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#Gun for hire (1)
holylulusworld · 14 days
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Gun for hire (1)
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Summary: You’re his next target. Nothing else. Right?
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader
Warnings: hiring a killer, Lloyd being Lloyd, being followed, sunshine reader
Gun for hire (Prologue)
Gun for hire masterlist
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Lloyd curses himself once again.
He still didn’t get his money. His newest client is an annoying piece of shit. And on top of the pile of shit, this assignment turned into, the exotic beard wax he wanted to order was sold out.
In other words. Lloyd Hansen is fucking livid. 
This doesn’t keep him from following his latest target around town.
So far you went to work, bought a muffin on your way to the library, and talked to the librarian for half an hour.
Lloyd yawns, bored beyond belief. He never followed such a boring person. Most of the people he killed were criminals, or at least interesting. You’re just…too nice.
You made it your mission to visit the elderly librarian every day after work to make sure she gets her extra portion of sugar – hence the muffin you bought. Plus, you try to make her feel needed by asking questions about books you already read.
He’s close to calling it a day when a man walks past you and the librarian. The man bumps into your side and has the guts to yell at you.
Lloyd pokes his head around the shelf he is hiding behind to watch you smile at the man. He can’t believe that you smile at a man yelling at you not moments ago.
“Crazy,” he concludes but decides to watch you for a little longer. Assignment or not, he’s got nothing better to do today.
“Sir,” you carefully pat the man’s arm while you speak to him in a low, but soft tone. “Your day must have been hard.” You batt your eyelashes, and smile again. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been so rude, right?” 
The man suddenly smiles and apologizes repeatedly. The man’s whole demeanor changed so suddenly Lloyd could not believe his eyes.
“Drugs maybe…or a hidden gun?” Lloyd wonders. No man ever changed their opinion so fast without being under the influence of drugs, or in danger. “That woman must be the devil in disguise or something. She must be more dangerous than I first thought.”
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“Come on, do something more exciting,” Lloyd grunts as your daily routine drives him up the walls. He looks at his notes again and sighs deeply. 
He rereads his notes and tries to find new information.
“Work. Buying something sweet for Grace, the elderly librarian. Talking to said librarian for half an hour. Going home. Watching TV.”
This is not how imagined his Friday night would look like. He wanted to spend it at his favorite strip club, a pretty girl’s mouth wrapped around his dick.
“She’s so…” he rubs his tired eyes, “boring. I can’t believe someone wants to kill her.” Lloyd ignores the kink in his neck and his burning eyes, or the fact that he’s watching you giggle at something your elderly neighbor said. “I hate her so much.” 
He could just end your life or call it a day, but he keeps on watching you smile and giggle. “She’s a fucking ray of sunshine. What the fuck!”
Lloyd shakes his head. Today someone spilled coffee all over your pretty sundress. Your boss yelled at you. And you lost your phone.
Nothing seems to ruin your mood. You are still laughing and joking with your neighbor.
“I should just go over there and kill them both. Less headache for me – a house and a car for my client,” Lloyd is tempted to get his gun and silencer out to shoot you and your neighbor. “Maybe later. I need to unlock her phone first…”
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Lloyd rolls his eyes while scrolling through your phone. There are mostly pictures of bees, flowers, and cake on your phone. No interesting or naughty stuff. 
“This woman can’t be real. She buys sweets for the librarian; cooks soup for her sick neighbor and has a fucking insect hotel on her veranda. She’s crazy…this must be it.” 
He nods to himself. “I need to find out more about her. Maybe some files are password-protected. I know she’s hiding shit from me.”
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“Boss, it’s two weeks,” one of Lloyd’s men dares to say. “He didn’t pay.” The man clears his throat. “The woman is still alive too. What is your plan?”
“I need to find out more about her,” Lloyd grunts. He doesn’t need one of his bootlickers to sniff around and find out Lloyd is following you because he’s fascinated and a little grossed out by your bubbly personality.
Your friendliness is hard to stomach, and he wants to find at least one thing you try to hide before he kills you.
“Boss, he didn’t pay,” the man insists. “We don’t work for free. That’s rule number—” A gunshot ends the man’s life. 
“Rule number four is to never doubt me and my decisions,” Lloyd sneers at the dead man on the ground. He snaps his fingers at one of the others. “Clean this up. I got a job to do.”
“Boss…” the man nods and goes to work.
“And bring me her boyfriend. He broke our contract and didn’t pay me a single buck. I want to know why he believes he can fuck with Lloyd fucking Hansen.”
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“What are you doing at my house?” You take a step back. A stranger is standing in your living room, a gun with a silencer aimed at your head. “Oh…Tommie.” You shake your head and sigh. “He’s such an unhappy man.”
Lloyd cocks a brow at your reaction. You don’t scream or beg. Instead, you are concerned about your ex-boyfriend.
“He doesn’t have the money to pay me back for the house and car,” you conclude and nod to yourself. “But he has the money to pay you?”
You take a step toward Lloyd, taking him by surprise. He backpaddles and aims his gun back at you.
“You don’t look like a guy he found on the street and paid him twenty bucks. You look like a…” You tilt your head to look the man in front of you up and down, “professional.”
“Sorry, but you got to go…” He murmurs, wondering a little about his words. It’s the first time he said more to a target than hello and goodbye.
“Uh-okay,” you wring your hands. “I just ordered takeout. Can I eat it before you kill me?” You cock a brow. “You know, the whole last meal thing and stuff. I got dessert too. Please don’t let me die hungry.”
Lloyd is stunned. No target ever accepted their fate without fighting back. Most of them at least begged and pleaded or offered more money.
“You can have some dessert too,” you softly say. “I guess in your line of business you don’t often get invited.” You giggle. “You know, because you kill all of your clients.”
“I don’t kill my clients,” he sighs. “Fine, have your last meal. You are giving me a fucking headache, sunshine.”
“Aw, that’s a cute nickname,” you point out. “Do you call your girlfriend that too?” You ask while walking past Lloyd. “I’m going to eat now. Please don’t shoot me before I finish my meal.”
“Just shut up,” he grunts and follows you inside the kitchen. “Why are you not screaming or throwing a tantrum?”
You shrug. “We all must die one day. Right?” Watching Lloyd, you smile. “Please don’t shoot me in the face. Someone must identify me, and I don’t want them to see me like that.”
“You always think about others first.” 
He watches you prepare two plates of food. You watch him watching you. He cocks a brow, believing you will try to trick him. “It’s not poisoned. I’ll eat it too.”
“Do you want to sort things out first?”
“I got everything sorted out,” you smile. “I’m just worried about my neighbor and the stray cat I feed. They are both old and need help.”
Lloyd shakes his head. “You must be crazy thinking about others while a stranger threatens to kill you.”
“I thought you wanted to kill me, not just threaten me,” you round the counter to place a plate close to him. “I didn’t take you for someone making empty promises.” You run your fingertips over the hand holding the gun and smile. “Right. Mr.…?”
“Lloyd,” he says and drops his eyes to your finger running over his hand. “Are you flirting with me?”
You look him straight in the eyes and smile. “Why would I flirt with my executioner?”
Gun for hire (2)
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Tags in reblog.
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bolides · 2 years
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reply to @curseofbreadbear​ (here!)
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“...freddy? you alright?” concern colors the guard’s features, and a hand rests gently on the bear’s shoulder. probably a big mistake, if she’s not lucky. “you sound off. is your battery low?”
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jonberry555 · 1 year
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Character Flaws & Antagonists revolve around the Past #starwars #themandalorian #shorts
PART 1:
PART 2:
Character Flaws and Antagonists revolve around the Being Stuck in the Past as seen in Star Wars - The Mandalorian Chapter 22, Season 3 Episode 6 - Guns for Hire.
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badgertracksart · 10 months
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Portfolio advice, from a lead who hires Concept Artists
(This was originally a twitter thread I wrote before the site self imolated, hense it's strange structure.) I wrote this after a weekend of portfolio reviews - 1. Like a maths exam, please please show your working. I want to see thumbs options, mid options and of course a final design.
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2. Arrange your portfolio, I don't want to bounce about between subject matter and pipeline. Your portfolio's narrative should be as strong as your work... 3. Please make worlds that excite the viewer, make them want to go in and explore them, explain to them the interesting parts of the town, or the way the character's hat unfolds. How will this draw the viewer in? 4. As I've said before the majority of your project work is explanatory not mood, make sure your portfolio contains explanatory work. Explained here -
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5. A lot of beautiful post apocolyptic paintings, , but 80% of realistic games and film, we just give the environment artists photo ref, they are capable artists in their own right. Different work in stylised where you do need to create rules for how things can be translated. 6. Production art contains call out sheets, material references and flat graphics. This doesn't have to be your final image, but it should support it.
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7. Design characters on a swatch(es) of the environment they will be viewed in. Not on white. I make swatch backgrounds from screenshots, it avoids assumptions that damage readability. 8. Reverse of this, put people in your environments, show me the scale.
9. It's not a deal breaker for a review, but if you intend to get a job, please show me your work on a screen larger than a smartphone (print outs probably the cheapest option with the best battery life). 10. Please have your contact details clearly visible, and by that I mean email address, I will not pass your social media contact on, I cannot input your form into my tracking system. EMAIL ADDRESS emblazoned and bake it in, sometimes recruiters do funky stuff to pdfs
11. Your portfolio will never feel done, not to you anyway. You will have learnt from your latest pieces and want to apply it to older work. But we know art is a journey. Send your portfolio anyway. I've been in the industry 10+ years and my portfolio is still not 'finished'. 12. If you are applying to an environment centric Concept Art position then please vary your times of day! Golden hour is cool but show me some happy sunny days, looming overcast days, what about at night? Vary your weather too! Sunny snowy day? Rainy Spring day? Stormy night?
13. If you are applying for a character centric Concept Art role then please ensure your portfolio shows a variety of body types and ethnicities. 14. Designing characters for games? Please show back views and feet (!) Many potfolios contain only front views. This is a problem because:
You haven't shown you are considering the design from all angles.
In many games rear view is the main view.
Stop cropping feet.
15. If you are entry / graduating and looking at Portfolios to compare content and standard of yr own work too, look at hired grad/junior artists as opposed to seniors Seniors and leads often have old or personal work in their portfolio which isnt representative of the day job. 16a. Show clearly the intended use case for your Concept Art. Mention the game type in the description. Are these player character designs for a 3rd person adventure game? Then more back views please. Bonus points for diagetic ways of showing health / equipment / role etc.
16b. Are these designs for an FPS? Then really the player view of the gun needs to sell the player style/ choices, in an FPS your weapons are almost your character. Are these world designs? What's the view distance? For an RTS your shapes need to read from above & a distance. 16c. The lack of clarification means I am judging the design in isolation, which both harms the design (you might be considering the backview of a char as the main adventure character.) Or an NPC, their waist up expressions may be important for conveying exposition and mechanics.
16d. Concept art is not separate from gameplay, great concept art serves the game team before it is a good illustration.
17. Play games. A variety of games. Think about them. IMO to be a good concept artist you need to understand the common language & references used by your peers. Also understand the principles and common language your audience are used to. FPS design rules are v.diff from RTS.
18. There are many skills that are needed in concept art, please show them. For example: Graphic design - logos, liveries, typographic use etc. VFX concepts - Abilities, Ambience, motion concepts. Architectural knowledge - How buildings are built! & more but I'm out of space :O
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rynbutt · 2 months
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pierced. pt.2 | spencer reid.
When you hadn't heard from Spencer in 3 weeks you thought you'd jumped the gun a bit... Or maybe he was just nervous.
pt. 1 | pt. 3 | pt. 4
cw: fem!reader, mentions of periods, mentions of alcohol, kissing, fluffy <3
a/n: i got carried away :,)
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The bar bathroom smelled of booze, sweat and another third thing you’d rather not think about.
You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, leaning over the sink to fix your lipstick with your finger and thumb. You fished around in your purse, pulling out the black tube of lipstick and plucking the cap off. You puckered your lips, admiring the matte colour in the smudged bathroom mirror that you dare not touch.
You were trying to be social for a change, perhaps meet some new people and make some new friends. After all, you didn’t know anyone and the cute FBI agent you met and gave your number to hadn’t called you since your interaction 3 weeks ago. You tried not to mull over it but you thought you landed a cutie, thinking he found you attractive too; he did find your boobs fascinating, the least he could do was buy you a drink. 
A pub crawl probably wasn’t the best place to start with making friends, it wasn’t really your thing. But after some of the new hires who started along with you invited you out to a pub crawl (you just happened to be sitting in the break room at the same time) you decided to just give it a shot. You soldiered through dinner and the first two bars you followed them along to, but when they left without you at the third, you were ready to down one more drink, call a cab and curl up with Tofu on the couch. 
You leaned over the sink, adjusting your black mini dress over your shoulders before grabbing your purse, letting out a tired sigh at your failed attempt at establishing some much needed friendships in this huge city.
“Shit, shit, shit! No-” A woman cursed from the stall behind you, sounding like she was rifling through her purse. 
“Are you okay?” You asked softly, knocking on the stall door.
“Oh, uhm, yeah… actually, do you have a tampon or something?” She asked quietly, seeming embarrassed.
“Shit, yeah, I do,” you quickly said, rifling through your purse for your stash of pads and tampons. A must whenever you go to bars, you never know when you or someone else will need it. “Here,” reached over the stall door, holding it as far out as you could for her. 
“Oh my god, thank you, you’re an angel,” she breathed a sigh of relief, taking the tampon from you. 
“Don’t worry about it,” you smiled to yourself.
“I’m going to get you a drink as a thank you.”
You chuckled softly, “oh, please. It’s really no trouble.”
“Ah- ta ta ta, I insist,” she retorted. 
Maybe you would make a friend tonight.
You stood by the basins as she flushed and pulled the stall door open. She wore bright pink heels and her hair sat in perfect curls over her shoulders, with thick glasses perched on her nose. She exuded sweetness. 
She smiled at you sweetly, “you’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s all good, I always have extra on me,” you grinned. “Just in case.”
“I like where your head’s at. The one time I didn’t bring my normal purse,” she laughed, washing her hands with the miniscule amount of soap left. “I’m Penelope Garcia,” she stuck her hand out for you to shake.
You shook her hand, “Y/N L/N.”
“I love your dress, you look gorgeous,” Penelope said, the two of you leaving the grotty bathroom together. You glanced down at your black mini dress, smiling to yourself at the compliment.
It had been a while since you broke it out of your closet. It was your favourite though, hugged your curves perfectly and had long sleeves that kept you warm but a deep neckline to show off your cleavage. 
“Thank you, it’s been a while since I’ve worn it.” You replied, letting Penelope link her arm around yours as she ushered you to the bar through the crowd of people. 
“Do you have a boyfriend?” she suddenly asked. 
You laughed at her abrupt question. “No… Why, you got a cute friend?”
“I do!” She exclaimed excitedly, making you chuckle. “He’s real sweet, you should totally hang out with us… That’s if you’re not here with anyone?”
“No, no, I’m not. Well, I was, but they left-”
“Without you?!”
“I don’t know them that well, it’s fine. I mean I just moved here.”
“But girl code? You never leave a girl by herself in a bar,” Penelope said, clutching her necklace, she seemed far more offended than you were. 
You and Penelope continued to talk and laugh at the bar while you waited for the line at the bar to subside. She asked you all about how you liked moving here and when you told her about your cat Tofu, she insisted on seeing photos. She bought you a tequila sunrise and ushered you over to the booth she said her friends were sitting at.
“Everyone, this is Y/N, she just saved my life,” Penelope exaggerated, introducing you to the very official looking group of people seated in the booth. 
But you lost interest in them quickly when you spotted Spencer Reid, the man who apparently doesn’t own a phone. 
“Oh, hey,” you said, your voice raising an octave as you pointed at Spencer. 
Spencer furrowed his brows, almost not recognising you without your tight baby blue tank on, “Y/N?”
“It’s Dr. Can’t Call Back,” you teased. The man you recognised as Agent Morgan let out a laugh, clapping a hand over Spencer’s shoulder.
“Wait, you know Reid?” Penelope asked.
“She lived in the apartment across from a crime scene, we interviewed her,” Morgan explained before staring down Spencer, “And little boy wonder managed to get her number and didn’t call her.”
“What!” Penelope exclaimed. “She’s hot!”
You covered your mouth as you laughed, “I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m sure he only took my number to be polite.”
“Oh he did not,” A blonde woman laughed. “He talked about it for days.”
“Oh, really?” You raised a brow at Spencer, who was almost beet red at the sudden spotlight on him. Penelope ushered you next to Spencer into the booth, the two of you pressed together between Morgan and the blonde woman.
“Yeah he did, couldn’t get him to shut up,” Another woman with dark hair said.
“I was going to call you,” Spencer said defensively. “But I got busy-”
“More like nervous,” Morgan retorted with a laugh.
Spencer sunk into the plush leather of the couch and you spent the next hour learning everyone’s names and learning that they were all in the FBI. Now that they knew who you were, there goes your chances of being a sexy drug lord.
It was nice to feel included, everyone asking you about your new job, where you grew up, what you liked about moving here, you finally made some new friends. Penelope sealed the deal when she gave you her number, promising to take you to lunch some time to thank you for your heroic act in saving her.
You glanced at Spencer as he shifted uncomfortably next to you, “you wanna get a drink?” you asked, attempting to get him away from everyone and talk to him. 
He nervously moved some of his hair out of his face, “Yeah…Yeah sure,” he replied quietly, a slight nervousness in his voice.
The two of you slid out of the booth and you grabbed his hand as you pulled him to the bar. His hands were clammy with nervousness but he didn’t let go of your hand until you dropped his hand, leaning on the bar.
“So…”
“I was going to call you. I really was,” he said quickly, letting out a shaky breath.
You laughed at his nervousness, “It’s okay, Dr. Reid. I’m not holding it against you.”
“Spencer,” he corrected. 
“Right,” you smiled, “Spencer.”
“Here, look,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket along with the note you left him, which was cute, considering it kept it on him for this long. He glanced at the note and quickly dialled your number. Your phone buzzed in your purse and you answered the call. “There, now you have my number.”
“Nice save, pretty boy,” you saved his number in your phone, typing his name into your phone along with a little heart. 
“...You look… very nice,” he said nervously, shoving his hands in his pockets.
You grinned coyly at him, “thank you. You look very handsome yourself. Though, I feel like you always look like that,” you flirted.
“I try to look presentable,” he replied, not really picking up on your flirting tone. “I have an important job.”
“Of course,” You laughed lightly, your fingers reaching up to gently fix his collar. Your fingers grazed the side of his neck and his breath caught in his throat, gulping back the lump of nervousness that formed. You were really pretty, someone he considered way out of his league. 
After you gave him your number, he spent the entire car ride back to the BAU staring at it, heart thumping loudly in his ears at the idea of seeing you again. He tried calling your number a couple of times and got nervous because he had no idea what to say. Would he ask you on a date? Obviously. But what do people do on dates? He had to be assertive, come up with something and be confident, but his mind went blank staring at your number. And wikihow really wasn’t helping.
“Hey guys, we’re off,” Emily walked over to you and Spencer at the bar. “Hotch’s hailing a cab.”
“Oh, right. Do you need a cab? I-I can cover it,” Spencer looked at you, reaching for his wallet.
“I live nearby actually, it’s just a couple blocks away. I’ll just walk,” you smiled. 
Emily frowned at you, “this late? That’s not safe.”
“I’ll walk her,” Spencer quickly said. “I’ll catch a cab from her place.”
“Oh, Spencer, you don’t have to do that,” you squeezed his forearm.
Spencer waved you off, “it’s safer if I walk you home.”
Emily glanced between the two of you with squinted eyes. She smiled cheekily, wiggling her brows at Spencer, “...be safe.”
Spencer scoffed at her implication, making you giggle. You picked your purse up off the bar stool and let Spencer lead you out of the bar. You said goodbye to Penelope and JJ, waving the rest of them down as Spencer waited for you to say goodbye.
“Keep him safe, pretty girl!” Derek called from the cab window.
“Will do!” You chuckled.
The more you thought about it, the more you realised it was probably a good idea Spencer was walking you home. You had learned a lot about your new home over the last 3 weeks but having Spencer, who you came to understand was a bit of a genius, proved to be very convenient. Spencer seemed to know where he was going more than you did, you just followed along next to him, your shoulders occasionally bumping. 
“How long have you been in the FBI?” You asked, linking your arm with his. He nervously let you do so but you could feel him tense under your touch. “This okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay… Uh, I’ve been in the FBI for four years, two months and two weeks exactly,” he replied, “...Eidetic memory, I tend to keep track of that kind of stuff.”
“Mmm, I’ve always had a thing for dorks,” you flirted with an airy laugh.
“I’m not a dork,” he retorted defensively through a laugh.
You looked up at him, “Only joking, Spence. Intelligence is attractive.”
He beamed internally at the nickname. Sure, JJ called him Spence, but it sounded like honey when you said it, made his heart race and his skin run hot. The two of you walked in comfortable silence and you yawned quietly, not realising how tired you were until you left the overstimulating environment of the bar.
He walked you up the steps of your apartment building, waiting for you to take out your card that let you into the building. You pulled the door open and Spencer reached to hold it open for you. You paused, turning to face him.
“Thank you for walking me home. I really appreciate it,” you smiled. 
“It’s okay, I wanted to make sure you were safe,” he replied, exuding a kind of nervousness he wasn’t before. 
You laughed lightly at how adorable he was before pressing up on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He tensed under your touch but soon relaxed. You pulled away and began laughing, “Oh shit, I got lipstick on your cheek.”
You pulled your sleeve over your finger and began smudging it away. Spencer suddenly grabbed your wrist softly, taking a deep breath of courage and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You barely had time to register it and as soon as it started it was over and he pulled away, cheeks red with embarrassment.
“I… I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “Shit-”
“Woah, Spence. It’s okay,” you grabbed his hands, trying to recapture his attention as his eyes stared at everything but you. “Hey.”
“I don’t know why I did that,” he laughed nervously.
“...Maybe you should kiss me again?” You suggested, doe eyes staring up at him. His breath caught in his throat as you leaned up again, arms hooking around his neck as your lips brushed his softly. Your voice was quiet when you spoke, “Do you want to kiss me again, Spencer Reid?”
“...Yeah,” he muttered out. You grinned before leaning in to kiss him, hands cupping his face as his hands landed on your waist nervously. He kissed you with a gentleness that left you dizzy. He was clearly nervous but you stroked his cheekbones with your thumbs as he deepened the kiss, tilting your head back like he wanted to consume you. 
He pulled away, forehead resting against yours. You laughed gently at the smear of lipstick over his lips, your thumb coming to rub it off as best you could.
“Mm, that colour suits you,” you chuckled. He let out a breath of a laugh as he pulled away from you, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “I don’t usually kiss men I haven’t even gone on a date with.”
“Well, I don’t kiss girls… end of sentence,” he replied.
You laughed at his response, unhooking your arms from his neck and stepping into your apartment building. “Well, you’re good at it, Spence. I wouldn’t worry.”
“Well… Will I see you some time?” 
“Call me back first,” you teased.
Spencer stared at the pavement and laughed nervously, letting you kiss his cheek one more time before you left him at the door of your apartment building, heading to the elevator. You waved at him as the elevator dinged and he waved back with a tight lip smile.
You leaned against the cool metal of the elevator wall, grinning like an idiot as you watched the numbers above the door light up. You suddenly felt your phone vibrating in your purse. You pulled it out, half expecting it to be your mother calling. You smiled as Spencer’s name appeared on your phone, you answered, holding it to your ear.
“Hi, Spencer.”
“Can I take you to dinner?” He asked, his voice breathless as you assumed he was trying to catch a cab. “Tomorrow night?”
“I’d love to,” you grinned.
“I’ll pick you up… maybe don’t wear a tank top.”
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a/n: kinda obsessed with these two, i'm creating a taglist if anyone wants on :) just send a message to my inbox <3
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bet-on-me-13 · 10 months
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Bank Security Guard Danny AU
So, the People of Gotham are extremely desensitized to Rouge Attacks at this point. It got to the point that whenever a person gets a job at the Bank, they have a whole 1 Hour Training Video on how to deal with a Rouge Attack right.
So, when they hire a New Security Guard from a lesser known Security Company, they don't even bother showing him the Training Video. They assume that he'll either Die or Drop them within a Week.
Danny, for the record, did not know how bad the Rouge problem truly was. All he knew was that some random guy in a Ski Mask had just walked into the bank like he owned the place and started showing off a Gun telling everybody to get on the ground.
Danny did the sensible thing and Knocked him the Fuck Out.
Then, the same thing happened the very next day, but this time it was an entire group of people. Danny had them dealt with before the first person had gotten to the floor.
Then the same thing happened the Same Day!
By the end of the week he had become a Legend among the Citizens of Gotham. There was only a single Bank in all of Gotham that had avoided being robbed for a Whole Week, and it was all because of this one Security Guard who was freakishly good at his Job.
By the end of the Month, most criminals don't even bother trying that Bank anymore. It got worse when he got loaned out as Security for another Bank, and the same thing happened again.
Eventually, he ends up rotating shifts in Every Bank in Gotham, and it becomes a Game for the Criminals to see if the Bank they try to Rob is the one Danny is in that night. And they can't even reasonably predict his next location, since he always moves around at Random!
No matter what Bank he is in, he always manages to beat the Crooks trying to Rob the Bank.
Then it gets weird. Due to a scheduling Mix Up, Danny ends up being scheduled for 2 different Banks on the same day, each across the city from the other.
One Bank reports that Danny stopped a gang from Robbing them at 6:00 PM, which really confuses the other Bank because Danny did the same thing in their Bank at the same time. Security Footage proves it, Danny was somehow in 2 places at once.
They decide not to confront him about it, but they do test a theory. They intentionally hire him at multiple different Banks at the same time for a week. He shows up to work every time without fail.
By now they have basically confirmed that he must be a Meta, but they don't really care anyways. Now he can protect multiple Banks at once with his usual perfect Efficiency, and he'll be payed accordingly as well. The Banks get protected well, and he gets payed Extreme Overtime by the Banks, everybody wins!
Well...except for the Crime Bosses of Gotham.
Before this, it was a Game for them to try and beat Danny. They didn't really care since a single Uber Competent Security Guard was still perfectly fine for business, sure they would fail a Job once in a while if they ran into him, but he could only be in 1 place at a time. It wasn't a Huge Loss.
But now it was too much. They needed to take care of him.
Assassination Attempts didn't work. He was just as competent Off the job as he was On it, so they could never get to him.
They tried attacking his Bosses, but then they hired themselves to protect...themselves. It was hard to kill his Bosses when he was constantly Bodyguarding all of them at once.
Attempts to get to him through his Family were...let's not talk about that...
It continued on like this for a while.
...
Soooo...I don't know how to end this one.
Go ahead and put your own spin on this Prompt! The basic idea is that Danny is using his Duplication Power to get to every shift on Time, and he is really annoying the Local Crime Bosses.
What do you think?
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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months
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I Never Missed You 1/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)
Word count: 3.5 k
Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)
Summary: 1/3 You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.
A/N: A three part fic based on this request. The first chapter features banter and pining. If you're here for smut, stay tuned. There is an entire chapter of it coming right up.
Your lawyer says it would be a good idea. He even dares to look at you from under his brow like you're a child who doesn't know what's good for her.
And you don't.
Because that's exactly how you feel like: a grown woman who's stunted to a kid, now being supervised by adults. 
The bodyguard they assigned you - the one you accepted because he was your lawyer's first choice - is exactly the broad, brooding type you have always imagined bodyguards to be like.
But he's not wearing sunglasses, and he's not wearing a suit. He says the point of a bodyguard is that they don't look like a bodyguard. 
The first thing you actually pay attention to is the milky-white eyelashes. Only days after you hear that this man rarely shows his face. You were given a file on him, but you never peeked inside it because you were pissed that such drastic measures had to be taken in the first place. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Now you pry it from the pile of papers you buried it into, open it, and the first - and only - photo you see is a perfect portrayal of what Death looks like. 
He's the Reaper himself when adorned with that human skull. Keen but emotionless eyes stare from the pits of the sockets to somewhere in the distance, but that look is a stare into the past. The photo raises thousands of questions, and not only the need to know why this man prefers to wear human bones when he's shooting people.
Because apparently, that’s what he used to do before he became a bodyguard. He's buff, that you already know. But in that picture, he looks even more packed, with what you suppose is a bullet vest beneath that blouse. He’s holding an ugly-looking gun – not a pistol, but a rifle of some sort. The gear on him no doubt weighs something close to 60 pounds. His sleeves are rolled up and expose the crisscross veins on his forearms along with war-ugly, crude tattoos, and you swallow. 
Were you really looking at a picture of a barbaric soldier like it was some peculiar soft porn now?
You flip the file closed and toss it on the table, rather disgusted with yourself.
The next time you see him, you look into those brown eyes a moment longer. That stoic stare is the only thing you recognize as that of the man in the picture. That, along with his size, although photos really can't convey how this brooding grunt makes you feel: small and insignificant. Nor do they illustrate how the man looks like he’s the most graceful bull in a china shop when moving inside your house.
You suppose he grew up poor, the way he looks at your furniture, your half-a-mile bookshelf, and the latest art piece you got last month in your living room. He's judging you. 
You're posh. And clueless. And a child.
And this brute lives with you, for now. He's placed downstairs until the target is neutralized. And he's not just a bodyguard: he's hunting the hunter while you're the bait.
It should give you a thrill; your friend giggles when you two gossip about him over a lunch while he's standing only a few feet away. But this situation does not give you a thrill. It just makes you pissed.
And it's not just the situation, it's this... Simon Riley who makes you pissed.
Couldn't they teach manners, some conversation skills at the bodyguard school or wherever the hell this pale, emotionless Hulk came from?
You recheck his file and snoop some more details about his past. He didn't go to bodyguard school (of course he didn't); he used to work for some PMC. The brute's a cold-blooded, cold-hearted mercenary. To put it more eloquently, he's an elite soldier of some tactical unit. But all of that is classified, as is almost every other detail about him. The only thing you are left with is that he's British through and through, but you can already tell that by his accent - the thick Mancunian that makes your stomach and heart flip.
It's gruff – of course it's gruff – and sometimes chafes your ears like they were being grated with the softest grater. You find yourself thinking about him while you're in the shower, when your fingers start to drift and wander.
And for the love of god, you are not thinking about that accent and those eyes while you're masturbating. You're not going to mourn the fact that he never rolls his sleeves when he's with you. When he's at work.
"I saw your file," you start to chitchat over breakfast one day.
"I reckon."
He won't even touch the coffee you poured him but proceeds to drink almost all the tea. The delicate china looks miniature in his hands as he pours the Earl Grey into his cup. The cups are dainty, too – this savage would prefer a large, black mug, perhaps, from which to gulp his tea.
"So. What made you become a soldier?"
"Joined the SAS when I was 17."
And another thing he won't do is look at you when you speak. No manners at all in this man, only rough, sharp edges. He sits as far from you as he can, at the other end of the table, as if you were in a meeting. Or a war council.
"That's not what I asked."
"I know."
You roll your eyes. Conversation skills, god. Just give this man at least some charm…
"I'm going to do some shopping," you declare. "You can stay here."
Finally, he raises his stare. It's full of tired distaste.
"Nah. That's not how this works."
You rise from the table, gracefully and with a neutral face, indicating that you are an adult and won't be needing a babysitter at a store.
"Lady." 
The command is dark and stops you before you have taken one step from the table. It's a slur, almost.
He rises from the table too, and you almost feel sorry, noticing he hasn't yet finished his toast.
"You hired me. And I'm gonna do my job."
He looks big and broad, like a beautiful storm, with that piercing stare and the most alluring lashes you have ever seen on a man. Your voice turns into a meek, pitched attempt to reason with a giant.
"...I'm just going shopping."
His head tilts with a mock: you're only a child in his eyes. 
"Then let's go shopping."
…......…......
Sitting next to this giant in a taxi must be a hilarious-looking scene. A charming, vibrant lady and a sullen, intimidating Theseus – what a pair.
You've also never been this close to him. The man always sits with a wide spread. One heavy thigh almost touches your knees, which you have turned towards him for some unfathomable reason. You were taught to sit with knees closely set together, and that’s what you’re trying to do now: make yourself as small and feminine as possible. It only accentuates this man's size compared to yours. There's a pile of shopping bags between you two, and your gaze is directed outside the window, but you can feel his presence like there's a thrumming monolith beside you.
And he's always dressed in black. You kind of enjoyed how you two looked at the store: you in your heels and a pearl white suit, he in black, tactical ripstop and boots. You wouldn't define the man well-dressed… but he is sharply dressed in his own field, that's for sure. Even a commoner like you could see that.
He had complained about your clothes. White draws too much attention and makes for a bigger target. You had brushed him off with a scoff. You’re not going to change the way you dress because of this.
"You're from Manchester, right?"
You're only trying to make the journey home more enjoyable, but feel like you're snooping again, this time from the man himself. The less you know about Simon Riley, the more you want to learn who he is. It is only natural to get a little curious when his file barely had two paragraphs and a photo. You suppose even that single picture was taken and given forward with reluctance. 
And the only thing you learn is that small talk is a completely foreign concept to this man.
"You're quite the Sherlock," he mutters with that fat accent that gave him away the minute you two shook hands. You Sherlock about some more, look at the left hand that rests on his thigh.
There's no ring. Not even a tan line. He must be lonely: no relationship could stand working hours like these.
"Do you still live there?"
"...No."
"Do you miss the place?"
"No."
The short answers are guttural and spoken from the back of his throat. You don't know if he's doing it on purpose, or if this Simon is like this with everyone. He's not annoyed, though, not the way you're beginning to be.
"Aren't you a chatty one…" you mumble while watching cloudy London pass by. You figured he might hear it, and perhaps that was your purpose, even if your voice was barely a whisper.
"I'm not here to talk. Ma'am."
…......…......
You are told to stay away from the windows. The dinner table is moved so no one can aim at your head through a glass. And even then, most curtains must be closed at all times. 
He goes through doors first, and advises against going out at all. You get a list of things you should take into consideration if you do go out.
And you’re not going to give in to fear.
You simply take different routes to your friends and family, have lunches at different restaurants than usual. He says you should get an armored car, but you don’t have a license. Of course your brooding bodyguard could drive, but what will you do with some armored tank after you're finally through this thing?
What's far more interesting is that it turns out this Simon Riley is a smoker.
Disgusting, you think at first, then think about him all sweaty and grimy after some gunfight, reaching for a cig, curling those thick fingers around a pure-white coffin nail. No, wait – he had gloves in that picture; he wouldn't bother to take them off before he smoked, he would just lean on his gun and on some crumbling wall and sigh from the joy of being alive, of being bloodied and dirty and victorious before taking a long drag from his cigarette.
Ugh.
Reluctantly you agree that perhaps there is an odd charm to this man after all. Either that, or then you are in need of some serious therapy.
Breakfasts are torturingly quiet with Simon, and you can hear the slow roll of eyes every time you make plans to go to a party or an art gallery.
Once, a zipper gets stuck and you have to ask him for help. It’s mortifying, and he doesn’t say a word, only mocks you with his eyes as you turn around for him to place a warm hand on your hip and another on your back to pull up the zipper you had fought to reach and drag up by yourself for at least 10 minutes.
A week passes, and he’s buried in work, not only because he’s guarding your body 24/7, but because he’s trying to locate the hitman. The fact that Simon Riley is technically speaking a hitman too - to think that you have hired a killer - is something you don’t have the mental strength to delve into right now.
"Found the one who's hunting you."
Another file is dropped before you at the end of the week. The man marches into your office like there's no door there at all. Doesn't even bother to knock. 
This isn't what you meant when you politely told him to make himself home…
You roll the glass of water on your temple and sigh. The file reveals another photo, this time of a man who looks like an executioner.
"Goes by the name König," he says and clasps his hands over his crotch while taking a wide stance in front of your desk. "Austrian war criminal. Skilled with knives… Likes to torture people first."
Nice. More brutes.
"Why are you telling me this?" 
You're tired, there's a headache approaching, and you really don't care to go over some details about a professional lunatic killer right now. But Simon Riley - codenamed Ghost, you’ve lately learned - looks down at you like a storm cloud over a carefree meadow.
"Because you clearly don't understand the danger you're in." 
He adds "Ma'am" as a footnote. Purposely forgotten...
And you wish he would forget that silly, overly courteous term.
"Well–" you sigh your frustration in the air between you two, then realize that perhaps you're being treated like a child because you behave like one. "What are you going to do about this man...?"
"Gonna kill him," he simply shrugs, the eternal, distant look in those eyes gaining a smug tone to them. 
He enjoys this. Enjoys killing, but what's even worse, enjoys seeing how his ruthlessness makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Or perhaps he just likes shocking you with that file with an image of a lyncher in it. You know perfectly well that you're in trouble and under threat. That's what you've tried to forget, but no one lets you forget.
Simon takes a deep breath before placing his humble petition before you.
"Ma’am. I'm gonna need your help."
And nothing in this man is humble. Even though he rarely speaks and never shows his talents, not to talk of showing off, he reeks of pride and testosterone.
You set the glass on the table and straighten the file to align with the leather pad on your desk. Your fingers are not trembling. Yet.
"What do you mean?" 
He gives a hoarse laugh. The sound drills straight to your core and starts to bloom there. You realize you have never seen him smile before. And he's not smiling now: the short laugh is just a dark chuckle that mainly stays inside his chest; it only makes those stocky shoulders rise and fall.
"Not like that," he looks down at you with a tad of mercy. "You're gonna serve as bait."
"Isn't… that what I've been the whole time?"
"Yeah. But this time, we're gonna lure him in."
The way he talks makes your thighs rub together without your consent. You wonder what it would feel like if you were trapped between that solid chest and a wall, what it would be like if those hands woke you up with a calloused caress of a thigh.
You don't quite understand the difference between bait and a lure but find yourself willing to do whatever you can to help him. Help Simon…
"Sure... I'll help you," you say as if this man wasn't on your payroll.
"That's the least you could do."
That barely hidden bite in his dry retort doesn't escape you. This man's audacity buries whatever odd want you have started to feel for him and replaces it with searing, womanly fury. 
He could be a little more sensitive.
You're the one who has a target on their back. You're the one who fears going to sleep at night and feels lucky they're alive come dawn. If he wasn't so crude and uncaring, you would've asked him to sleep in the same room with you from the start. But he has to be a brute, has to follow and mock you with those ink blot eyes at every turn.
You rise from the chair when he turns and walks toward the door. It's almost a snappy jump, an attempt to reclaim your power. You're sore and thoroughly peeved.
"I never wanted this," you tell him with an annoying timbre in your tone. He stops right before the door but doesn't turn.
"Neither did I."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Could be somewhere warmer with no damsels giving me their cheek."
The BDU blouse you saw in that picture was yellow, burnt yellow. Desert wear… He wants to be in a hot desert with a cold gun in his hand. Dropped straight from some plane, working alone, in a place where damsels aren't giving him their cheek. Where there are no damsels at all. 
You're relatively sure there is no Mrs. Riley. No woman could stand this man.
"Then go somewhere warmer," you snap, almost stomp your heel on the soft carpet. This man is simply intolerable. The way he never reacts to anything makes you want to throw things at him. 
He must be trained to be so calm, but you're not. You're used to making men a little stupid and flustered. You're used to men eating out of your hand. He's not behaving at all like he's supposed to. Simon Riley is just a mountain without emotion.
He turns with that eternal, downgrading look in his eyes. There's a flash of amusement there, too.
Soddy bastard…
"Nah. Not until I've done my job."
His voice is warm now; the gruff and gravel make way to a smoothness that goes directly to your knees. Your lips part, and his eyes fall on your mouth just before he lifts his chin a hair of an inch.
"Your job…" you breathe, too furious to even rage or shout. 
Your fucking job.
Why did you even want this job if it's so–
"Yeah. My job. Some people got one."
You have to take support from the table with your fingertips. 
"Excuse me?"
There's the tiniest curve at the corner of his mouth before he takes his leave.
"Good night, ma'am."
…......…......
The next day, you start the breakfast by apologizing. 
You barely slept that night, first because of this man's utter nerve, then because your wrath eventually cooled down into a bleeding consciousness of how you must look in his eyes. 
He has accepted this job, something different from what he usually does, for reasons unknown to you. He might not be on some faraway battlefield where bullets fly past, but this is no less risky. The picture he showed you, the file on König, haunted your restless sleep last night – when you finally did get some sleep. 
You have been running around like everything’s normal when it’s not. The man’s just trying to do his job. 
And you're the one who hired him. Not your lawyer.
"I want to make peace," you coo while spreading some jam on toast. You expect Simon to finally melt a little. You might even get a smile. You secretly hope your reward is that this brute turns into a tamed lap dog you can feed some treats every now and then. 
The situation is thrilling: the beefiest man you have ever seen is going to kill someone for you. Even if he's being paid to do so, he is prepared to die for you. There's something incredibly sexy about that.
But there is silence at the other end of the table. Only the crunchy sounds of toast getting sugar on top can be heard.
"That so?" 
He doesn't sound like he's melting. He doesn't sound at all domesticated. He only sounds more and more amused.
"Yes. I'm happy that you're here," you put the toast down and turn to look at him with angel eyes.
He laughs. When he stops, he looks you up and down, then laughs some more, a silent, shoulder-shaking chuckle.
"I'm… I'm serious," you hurry to add. "I mean it. I haven't been treating you the way I should–"
"That's for sure."
You see more warmth in those eyes. But it's not because of your humble apology.
His eyes are trekking down the neckline of your blouse, and to your horror, you notice – feel – how one of the top buttons has opened, revealing much more than just some skin. You're pretty sure he gets an ample view of the fuchsia bra you're wearing underneath.
If you reach for that button now, you underline that he's not supposed to look, even if it's your mistake that you're so obscenely exposed. If you close it now, you tell him he's not allowed to look. And that's not entirely true.
"Will you forgive me?"
You feel like you're offering peace, or at least a truce, with more than just that peepy question. Because your breasts swell inside that blouse. They rise and fall with your breaths, your nipples grow hard from that look that stays down a bit longer before drifting back up. 
"There's nothing to forgive," he says, voice dropping a note or two. 
"Good," you swallow. The following sentence comes out so weakly that it's almost a whisper. "After all, I hired you."
"Ain't that the truth."
The dim glint in those eyes still holds you as a prisoner, and his tea is growing cold.
"Are we going shopping today?"
"No," you utter, dreading the next inevitable question.
"What then?"
"I… I have a yoga class."
"Of course you do."
…......…......
Taglist: @cumikering
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an-anxious-gay-mess · 14 days
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Riz is such a funny character. wore a newsie hat until his friends found out he was much hotter without it. had a glow up that mostly consisted of putting on a bunch of rings. killed and ate a dragon in his freshmen year after breaking out of prison. prevented multiple apocolypses. almost started at least 1 apocolypse. covered in tattoos. liscensed private investigator at age 15. in every club in his high school. yells at his guidance counselor/ best friend's dad. in a world of magic he's one of the few brave enough to use a gun. nepotism hire at a celestial task force. has recently taken up smoking. his mom may or may not be dating several of his friend's parents.
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sleepinghypnos · 2 months
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The Creed...
Chapter 1 - Penthouse
Genre: Smut
Tags: F/M, F/F/M, F/F/F/M, Facefuck, Throatfucking Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Harem, Self-degradation, Masochism/Sadism(?), Cum Play, Piss Play
(The things in the tags will be present when the time needs for it.)
Disclaimer: This work is a fan-fiction and does not depict the person/people mentioned in the story.
A/N: You can self-insert if you want...
--
Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!
"What is it? I'm preoccupied, so make it quick." Vlad answered the call.
"Fine. Just send them to my house... but I will not be responsible if something happens to them." He replied with his slightly deep voice and end the call.
*Silenced Gunshot*
"Blame your competitor, not me." Vlad immediately packed up his sniper rifle and fled the scene while remembering what one of his close associates in the entertainment industry said few moments ago, he begged him to accommodate a number of female K-pop idols for the purpose of strengthening the bond between idols through a experimental project wherein they live together as Tenants, cameras will not be present just them living together and at the end of their time as tenants they will do an interview regarding the way of life living with other k-pop idols aside from their respective members. In this way, the fandoms of each k-pop group will stop fighting over trivial things on the internet and support other idols.
Vladimir Creed was a 26 year old Half-European and Half-American man. His parents died in a car accident when he was still a child and only his grandfather is his only family left. He's living a lavish lifestyle full of money, expensive cars and women...
His family or more like his grandfather founded a huge company in America and owns many stocks in the entertainment industry in Korea and since Vlad is not someone who actively makes himself noticeable or well-known, he parties without revealing his true identity to anyone with a few exception of course, he has few actual friends and all of them are also young masters of their own families just like he was and he rarely expresses his emotions so he has a hard time managing it.
In his typical days, he spends most of his time just relaxing in his penthouse, in which he bought himself with his own money. though it may seem strange since he parties every chance he get, he has a very unique talent and that is being a hired gun that even his grandfather didn't know.
And while relaxing, he usually goes naked after a shower because there is no one in the house, It's is personal space after all. His maids and butlers will only come if they were asked for and he cooks for himself.
His penthouse is in a small island near the coast and there is only one bridge connected to it. So, guests who'll visit the island can use the bridge without the need of boats.
...
Vlad arrived at his house but welcomed by cars parked near the main gate. "What the fuck is this?" He said to himself, he got out of his car to check what's going on then he remembered Eunseok, one of his close associates said few hours ago. "Now it makes."
Then he called one of the guards to let him pass, and so they did. He drove and the people blocking the path dispersed and he got in smoothly.
"Let them in, they are going to live here indefinitely." Vlad announced to the guards and went inside to change.
Most of the people outside the penthouse are already inside the living area, he saw the k-pop idols waiting for the master of the house.
"I'm Vladimir Creed, but you can call me Vlad. I'm the owner of this house, my friend already told me what you guys are going to do. So feel free live here." and he looked at managers of each of the group "There are places in the house that is not available, I don't care if they used the swimming pool, drink at the bar." Pointing at the wet bar near the kitchen. "Or anything, but, all of third floor is off limits because that's where my room is located."
The producer nodded and introduce the idols that will be living with him in the house.
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He extended his hand for a handshake to ITZY's Yuna and Ryujin, Aespa's Karina and Winter, (G)-Idle's Soyeon and Miyeon, Red Velvet's Irene, Seulgi, and Joy, and Twice's Sana, Mina, and Nayeon which they received with a smile.
--
One day has passed, the girls are eating lunch in the long refectory table since they woke up late just like Vlad was and the maids and butlers were there to assist them.
After lunch, the Red Velvet and Twice members were gathered in the backyard, enjoying a beautiful sunny day by the pool. They were relaxing and chatting about their recent performances, when they suddenly heard a splash from the pool.
Curious, they all turned to see Nayeon filling up a water gun and aimed at them. Panic set in as they scream and run around the pool to avoid getting wet since they just want to enjoy the sun.
Running made them exhausted and they decided to have a friendly water fight. Joy and Seulgi teamed up against Sana and Mina, Nayeon and Irene. Laughter and screams filled the air as they chased each other around the pool, trying to get each other wet
In the living room, Ryujin and Karina were sharing a bucket of ice cream while watching a romantic K-drama. They were joined by Soyeon and Miyeon, who couldn't resist the delicious smell of the popcorn. They all cuddled under a blanket, enjoying the show and teasing each other about their favorite characters. Yuna and Winter are busy doing some tiktok challenge.
As the sun set, the members of ITZY, Aespa, and (G)-Idle joined their sun-kissed Seniors in the pool. They all gathered around the pool, sharing stories, and having a heart-to-heart conversation. For a moment, the backyard was filled with the sound of their laughter and friendship.
As the night came, they all gathered in the living room to watch a movie together. They munched on some snacks and cuddled on the couch, enjoying their time together. It was a perfect day off for all of them, a day filled with laughter, bonding, and memories that they will cherish forever.
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Karina asked the butler where Vlad was and she was led to the study where he spends time if he's not doing anything.
When Karina entered the study, she was met with a tall, imposing figure staring at her from behind a large oak desk. Vlad's dark hair was slicked back, and he exuded a sense of power and mystery. Karina couldn't help but feel a pull towards him, she already know that this man is handsome the moment she land her eyes on him earlier in the morning.
"Um, Sir? I just want to asked if we can have some of the liquor in the wet bar." She asked while slowly approaching him.
"Didn't I told you girls that you can do whatever you want with the wet bar?" He answered and walked to towards her. "And you're asking me when you already half drunk."
Karina got embarrassed but it faded when a faint smile appeared on Vlad's lips, she was mesmerized. "Are you sure that's the reason why you're here?" he was close to her, Karina needs to look up just to meet his eyes.
Karina pulls him for a kiss and reciprocated it with the same intensity. It started as vanilla kissing until in turns into something like animals in heat and eventually began to make out with insane passion. Vlad grab her waist to pull her closer, her hands were hugging his neck.
He noticed she wanted more and so he obliged and brought one hand to feel up her breasts which made Karina moan between their kisses.
Their kiss was passionate, Vlad keeping her in his arms while she let herself be consumed by him. It lasted for few minutes until they both stopped quietly staring at each other.
"D-did you like it?" Karina said while catching her breathe.
"I did, your lips are sweet with a hint of whiskey... you really were half drunk." Brushing his thumb on her lips. "Want me to lead this time?" he asked her while caressing her face.
"Yes, please." Karina said.
“Do you think could handle it?” Vlad responded seemingly showing concern.
Karina nodded. “I did have my own few boyfriends before...”
“I won't doubt it but... I get rough. Really rough. I'm sure it's something you haven't experience before..."
“You are worrying about me and that's sweet but I think I'm gonna be fine... please don't hold back and just give it to me.” She said while making a serious face.
Vlad's hand roam towards her neck and stayed there and slowly gripping it. Her cunt throb as they kiss again and slowly stripping each other’s clothes off, his hands still in her neck slightly choking her.
As their bodies got liberated from their clothing, Vlad immediately attacks Karina's big breasts making her moan, her hands couldn't resist to push his head closer. His other hand goes to Karina's precious treasure and starts invading it.
"This fucking slutty tits of yours keeps leering people on." Vlad said while groping her breasts and assaulting them with his tongue...
"Fuck! Yes! It feels good, sir." Karina said.
Which made Vlad riled up even more. "Sir?" He stopped groping her breast.
"You don't like being called like that? I'll change it." She said while pleading to continue to pleasure her.
He doesn't like getting called Daddy/Oppa. The women he's been with keeps calling him that and he got bored by it, now he prefers to called by his name but this time around is different.
Sir? of all the things that someone can be called... Sir is the one getting him riled up.
"No, keep it that way... now get on your knees whore." Vlad said with a commanding aura. “I’m going to use your mouth as a fleshlight. Pull my cock out.”
Karina didn't expect the monster hiding beneath his pants. She could see the bulge of his massive cock. Now she knows why he said 'Something she haven't experience before.' because it's true. He is much bigger than the guys she's been with. So much bigger. She feels hotter and hotter than usual.
Vlad's dick stands proud at 10 inches and is almost girthy as a water bottle.
“You are so massive, fucking massive!” Karina said as she freed his cock and hit her in the face. She stare at his huge member mesmerized by it.
“My god! Why are you so big? Can you even use this?” She said as she grabbed his cock with with both hands. "And you're going to use my mouth with this thing?"
"What? Are you scared? I told you I'm rough and I mean it." He said seriously. "You are going to take every inch of my cock in your throat whether you like it or not."
Karina got nervous but her lust towards him is much heavier.
She showered his cock with kisses, admiring every inch, as if she's worshipping his massive member.
"Suck it." And she did, she gives him a slow and sensual blowjob, keeping her eyes on him.
"You came in her just to do that?"
“What do you mean, Sir?”
He grabbed her by the hair she opened her mouth and swallowed as much of him as she possibly could.
COUGH COUGH COUGH
Relaxing her throat as she let his girthy cock push through her throat. She struggled for a minute and he's watching her giving herself to him.
Vlad guides her and she bobbed her head up and down to see how deep she could take him over and over and over again. Her eyes were tearing up, saliva dripping down as she takes his girthy cock in her throat.
She taps his legs but Vlad ignored her protests and stayed in her throat. "I told you, I'm rough... you don't know what you get yourself into."
He is fucking her throat with reckless abandon and not caring if she can still breathe. Few seconds more and he let go and she breathe hastily. "Sh-shit! I almost passed out." She coughs. "Fuck!"
"Just accept your role as my slut from now on." He slaps her face with his massive heavy cock.
He forced his cock back into her throat. She gives in, letting this man use her mouth and throat as a fleshlight. Her eyes were rolled back into her head.
GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK
Her moaning and gagging sounds filled the study, the moonlight touches her silky white skin enhancing her beauty further while her throat is getting violated. Even though she already accepted her fate, she still needs to breathe and she tried to struggle for air but failed.
“MMMPPHKKKK!” She resists and got ignored.
“Just stay there, don't regret your decisions now.” Vlad said and spent another three seconds before letting Karina go.
She chokes and gags even though she's already freed from that monster of a cock. “Did I... do a good job, Sir?” She asked noticeably exhausted. She then received another batch of throatfucking and this time, it's much easier but it still hurts.
GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK
She's taking it like a good little slut, moaning and groaning every time Vlad thrusts too deep in her throat. Karina became accustomed to the massive rod destroying her tight throat and she slowly but surely loving the way he manhandle her without any care about her well-being.
"I'm cumming you little slut!" He said and starts speeding up in his assaults. After all of this, he gave her some leeway and pull his cock out of her mouth. "Want to drink it?"
“YES! T-thank you, feed me your c-cum! Please sir, I'm begging you!!!” She said before he shoved his cock back into her mouth again.
Vlad reached his climax and poured it all in Karina's throat, he releases an obscene amount of cum like he's been holding it for long while. She willingly swallow every bit of it. Few ropes of his cum left in her mouth, she put on a show by gurgling, swirling her tongue cover of his cum then swallowing it.
“Oh my god... fucking hell... that was heavenly!” She said as she crawled over to him and started to lick his shaft cleaning it. “I need to be treated like that again, Sir. Please! You are right, I never experienced that before..”
"Oh, That's only the beginning little slut." He said while grabbing her in the neck and pulling her up.
A/N: Another Series that I might abandon but... oh well. I planned on doing the Bodyguard EP. 6 but idk when to actually do it.
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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Mafia AU - last updated : 3/8/24
You've recently been hired by John Price. He's a great boss! Respectful, straightforward, polite... you couldn't ask for better. There's just one problem - well, two.
There's... the gun. That's a little concerning.
And then there's the fact that he's too hot for you to care about the gun.
Content: Violence, Organized Crime, Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy
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mokulule · 8 months
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Take Out for Dummies - part 1
Ship: Dead on Main
“Excuse me?” Jason asked in disbelief.
“How would you describe your ideal date?” the man repeated the question calmly as if he hadn’t snuck up on Red Hood on a rooftop in the middle of the night and didn’t have two guns pointed at him by said surprised vigilante.
Jason had no idea what to think, it was absurd. Only one thing made the smallest bit of sense. After all some reporters would do anything for a story.
“Is this an interview for a gossip magazine?”
The man blinked. “No, this is for personal use only.”
Okay. That was even weirder. With that thought he holstered his guns, grabbed his grapple instead and jumped off the building. He could move his patrol elsewhere for tonight.
Oo o oO
It had been a few days, the strange encounter forgotten about as he’d quickly come across a shipment of unsanctioned drugs entering his territory; Black Mask was making moves towards Crime Alley again. Red Hood had to nip that bullshit in the bud. Just because he was more vigilante than crime lord these days didn’t mean he’d gone soft.
So, Jason had forgotten about the strange man on the rooftop and was wholly unprepared when once again he was standing on a rooftop taking a small break in his patrol and someone spoke:
“So I assume dinner is out what with the whole helmet deal, but what about chocolate?”Jason spun around heart in this throat, guns pointing towards the direction of the voice. It took a moment for him to even find him. This time he was sitting on top on the slanted roof of the stairwell.
“What the-“
“A box of chocolate could be enjoyed later, would that be a suitable gift?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Too many things to remember off the top of my head.” The man jumped down and walked towards Jason, once more showing his absolute disregard for the guns pointing at him.
“Do you have a death wish?”
That for some reason brought a smile to his face.
Somehow, Jason was the one taking a step back despite being the one holding the guns. That at least stopped the man’s advance and he raised his hands in surrender.
“Sorry man, I guess this whole showing up on a rooftop in the dark is kinda creepy.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just with you being you, I don’t know where else to catch you.”
Jason felt an incoming headache, and he was feeling increasingly silly pointing his guns at the man when he didn’t react to them at all.
“How about you explain who you are and what you want?”
“Oh!” He slapped his forehead as if he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I’m Danny, and I’ve been hired to take you out.” He smiled brightly.
Jason stared in disbelief. Who in their right mind just announced they’d been hired to kill someone, to the person they intended to-
No…
It couldn’t be…
He’d been asking about dates and chocolate. He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood take out Red Hood as take out Red Hood on a date. Nobody would be that stupid…
“Why would someone hire you to take me out on a date?”
Danny, if that was his real name, shrugged. “Maybe they thought you were stressed and needed a nice evening? I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just do odd jobs for money, keeps the lights on, you know?”
Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t believe this.
“And like this job pays extremely well for some reason, so like I’d like to do a good job of it hence the questions?”
Of course it payed extremely well, it was meant to be a freaking hit! Still could be of course, but then it was the oddest way to go about it that Jason had ever experienced and he’d taken out quite a few would-be assassins in his time.
Danny’s face fell at Jason’s continued non-responsiveness. He sighed. Then brought out a notepad and scribbled something down, before ripping off the paper and holding it out to Jason.
“Look,” he said, when Jason made no move to take the paper and still just kept his guns trained on him, “here’s my number if you change your mind. If you haven’t called back in three days, I’ll return my advance and tell them I can’t do it - no matter how sad I’ll be to see that money go.” He looked pained at the admission, but then looked back up at Red Hood with determination.
“Still please reconsider, Mr Hood, I promise I’ll show you a good time if you agree to a date.”He looked expectantly from his hand with the paper to Jason’s helmet. Jason sighed. Holstering his right hand gun he took the paper. It was indeed a phone number, above the number it said Danny with a little smiley face drawn after the name.
Danny’s face brightened into a smile.
“Have a good night then Mr. Hood, I hope to hear from you.” Danny walked backwards with a wave and promptly tripped on an empty bottle someone had left.
“Woah!” His arms windmilled and he only just saved himself from falling back and hitting his head by sheer luck as he caught himself in the sort of gravity defying pose that would win him most limbo games. He laughed sheepishly as he put a hand down and turned around to push himself back up.
“So that was embarrassing. Should look where I go, huh? Never know when you’ll be assaulted by littering…” his voice trailed off as he walked away. He threw a last wave over his shoulder before jumping onto the fire escape and beginning his climb down.
Jason was left standing on the rooftop, paper clutched in one hand, trying to comprehend the whole baffling conversation. Also there was a distinct curl of embarrassment that he’d actually felt threatened by the guy at one point.
Yeah, he wasn’t gonna unpack that. He put the paper in a pocket of his utility belt and took a running leap to the next rooftop.
Oo o oO
Jason could not believe he was actually doing this.
It was three days later. In the mean time he’d asked around his old enforcers if they heard about a guy named Danny who did “odd jobs” as he’d called it.
As it turned out, there was indeed an odd-job-Danny, sometimes just called odd-Danny, with an increasing reputation on the streets of Gotham for doing all sorts of jobs - everything from helping old ladies carry groceries home for pennies and a pat on the cheek to heavier lifting by the docks. When he asked one of the street kids about him, he was told he also helped look for lost pets for pretty rocks or whatever the kids had in their pockets at the time, and he could fix just about anything - which had to be an exaggeration, but then again the street kids weren’t prone to overly positive opinions about adults, so he’d certainly made quite an impression on them.
Yet despite a lot of people knowing about him, apparently nobody knew a last name or where he lived. It was a mystery.
All that to say that Jason was curious… and apparently doing this.
He looked down at his phone, where he’d already put in the number. His thumb hovered over the call button. He still could not believe he was doing this. If this was a trap he was apparently walking in.
With a sigh he pushed the button.
It rang three times before it connected.
“Hello?” A hesitant voice asked.
“Is this Danny?” “Who’s asking?”
“You ask me on a date and you already forgot, I’m hurt,” Jason deadpanned hoping he would catch on to it not being wise to mention Red Hood’s name on an unencrypted line.
“Oh! So is that a yes?” He piped up excitedly.
Urgh, why was it charming that that he sounded so genuinely excited?
“Yes.”
“Sweet. Did you consider my questions?”
“Nope,” Jason popped the p and found himself smirking, “gonna have to impress me all on your own.”
Danny huffed. “Have it your way. I’ll show you a good time, you’ll see. How does… Sunday afternoon work for you?”
“’s fine.”
“Meet you in front of the building we last met, at 2 pm? Also unless you wanna take the bus, maybe bring your bike? I don’t drive.”
Jason scoffed. Letting some stranger hired to kill him close to him on his bike was a recipe for disaster. Still he found himself answering:
“Sure.”
“Great! I’ll see you Sunday then.”
With those words the call ended.
Jason looked down at his phone. He couldn’t believe it. Jason, no, Red Hood had a date for this Sunday. A giddy feeling bubbled up in his chest and he couldn’t help laughing. Red Hood going on a date. It was fucking ridiculous.
Yet, he was kinda looking forward to it. -
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bolides · 1 year
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reply to @animatronicabundance continued from here
it's not a very long walk -- really, it's only slowed down by shu stopping every few steps to make sure she isn't leaving gregory in the dust (the one curse of having such long legs). when they get there, she opens the door for him, letting it close with a dull thud behind her.
on the desk, besides the security badge and between the monitors, is a simple turkey and cheese sandwich and bag of cheetos; her lunch, interrupted by gregory's shenanigans. a chair is pulled up for him, and the other at the desk is occupied by shu. she's quiet for a long moment -- he was clearly upset, and it was pretty obvious it was related to christmas. she didn't know where to start. maybe... maybe small.
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"hey. d'you like cheetos?" the open bag is held out to him
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hatekawa · 9 months
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Not a question but I just wanna tell you that my friend sent me your arcane au and now I find myself at 10:44pm writing Arcane in the rottmnt version and the first scene (0-3:23) already has over 1k words. At this rate one episode might equal 10-15k words, but I regret nothing. I literally love your idea so much. Any chance we can get the scene during "guns for hire" where Jinx (Mikey) finally lights up the flare and Vi (Leo) sees it and comes to find him with Usagi? >:)
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sure! Have this
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It wasn’t over, it still isn’t over. (Bandit cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader) Part 2
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Wake up babe, new cowboy Miguel fic just dropped! This part was heavily inspired by the notebook. Period pieces are not my strong suit so apologizes if it’s not good. Not proofread, enjoy!
(Y/N)-Your name.
Cursing, mentions/usage of alcohol, attempted robbery/theft, mentions of guns, Miguel jokes about manhandling you but nothing actually happens, mentions of sexual acts, but nothing happens.
Word Count: 2.3k
Part 1
Masterlist
Five years.
Five years since you had last seen the cowboy who had stolen your heart.
You had graduated college and moved out of your parents home, moving a few towns over, nowhere near a big city like you lived in during your youth in the East but a lot larger than the one you had lived during the whole Miguel incident. You lived in a nice home, gotten a job as a teacher for the younger kids in town and… you were recently engaged.
Your fiancé was a nice man, sweet, understanding, kind, easy on the eyes, you liked him a lot, the only problem is, you didn’t love him. You should feel bad about getting married to a wealthy man who you didn’t even see as more than of a friend, but at the same time, your mother thought it would be best to marry you off to her friend’s son that just so happened to be inheriting his father’s liquor business when he settled down. It was a marriage of convenience if anything, at least he was polite with you despite neither you or him having any romantic feelings, if anything it made the whole thing a bit easier for you. Growing content with the fact that this would turn into your future children’s definition of love.
Five years to grow from a silly lovestruck teenager into a young woman with responsibilities and a bright future ahead of her, and you still thought about him. You can't help but frantically Miguel’s name under the obituary section of the town’s paper, unknowingly breathing a sigh of relief when his name wouldn’t appear. Although it was foolish, and despite no longer living in the same small town as your parents, you couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter at the fact he hasn’t found you yet. Was he even attempting to look for you? With a reputation like his, you’re certain you weren’t the first girl he’s charmed to get under his sheets… or in your case, jail cell. So, eventually, you stopped hoping, if he hadn’t found you during the last five years, he surely wasn’t looking. Why should you?
“Darling.” Your fiancé, Austin, called out for you before rounding the corner that connected the living room into the kitchen. You hummed in response as you kept your eyes on the stack of papers you were currently grading for your students, a pen in your dominant hand as your free one tapped a mindless tone to help keep you concentrated. “Put the papers down and take a break will you? You’ve got all week to grade those tests.” You let out a huff and a whine as you put the pen down, he was right. Your eyes keep unfocusing and your wrist was being to grow sore, making your fiancé tsk. “I don’t understand why you don’t just quit, I make enough to support us both.”
“I should,shouldn't I…” You contimplacted with a weary chuckle, and although your tone was joking, you were seriously considering it. You adored your students with all your heart, you really did. But the school was putting so much pressure on you because they refused to hire another teacher to help lessen your workload. So you and two other teachers were juggling a handful of 300 seven year olds, it was a lot… to say the least. You picked yourself up from your seat to stretch your body out, before turning to Austin. “Now was that all you came to tell me?” You asked in a playful tone.
“No, actually… I came to ask for a favor.” He admitted, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Ya know I’ve got that… liquor convention event out of town this weekend, right?” You nodded in confirmation, “well, I was wondering if you could do me the favor of just checking in on my office while I’m gone. I’ve heard a lot about break ins and whatnot during these times, just drop by for a few minutes for the 4 days that I’ll be gone.”
You tapped the nonsensical rhythm again as you thought about it, it wasn’t too much of an ask, you’d just drop by for a few minutes a day, you shrugged. “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Saturday afternoon, your first day off and your third alone. Grateful for the ability to sleep in and being about to eat a well rounded breakfast. After doing your usual morning routine, and having changed into one of your simpler dresses to go out and run some errands for the day.
Gone out to get groceries, send out a letter to your parents, went to the tailors to drop off some Austin’s shirts to be hemmed since you didn’t feel like sitting down all to do it yourself, even finished grading the last of the test all before noon ended. After tidying up your work from its usual spot from the kitchen table, you made yourself a quick lunch and went to read a few chapters of your book on the couch. Only to end up falling asleep, and once you woke up, you glanced at the clock-shit.
“It’s half past five?! I was supposed to go to his office an hour ago!” You yelled to no one but yourself as you quickly got up from your spot on the couch, fixing your hair quickly as you threw on your coat, and made your way back out the door.
“I told ya boys this heist would be easy… if we leave by dusk we could hit up that train that passes by el dorado tomorrow evening…” Miguel chuckled as he tossed his now full bag of valuables to his brother, who then passed it over Peter would load it to one of their horses that they had waiting for them around the back of the building.
After that night he had escaped, it took him about a month to find his partners in crime, following their trail through stolen newspapers from random porches and the knowledge of how their usual trail was, luckily they had kept his horse safe and well taken care of too.
“One more bag then we’re as good as gone.” Miguel said with a smirk, making Gabriel Let out a laugh and a clap. Right when Miguel was going to prep the last bag, the faint noise of rushing made all three men stop in their tracks. Before he sent his younger brother a glare and he hissed in a low tone through his teeth. “Pinche cabrón- I thought you said this place would be empty all weekend.” (Fucking dumbass)
“I thought it would!” He whispered-shouted back, before they heard the door creak open.
“Fuck-okay… um, go check if it’s the sheriff.” He quietly ordered Gabriel, before turning to Peter, “Get the horses ready incase we needa’ book It.” With a nob both males did as told, as Miguel quickly went to pack the last bag.
When his younger brother entered the front room, he swore he heard him mutter the words “hello pretty lady” before the muffle sound of rustling and some high-pitched yelping, but never was a shot fired, so clearly it couldn’t have been someone to play an immediate threat. Just as he was finishing tying up the bag, Gabriel came back into the room, but not alone.
“Look at what I found, it must be his little wife.” He said almost mockingly as he hazardly pulled you into the room and pushed you into the room in front of Miguel’s feet, but with your face being tilted down as you caught yourself from falling face first onto the wooden floor.
“Careful!” You yelled as you try to collect yourself, once you get yourself to look up at the bandit you were dropped in front of, your scowl immediately turned into once of disbelief, and it seems his expression matched yours.
You both seem to have froze up in time as you both did nothing but stare at each other, Gabriel just crossed his arms and raised a brow, Peter came jogging in to inform his friends the horses are ready when he saw the odd scene, opting to keep his mouth shut.
Finally, you came back to life as you blinked, as if expecting his to disappear right before your very eyes again, and when he didn’t, you finally whispered a faint. “…Miguel?”
“…(Y/N)…” You nodded your head, despite it not being a question, and he cleared his throat, not breaking eye contact with you as he spoke his next orders to Peter and Gabriel. “Unload all that shit and put it back.”
He had told Gabriel and Peter to go on to do the train heist without him, and that he'd meet up with them afterwards. Saying he had “unattended business to take care of”. So now here he was, in your kitchen, only being lightened up by a few candles as darkness overtook the sky. Both of you sharing drunken giggles over dinner. Miguel’s black cowboy hat that was certainly too big for you sitting on top of your head as you sip on your beer.
“That hat looks adorable on you.” Miguel chuckled, making you shake your head with a giggle, your free hand going to rest on top of the hat to help keep it stabilized.
“It’s so big!” You countered as you take the hat off and went to hand it back to Miguel, who grabs it and sets it back on his head.
“You know you shouldn’t be wearing just anyone’s hat. Ya know what they say about wearing a man’s cowboy hat.” He joked as he put down his now empty bottle, chuckling when he saw your face contour in confusion.
“What do they say?” You asked curiously, making Miguel’s smirk widen.
“Wear the hat…” he tapped the brim on the hat for emphasis, “Ride the cowboy.” He finished, making you gasp dramatically.
“Miguel! That’s inappropriate!” You pretended to be offended, but you couldn’t help but crack a smile near the end of you reprimanding him.
“Oh please, you act like you haven’t before, why not again? Unless you want me to come over then and manhandle you.” He was only joking of course, he may have been a thief and a murderer but he’d never hurt a woman, especially not you. You let out a faux gasp, playing along as your right hand goes to your chest for emphasis.
“You wouldn’t dare. I’m a married woman.” You said in a softer tone, going to sip your bottle to finish it off. You haven’t really told him you were going to be getting married soon, even though he knew you were in a relationship, he didn’t quite know how serious it was.
“Not yet.” He replied almost immediately, shaking his head as his playful tone dropped to a more serious yet still gentle tone. The soft smile stays on his lips but it didn’t meet his eyes anymore when you raised your hand to show off the silver band that decorates your ring finger, the diamond shining even only in the candlelight. It took you a moment too long to realize this.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, the start of a giggle comes out with your words but they quickly die down in your throat as the once playful atmosphere starts to turn more serious.Miguel just shakes his head as a hand goes to rub at his chin.
“Nothing nothing… just didn’t think you’d ever get married… thought what we had was something real.” He admitted, eyes casted downwards as he goes to fidget with a bent half beer bottle cap. You let out a scoff, offended by his words.
“Don’t try and think I just forgot about you the moment my father dragged me out of that door,” your brows furrowed and your arms crossed on the wooden table as you started to chastise him, “I was stuck on you for five years Miguel. Five. Years.” You emphasized the two words with taps on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, Austin is a great guy, but it was my parents' idea for me to marry him. They thought it was a good way to get me to stop thinking about you-“ You shouldn’t be admitting that outloud but the buzz made your mind hazy.
“Do you love him?” He interrupted you, eyes burning into yours, those same intense eyes you had dreamed about as you slept, you had to look away.
“It’s not that simple Miguel-“
“But it is.” He insisted, standing up from his seat, the chair screeching as it tried not to topple over. “You either love him or you don’t.”
“I’m not doing this with you Miguel.” You shook your head as you stood as well, going to clean up the mess you two had made, trying to erase any evidence you two were there.
“Too bad, I’m not just gonna drop this and let you disappear from my life, I’m not losing you again.” He declared, you weren’t going to justify his admission with a response, but as you go to pick up a few empty bottles, they slip from your hands, cracking into hundreds of small shreds as Miguel’s hands turn you around to face him. A shocked gasp begins to leave your lips before it is quickly swallowed up by his. You know you should push him off, but you couldn’t help but melt underneath his touch.
Miguel O’Hara was a criminal, a thief of many things and no matter how much you try to stop him, he’ll always find a way to steal your heart all over again.
Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @xevita @marshhbs @inlovewithpandora @vera4luv @mcmiracles @eddieslooneymoonie @to-the-endoftheline
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i think larry butz could defeat kristoph due to his power of being in the center of consant chaos yet being 100% uneffected. phoenix is in the centre of a whirlpool - larry, the eye of a storm
kristoph couldnt even touch larry he tries to poison his food larry trips the food flies out onto his canvas, larry is now inspired and makes money off of new art
if phoenix gets shot, he just kinda shrugs it off. kristoph hires sniper for larry? he ducks down to look @ a worm at just the right time, the bullet somehow rickoshets, hitting the sniper's gun
larry defeats kristoph by being such a force of chaos, that kristoph cannot predict 1 single thing larry does. tries to hire assiassin - honeypot special, for the first time in his life larry has sworn of romantic or sexual relationships to focus on himslef
also... i think phoenix should have sicced larry on kristoph to defeat him... the perfect plan.
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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Oh my god, asks are open! Hey how are you?? And what are your favourite König AUs' counterparts??
Asks are still closed, actually, I just used the opportunity to promote my Instagram. But...for my top Konig AUs, I have these ones! 1) Mafia Konig. Oh how I love this man. I honestly don't know much about Austrian criminal life, but I just know that this man is the perfect jaded ex-soldier who came out of service, saw how the system treats its veterans, and decided to seize power for himself. He is cool, strong - his awkwardness and inability to socialize casually is almost going unnoticed as he seeks retired soldiers to make up his crime group, getting control over drug and weapons market. With his connections in all of Central Europe and slowly creeping onto the Eastern part and illegal gun and oil deals, the only thing he is lacking is a pretty girl on his lap, making him feel good. He doesn't like escorts, often leaving bad taste in his mouth - but he sees you, a pretty girl working in a cafe that he owns, in a flower shop that is just a front for his business, in some shabby tourist establishment made to get tourists on cheaply produced drugs...you're innocent, you have no idea about the dangers around you - but don't worry, he is cynical for both of you. 2) Loser!Konig Seeing this big guy with a big title and money and even a house being a complete loser for you is...something. He is dangerous, of course, always getting borderline or straight-up obsessive, so down and for you it's horrible - but the again, he is the only guy to ever love you like this...so, why not give him a chance? Yes, he will hunt you down and out you on his basement by the end of the week because he has no idea what the hell courting is but, then again, he would also give you some interesting lecture about lego and war history.
3) Monster!Konig Obviously, having this giant eldritch horror dude so down bad for you is exciting to write! This version of Konig is mainly a tsundere type, he is acting cold because monsters value power and he doesn't want to seem too soft with his little pet wife - but don't worry, he is soft and warm behind the closed doors, always allowing you to have something nice for yourself. This version of him tights with oviposition, obviously. He is using your fertile, lush body to carry his eggs - so be prepared for all the exciting thing about pregnancy, but over and over again, with Konig cooing over you as he finally mates you for hours on end... 4) Dilf!Konig This bastard uses his kid to maintain contact with you, and he is not even ashamed! It's honestly horrible( he doesn't like to talk to his kid, so he took you in as either willing or a kidnapped nanny, and then proceeded to breed another child into you just because this guy has a major breeding kink, but can't take care of children( He will pay for everything, at least, even hiring some help to make everything a bit easier for you - but god, he starts to like his kids only when you're playing with them...
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