo removes his shirt.

He leans forward, lapping at my hard nipple. He sucks it into his mouth as I lay back, letting out a loud moan. I surrender to him completely as he works me over. Dashes of pleasure work down to my pussy, making my walls clench together desperately around nothing. 

“I need you.” I whimper, opening my eyes so he can see the urgency there. He pauses, teasing me again with his tongue before his skilled fingers work my jeans from me. He leaves my panties on, sliding them to the side so he can circle my clit. I wiggle against his finger, grunting out in eagerness as he tests my entrance. I contract around his finger. The teasing ceases immediately when he feels how wet I am. In one fluid motion, he flips me to my stomach. After he removes my panties, I go to my knees, tossing my hair back and waiting patiently for him to fill me.

“Condom?” He asks behind me. I can hear the foil in his fingers. As much as I don’t want a barrier, I know we should be safe.

“Yeah.”

He rolls the latex down, then grips the base of his dick to nudge my folds open. He pushes in gently, taking note of the slight whimper from me. 

“I know.” He rubs my back with his thumbs where he grips my hips. “Good girl.” He praises me as he begins to move steadily in and out. The feeling of his thickness filling me completely has me speechless. My mouth drops open gratefully as I begin to rock back into his thrusts. 

“Yes.” I finally moan. He leans forward, pressing his lips to my shoulder, kissing across to the other as his talented hips work into me unwaveringly slow and deep. “Oh.” I moan as he pulls back up to increase the tempo. He quickens to a steady pound as I collapse forward. My fingers grip his blue sheets into tight fists. The bed begins to rock against the wall, headboard slamming as hard as his hips into me.

“Timo, don’t- don’t stop.” My teeth grit together. My orgasm flutters my inner walls and the pleasure halts his thrusting for a moment. When he resumes, it’s faster and harder, digging me deeper into his bed. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re moaning my name.” He tells me, brushing my hair from my face as I gasp below him. “Want you like this all the time.” He murmurs to me, sliding his fingers around my hip to play with my clit. “It’s been so long since it’s felt this good.” Pleasure flutters in my chest then my inner walls again. "So wet… so tight… nothing like this.” He moans loudly. The more he talks, the closer I know he is. He tightens my knees then encourages me back up. I look up at his ceiling creating just the right angle for us both. Stars explode and ringing bursts into my ears as I come loudly. Moans spill from me relentlessly until he curses behind me, filling the latex surrounding him.

His hand follows my back down to the mattress as I stuff my panting face into the silk sheets. His fingers rub gentle circles as we both come down from our high together. He leans forward, pressing his lips between my shoulder blades while still buried deep inside of me.

“I’ll be right back.” He says, gripping the condom and sliding out. I whine at the emptiness, but crawl up the bed to his pillow. I roll onto my back, dashing my fingers through my hair. I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had. That’s the problem with Timo. He’s too good to quit. And too aloof. Or maybe that was just when he was in San Jose. Maybe with him being in Jersey, things are different. I shake my head, knowing it’s too dangerous to think that way. We can never be something. I’m not giving up my career and life to follow a man around the world while he chases his dream. I’m meant for more.

Timo returns from the bathroom and rolls me over so he can slide in behind me. We spoon, sweaty skin sticking to each other. He kisses the back of my head as I stroke his arm with my red nails. This feels so good. We fit together like the final puzzle pieces in a complex picture.

“How long are you here?”

“Until next Saturday.” He doesn’t respond. “You’ll see me.” I settle the confusion I feel in his touch. He nods.

“Good.” His arms pull me in tighter.

We hold each other in silence like the familiar lovers we are. No expectations, no needless words, just the comfort of each other’s warmth. It’s blissful and I wonder how I’ll be able to let him go.

Only the thought of my brother returning to an empty apartment could pop this bubble.

“Nooooo, I hate when you leave.” He whines as I roll away from him. I stand, stretching out my back and moving to where my clothes were hastily discarded. I reach for my panties, working them up my hips. I toss a smile and sexy look at him over my shoulder. He groans. 

“You should know I came to Jersey with you in mind.” He admits as I pull my jeans back up over my hips. 

“Timo…”

“I know you don’t want anything serious. I’m not ready for that either.” He says as he stands in all his gorgeous nudity. “But you’re it for me, Emma Hischier. So don’t go home and fall in love with someone else.” He tilts my chin up to capture our lips again. 

“Okay.” I whisper against his mouth.

I don’t know why I agree. 

But deep down, I know this is far from my last night with Timo.

[ineffable-endearments]

This is not meta, I'm just venting boringly and feeling very sorry for myself YET AGAIN lol. Season 2 spoilers.

If I'd known for sure. For the past two years. If I'd had a vague idea. "Season 2 will end on a big cliffhanger." "Season 2 will end in a bit of a dark place." "Season 2 is gonna be a tough one."

I'd have experienced some sadness and disappointment on hearing that news, but it would have happened slowly, over time. I'd trade away a few of the deliriously excited moments I've had over the past couple of years in order to soften what I'm feeling now. Of course, that would go against many fans who would have wanted to be totally unspoiled, and it wasn't the way Neil and the rest of the creative team wanted to tell the story, so that's okay. I accept it and can't blame anyone for how they approached it.

Like I said, I did know that act 2 of 3 usually ends with a massive flare-up of conflict. But I'm not a professional storyteller; knowing that fact in the abstract didn't keep me from wondering if maybe you could get around that somehow, or if maybe it could be...mitigated.

Rob did say "it will break your heart." That definitely put me on the alert a bit. But since it wasn't particularly corroborated by anyone else, it was easy for me, in an excited and hopeful state, to wonder if maybe he was talking about something that happens mid-season.

Intellectually, I KNOW how good this development could be for the overall story. I know. I know. But it doesn't fix the uncanny sadness of losing a favorite fantasy - losing something that only ever existed in my head, that is technically still there but feels changed now by this knowledge.

Almost nothing ever seems to get my blood pressure up in a way that I'm conscious of - but this season does. Sometimes, when thinking about it or worrying about the future, I can feel my heart start to pound and the blood rushing up the sides of my throat. Even now, two days later.

What's more, I'm realizing that I am just not very good at catching certain details. I didn't even notice, for example, that Aziraphale and Crowley were on the opposite sides from where they usually are during the ending credits. I completely missed a number of plot threads that were left hanging and didn't even notice a bunch of dialogue that is demonstrably bizarre. I was hoping to do more analysis and probably will continue to do it anyway because I can't help it, but it doesn't feel great knowing that I might be wrong about most things because I am maybe just not that good at analysis.

These characters, Aziraphale and Crowley, really do feel like two halves of me. And I'm stuck with all these massively strong, frankly irrational feelings about where they were left off, fractured.

It's weird having big feelings about this because people in real life don't get it, and they would not be totally unreasonable to wonder why I can't just compartmentalize and let go. My partner and family have been incredibly sweet, have never belittled me for feeling strongly (about anything), and have in fact been very reassuring. But I'm still aware that they would be a bit bemused and maybe concerned if I voiced the continued intensity of my feelings to them.

Anyway. That's what I'm doing here. If you've somehow read to the end, thanks.

[archivallyfound09]

Entering the Villain Era pt. 2

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (f)

Summary: The one where she can dish more than he can handle. And, oh, does he deserve it.

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), drinking (reader is of age), potentially some suggestive situations in the future (none here). SO much angst.

Part One

You sat in your Jeep, the air offering only a slight reprieve from the still warm humid air. Your eyes scanned the parking lot as you picked at the skin around your cuticle on your thumb. Then you spotted him and your whole body froze. Jake Seresin had not been mentioned in the personnel briefs you had received-and you had checked. You felt your jaw tighten as your teeth gritted together, your hands dropping to the steering wheel and grabbing tightly.

Rationally, you knew it wasn't hatred. It was worse. It was embarrassment. It was humiliation. It was anger and hostility- at yourself. You knew you should give yourself a break, you were young and everyone makes mistakes when they're young (especially to a hot, flashy, Navy Pilot who looked at you like you were a gift straight from God himself). But you had spent the last years of your life correcting that mistake. You wouldn't allow yourself to ever make a screw-up like that again.

You knew the stories they told about you. That you had crawled out of hell and, somehow, the U.S. military had convinced you to join sides with them because they knew they wouldn't stand a chance against you. You knew how everyone looked at you: a mix of awe, fear, and avoidance. You wouldn't trade those things for the looks of pity you had received the last time you were-

Your focus snapped back to Jake getting into his truck, your eyes having never stopped marking him as he walked through the parking lot. You took a breath as he turned on the vehicle and peeled out of you sight. You much preferred being the hunter as opposed to the prey- you would never allow yourself to be that again. You had fought too hard, against too many odds, to make it to this position you held. And you really fucking enjoyed it. But it would be just a little bit easier if he wasn't here.

--------

You barely slept through the night, which was not unusual at all. You woke up before your alarm, feet hitting the cool floor of the base housing they had stowed you away in for the next few days. You stretched and headed to the bathroom, catching a hot shower and quickly going about your normal attack routine, because that's exactly what this was now. You were on the offensive on the mission, both the one you had been brought in for and the one you were battling in your head.

You headed out the door early, wanting to be the first instructor around so you could scout everything out. You shouldn't have been surprised to see Maverick's motorcycle there, discovering that he had slept on a cot in the hangar overnight. You rolled your eyes and kicked the small bed, harsh;y jostling him awake. He blinked at you and then you saw a smile on his face. You did not reciprocate as you walked back towards the makeshift classroom.

"Get up, Maverick, I don't want to be here any longer than I need to be."

Maverick was still yawning next to you minutes later as you both took a seat off to the side of the lecture set-up. Some Admirals and other officials joined you- you heard the names and saluted, not remembering any of them. You saw the team start to file in, laughing and chatting casually with each other. You heard the blood rush in your ears and your jaw tightened again, but you turned your gaze to Admiral Simpson next to you as he prattled on about something in the brief that you had already read 6 times.

You felt the eyes start to scan the instructors and freeze on you. Your head was tilted away from the Admiral and you barely straightened your shoulders, sitting straighter than he was. You knew you were the only woman up here. You weren't going to let any of them write you off that easy-especially not the crew of misfit toys sitting in front of you.

As the briefings started, you refused to move your eyes from the podium. You knew the "best of the best" were stealing glances at you, but you decided to pay them no mind, saving your terror and glares for later when they had actually earned them. You saw a tall blond out of the corner of your eye, but he was easier to ignore today than he was yesterday- it was probably because you outranked him and had been steeling yourself against him for just under 12 hours. Last night, he was unexpected and you were out of practice. Today, you were on your A-game.

"...She's our JTAC. It means she's here to make sure everyone makes it home. She'll be calling all simulations and controlling all training, understood?" You broke your eyes away from the podium, looking at the nodding heads, all facing Simpson, too afraid to look at you. You smirked and Maverick elbowed you in the side.

"You're enjoying this too much," he whispered, a smile on his lips that only you could hear.

"I'm enjoying this exactly as much as I deserve," you hissed back, your tone ambiguous and Maverick wasn't sure if you had just cracked a joke or if he was going to have to face your wrath later on in the day. He prayed for the first option as he settled back into his seat.

-----

The next few days passed without much interaction between yourself and the aviators. You sat off to the side, now surrounded only by empty chairs and watched like a hawk every simulation, every question, every discussion. It was part of your job to know exactly how your crew was working. You were responsible for knowing the decisions they were going to make before they even made them; 'hesitation' was no longer a word accepted in your vocabulary.

Soon after the lectures, the live simulations started. You moved your chair so it sat directly central to everyone in the hangar. Whether walking out to the planes or in to take a punishment, each pilot had to pass you. As they continued to fail Maverick's expectations, you saw their curiosity and fear of you start to turn into frustration. You and Maverick had a bet on who would break first. You, of course, easily won that bet (since you were currently trying to learn their thought processes, you weren't sure it was a fair bet).

"Are you going to fucking SAY something?"

The harsh tone and language startled you from your paperwork in your lap. You cooly closed the folder, pulled your sunglasses onto your lap, folding them in the same motion, and slowly dragged your eyes upward to the offending interruption. Jake Seresin had finally lost his cool- the same way he had lost it last time.

Everything flickered around you like an old filmstrip tearing at the end of a recording. Your breath was tight in your chest and you grabbed at your neck, trying to ground any part of yourself that you could. Your feet fell out from underneath you as the apartment door closed quietly behind you. The sob that wracked your body allowed the release of tears and anguish that fell with abandon.

The heaves quickly turned to coughs, deep and wet, forcing a gag every few seconds until you tried to calm yourself down, starting to feel lightheaded. Besides the searing hot pain you felt all over, it slowly began to turn into anger-at yourself. This was not the first time this had happened. It was-well, it was at least the third time, and you couldn't believe you had tried to patch everything up again. Everyone around you had tried to warn you, but you stood by his side and fought all of them, losing most in the process.

You heard the door open slowly behind you, a pair of long legs striding past you with an awkward giggle. You could smell her perfume as she whisked down the stairs and you watched the tears fall from your chin onto the welcome mat beneath you. You felt his presence behind you and you waited, steadying your breath to try and hear him over the pounding of your heart.

"I-" he started awkwardly, "I didn't know you'd be here today."

That had been the lynchpin that had launched you into the person you were today. As you looked up in his eyes, you saw the same emotion: 'I didn't know you'd be here.' Except this time there was no awkwardness-there was anger and hostility. You took a deep breath in through your nose and stood up, you nose almost brushing the front of his flight suit. You turned on your heel and stalked off into the offices at the back of the hangar. You could feel your hands starting to shake, but now was not the time for a confrontation.

You weren't ready.

----

"Hey Hangman?" His head slowly looked up at Maverick as he went down for another pushup. The elder pilot squatted down next to him and spoke quietly, but Rooster heard everything.

"Maybe let's not yell at the woman responsible for keeping your ass alive through this, hm?" Hangman grunted, clearly annoyed as he came up from another pushup. Maverick gave him an unimpressed look with a sigh and then stood up, turning to Hondo.

"100 more for the Hangman. He needs to learn some manners."

You watched from afar. In any other circumstance, you would've laughed at his expense, but this situation was too dire, too volatile. Maverick made his way over to you, a crisp 100 dollar bill folded between his fingers. He held it up and you snatched it without much emotion. He stood next to you, watching as Hangman was left alone to do his pushups.

"You only made him do that because you're pissed about losing a hundred bucks."

Maverick shrugged. "Does it matter?" You shook your head, pocketing the money. "Besides," he continued, "for what he did, 100 pushups in the least I can offer you in reparations." You went deathly silent at his words, gripping the folders in your hands tighter to your chest, your knuckles turning white. You walked out of the room without another word to Maverick and headed out of the hangar, passing Hangman as he hit his 47th pushup.

-----

Part Three

Taglist + a few that liked my other Hangman stuff (let me know if you want tagged or not!) : @alldaysdreamers @ponyboys-sunsets @hopefulinlove @wannabepoe @maverooster @rosiahills22 @ancabifi @multifandom-fangirl4

[myeagleexpert]

The Silence of Seven

↳Synopsis:

❝ The peaceful atmosphere is shattered when Yuu finds one of her friends in a coma of unknown causes. Determined to uncover the truth, Yuu and her friends begin investigating the case and discover a curious pattern that links the victims. But as the investigation progresses, they find themselves in a tangle with powerful enemies, and this time the danger is out of Twisted Wonderland. Yuu and her friends will have to fight against unknown forces to find answers and unravel the mystery before it's too late.❞

↳Notes: Crowly being sus, Trey not handling the loss well, Worried Grim, YUU TEAM CAPTAIN, Leona crumbles because we'll have a proper feast later, short chapter to warm up the next one, always read to the end.

「 Chapter 2: Don't show and tell 」

“Keep this secret, what you saw and heard here must not leave this room. But don't worry, your benevolent director will solve the mystery.”

The scary mask Crowley wore was useless as everyone knew what he meant.

I don't have the slightest idea what's going on. I can't do anything.

Automatically, Yuu felt her shoulders heave as she felt the director's golden orbs collide with her eyes, an unspoken command hit her in the chest.

If you don't fix this, it will be your fault.

.  ˚  . 　　.　　　　  　 ✧

“Deuce! You fool! Not to put that!" Ace complained to the ex-delinquent switching the potions before he poured them into the cauldron

“Oi, Ace…you think I don't know what I'm doing huh?” the already irritated student shook hands in a sign of struggle

“We can't reset one more test, have you forgotten? It is to put fifteen quinzel crystals before boiling and not put quincker crystals afterwards. Yuu tell him!”

Blinking her eyes and turning back to the scene, the girl just monotonously scolded them without even knowing what they were fighting over for the millionth time. And honestly, she didn't care.

“Guys, please.”

Surprised, the boys looked at each other in surprise. Isn't she going to fight with us? So… they went back to sheltering uselessly.

“BAD DOGS”

Taking a few lessons from Crewel, the two quieted down and how puppies with their tails between their paws finished their potions properly was almost funny to watch. But Yuu didn't find it funny at all, nor did he notice when she received the grade, a nice 80/100, Riddle had helped her improve her grades. Her gaze stuck out the window, with thoughts that wandered between hypotheses and nowhere. She was still shocked by yesterday, she hadn't digested the situation as well as Carter, this one, hid his emotions from him for years, and as much as Riddle's situation was disturbing, it just swept more sand under the rug.

Time seemed crazy to the girl today, disconnected, in loopings, in vacuums, she didn't seem to have the notion of how time passed and when she blinked her eyes she was already in the most precious time for grim: the lunch break!

“Aah…henchman, aren't you going to eat?”

They had arrived early today, the line was short, the delicious snacks were hot and they didn't fight with anyone on the way! Everything that never happens to their beautiful bad luck is happening today! Luck is on our side today! What intrigues the feline monster the most is that…just today Yuu doesn't want to eat! As much as Grim considered the missing as a friend, he wasn't worried about the tyrant, he was worried about Yuu who didn't even look at the mouth-watering, tasty meat Ruggie brought them, at Leona's behest.

“I'm kinda not hungry.” with a calm and tired smile the girl smiled at her friends, who studied her form.

"You better eat Yuu, you looks pale." - the beastman friend of the group, Jack was the first to mention causing Grim to stop eating his tuna so quickly.

“Hechmaaaan, do you want to trade the tuna with me? The Great and Powerful Grim won't let his henchman go hungry! Enjoy the special treatment, I only do it for you!”

“Thanks Grim, they look delicious but…I'm not hungry right now. BUT so you don’t get worried, I’m going to drink this juice ok?”

Juice taken, Yuu changes the subject and changes to a more lively tone of voice trying to make them not insist anymore, she invented the excuse of going to prepare for flight training to be alone walking quickly to the bathroom, Grim accompanied her, along with with painful sequences of memories.

“What do you think it could be?”

“I don't know, I've never seen anything like it. It must have been something really strong to catch him off guard and leave him with…”

“Are you bored? Then you might as well study the laws of Queen of Hearts.” “What if we studied something else? I really wanted your opinion on this matter.”

-Hello? It's Yuu, all right senpai? -A-ahh Yuu, I need you to come to the dorm now!

“You are so mysterious, everyone is afraid of me, but not you. It's not like I'm accepting your ways or anything."

“There were no signs of violence on the body, no spell fighting, no signs of poisoning….”

"Let's settle this, guys."

If you don't fix this, it will be your fault.

Washing her face, Yuu hoped that the water from the tap would wash away her disorganized thoughts, just like her uniform that she wore without even paying attention, putting her left arm on her right and missing several buttons. Regretfully, she sighed heavily.

“Yuu-chan! I found you~” a heavy hand touches the girl's shoulder who screams as she recognizes the voice “Carter-senpai!!”

Pulling her into a hug, her senpai whispers coldly in her ear....

“You are not disguising yourself well, dear kouhai. I know it's sad, but you need to be strong. Its gonna be alright, okay?"

Oh yeah.

No one is to know what happens to Riddle.

Trey busied himself spreading the lie that Heartabell's dorm-leader had to return home indefinitely, and everyone knows that Riddle's mother is a woman not to be disputed, and everyone swallowed the sweet lies exclaiming the how nice the air would be without Riddle.

As sweet as his cakes were, Trey couldn't get the guilty bitterness out of his mouth. For the second time, he wasn't there for his childhood best friend when he needed him most. He locked himself in his office, amid papers and regrets.

"So let's go?" Returning to his usual spirit, the redhead kindly organized the girl's uniform without magic, which organized her thoughts, stifling them in some dark corner of her mind and, like Carter, putting on a beautiful mask, smiling and waving to the world.

“If you wanna ask for advice for flying you should ask Carter instead of me. He has a great sense of balance.”

.  ˚  . 　　.　　　　  　 ✧

“Look look who arrived!” “About time!”

His friends were already waiting for them in the field, warming up and lining up brooms. As celebrities, the overboot destroyer girl, the magican freak, and the monster cat arrived on the field and were greeted by not only their friends, but some admirers as well.

“Hey Yuu! Here- Ace shouted waving to the girl who ran towards him. “Yuu, can I join you guys?” a beastman ounce stopped her on the way, he clearly didn't need help. Did you see those muscles? That agility? What do you want with us?

“Can I too?” ‘I’ll go along, I won’t be alone!

Ace complained to Deuce, with these unknown students wanting to steal Yuu's attention all to themselves.

But Ace wasn't the only heartbreaker who couldn't get a little piece of Yuu's attention, a certain second prince had followed the female figure with his gaze from the moment she touched foot on the field.

“Let's start!”- Vargas shouted manly and a whistle was blown

The theory given was the time for practice. While Vargas was checking group by group the evolution and flight of each one, the students who had already been released and those who were waiting were left loose in the wind, without having much to do.

Um, magical teens with magic brooms in their spare time. What can go wrong?

The group of 5, became 8, which became 13, which became 20 and when Yuu saw it there was already a separate team to play some kind of tag game on these brooms. It was a mixture of elements of the famous spell drive with children's games

"Get him Epel!"- Yuu, the captain of the team, shouted to the spell drive player, he certainly knows the techniques to catch the jaguar that stole the ball from them. “I will now!!” the lilac-haired one flew fast and high, trying to reach an Octaville student who was using his reflexes to throw the ball far to a cat beastman

"Deuce! Cat!" commanded the girl, guarding the goal, next to Grim who held on with all his strength to the broom. For those who didn't eat anything it's pretty excited, huh, mentally Grim had already pushed Yuu off the broom because he did know how to score the goal..his words.

With all the speed and breath he had, Deuce flew quickly towards the beastman cat, this one with such agility escaped from all the ambushes that the ex-delinquent tried to take him, the ball seemed to enjoy being on the rival team.

We gonna loose.

“Ace, come over here!” Yuu was famous for having unpredictable actions and making a substitution in the middle of the game, changing from goalkeeper to striker, was something..different.

With Trappola in her place and Grimm at her back, Yuu identifies where the ball is. A jaguar is staring at her, he's the only one who noticed that she's going to play defensively now, exchanging defiant smiles the girl starts moving so diligently and fleetingly dodging her opponents and heading towards the ball, that Grim starts to dig its claws into its back like a scared cat that refuses to go to the vet.

“We will win, minion!” but he still supported her.

The sight of an unbridled flash chasing the ball was seen and heard on the field, the jaguar was good, ambitious to get the ball into the goal, but Yuu was quick, determined to win the game. The two literally played like cat and dog, cat and mouse and—- ohhh by the seven!

By changing strategy, Yuu “disappears” from the jaguar's field of vision, attacking from below and stealing the ball from him! And the opposing students chase her, she, who just flies higher and higher and faster, making sudden turns and then gaining space and angle for the much desired goal.

We will win.

Utilizing the same technique that Yuu used, a Scarabia student steals the ball from under Yuu causing her to lose her balance and fall off her broom.

“AAAAAAH!!””

With the world spinning and already out of air, it looked like Yuu's friends wouldn't catch her in time.

“HENCHMAAN!” “YUU!” “KANKANTOU-CHAN!”

The higher the top, the greater the fall. How ironic.

Before she fell to the hard floor, strong arms rescued her and held her in bridal style, trapping into a strong, warm chest.

Leona holds the girl in his arms, both breathing fast with adrenaline. Hearts beating so fast. He traces his fingers gently across the girl's soft cheek, and taking advantage of having saved her from a big fall, he uses it as an excuse to hold her closer, for longer, sinking his nose into the girl's neck, who even stunned felt they were going down.

Even as she touched the ground, Leona was too caught up in this moment, in the touch and the opportunity to get her closer.

“Aah, Leona… I'm fine now, thanks.” light pats were given to bring the lion out of his trance, who, when he realized that his annoying friends were approaching, dropped Yuu carefully to the ground, checking for any other injuries.

"Be careful." the forcefully angry voice did not reach Yuu's ears, still dizzy from the fall, she did not notice that Leona was running her hand through her hair, stroking it—putting the strands in place. Her hair was all messed up from the wind ok?

Stupid Herbivore

Yuu thanked the leader of the beasts' dormitory, apologizing for the inconvenience and running back to her friends, who were anxiously waiting for a new match. Except for Grim, who groaned at the strong scent of lion on his friend's uniform.

 ︵︵⸙︵︵

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[sergeifyodorov]

I'm a new jets fan and I am sooo curious about your post about the locket room being toxic. is it just a vibe or is there actually known fueds between players?

okay i am going to state that the majority of this is hearsay/gossip, but here's a few things i can state fairly confidently

evander kane (noted ex-jet and ex-shark, current oiler) was not liked in the locker room, at least by dustin byfuglien (who i will shortly refer to as "buff," a nickname of his)

buff was an F/D for the jets/thrashers, and an alternate captain for them as well as a perennial all-star. there is an actual photo of him flipping off evander, so this feud is the least alleged thing about the Jetsuation (jets situation). right before the pandemic buff was granted a leave of absence and then a contract termination -- the rumours about this are twofold; one, that his body was breaking down (he was frequently injured so there's almost certainly truth to this) and two, that he was Not Friends with blake wheeler/mark schiefele

mark schiefele was essentially a co-captain, from what i can tell (now that wheeler is a] stripped of the captaincy b] a ranger and c] not long for the nhl, i imagine they might Name him), and is known to be firstly, an evangelical Christian (no hate, but, like, if you don't work in the church and your christianity is more than two lines in your wikipedia page? harshes the vibes) and secondly, kind of an asshole.

blake wheeler was, up until the 2022-23 season, the captain of the jets. they stripped him of the C in the offseason. he was good friends/allies with schiefele. he is apparently at least a democrat though so that's cool. what's uncool is the uh

THE PATRIK LAINE SITUATION

it's 2016. the jets have sucked ass and now have the second overall pick. they pick patrik laine, a winger with a great shot and some serious star potential

laine is a favourite pretty much instantly, scoring 36 goals as an eighteen-year-old rookie and 44 the year after. he's not twenty and arguably one of the best players winnipeg has ever had. quiet, even-keel, fashionable.

there's some contract struggles in there, including a stint where he went to switzerland as an rfa, but he comes back, signs a very short contract, we move.

gets hurt in december, before he comes back from it he's traded to columbus.

a little bit later, rumours come out -- blake wheeler (also a winger) was jealous of his skill, wanted the ice-time and the glory, and mark schiefele, the best centre on the team, wanted to play only with wheeler, not laine. rumours say the two of them bullied him to his face, talked about him behind his back, and the then-coach (paul maurice iirc) just sat there and let it happen (although maurice has stated he regrets not intervening). after this, laine allegedly requests a trade

so yeah

beyond The Patrik Laine Situation there's just rumours of them not liking each other at all; on paper they should be a comfortable away playoffs team, a 3-seed or a comfy wild card, but in practice they're a wild-card team at best -- they were up there in the division for a few months last year, but seriously crashed and burned as soon as january rolls around. there are seemingly yearly soundbites of them going "well, we just don't like each other all that much," and everyone always seems to want out (although that might be winnipeg the city more than winnipeg the team.)

i will leave you with one old alleged anecdote: some reddit guy once went to a party (or a concert? maybe a restaurant or club?) where the jets were, and instead of socializing, talking to each other, they were apparently all just sitting around in silence not really lookin at each other at all