#I get he’s a morally grey character but I just didn’t like him

[softsan]

˚ 🥀⊹ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄. (𝐩𝐭.𝟑)

✉️ ・ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬: | 01 | 02 | 03 |

✉️ ・ ── 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 | 𝐲/𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

✉️ ・ ── 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Mafia AU, Angst, Kingpin!Taeyong, Queenpin!Y/N, Fem!Reader, Childhood friends, Betrayal, Enemies to lovers, Eventual Smut.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:  You were the only surviving heir of the old-time Mafia kingpin that had ruled the four territories. You were long thought to be dead, living the normal life you had always wanted...Until you run into a Taeyong, a formidable ghost from your past. You are then thrown back into the Mafia underbelly, reuniting with enemies you had hoped had forgotten you. Will you run away? Will you stand beside Taeyong, kingpin of the North, and be his queen? Or will you take your rightful revenge.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Possessive Themes, Future Explicit Sexual Content, Murder, Kidnapping, Strangulation, Torture, Weapons, Graphic Violence, Heavy Angst, Explicit Language, Alcohol Consumption, Mentions of Drugs, Betrayal, Morally Grey Characters.

✉️ ・ ── 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Past.

Click.

You choked out a silent cry, your vision darkening as your world closed in on you.

Taeyong’s hand was trembling, his gun still pointed against the base of your skull. He let out a hopeless gasp, his chest relentlessly pounding.

He had pulled the trigger. You were supposed to have died by his hand. He was to end your beautiful existence. He was to snuff out the brightest light to have ever entered his miserable life.

“Taeyong!” His partner cursed “Hurry up and do it!”

“I’m out of bullets,” Taeyong said, no louder than a whisper.

He slowly pulled the gun away from you, relief washing over him.

“She trusted you,” Your brother spat, his voice laced with venom, “She trusted you and you stand over her to fire a bullet into her brain!” He thrashed the chains which tied to his wrist, against the hardwood floors.

Taeyong’s partner laughed. “The weak don’t deserve to live.” He circled closer, offering his loaded gun to Taeyong.

Taeyong’s hand felt numb as he accepted the gun.

“Take the brother out. He talks too much.”

Taeyong stared at the cold metal between his fingers.

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

He didn’t.

Taeyong fired. Blood splattered against the white walls. The roar of the gunshot echoed endlessly into the night.

You wanted desperately to pry your eyes open, but your eyelids felt so heavy. Your body ached; your limbs groaned. Your lungs felt like fire, screaming with every shallow breath you took.

“So, this is Silas’ precious daughter?” A woman taunted, her voice growing louder as did her footsteps. 

Father? 

“Silas’ most prized possession,” She almost sang, “Just look at this priceless cage he built to keep her safe.”

“There is no such thing as safe,” A man added to the conversation, “At least not in our world.”

“Who cares?!” Another said impatiently, “Let's get it over with and kill the bitch.” 

The woman chuckled as you felt the patter of her icy fingers graze across your neck. 

“The four crescent-cut diamonds,” Her voice softened, delicately holding up your golden necklace. “I’ve only heard about it in rumors, who would have thought such an exquisite piece actually exists.”

“A memento!” The older gentlemen exclaimed. “For us, the new rulers of this unforgiving land.”

“There are only three of us and four diamonds?”

“Never mind about that.” The woman cut in, “We still have to kill the little girl.”

I don’t want to die. Your lips refused to move. There’s so much I still haven’t done...

The barbed steel wrapped around your neck, messily cutting up your flesh. It tightened, strangling around your throat.

In another life, you wouldn’t make the same mistakes. In another life, you wouldn’t be friends with Taeyong.

Present.

You stared stonily at the food laid out in front of you. Despite, the constant rumble of your stomach you stubbornly held your ground.

“If you behave, then I'll sneak you some dessert.” The young man tried to bargain with you. You had quickly learned his name to be Mark.

“I’m not hungry,” You turned your nose.

Mark scratched the back of his head, unsure how to handle you. After all, you were Taeyong’s distinguished guest, if any harm were to come to you, Mark would surely lose an arm for it.

In Taeyong’s absence he had Mark set up security cameras, guards, and twenty-four-hour patrols. All to ensure you stayed in Taeyong’s residence.  

Mark heard the buzz from his phone. It was Gracie. He rejected the call. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He wouldn't underestimate your will to escape.

The last time he was briefly distracted, you’d managed to shatter a window with your bare hands. Mark had just caught you in time before you were about to launch yourself out of the third-story window.

Mark remembered the long-hanging curtains. They danced in the wind as he desperately applied pressure on your bleeding wounds.

“Please just don’t try anything stupid again.” Mark squeezed his eyes in frustration, “I’m already down an arm.”

You slightly tilted your head not following the last part.

“Taeyong’s so going to cut another one-off, if you keep harming yourself.”

You glanced at your bandaged hands, reminded of your recent antics.

“So please stay put and eat something.”

Just as you were to refuse, you heard the bedroom door burst open. In came a disheveled Taeyong, his hair a mess, his tie loosened around his neck.

“I won’t let you starve yourself.”

Mark let out a sigh of relief, saluting his boss.

“You can go,” Taeyong released Mark from his duties.

“Ah, and about my arm boss?”

“Leave.”

Mark wasted no longer, quickly scurrying outside the room and closing the door behind him.

“Y/N.” Taeyong addressed you.

Unease bubbled in the pits of your stomach, your heartbeat picking up. You refused to face him, instead pretending to study the embroidery of the pillowcase on your lap.  

“Y/N?” He said again,

You squeezed closed your eyes, wishing he’d stop.  

“Y/N?”

“Why did you bring me here?” You broke, your voice quivering in unrest.

“Y/N.”

“Why?” Your eyes revealed themselves, glistening as you held back tears.

Taeyong’s chest sank, he didn’t have any worthy explanation. All he knew was that he wanted you, he’d always wanted you. He needed you here, here beside him.

Taeyong kneeled by your legs, his face upturned to you.

“If you want to kill me. Then do it." You plucked up the courage, "Please don’t torture me.”

Taeyong shook his head, his brow furrowed. He didn’t have such intention. How could he possibly get you to believe him?

Taeyong stood up unexpectedly. You raised your bandage hands to shield yourself from the blow you expected. Taeyong’s guilt swelled, it tore threw him like a bullet grazing his heart. All of a sudden he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face into your hair. He clumsily apologized, over and over.

You went rigid, unsure how to react.

“I’m so sorry,” His voice crumbled, “I’m so sorry for everything Y/N.”

“Just one bite,” Taeyong offered sweetly, a spoonful of cooled soup hovering in the air. 

You grimaced, childishly avoiding his spoon. 

“Please,”

“Not until you untie me.” You quibbled, using your chin to nudge in the direction of your bound wrists. 

Over the last few days, Taeyong stayed by your side. He’d talk, sometimes about trivial things like the weather, other times he’d share stories about his boys. He’d watch the movies he let you pick, otherwise, he’d watch you whilst you read books off his bookcase. 

Despite, your best efforts not to directly interact with him, you found yourself less and less frightened of Taeyong. His concern, his benevolence—you despised the part of yourself that saw the resemblance between this Taeyong and your childhood friend. 

Taeyong lowered the spoon and placed it back into the bowl, “If I untie your wrists you’re going to try an escape through the window again,” His eyes flickered towards your bandaged hands, “I can’t have you hurting yourself.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, “I won’t do that again.” You willed yourself to grumble the words.

Taeyong’s tired face flashed upward, a hopeful smile growing on his lips. He reached down and undid the knot that secured you to the chair. While the silk rope fell to your feet, you stretched your arms, bending your wrists back and forth. 

“Eat,” He pushed the bowl towards you.

It had been a while since you’d last given up and eaten the food presented to you. 

I do have to conserve my energy...

You slowly picked up the spoon and scooped up some soup. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you’d been until you tried your first mouthful. The rest of the soup was quickly devoured.

Taeyong was content you were eating again. He watched you, adoring the cute scrunch your nose made when a droplet of soup touched it. He had every urge to wipe it away with his hand but held back in fear of startling you.

“Would you like some more?” 

You shook your head, knowing even if you were to say yes, Taeyong wouldn’t be the one to leave and retrieve it. If you wanted to get rid of Taeyong you’d have to try a lot harder. 

“I’m actually quite sleepy.” You faked a yawn, rubbing your eyes, “I’m just going to take a nap.” 

You plopped yourself down onto Taeyong’s mattress, pulling the duvet over your legs. Over the last few nights, one of your arms had been tied to the bedpost to prevent another reckless escape attempt. Taeyong, however, had also been in the corner of the room perched on an ottoman. His hawk-like vision never wavered from you, fearing if he’d close his eyes, you’d simply vanish from his presence. 

You observed the dark bags under his eyes and his sickly pale complexion. 

“You should leave and get some sleep,” Your tone was neutral, “Or I’ll just escape when you pass out from sleep deprivation.”

You noted the alarm on Taeyong’s features by your use of the word ‘escape’. 

“I’m joking,” You tried to keep up the little repour you’d built, “But you really should get some sleep.” You lay down on the pillow, turning your back to him. 

After a short pause, you heard Taeyong begin to move about. A silly part of yourself thought perhaps he was heading towards the door. You were wrong. 

You felt the other side of the mattress slump down. Before you had a chance to move, Taeyong coiled his arms around your frame, pulling you close against his chest. 

“What are you doing?” You stammered. 

“Making sure you don’t leave.” His breath tickled down your neck. 

All tempts for an escape tonight were futile. You sighed, sinking into him. There was no way he was letting go of you tonight.

Past. 

“She’s dead.”

Taeyong was frozen from shock. 

She can’t be. Y/N’s not dead. 

After all he’d done to ensure you’d come out of the massacre alive. Shujin, his partner was lying to him. He had to be. 

“That can’t possibly be true.”  Taeyong’s voice trembled. 

 “It is,” Shujin grinned, “Too bad you ran out of bullets. You could have made her death quick. Painless. Instead, she died a slow and agonizing death.”

“No,” Taeyong’s voice cracked, his eyes watered, “You’re lying to me.” 

“I’m not,” Shujin almost sounded gleeful. 

Taeyong’s vision blurred, his knees buckling until he hit the ground. He had purposely emptied his magazine before entering the room you were in. He had foolishly thought he could be the one to save you, but instead, he’d been the one to prolong you’re suffering. 

Present.

“Does it hurt?”

You were beginning to doze off, begrudgingly finding Taeyong’s warmth quite comfortable. Your bodies were snuggled close, your legs intertwined together.  

“My hands are okay,” You absently mumbled.

Taeyong reached for one of your bandages. He brushed his fingers across them.

“And what about the scar on your neck?”

You didn’t answer, sleep had come too soon to consume you.

You must have been dreaming when you felt lips sweep across your neck, leaving a feathery kiss on your scar.

NETWORKS: -​

MONI’S NOTE: Part three! I hope you like it! I would much appreciate your thoughts, comments, reblogs and likes are extremely valued.

TAGLIST: @advent-entertainment, @tyongluvs, @blackswann-53098, @straykidsftnct, @justineasian, @jaehyunpeachyy

[chrissology]

HBO Joel is resonating with me so much more than game Joel ever did and… the story of TLOU is just completely coming together for me.

[zeb-z]

people who are like ‘oh cDream is morally grey, he’s morally grey’ because they want a villain with some sort of morality and sympathy as if cSam isn’t Right There

[cherrysnax]

need to preface this by saying I looooove Felicia sm but god it’s so frustrating that when she pops up she gets to keep her personality, her depth, her everything, even in like her very few appearances but MJ has to get EVERYTHING WIPED AWAY even in the comics??? but literally the only close to faithful adaptions of her are spectacular, some of the 90s show and PART of the raimi movies and it’s only slivers!!!! And usually if mjs around Gwen doesn’t exist so we never the catalyst to her and peters bond, their shared grief that Peter can’t understand at first <\3

[yoongsisbae]

Stories by Member

JJK

Not a Creature was Stirring You wake up Christmas Eve night not to find Santa, but to find a man cold and shivering on your front porch. Clothes tattered, cuts on his body, out in the snow. You find out he’s not as helpless as he appears. Kind of cute, kind of scary, very buff Jungkook Fantasy AU. Spring Day Still with You [Sequel to Not a Creature was Stirring] You ran away from the cold, Jungkook ran with you, warming each other’s hearts. But within the cycle of life, there is death, and as spring blooms, the blood still lays soaked in the dirt. You ran and they chased. Hybrid!Jungkook.

Banana Milk It’s Jungkook’s Birthday, will he get his birthday wish?

The Fantasy You and your boyfriend try out a new form of role play, but it just keeps going wrong…

I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late?

Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-

Campfire Burning A steamy fic inspired by a certain vlive.

Seven Days a Week Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week. idol!jungkook x noona!reader

Go Home, You're Drunk! - 75% “Who…are…you…” “Your worst nightmare, sweetheart.” “Really? Because you look like you belong in a boyband.” whacky and dark & for all the girlies who love an unhinged yandere character

The Snap - 70% The only surviving member of BTS, it takes Jungkook five years to find happiness again. And then life snapped back. What is Jungkook going to do now?

KTH

Christmas with a Vampire There once was a time when holidays were warm and special, Taehyung remembers. To you, even in his coldness, Taehyung is all you need for Christmas. Cyber-punk futuristic AU with a self-hating vampire Tae.

BTS Song Fic (Blue and Grey) Sad song. Sad story. Sad author. Happy reader?

V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you. Superclumsysuperhero!RMverse AU.

PJM

Christmas Mass Every Sunday, like clockwork, as designed and ordained, you sit quietly. Pray. Christmas mass comes, tonight your congregation dresses beautifully, like ornaments placed in a row right in front of God. Your priest, stands at the head like an angel atop the tree, commanding and pious and hauntingly handsome. Red. You’re a good faithful girl. You were taught to be, punished to be. You pray for respite, for something more than the condemnation this cold and icy town bestows upon you. Sinners. The coldness permeates your bones, you’re always scared. Tainted. Terrified of sin, terrified by your thoughts for your priest. Sacrilegious. This Christmas prayers are answered by no God. Demon AU. Dark smut.

You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name You ran away from your responsibilities, but they caught you and tried to lay claim to your body. If your life was never going to be yours anyways, you decided might as well give it away and make a deal. fairyprince!Jimin

KNJ

Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, RM Best friends 2 Lovers. Idiots 2 Lovers. Lovers 2 Enemies? This is a different kind of superhero story ;) Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe. Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there. V is for Villain 1 / 2 / 3 - 90% What does it mean to be a villain? What does it really mean to be a vigilante? A vanquisher of evil, or a victor for the good? Stories praise the fall of devils, cheer at the marvels of the virtuous, and forget the victorious tell a version conveniently veiling their own atrocities. Evilness was once the brightest star in heaven. And goodness, well, morality can so often be contentious. This time, there is the hero with the strength of a hundred men, there is the villain that can vanish his vulnerabilities in a very instant, and then there’s you.

I Appreciate Your Apology A Christmas party has you on thin ice with your favorite dom. Daddy Joon appreciates your apology, but does he accept it? daddydom!Joon smut, PWP, filth, aka Joon edging you until you see sleighbells.

Cold Feet You don’t want to get married anymore, what does Namjoon want? 

JHS

Day Dream The days are hotter, the nights are hotter too. You sleep, restless. Tired, you sleep more, you sleep and you dream and you meet the dream walker and things somehow become even steamier. Sandman!Hoseok Dream Analysis / Alternate Ending 

Disco Winter Ball You and your friend Hoseok are best friend buddies going on a date to the annual disco winter ball. But it’s not a date date, okay? You and Hoseok just love music and you love dancing and Hoseok loves watching you dance. Wait not love, not in that way! A friendly love. Just friends. Just two friends who drink a little too much eggnog. HOAL couple holiday special

I Thought You Were Mine? Drunk arguing leads to drunk fuc–

MYG

The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder Fearful, they buried them, stomped them into the dirt. Underneath their boot, scared men were unaware the seeds of hope had planted by their own volition. From the dirt and grime, grew flowers, blooms so tall, eclipsing their hatred. You were strong and unwilling to be cut down any more. Shapeshiftercat!yoongi.

Yoongi is a Rock That’s it. That’s the plot. Yoongi is a rock. Audio Ver. by the talented @voice-over-ff

I Didn’t Mean It, I Still Love You Yoongi made a mistake, will you forgive him? Or is it too late? 

Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! You visit your hometown during the holidays. You and your childhood friend Joon reminisce and you learn more about your smooth tech talker business partner Yoongi. Can he win you over once and for all? Set in Super Clumsy Super Hero RM universe.

King of Corruption [Sequel to Christmas Mass] The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. Demon AU. Dark smut.

KSJ

The Flower Bridge You couldn’t, you didn’t want to, not anymore, the pain was too much, you wanted it to end, so you visited the bridge. Standing at the highest point, the wind stung, but your problems were bigger, your pain was stronger than the whipping air and your anguish deeper than the water below. Tethered in the center, connecting the place you came from and the place you were going, you found another type of bridge and he found you. Ghost!Seokjin.

Meet Cute, Time Loop A story where Seokjin loves you before you love him before he loves you.

Ddak-ji SLAP Jungkook, Seokjin, and you decide to play a game…and then you fu-

Seokjin’s Ho Ho Ho Your boyfriend surprises you with a Christmas dinner on the beach, things get a little steamy, candy canes get sucked, peppermint liquor might be involved, there is definitely some questionable Santa Costume attire, and lots of jolly lovin’! HOAL couple holiday special.

Christmas Lights Out! Agust D vs RM Super Hero Christmas Special! Extended Scene: The Mind Reader, The Telekinetic and The Closet just silly and raunchy and ridiculous, dirty thoughts...it goes there.

Gangnam Girlfriend: Korea’s #1 Celebrity Dating Show with your Host, International Super Star, Jin Welcome to Gangnam Girlfriend! Where Korea’s top eligible singles fight for a chance at love! You're supposed to be playing the dating game right? Not sneaking off in the middle of the night with the show’s host to watch the stars and talk about all your lost love connections, cuddling under a blanket. And even if the choice is clear, Kim Seokjin can't date you, the reason you joined is because you wanted a public relationship, and Jin could neverrr. Even though he wants to finally settle down! But Hybe wouldn't let him join as a contestant so he took the next best thing instead, our story's beloved host, yet now he's regretting his decision as he watches the girl he is starting to fall for fall for someone else, oh no! Meet the Cast / Epi1 - 85%

OT7

SERIES

Bon Voyage: Into the Sea [Fantasy AU] A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters. Member Imagines /Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 /  Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 - 5% / ?

Handshakes of a Lifetime [Soulmate AU] …the meeting room is getting closer and closer, basking you and those around you in warm light, and you think about all the internet comments people write about this kind of moment, “she must have saved a country in her past life to experience this.” Playlist / Ch1 / Drabble - JJK / Ch2 / Ch3 / X-mas - JHS / Ch4 / X-mas - KSJ / Ch5 / Ch6 / Ch7 / Ch8 / Ch9 / Ch10 - 10% / ?

Caught! House of Cards [Yandere AU] You needed money. The pandemic offered little options. So you joined a website to make some quick and easy cash. Men paying to look at you, harmless fun, right? It was a decision you didn’t think too much about, you just wanted an income again. Little did you know how dangerous the members of House of Cards were. You weren’t prepared for the consequences of your actions. Watch out! Houses built with cards come tumbling down… Profiles / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4 / Xmas Drabble - KTH / Ch5 - 90% / ?

Run Run Run [Zombie Apocalypse AU Slow Burn] A zombie apocalypse breaks out and you’re stuck on a plane with none other than…BTS! Oh, you thought because you were an Army that would help you survive? Girl think again. Member Poll / Seoul Flow / Yangyang Living / Seoul Town Road / Hwarang Freestyle / Seoul Close / Samsung State of Mind - 5% / The Big Hit Break In! - TBA / ?

T H E T A K E O V E R [BTS Apocalypse / Dystopian AU Thriller] The recruits of Bangtan Academy were trained to be super soldiers, to be the strongest, fastest, most cunning fighters in the world. Now they are being put to the test! You were at the bottom of your class, but you noticed the cracks in the system first, what are you going to do? Run or try to save the world Prequel / Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 - 78% / ?

DRABBLES

BTS (as kisses) / BTS (as holidays) / BTS (as drinks)

BTS Cheering You Up While Studying Korean

MASTERLISTS

Naughty Girl Christmas BTS X-MAS Masterlist

Spring Fling Fantasy Stories that Bloom Masterlist

BTS Supers RM Verse Masterlist (coming soon…)

Original Masterlist

[gglitch1dd]

Us & You Pt4

DILF Kirishima Eijirou x Teacher Reader

Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can’t help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.

Note: Pretty chilled chapter.

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father’s role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It’s very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn’t find another character to be Sachiko’s mom and you’ll see why).

[PART 2] [AO3 Link] [PART 3]

The charity derby was in full swing with people wearing brands so expensive that you didn’t know the names of, crowded around you, sipping on fancy bubbly drinks walking around in the sun before the derby would take place. You stayed glued to Eijiro’s side as he led you and Sachiko forward. This was a very important day for you and you tried not to get too nervous at the realisation of that.

Today was not only the day that Eijiro would be out with you with people he knew closely outside of work, but also the day you would meet his family. You found that rather nerve wrecking. Sachiko had told you about how nice her family was and how they were all basically like each other so if you met Sachiko and Eijiro, you’d get along with everyone. However, you weren’t entirely sure if that was true considering she was their family.

You tried your best to stay calm. You kept a smile on your face as you held onto Eijiro’s arm, wearing an outfit that he had bought you for the occasion (along with several others which you found unnecessary but he was rather insistent of having an excuse to spoil you).

“Daddy, daddy, daddy look!” Sachiko pointed to one of the large deep mahogany horses that were being led on the other side of the fence by a worker. “It’s a thoroughbred horse! Look at how strong he is.” She pointed over at the horse. “Can we bet on that one!”

Eijiro chuckled. “We’ll take a look at all the horses participating and see. What if Thunder is participating?”

Sachiko gasped before turning to you with bright eyes. “Thunder is a horse Daddy and I have been betting on for the past two years now!” She informed you. “He’s really good. I like him.”

You smiled. “Well we better go check if he’s participating today. You think he can still make it?”

She nodded her head raising her head. “I think so. He’s a strong one, but not as strong as my Clyde.” She stated proudly.

You looked to Eijiro with a confused look and a raised eyebrow. “Clyde is her horse. Ironically, he’s a Clydesdale. My father bought him for her.”

“And he’s the best boy ever!” Sachiko exclaimed as she looked around. “Hey, Daddy…” Sachiko furrowed her eyebrows as she swivelled her head left and right. “Where’s Baba?”

“Right behind you, sweetheart.”

Sachiko turned around and she lit up like a Christmas tree. “BABA!” She let out an excited squeal and raced into the arms of a large man. He let out a loud boisterous laugh as he pick up Sachi effortlessly and threw her up into the air. He caught her in his arms and kissed her face, keeping her giggling.

Your eyes widened in shock at the man in front of you. Standing there was a man who was the splitting image of your boyfriend. Albeit he looked older, with crows feet at his eyes showing how much he laughed and grey strands at the side of his head mixing in with deep black that made him look even more handsome. He looked just like your Eijiro. Just older.

He held up Sachiko with one arm like it was nothing as he looked up at her with a broad smile. “There’s my girl.” He said, adoringly as he stared up at her as if she was an actual angel. “How are you, my little star?”

Sachiko smiled. “I’m good, Baba.” She turned to look down to a shorter woman at the man’s side. “Morning, grandma!”

The older looking woman let out a soft chuckle. She had deep red hair that had strands of grey in it as well. She had the warmest pair of golden hazel eyes you had ever seen, with a gentle loving smile on her face. She was dressed chic too, in a pretty dress. She reached up and put a hand to Sachiko’s face. “Morning, Sachi.”

“I missed you, two so much!”

“I missed you too.” He assured her. “Blame your father, he’s always trying to hoard you away from me.”

That made Eijiro pause with an offended look on his face, which made you giggle. Before he could speak on that fact, Sachiko spoke instead. “Baba,” She then looked to you. “This is Ms Y/N. She’s daddy’s girlfriend.” She claimed boldly with a proud smile almost as if she was the one who orchestrated this whole debacle.

Eyes went to you, the couple assessing you for a moment once their granddaughter had pointed you out. You glanced at Eijiro. He gave you a supportive smile, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. You turned back to the two of them. You gave them a smile and bowed in front of them respectfully. “Good morning. My name is L/N Y/N, it’s an honour to meet you both.”

First was Eijiro’s mom to let out an impressed hum. She smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, dear. I’m Kirishima Yua, and this big man over here,” She motioned to her right to the large man. “Is my husband, Kirishima Takeo.”

Takeo gave you a bit of a dead stare as he assessed you, making you feel as if you were under a microscope. He then smiled, and slowly that smile turned into a smirk. “So you’re the person my son has been obsessing over.” He let out amusedly.

Eijiro let out a cough as he glared at his father. “Dad.”

Takeo shrugged, making Sachi giggle. “I’m not lying.” He stated plainly. He looked back to you. “It’s nice to meet you, pumpkin.”

You looked to him and then to Eijiro. You looked between the two of them, trying to spot the differences. “Your son never told me he looked so much like you.”

“You never asked.” Eijiro stated with a fold of his arms.

Takeo let out a loud laugh, lifting up Sachiko and putting her up on his large broad shoulders making her giggle. “Yep, my only boy and my twin. Good thing he’s as handsome as his old man.” He boldly claimed with a broad grin on his face, making you giggle.

Yua rolled her eyes with a swat to his arm. “Don’t mind Takeo, all our children look like him. Kirishima genes are strong.”

“I can see it with Eijiro and Sachi.” You stated as you found a place beside her.

Eijiro nodded his head proudly, like Sachiko had done not too long ago. “Damn right.” He said.

Sachiko looked down at her grandfather, holding onto his head. “Where are we going?”

“To take you to say hi to your cousins and aunts. Then we can go betting.” Takeo revealed to her. She let out a celebratory ‘yes’ making him chuckle.

You watched quietly as Eijiro said hi to his parents and Sachiko sat talking to her grandfather, holding onto her grandfather’s hair. She waved her legs forward and back as she sat on his shoulders. You eventually met their very large family. There were so many of them and they all looked so much like each other. They were very much like each other and very warm and open hearted.

You had seen Akari again and met her sons and saw pictures of her newborn daughter. You were surprised to meet Akari’s identical twin, Ayah, who was a paediatrician. Considering today was a family day at the Derby, you got to meet a lot of them and heard that it wasn’t even all of them.

You held Sachiko’s hand as you, Takeo and Sachi moved to check one of the booths that stated which horses to bet on. You had a hat on your head, blocking out the sun from your face and on your head. The three of you finally reached the overhead shade of the booth but then Sachiko stopped.

You looked down to the girl who raced to hide behind you. She gasped as she tried not to be seen. You raised an eyebrow looking back at her and so did Takeo. He tilted his head. Sachiko ducked back. “Oh no.”

“What’s up Sachi?” You asked her, putting a hand on her head.

Sachiko looked up at you and then looked forward. “It’s Asahi.” She whispered up to you.

You looked forward to see a brunette boy in a wheelchair. He had a bright smile as he looked up at his father with gleaming green eyes and dimples on his face. He had freckles littered all over his cheeks. Your eyebrows raised. You knew that boy. He was in your maths class in a year above Sachiko. He perked up, turning to look at the three of you before smiling broadly. “Miss Y/N!” He waved a hand over to you as he turned himself around.

You chuckled as you smiled over to him, the three of you moving forward. “Hey there, Asahi.”

“Morning Miss Y/N. It’s so good to see you.” Asahi looked up to Takeo. “It’s great to see you too, Kirishima-san.”

Takeo chuckled as he ruffled the boy’s curly hair. “It’s good to see you, Asahi. You’re looking stronger.” He praised.

Asahi sent up one of his dimpled smiles. “I’ve been practising in the pool. My physio said I’m getting better and faster. Isn’t that right, dad?” He turned to loop up at the tall green haired man behind him.

“That’s right, buddy.” He praised before looking at you. He lifted up his dark sunglasses to reveal the same captivating emerald eyes. A smirk went to his face, a dimple in his right cheek. “Midoriya Izuku, tech-multi-millionaire genius philanthropist, or Asahi’s father.” He introduced himself confidently making you chuckle.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh so which one is it?”

Midoriya smirked, his eyes looking you up and down quickly before settling on your eyes once more. “It can be anything you want it to be.”

You put a hand to your chest and bowed. “Forgive me. I’m Ms L/N Y/N, I teach your son maths.” You informed him, making his eyebrow twitch up.

“Sorry I missed school on Thursday and Friday, Ms Y/N.” He apologised with a bow of his head. “I was at the hospital, but I’m alright now. I promise I’ll finish all my work by Monday.”

You crouched down closer to him with a smile. “It’s no problem, Asahi. I know your trying to stand on your own two feet so it’s no problem at all. I just don’t want you falling behind, okay?” You pinched his cheek making a soft pink blush go to his face. His eyes widened and he nodded his head sincerely.

Izuku was quiet for a moment before turning to Takeo. “Girlfriend?” He asked inquisitively.

Takeo chuckled as he shook his head, folding his arms. “Nope. Eijiro’s.” Izuku hummed as he nodded his head looking back at you.

Asahi looking around you before looking back up at you. “Excuse me, Miss but did Sachiko come to today’s derby?” He asked.

You opened your mouth to reply when you realised that Sachiko wasn’t behind you. You furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly stood up looking around for the girl in a crimson red dress with short black hair. “Sachi?” You asked confused. Immediately Takeo looked around as well, noticing that the girl had disappeared as well. “Where is she? She was just here… Sachi!” You turned around trying to find her.

Eijiro trusted you with his daughter, he trusts you with Sachiko because he knew that Sachiko would be safe with you. And now you couldn’t even find her. How could you lose her? She was an eleven year old girl, Lord knows what could happen to her on her own.

You felt your breathing rapidly increase in fear as your heart started to beat out of your chest. You looked around. “Y/N… Y/N… Y/N.” Takeo took you by your shoulders, making you pause. He saw you start to panic, your hands together. Takeo had his back towards the Midoriya’s keeping your panic out of sight from Asahi. “Honey, breathe. Keep your eyes on me. Breathe for me. In…” You kept your eyes up on his ruby eyes, and took a deep breath. “And out…” You let out a breath. “Good girl.” You felt a warm hand on your face making you breath out again. Takeo smiled down at you, the large man calming you down as despite the fact that it was his granddaughter that was missing. “How about you and me go find her, okay?”

“We'll look as well.” Izuku stated with a nod of his head before looking down at Asahi. “Right, buddy?”

Asahi nodded his head fiercely with a smile on his face. He put his hands on his push rings. “Don't worry, Ms Y/N and Kirishima-san.”

Izuku hummed as Asahi began to push himself forward. He kept a careful eye on his son, not entirely worried. “You okay?”

“Yep.” Asahi voiced, wanting to push himself.

You kept a smile on your face, wiping at your eyes with a sigh. “I'm sorry. That wasn't very professional of me.”

Takeo shook his head as he took out a handkerchief his wife made him and handed it over to you. “No, it’s okay sweetheart. You are allowed to feel, it’s normal.” He reminded you as you wiped at your eyes. You handed back the handkerchief and smiled. Takeo offered his arm to you with a smile. “Come on, lets take a walk around. We can even talk, just you and I.”

You nodded your head as you held onto his large arm, the warmth of his skin going through the shirt he was wearing. You held onto him as Takeo led you along, his tall frame towered over you as you walked side by side.

“You and Eijiro met at Sachi's school?”

“Yes,” You responded. “Eijiro had been called to school due to an incident that happened concerning Sachiko and another learner. However, we only started talking a month later when we met again after school at a PA meeting.”

Takeo nodded his head, digesting that piece of information. “Does he treat you right?”

You were surprised to hear such a question from him. It was an odd thing that he was thinking about you when it was his son that was still in the equation. You felt a flush up your face but nodded. “Yes. He really does. A bit more than I deserve, if I were honest with you.” You expressed with a scratch to the back of your neck. “He spoils me too much. I honestly feel so bad for how much he does for me. I don't feel like I'm reciprocating in return.”

Takeo frowned as he looked down at you but less in anger and more in slight worry. The older man had a caring but strict way about him. It was almost strange. He was so large, domineering even, and clearly much more experienced in life than you but he never come off as condescending. “It's a man's job to take care of you, sweetheart. You shouldn't feel the need to take care of yourself. You deserve to be pampered, spoiled and respected. Relationships are like that. A man wouldn't feel the need to make your life easier if you didn't make being in a relationship with him worth it. Which means you make your relationship worth it.” He explained to you. You looked up at him, all your attention on him as you nodded to his words as he looked deep into your eyes so intently. “Tell me, Y/N… how do you feel about my son?”

The question was another one that had you shocked. You weren't entirely sure what to say but you knew that you couldn't think about the answer forever either. So you said the first thing that came out of your head. “Warm.” It was Takeo's turn to look surprised. You thought about it some more but you were sure about it now. You nodded your head. “Yes… I feel warm. He makes me feel warm and safe, but I also feel complimented when I'm with him. Not that I feel good about myself but that we compliment each other. He's silly, loud and snores sometimes, but he's loving and caring. His heart is so full and yet so scared. I love him. I really do and I pray that we can stand a lifetime.” You attempted to explain your feelings to Takeo.

Takeo was silent for a moment before looking forward as you walked past people. “My son is a sensitive thing. He's always been sensitive. More so than a lot of his sisters. He was always the first to shed a tear when he was younger, and his feelings were so intense and big often than not they confused me. But that's what makes him Eijiro. He's delicate but strong in his own way, even if he needs help some of the time.  I see how he looks at you, and I see and hear how much he loves you. I think you're good for my son.”

At that, you turn to look at him in surprise. “But… today is the first day you have met me.”

“Believe me, Y/N,” He let out with an amused scoff. “The eyes never lie. You can tell so much from one interaction at two people than you can from knowing a whole history of them. I can tell.” He winked down at you making you giggle. “I knew my wife for nine months before I proposed to her. When you know, you know. I’m not married for forty-five years for no reason.” He humbly flexed. “I'm more… hesitant about your views on us as his family. Although by now, I'm sure Eijiro has told you a lot.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.

You watched the older man hesitate, eyebrows furrowing for a moment. “The Kirishimas… we're a pretty traditional family, to put it simply. I'm in politics myself and the views me and my family have are rather… well some would call them leaning to conservative. I'm pretty sure that Eijiro has explained to you how he got Sachi.” You nodded your head. “I'm just warning you that Eijiro's a family man and you have to be okay with us, to stay with Eijiro.”

Although Takeo was being as nice as he could about the matter, you understood it plain and simple. It made sense and was a sensible argument. You were actually pretty glad to hear that he was talking about this to you. You paused making Takeo pause too. He turned to look at you as you smiled up at him. “Mr Kirishima, in the time that I've known your son, anything and everything he has ever said was either for the good of his child or logical. Never once has Eijiro or Akari tried to enforce anything on me concerning your views on things. I am not bothered by them, nor would I try to change them. That is how you raised your family and that is okay.”

Takeo took a moment to think about what you said and smiled. “I'm glad, pumpkin.” You felt him pat your head, catching you by surprise. The look on your face made him laugh. Before he could say anything, you saw something catch his eye. His eyebrows furrowed as he took a step forward. “Is that… Sachi?”

You turned to look where he was looking. It was then that you caught sight of the black haired girl, but you also noticed she was talking to an adult. The person she was talking to had short puffy blond hair and stood in all black before her. “Who is she talking to?” You asked looking up at Takeo.

The man looked furious as he swallowed down hard. “Bakugou Katsuki.” He told you.

At the name, you turned stiff.

Takeo stepped forward. “Sachiko!” Immediately at the sound of her name, Sachiko jolted in surprise as she looked to see who was calling her. Her eyes landed on her grandfather and you. However, he wasn't smiling. He motioned for her to come over to him. “Come here, now.” The girl turned and bowed to the blond in goodbye before leaving towards Takeo. The blond man looked over to Takeo. He stiffened at the sight of the older Kirishima.  

Sachiko stood before the both of you with a smile. You turned to her putting a hand on her shoulder. “Where did you go, Sachi? You can't just disappear without saying anything.” You told her with a worried look on your face.

“Sorry, I went looking for Aunty Mina.” She told you. “I couldn't find her, but I found that man who knows her and-"

“Sachiko.” At the sound her name, Sachiko turned to look up at Takeo. Takeo had a frown on his face as he kept looking at the blond who now had another blond woman with him and a brunette man stand with him. “I don't want you ever talking to that man again without a family member present, do you understand me?”

Sachiko tilted her head confused; her eyebrows furrowed. “But Baba, I don't understand.”

“Ah, there you guys are.” Eijiro walked over to the three of you with a smile and a cupcake in hand. “The derby is about to start and turns out Thunder is in the race.” He spoke optimistically. Eijiro then noticed the mood of the space he had just walked in. He looked to his father. Eijiro's gaze then moved to the group of blonds and the brunette man that were slowly making their way here. You watched as Eijiro went pale as he froze.

Sachiko noticed this too, not liking the mood of who she was around. She put her hands on her father's free hand. “Daddy? Daddy, what's wrong?” She asked worriedly. Eijiro's pupils went small almost in fear, his hands slightly shaking.

The blond woman was gorgeous, she smirked with red lips and just as captivating eyes that were more of a brick red. She was dressed fashionably, everything complementing her body. She was a beautiful woman and by the look on her face, it was clear she knew it. “Well I'll be. Kirishima Takeo. It’s been a while.” She spoke. You watched her viperous eyes move up and down Takeo's figure. “You’re looking good.”

Takeo’s jaw tensed. “Mitsuki…” He looked to her husband who stood behind her with a gentle smile on her face. At the sight of him, Takeo seemed to ease slightly, not seeming to have any issues with him. “Masaru and Katsuki.” He briefly looked to their blond son before looking at Mitsuki again. “You're here.”

She chuckled. “Did you expect otherwise? The Bakugous are the top ranked fashion brand in Japan after all.” She reminded him.

You looked to Eijiro noticing his expression hadn't changed. You quickly put your hand over his, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “Eijiro…” At the sound of his name he turned to you. You gave him a worried look before his eyes moved to a worry Sachiko.

“Actually, we were meaning to talk to you or Akari, business never ends afterall. Might we enjoy the race with you?” Mitsuki suggested.

Takeo frowned at the thought. “No thank you. It’s a rare day for my family to all be out and about like this together.”

Mitsuki smirk only broadened. “Oh but on the contrary, Takeo, we are joined by blood aren't we… Eijiro?” The question made Takeo glare as Mitsuki only seemed firm in her statement.

“Daddy?” Sachiko spoke as she tugged on Eijiro's arm.

Immediately the Bakugous looked to her. Mitsuki’s eyebrows raised in surprise at the girl, Masaru’s gaze softened realising who she was. However, Katsuki turned pale as he froze at the sight of her. With Katsuki's eyes on his daughter, Eijiro snapped out of his daze.

He frowned. “Sachiko, go with Y/N and get cupcakes. Aunty Tamami is there, and she'll take you to the rest of the family.” He ordered simply. He glanced at you, and you nodded understandingly.

You took Sachiko's hand trying to lead her away from the rest of the adults. “Come on, Sachi.” You spoke softly.

“But-" She started off as she looked to her father again. “But Daddy are you-"

“Kirishima Sachiko, do not argue with me right now.”

She paused at his tone, strict, but at the same time almost pleading with her to leave. She hesitated as she glanced at the blond man once more, before bowing her head respectfully, in the way she was taught to behave especially in public. “Yes, Daddy.” You offered her your hand and she allowed you to take her away, heading to get cupcakes.

A hum came out of the blond woman as she watched Sachiko walk away. “Oh isn't she gorgeous?” Mitsuki commented as she folded her arms. “My pretty little grand-"

“What do you want, Mrs Bakugou?” Eijiro asked interrupting her as he frowned mimicking his father's defensive stance.

Mitsuki looked to Katsuki. Katsuki swallowed down hard before looking at Takeo instead. “A business proposal if you will. We would like to purchase some of your diamonds to start a jewellery line, to put it simply.”

Takeo hesitated but looked to Eijiro. “That's for Eijiro to decide whether it’s worth the business venture. That's his department.” He revealed, turning all eyes to Eijiro.

Eijiro looked to Katsuki, emotionlessly. “Send your proposal to my secretary. I'm not working today.” He dismissed.

“But it would be such a good venture, would it not?” Mitsuki asked with a raised eyebrow. “The Bakugou and Kirishima brand together, wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

Eijiro didn’t respond as he looked down at his watch. “Excuse us, but the race is about to start.”

-Glitch1d

[doromoni]

Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1

Act 2 . Part 2 : For the World to See

Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance

Warning : Morally Grey Characters , Swearing

A/N : Buckle up , folks! This one’s smth else.

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious.

< Previous Next >

Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

All are fair in love and war. An overused idiom, but one that you believed was necessary for the actions you were about to do. You knew that it was wrong to use Max to get back on Lewis. But you were not perfect, far from it.

Not when your vision had clouded red as you looked at the picture that flashed on your phone’s screen. It was a photo of Lewis kissing another girl in a bar. It hasn’t been a month since your split with Lewis and he had the fucking audacity to pull this shit.

What’s worse is that over in that same month, Lewis had been trying to reach out and kept saying that he was sorry and that he’d change. Gifts and flowers kept appearing and delivered to your new apartment with written notes from Lewis. For some time, you considered taking the British driver back.

You even became guilty for the fact that your relationship with Max was developing into something more.

Now, you were glad that you started talking to the Dutch Red Bull Driver. It didn’t hurt that you found Max extremely attractive and desirable.

You couldn’t help it , the Dutch driver was aggressive and a menace on track, but when the helmet went off — he was the sweetest and the most caring partner a girl could ask for. The Max you’ve gotten to know, even for a short period was the perfect distraction.

It all started after you left your apartment with Lewis you went straight to Milton Keynes to meet with Christian Horner , where you bumped into Max.

He was doing a routine check-up, just to ensure that he was perfectly ok after the crash at Silverstone.

You felt partly at fault for his crash and guilt had driven you to apologize even if it wasn’t your actual doing. Max had laughed it off and jokingly said that he’d forgive you if you went out for coffee with him. And to your surprise, you found yourself agreeing.

The coffee went great, and your conversation with Max was easy. His humor was dry, yet you find yourself laughing and enjoying your time with the Dutch Driver.

“I watched Christian Horner, waiting for you to come out of Mercedes and act like he didn’t expect you when you bumped into him” Max exaggerated.

“Mhmm… your team principal would turn stalker mode just to tell me that I did a good job “ You laughed as you rolled your eyes at the handsome driver.

“I swear, Y/N. Checo and I were passing by and Christian was crouched down behind a bush! “

Max bluffed. Making you double over laughing.

Your coffee with Max then turned to lunch and lunch turned into dinner. Then that turned into traveling to Monaco in his private jet to attend the party for the drivers and team principals.

The speed of the development of your relationship with Max was starting to scare you. You and Lewis just broke up , you didn’t want to take advantage of Max’s affection for you.

You were staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your makeup was exquisite and your hair was perfectly done. The dress that Max bought for you fits like a glove. You looked perfect. But you couldn’t help but feel the pit in your stomach grow.

You knew that you would be facing Lewis and Toto at some point tonight and honestly you weren’t sure that you were ready just yet.

But You didn’t want them to see you as weak and helpless . If they could move on easily then you’ll play along. You’ll beat them at their own game.

With a final swipe of lipstick. You were ready

“Max?” You called out to the room

“Am in the living room” Max replied

You walked out of the bathroom and headed your way towards Max. Your Louboutin heels clicked with every step on the marble floor.

As you neared the Dutch Driver. His head turns towards you and his eyes widen as they travel your form, repeatedly.

Max made his way towards you. You were both silent. Max took your hand and he brought it to his lips, kissing the inside of your wrist — your eye contact never breaking.

“Gorgeous, you look absolutely beautiful” Max uttered spinning you slowly.

“Thank you. You look handsome Max” You said a bit breathless. Handsome was an understatement, Max looked like a Greek god. Not many times do people see him outside RedBull uniforms, but when they do, people gawk at the driver — you were no exception.

“I love you in black, have I told you that?” You said as you slid your hands up Max’s chest feeling every muscle on your path.

“Mhm, you have. Have you noticed that I’ve been wearing just that recently?” Max countered as he pulled you closer by the waist.

“ I have, and I never did thank you. And I’m sure that your fans thank you too.” You winked at the Red Bull driver, making him chuckle and roll his eyes

“The thirst traps are everywhere, don’t remind me” At that you couldn’t help but laugh as you had sent him some links.

“ Toughen up, you’ll be getting more when you’re World Champion”

“When, not If? you’re that confident in me?” Max grip strengthened without him noticing. You knew that he had issues believing in himself. And you knew who was the reason for that.

“Yes, When. Your potential is unlike any other Max! I believe that you will be breaking records and earning championships left and right one day. “ You truly believed what you said. You felt Max kiss your temple as he whispered “Thank you, Y/N.”

Max was never the speaking kind when it came to emotions. So his opening up even a little was an enormous step.

What did that mean for your blurry relationship? You didn’t know. But it was a step somewhere for sure.

“Now come on! We’re already late.” You tugged on Max’s hand towards the door of his suite.

***

Arriving at the venue, your nerves had finally set in and you were starting to feel a little anxious.

“Hey, are you alright? We can ditch the party if you don’t feel like it” Max whispered to you concerned.

You have never been used to being in fancy balls all glammed up, even in your time with Mercedes and Lewis being your boyfriend. Being that your relationship was kept a secret, you have never joined Lewis to the Galas and Balls.

But now, Max Verstappen was guiding you towards the entrance with pride — not shying away from the cameras and the people who greeted us. He was proud to show you off.

“No, no. Just a bit apprehensive seeing Toto, that’s all” you said back

“Oh! Are you nervous that when you see him you’ll shred him to pieces? Got it” Max tried to joke. You couldn’t help but laugh as you affectionately hit his chest lightly.

“Exactly that! You do get me, Max Emilian Verstappen” You joked back, feeling thankful for Max.

“But really, don’t be scared. I’m here and I promise to protect you. No matter what”

You gazed up at the Dutch driver with so much emotion.

“Thank you, Max” Now it was your turn to say thank you.

You and Max had led yourselves toward the drivers of Ferrari

“Max! You’re finally here!” Charles exclaimed not fully realizing that you were there. His eyes lingered on you as if he was trying to know who you were.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to realize. Max was amused, while Carlos had finally figured out who you were.

“Y/N??” The monegasque driver gasped

“Took you long enough, Charles” You smiled at the Ferrari driver, while Max and Carlos had their conversation.

You and Charles weren’t that close but you two were friends, because of Seb. While you and Seb were close to a certain degree — you had been there during his battle with Lewis and you just naturally formed a friendship around that.

“I haven’t been seeing you in Mercedes. Is everything all right?” Charles asked.

“The NDA stops me from saying anything. But all I can say is that I’m happy that I left” You explained to Charles with a dry chuckle.

And forever the gossiper, Charles could not help but ask

“So is it true? You’re moving to Red Bull?”

“Well ~ you need to find out for yourself eh?” You winked at the Monaco-born driver. You have grown thirsty so you went to get something to drink.

Max looked like he was in deep conversation still with Carlos, so you just went your way.

As you ventured your way towards the refreshments, you were stopped by heathen himself, The boss that tried to screw you over.

Toto fucking Wolff.

Your feeling of anxiety had turned to hatred and anger in an instant. Maybe Max was right with you ripping the Mercedes Principal to shreds.

“ It’s a surprise to see you here, Y/L. Did Red Bull send you an invitation? “ Toto said with hidden condescension.

You chuckled at the audacity. He was once again trying to belittle you.

“ I find that hard to believe, considering that you monitor my every step. Heard about Red Bull huh? Keeping tabs on me Wolff? Scared to lose? ” You mockingly tutted the principal.

“Why would I even do that? Mercedes is better without you! Good fucking riddance . We will win this Championship without you!“ Toto rebutted, the anger in his face was rising.

“Mhmm, sure. Now say that again , this time like you actually believe it” you said so patronizingly with the sweetest, tooth-rotting smile you could muster.

“FUCK YOU!” Bingo! Toto fucking Wolff had reached his limits. And for the first time, you enjoyed every last bit.

But you were nowhere near finished.

“Aww, thanks! Fuck you too. But please do tell me, Toto, just how much money did you lose when investors started pulling out when I left?” The sweet smile on your lips turned menacing

You were in the hell hole of Mercedes for 6 years, you knew their sore spots like it’s the back of your hand. And money was one of them.

“ You know Torger, one might ask, if you say your specialty is managing a business and you’re losing money now. Would that mean that your existence in Mercedes is fucking useless?” You asked with faux interest, a finger underneath your chin as a Cheshire grin spread across your face.

You could see the red rising in the Mercedes Principal’s Face and any minute now he would explode in rage.

“Oh! And also, how’s next year’s car going for you?” And you did just that. You broke Toto fucking Wolff in front of everyone.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH! HOW DARE YOU? I SWEAR I’LL KI—“ Toto had started to close the distance between the two of you with his fist inbound.

But before he could land a blow at you, He was forcefully pulled at the collar and restrained with an arm twisted to his back.

And it was all done by Max Verstappen. He had been watching you the entire time and he believed that you could hold your own. He knew that you could fight your own battles. But even then Max knew when to step up and save you from getting hurt.

However, no matter how much Max tried to protect you, he was still one person. He could prevent Lewis Hamilton from dragging you somewhere where no one was to see.

“What the fuck Y/N?? What even was that?!” Lewis bombarded you with questions. His grip on your wrist proved to be painful by the second

“Fucking let go of me, Lewis!” You yanked your hand away from him.

“What are you even doing here with Verstappen?! Seriously Y/N?? Crashstappen? Out of everyone you chose the enemy? We just broke up and now you’re all over him?” Lewis said so venomously, and with so much disgust that would’ve probably hurt you if anger didn’t consume your system

“You’re the one to talk Lewis!! You’re the first one to fucking dip your dick into another girl! You don’t have the right to judge me! “

“So is this how it is, Y/N? YOU'RE CHOOSING HIM OVER ME?!” Lewis went hysterical and you were just the same and neither of you cared if anyone were to hear you.

“You know what Lewis?! Yes, I’m choosing Max over you! Because, unlike you, He makes do with his promises and he isn’t embarrassed to call me his!”

You stormed out on Lewis. Tears were rolling down your face — you were not sad no, you were angry and frustrated about everything about your past from Mercedes to Lewis Hamilton.

You found yourself inside the lady's room, walking back and forth. You looked at yourself in the mirror and mascara had run down your cheeks. You have tried to wipe it when you heard a voice from outside.

“Y/N? Are you ok in there? Can we talk? ” Max knocks from the other side of the bathroom door. His voice held concern and panic

You slowly opened the door, facing the Dutch driver who was clad in an expensive Italian suit, perfectly tailored for his form.

“Max … before anything happens. I need to tell you something about Lewis and me” You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Your sights on the shoes that you chose for him.

Your eyes shift upward, as you feel Max’s finger on your chin lifting your face up

“Y/N, I know. And I don’t care” Shock was evident in your face. You thought that your relationship with Lewis was undiscovered. But all this time Max knew

“M-max, I'm so sorry. I swear, I’m not using you as a rebound” You tried to explain yourself. You expected Max to be angry and you left.

But to your surprise, Max‘s hands found their way to your waist pulling you closer. And the words that left his mouth next left you speechless.

“ I don’t care Y/N. As long as I have you by my side, do whatever you want — I’m yours. Use me”

***

“You’ve sent the pictures of Hamilton to her number?”

“Yes , Sir. Verstappen. It’s accomplished.”

Taglist : @vicurious28 @xoscar03 @barnestatic @stelena-klayley @sopheeg @imagandom @4-20-21-12 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @minkyungseokie @d3kstar @kimialaia @cosmicwintr @younxii @ssrcsm @paigem00 @seokjinkismet @wcnorris @jayjay11122 @embersparklz @sam-is-lost @peterholland04 @luckyladycreator2 @lovemesomeescapism @yettobedetermined7 @nikfigueiredo @ironmaiden1313 @alliwantisadonut @uuoozzii @marshmummy @kemillyfreitas @yaesflorist @zoeyjadetice2010 @splaterparty0-0 @likedbygaslyy @myinternettlifeimagine @ilamara @pluviophilefangirl @starssfall @haydensith @adoreleeknw @leilanixx @dr4g0ngirl @forfeityourbugs @choisannyreads @justtprachisblog @felicityforyou

[brianwashere]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the spiderverse characters (Miguel, Hobbie, Noir) meeting and reacting to male spider reader who abnormal tall (like 7 foot kinda abnormal) and morally grey for instance will kill if it means that it could be beneficial rather than having the villain go to jail???

(Also who would end up falling for reader?)

FIRST ATSV REQ LETS GO

I made Miguel so submissive and breedable real lmfaooo. Also ignore how many HCs are in Noir’s, I’ve actually never written for him before lol. Oh and since it’s not extremely clear, Hobie’s is platonic

**I do not own any characters or part of the franchise from marvel or sony**

Summary: go to req

Tw: cussing, death, discussion of murder, stuff like that

~Miguel~

Color Miguel intimidated bcc oh my god

You’re taller than him. With his same morals. He’s fucking reeling

When you stand next to him he’ll cross his arms and puff out his chest

You’ll notice and be like “What’re you doing…?” And he’ll act all ignorant like “hm? What? No I’m not doing anything…”

Once he gets over your sheer largeness he’ll become more comfortable and relaxed around you

He falls HARD and QUICK

Even doing missions with you becomes difficult for him, the first time he got choked up or distracted he immediately stopped doing any missions with you

It was like whiplash for you because you were doing all these high risk missions with Miguel regularly then he suddenly drops you with no explanation

You corner him one day and demand to know why he’s acting so weird

You literally corner him…

Standing over him and all angry

He’s feeling 5 different conflicting emotions all at once

He tried to web away from you and without thinking about it you grab him by his neck and shove him back against the wall

He whimpered. WHIMPERED.

You immediately know what’s up and laugh at him some then tell him you feel the same

And that’s how Miguel O’Hara got a shredded gigantic boyfriend

~Noir~

When he first glanced at you he couldn’t help but stare a bit.

I mean. DAMN. What’re they feeding you?

He couldn’t help but say something

“They make them big in your universe?”

The joke surprised you bcc a Spider-Man dressed in all black and a sick hat and coat just teased you.

You laugh some and respond.

“And they make ‘em cute in yours?”

He chokes some.

You smirk at him and introduce yourself

He collects himself quickly and introduces himself too

When you find out he’s from an older timeline

You can’t help but flirt a bit more

“Oh so I should take you to dinner first?” You say with a grin.

You came on so heavy he stayed silent for a bit, just blinking at you

He avoids you for a bit, not because he doesn’t like you or is weirded out. He’s just trying to learn how to respond to your flirting in a way that isn’t staring owlishly

You two are on a mission together and long story short the villain didn’t need to go back to his universe to restore the timeline and was beyond the standard villain evil

while he was fleeing from you two he flung a child into the air and let them drop, expecting them to distract the both of you

“Noir!” You yelled

“On it.” He immediately responded and caught the kid, taking them to safety and comforting them

When you caught the villain you couldn’t hold yourself back.

Needless to say Noir came back to find you covered in blood and dangerously quiet.

It was a sight to see and not one he’ll forget.

“If you’re gunna give me the whole ‘killing makes you as bad as them’ lecture you can save it. I don’t regret it now and I wont regret it ever.” You said firmly, still not meeting his gaze

He just walked over to you and rested a hand on your shoulder. “Good. You shouldn’t.” Was all he said. The return to the spider society was silent

There was a silent agreement between the two of you not to discuss that mission with anyone else. That it was something too personal, somehow.

A few weeks later he asks you out

“Do you want to go out for egg creams sometime?” He asked

“What the hell is an egg cream.”

It’s like the olive theory but with egg creams

He loves your size and secretly loves it when you rest your arm on his head/shoulder.

~Hobie~

He laughs when he sees you

“You been drinking your milk, mate?” He chuckled

You rolled your eyes at him.

You talk with him when you next see hi ma few days later

He just sort of appears around you and you don’t question it once so ever

Someone asks why you two are always seen together in a rude tone and Hobie just throws an arm around your shoulder and says “see this lad right here, he’s my best friend. We actually sleep in the same bed—“

You scoff at him and push his arm off

You know he’s being sarcastic and just trying to get the person to fuck off but calling you his best friend made something in your heart flutter

Protectiveness? Loyalty? Endearment? Who the hell knew.

All you know is from then on you started seeking him out more

You sort of became a older brother figure to him

You started checking in on him semi regularly

But one time he stopped responding and you hadn’t seen him for over a week

Obviously, you got worried

You decided to go visit his universe to see if something happened

When you got there your eyes were immediately violently assaulted with flashing images and constantly changing scenery

It threw you off mid-swing and you crashed to the ground

You had to shut your eyes so you wouldn’t get nauseous

Then you felt a hand on your shoulder and squint up to see Hobie who looked confused and concerned

He helps you back to his place and basically tosses you down on his beat up couch then asks why you’re there

You just grumble something about him not responding and not seeing anyone for over a week

He flops down next to you and lays his legs on your lap

“Aw you big bloke, you were worried ‘bout me.” He says smirking

You shove his legs off and stand up

“Don’t get used to it” you say with a grin

[belovedmusings]

Sugar-coated, lies unfolded.

Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto

Explicit Themes 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Part nine of the 'Two + One' story. Click for story masterlist.

Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and he recently just found out that you have feelings for his bandmate, Suguru, and that Suguru reciprocates. He's allowing you to explore that with Suguru...but could you actually do that to him? Sleep with another man?

Relevant tags: sexual tension, thoughts of infidelity, characters with questionable morals, Choso is sweet and loyal, Suguru is charming and sexy, slow burn, no "y/n" for immersion, 2nd POV, reader has no defining characteristics, explicit smut, nipple play (male receiving), oral sex (fem receiving), bathroom sex, love bites, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, handjob

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Candy (Doja Cat), I Want It All (Cameron Grey), High Enough (K.Flay, RAC)

A/N: I think satan himself came over me when i wrote this chapter so...enjoy ;)

Read on Ao3 if you prefer!

Or read below cut:

The next morning had gone completely normally. You had woken up with Choso, shared your usual morning kiss, then got ready for the day beside him. You’d had breakfast, your normal conversations, and when he had to go to meet with the band, you had kissed him goodbye and exchanged your ‘I love you’s with him.

It’s when you’re going about your normal day just after you’ve had lunch that you receive a phone call.

Suguru. 

He’s never called you before. Choso should be with him–did something happen?

Hurriedly, you accept the call. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Suguru’s buttery voice comes through the speaker casually, and it disarms you from any immediate threats.

“Hey,” You reply, sitting back. “Is everything okay?”

“What, I can’t just call you?” Suguru chuckles on the other end, the sound rattling around inside of you like a marble in a glass jar. You hear a sigh. “Well, I did call you for a reason.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“He told me about everything,” Suguru says, and your suspicions are confirmed. “He told me about that dream you had of me–which we’ll come back to–then the conversation you had afterwards. You told him all about us, it seems.”

You draw in a breath. “Yes, I-I did…”

“And he told me he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. He felt a little uncomfortable, but then because it’s me, he said it didn’t bother him. Apparently the two of us showing restraint is what let him come to the conclusion to trust us…and let us explore things together.”

You’re worrying your lip so hard between your teeth as you listen that a layer of skin is peeling off. “Yeah…he…he did say that.”

“So…he’s given us his permission,” Suguru states slowly. “On his conditions, of course.”

You know what Suguru is getting at, but there’s just something inside of you reluctant to lean into it. Maybe it’s Choso’s reaction, his patience and unconditional love, or the way the two of you made love the night before. But guilt is killing you. 

“I…” You begin, “Suguru…I don’t think I can do it.”

A beat. Then, a sigh. “...it’s because you feel like you’re taking advantage of him, right?”

“Well, yes…it just doesn’t feel right. He said we could, but what kind of loving girlfriend sleeps with her boyfriend’s bandmate?”

“I understand,” replies Suguru, “I feel the same. It’s like exploiting his kindness, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah, exactly…”

“So, we won’t, then.”

It sounds like a question, even though it’s a statement. “We shouldn’t.”

An unanswer. The two of you are pushing and pulling again.

“Hey, my smoke break is almost over, so I have to go back in. I’ll text you later.”

A part of you is disappointed when he says it. You don’t want to say goodbye yet. You like having him there on the phone.

“Okay,” You respond softly.

“Okay.” 

The call ends, and you put your head in your hands.

What on Earth is your life?

_

Nothing happens for the next four weeks. You don’t see him at all, but he does make it a point to call and text you consistently. Despite not acting on your desires, you grow closer with Suguru over text and phone calls, and if nothing else, he becomes a good friend of yours. 

You and Choso have no issues, and life continues on. You don’t sleep with Suguru, you force yourself not to think of him in any sort of sexual way, and you make peace with it.

Everything is fine up until the release party for the album they had been working on, and recently just completed.

You got done up in makeup, styled your hair, put on a dress suited for the occasion, and went with Choso to Suguru’s place where he’s holding it.

On the way there, you tell yourself nothing will happen. You haven’t reached out to him, asking to see him, you haven’t had another dream, and your thoughts of him have remained innocent. You have your mind in order.

All of that goes to hell immediately when you lay your gaze on Suguru, the moment after you set foot in the house.

He’s there in black jeans and an equally black tank-top, sinfully tight and leaving nothing to the imagination. It’s like he wore that just to remind you of everything that you’ve been lusting after; his bulging muscles, the piercings adorning the centers of his two pecs, the tattoos undulating over his pale skin…and that’s just his body. His face…god, his face.

His inky midnight hair falls in thick tresses down his shoulders, framing a face painters would vy for. Piercings and thick liner rimming his eyes, he’s the closest thing to a rock god you have ever seen.

“Hey,” He greets you, and you think maybe he’s already said ‘hello’ to Choso but you aren’t sure. You muster up a smile, trying your best to salvage your resolve.

“Hi.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment as Choso moves in to set his guitar up with the rest of the band’s cozy set-up in Suguru’s spacious living room.

“You look breathtaking,” He tells you, a softness in his eyes that only serves to complicate you. 

“So do you,” You say, gesturing to him. He just shrugs, and it seems like his golden gaze pierces through you. You both know what you decided on, but right now the air between you is electric.

All it takes is a glance at the opposite corner of the living room to see Choso’s eyes on you, and you suddenly feel as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. You flit your gaze back to Suguru for a second, apologetic, before making your way into the house.

After that, it’s sweet, sweet torture. 

You feel like you’re on high alert the entire soundcheck. You participate as well as you can in assisting with providing the audience perspective, but you’re so focused on acting normal that you can barely remember anything. 

The same goes for the actual release performance. You’d greeted all of Choso’s brothers when they’d arrived, then found your seat at the front of the small folding-chair arrangement, and then fought your way through normal reactions to each song.

You’d heard them all before, as Choso had both played them for you on his phone and practiced them with his guitar, but watching them all put together live with mood lighting, the band all dressed-up…it’s electric.

Between Choso and Suguru, your eyes are feasting. Two gorgeous men, performing, letting their lined gazes gravitate towards you, twin spotlights.

When the set finishes, the after party starts, and you stand up, Choso welcoming you into his arms and giving you a deep kiss as Larue begins to spin the first round of music. 

“You did amazing,” You tell your boyfriend, smiling up at him. “This album is gonna be so successful.”

He smiles down at you, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips. “You’ve supported me this whole time. I’m so grateful to you.”

Your hand moves to cup his cheek, and you sigh appreciatively. His chocolate locks pulled up into his signature spiky buns, eyes smoked out with purple and lined with unique markings that touch his nose bridge tattoo, the gentle tenderness in his stare…you just adore him.

“You’re precious to me,” You tell him, speaking from the heart, and you can see the light inside of him brighten a bit.

“I love you.”

He gets your heart to pound even now. “I love you too.”

“Choso!”

The sound of his youngest brother’s voice calling out to him pulls you two out of your little bubble, and you turn to see Yuji walking towards you, his other brothers in tow. 

“That was awesome, man!” Yuji says, clapping him on the back. “You gotta introduce us to the band!”

Choso looks at you, unsure to leave you alone at a party full of strangers. You know how important his brothers are to him, so you simply shake your head with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine, baby.”

He gives you a thankful grin, kissing your cheek before leading the mob of his brothers off to Larue first since he’s the closest.

Bass heavy music fills the mood-lit space of his living room, music executives, other artists, models, whoever Suguru and the rest of the band know fill it with their intoxicated, sweaty bodies. You move to the bar of Suguru’s kitchen, overlooking the living room, deciding to fix yourself a drink to pass the time.

You’ve drunk exactly half of your solo cup when it happens.

Your eyes are dusting over the crowd uninterestedly until they catch on a familiar frame.

Suguru. He’s talking with a woman, a slender, tall figure that must be a model he knows somehow. His hand is on the wall beside her, leaning over her, a loose grin on her flawless face–and immediately an unbridled jealousy wells up inside of you without your permission.

As soon as the sharp negativity registers, Suguru chooses that exact moment to find your gaze with his own. The charming smile he had on his face fades, and you don’t know why, but you feel enraged.

It’s a muddy, red feeling, completely unfounded, shame tinging it dark. But it’s yours, and the longer you stare at him the heavier it feels.

Unable to look at him with another woman any longer, you turn on your heel and head straight for the only place you know you can be alone in this big house–the bathroom.

You’ve just pushed the door open to the empty room when you hear him call to you.

You whirl around, and that’s when he backs you in, shutting the door behind you. The only light in the small room is reflecting from the frosted window at the other end, streetlight outside and the Moon casting a dim glow.

“You’re upset,” Suguru says, hand on your cheek. You avert your eyes, pushing his hand off of you.

“You’re not mine, I have no right to be,” it comes out cold and uneven. “Go back, she’s probably wondering where you went.”

“Forget her, I don’t want her,” He forces your gaze back to him. “I want you.”

The dense air is ripe with stillness. You can’t even hear the loud music outside anymore. Your eyes are locked with Suguru’s, and you know you’re screwed.

He pulls you in and ducks down, beginning to leave feverish kisses over your neck.

“I want you so fucking much,” He breathes, heat fanning over your skin and making you shiver. He looks up at you and leans in real close, the tips of your noses touching. “It’s taking everything in my power not to kiss you right now.”

Involuntarily, your eyes flit down to his lips, and he exhales shakily, closing his eyes and brushing them faintly against yours. You turn your face away.

“We can’t.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat and tightens his hold on you, dragging his teeth over the skin just under your ear. 

“I know we said we wouldn’t,” He replies, “But I can’t do it, I can’t resist you knowing that I can have you like this…”

“I don’t want to hurt him. I love him.” Your resolve is wavering.

“I know,” Suguru murmurs, “He knows, too. Just let yourself have this. Let me do this.”

You swallow hard, a sigh leaving your lips as he trails wet kisses down to your collarbone. 

“Let me,” He says, “You want this. You want me.”

You lean back against the counter, hands on the edge as he keeps going further down, this time undeterred by your dress and its neckline.

His lips find the top of your breast, and he looks up at you.

“Tell me to stop.”

Those words can’t even begin to take form on your tongue.

This time, he repeats it in a whisper. “Tell me to stop.”

Fuck it. You can’t stand this anymore.

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

He pushes the top of your dress unimportantly out of the way, exposing the rest of the soft flesh of your chest. 

He eyes your breasts with desire before looking up at you, making sure you’re watching him before parting his lips and swiping his tongue out, letting the bead of his piercing catch on your stiff peak. 

You gasp, and his lips turn up at the corners. Then he does it again. His thumb rubs the one not getting worked by his mouth, and you watch as he flutters his tongue over the bud, closing his lips around it and sucking.

“Ah,” You moan, head falling back. “Suguru…”

“Yes,” He breathes, “I’ve waited so long to hear that, fuck, you are so beautiful.”

You bite your lip as he praises you, arching your back as he continues to devour you. It’s a sinful scene, something so hazy you feel like if you move a certain way you’ll wake from a dream. The little shocks of pleasure undulating down from your peaks start to build heat in your core, wetness pooling in the lace underneath the skirt of your dress.

The bumping of the music outside of the bathroom only adds to the heavy atmosphere, so loud it vibrates the counter behind you, and you have to actually take a moment to realize that Suguru’s lips have started traveling further down your body. Right over the fabric of your dress, he kisses a line as he gets to his knees, leveling himself with your thighs. He looks up at you with those pretty, golden eyes, a translucent midnight in the dim lighting of the moon, rimmed with eyeliner, and he presses a peck to your knee, palms caressing the skin at the hem of your dress.

You can only watch him do it, watch him start littering your skin with kisses, taking your left leg and hiking it over his shoulder to get further up your thighs.

Each brush of his metal-adorned lips has you moving closer to insanity. Little flowers of pleasure bloom every time he sucks a mark and pulls away, the skin tenderized and wet with saliva. The feeling of his hot mouth getting closer and closer to the spot that hungers the most for him intensifies, and soon enough, he pushes your dress up far enough to get it around your hips and out of his way. Panties on display, he locks eyes with you and rubs the skin of your inner thigh slowly, pressing his lips to the dip right beside your apex. You tense, and he grins, flicking his tongue out to run it over the skin there. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He murmurs, eyes flitting down, then up again. “Right here is where I want to be…”

You swear your heart may give out. You’ve fantasized so much about this moment, and now that it’s happening, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re sure any second you’re going to combust. 

“I wish you could see your face,” He grins, looking at you with an amused smile. “You want it bad…”

Taking a breath, you try to get a grip to respond. The best you can manage is, “I’m not the only one.”

He chuckles low in his throat, syrupy and rich, and then parts his lips to drag his tongue over the front of your panties.

“Ah!” You gasp, the unexpected movement catching you by surprise. All Suguru does is do it again, this time drawing circles into the fabric with the stud in his tongue, your clothed clit throbbing in delight.

He closes his lips around it, sucking before tilting his head down, rubbing the tip of his nose against the bud.

You shiver, a hand threading into his hair. “Suguru…”

“Keep making those noises for me,” He breathes, kissing the front of your panties a few times, then swirling his tongue around your clothed pearl again. The added friction of the fabric heightens your pleasure, and you feel it getting soaked, a combination of your arousal and his spit. The thought alone furthers your desire.

He adds more pressure on his next lick, and it has you twitching, a soft whimper leaving your lips. He repeats the movement over and over and over again until your breath is hitched and uneven, little moans tumbling freely from your voice.

“Suguru,” You finally warn, “I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum,” He replies, “Cum on my tongue, baby.”

“Ah!” You cry out, the pet name hitting your senses right in their vital points, orgasm sweeping through you like a vengeful spirit claiming its latest victim. He helps you ride it out, keeping his tongue on you until your body begins to relax.

“You’re gorgeous when you cum,” He compliments breathlessly, and you huff in embarrassment. 

“Am I really?”

“Yeah,” He nods, gazing at you with blown pupils. “I want to see it again.”

Faster than you can comprehend, he’s hooking your sopping panties out of the way, taking your bare cunt into his mouth.

The sensitivity overwhelms you and you gasp, biting your lip. “Suguru…I-I already came…”

“You can do it again,” He replies, flicking his tongue over the swollen bud at the top of your folds. “Come on, just focus on the feeling…”

It’s a dull yet sharp sort of pain, a kind you discover you like, and you moan as he relentlessly pursues your pleasure, squirming in the vice grip he has on your hips, no doubt destined to bruise. The thought of the shape of his hands branded into your skin tomorrow, ingrained in a phantom ache…it makes your core pulse with need.

He groans, dragging his right hand down your leg, the cool, hard sensation of his rings making you suck your lip between your teeth. 

Then, you feel two thick, rough fingers entering you, jewelry and all.

“Oh god,” it comes out desperate and sort of broken, because Suguru is fingering you now, using the beautiful hand he strokes his bass guitar with, and for fuck’s sake he really knows how to use them.

He’s folded the three fingers he’s not using to aim better with the two inside, curling them upwards to prod at the magic spot within you as he sucks hard on your clit.

Your head falls back and you suppress what would have been a pornstar-worthy cry, yet your effort is wasted when on the next thrust of his digits, the sound of your ecstasy is forced out of you as he wriggles his fingers slightly on your g-spot.

“Suguru!”

“Beautiful,” He breathes against your folds, eyes still trained on you as if he was a spectator beholding an art exhibit. 

When he says it, it clatters around inside of you like a china plate shattering on a kitchen floor. He must know what it does to you, because he dives right back in, eating you out like his life depends on it, complete with noises generated at the back of his throat like a starved man finally allowed food.

All too soon, as he’d predicted, your second orgasm approaches. It fades in like the start of your favorite Curse Manipulator song, building, building, building—

Something that has never happened before happens.

You feel this release of pressure, an overwhelming rush of heat, the sound of your own wanton scream sounding far away as you soak Suguru’s fingers and chin. He made you squirt. For the first time in your life.

You can barely remember where you are by the time he stands up, licking your juices off of his rings and wrapping his arm back around your waist to get close to you.

Like this, you feel the press of his hard cock straining against his jeans on your thigh and you shiver, meeting his eyes. 

“Did you like that?” He asks in a sort of whisper, and you nod mindlessly, leaning forward to kiss him.

Then you remember yourself and the rules, and pull away. He makes a disappointed noise and cups your face with his left hand.

“I wish you could taste yourself on my tongue,” He whispers, touching his nose to yours. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

Your eyes meet his, and though you just came twice, you still feel a raging fire inside of you for him. 

You don’t answer verbally; you just tilt your head to the side and lay a kiss on his cheek. He sighs, eyes fluttering shut, and you get more bold, kissing a line all the way down his neck. Your hands travel from his shoulders down his chest, over the taut fabric of his black tank top, ghosting over the piercings on each of his pecs on their way down.

You make it to the edge of his shirt and you suddenly become all-too-aware of the fact that you get to touch him. You get to do whatever the fuck you want to him, after all of these months of dreaming about it, he’s finally putty in your hands.

Like a kid in a candy store, your lips latch onto his neck as you push his shirt up, only pulling back to help him take it off and toss it unimportantly to the floor. Your eyes feast on his bare, muscular torso, pale skin seeming to glow in the lavender moonlight. The tattoos on his skin decorate him beautifully, and your vision catches on the twin silver barbels in each of his nipples, mouth salivating. It only worsens when you see the bulge in his black jeans, fiending for release. 

How is he this gorgeous?

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m not gonna obey the rules,” He warns softly, hands on your waist, and you meet his eyes, dangerously close to wanting to break them yourself. 

“You’re just…” You trail off, laying a hand on his chest and running it down slowly, watching his breath hitch. “God you’re just…”

He smiles slightly, amused, and you just shake your head and lean forward, mouth landing on his collarbone.

Your lips busy sucking marks into his chest, your hands need something new to touch, so you find the buckle of his belt, starting to tug on it.

You can feel the uptick in his heart rate because it’s beating right beneath your kiss, and the knowledge that you’re affecting him so much goes straight to your head.

His hands have moved up to your breasts, kneading them gently as you work his pants open, satisfaction filling you the second you feel the button release.

In search of what you yearn for, you drag the zipper down and dip your hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, at last coming into contact with the smooth, hard heat of his cock. He gasps, breath fluttering, and the moment you wrap your hand around it and pull it free from the confines of his clothing, he groans. It’s music to your ears.

The touches he’s been giving to you intensify as you begin to stroke him, his shaft thick and lengthy in your grasp. 

Except for the small amount of precum you spread down his length, there’s nothing to help the glide, but he remedies that by canting his hips forward and raising your knee, cock bumping against your soaked mound. You jolt, thinking he means to slip inside, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t have condoms,” He murmurs, “But you can still get me wet.”

A slight tinge of disappointment fills you—there won’t be that final push tonight, but you’re here and you’re so turned on you can’t think straight, so you do as he says and rub his tip against your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” He breathes out, head falling back. He inhales sharply, starting to rock his hips to rut against you. “Fuck, you feel so soft…”

Your composure utterly gives out beneath you and you fall forward, letting your forehead rest against his chest as he continues fucking against your clit. It’s over-sensitive and puffy, but god damn is it determined to keep up?

Unable to help yourself, you drag your teeth over one of his tattoos, and he grunts, hand winding behind your waist to pull you closer. Spurred on and suddenly level with his pec, you part your lips and allow your tongue to swipe over the pierced nipple beneath it, and he shudders.

“Fuck, baby.”

If he keeps calling you that, you’re going to need to be admitted. 

Of course, it only impassions you, and your strokes quicken, hand tightening every time you get to the tip and loosening on the way down. 

“Yes,” He sighs out, taking your face in his hand and guiding it up. He looks at you in the eyes for a second, then moves in, planting a kiss left of your mouth. Your eyes close, and he keeps going, giving you desperate pecks as he keeps fucking your hand, getting himself sloppy with your essence, precum mixing in with it. 

His mouth finds your ear and he bites at the shell, low groans sending vibrations down your spine. 

“I wanna fuck you,” He sounds winded in a way you’ve never heard before, strained, and it’s so fucking sexy. “I wanna be inside of you so badly…I wanna feel every detail.”

“Oh god,” You shudder, eyes squeezing shut, feeling lightheaded.

“If I could, I’d grab you and turn you around,” He tells you, “I’d make you take it all until you’re stuffed with my cum.”

Jesus Christ, that’s the dirtiest thing anyone has ever said to you. Your body trembles involuntarily, clenching on nothing, and you pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his hips. All you can do now is hold his cock down while he ruts against you, friction mutually beneficial, completely losing your mind. 

“Would you like that?” He asks, voice sultry like brown sugar, sweet and bad for you. 

Still, you nod, long gone, clutching onto him for dear life. “Yes…”

“Yes? Yes, who?” He asks, a dangerous little tinge in his voice, “Who is it that you want to get fucked by right now?”

Fuck, “You…”

His thrusts are turning erratic and you can feel him getting close, muscles tensing up, urgency increasing.

“What’s my name?” He asks you, a soft demand.

Oh god, “Suguru.”

“That’s right,” He murmurs, hissing as he teeters over the edge. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby…”

As if commanded by him, your body seizes up and your third orgasm of the night hits you, nails digging into his shoulder. That’s all it takes for him to follow—he seethes air through his teeth, voice catching in a guttural grunt, and you feel hot semen spilling onto the tender flesh of your mound, staining the fabric of your ruined panties. 

“God,” He breathes, trying to calm down, eyes unfocused. 

They land on your face, and all he does is look at you for a moment before leaning in, kissing your forehead. 

“I won’t see anyone else,” He murmurs to you, firm and breathless.

You shake your head automatically. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“I know.”

Such a violent tenderness erupts inside of you, endorphins and oxytocin swirling around like a hurricane, making a mess of your psyche. He really doesn’t want anyone but you, and that knowledge is sharp like a knife. Despite the danger of it, you don’t want to leave.

If Suguru’s desire for you is destined to swallow you whole, you are royally fucked.

__

a/n: the way my fingers flew writing this

Please don't copy or repost, but feel free to reblog and share!

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[sephirthoughts]

Vincent’s lingering obsession with Lucrecia is excellent drama, but their story is not a doomed romance.

This is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Lucrecia deserves nearly as much pity and excusing of her actions as she gets. This is not character-hate post, it's an analysis of a character I think gets short shrift as a Mother-Mary in a bell jar, and deserves better.

Lucrecia is morally grey. Charcoal grey. I love complex, morally grey characters, particularly when they're women, since usually women are relegated to roles that infantilize and objectify them, particularly in video games, which have historically been a very backward, androcentric medium. I strongly dislike brainless victims, subject to the whims of the male characters, without much agency, and Lucrecia was not such a character.

Lucrecia was an adult with agency and brains. She was a grown ass adult. She was a brilliant scientist. She made decisions with her eyes open, and even sacrificed her unborn child to her work. She is a very interesting character. The fact that she didn't idolize motherhood as the end-all of female existence, and that her obsession with her work was stronger than her desire to be a 'good mother' makes her far more interesting than otherwise. The fact that she regretted it later and wanted him back doesn’t magically make her a good person, or change the choices she made. It demonstrates guilt and remorse, which are part of character development. The bottom line is that she committed atrocities in the name of science, then felt guilty about it later, once she realized how devastating the consequences were to her personally. To say she didn’t know what she was doing or Hojo manipulated or controlled her is to infantilize and disrespect her character. She’s not some sacrificial angel who was a victim of circumstances; she was a willing participant in her own downfall.

Lucrecia is a tragic character, but she's not a romantic lead. Except in Vincent's head. After all was said and done, she had one of those too-late changes of heart that make tragedy so emotionally impactful. She had a human reaction to Vincent's death and felt terribly guilty for her role in all of it, as she should. That doesn't mean she loved him, it means she wasn't a monster. She lost her son, and gradually, Hojo's callous inhumanity and her inability to escape the net she wove with her own hands closed in on her. Did she deserve to never hold her baby son and never see him even once? No. But she caused it, with her own actions. That's tragedy. She was miserable, bereft, and riddled with guilt, so she made a last-ditch effort to make something right...by doing more insane science shit that turned Vincent into a monster. Seeing that she'd only made everything worse, she tried to kill herself, but was unable to, and thus ran off to become a crystal statue in a cave (this is a trope that I dislike, but that's the story, so that's what we've got).

Vincent is a bad judge of the circumstances. Vincent persists in seeing her as a lost love, and someone from whom he was unjustly separated by circumstances. The fact that he is so blinded by his feelings for her that he places her on this pedestal and can't blame her for what she did is excellent characterization, and I love it, but it's because he’s wrong. He loved her. She didn’t love him (I think she was in love with his father, but that's just icing on the tragedy cake, at this point). His lingering attachment, not to the real Lucrecia, but to the idealized version of her he has in his mind, is a very sad reality that adds so much delicious pain to his character. In the end, he is unable to blame her, because he loved his image of her (and Hojo is a way easier target for anger, because he's literally the worst), which speaks far more to his personal bias in the situation than to her actual role in it. She’s not moustache-twirlingly evil like Hojo but she’s not Vincent's star cross'd soul mate tragically torn away by cruel fate. Lucrecia was her own person.

In summation. Their story is not a doomed romance, it's a complicated, messy, ugly tangle of thorns, and one of the best written tragedies in a game that literally bleeds tragedy from every orifice. It's got one-sided love, obsession, mad science, betrayal, jealousy, fetal experimentation, murder, corpse reanimation, and a guy who can't die, and is left to deal with the consequences of everyone else's actions by himself forever. No one is innocent and no one comes out unscathed…strike that. Vincent is innocent and Hojo comes out unscathed. But still. Lucrecia is not a holy mother, she's not a brainless victim, and she's not Vincent's lost love. She's a person he loved, and who didn't reciprocate. Most importantly, she's a person. A whole-ass, complex, morally grey, fully developed person, who made terrible choices, then made even worse choices, and in the end, couldn't escape the fate she wove for herself.

And then wound up encased in crystal so she could be a pretty statue forever cause the game devs just couldn't help themselves I guess.

[finisnihil]

Some people need to learn the difference between like/disliking a character on a personal level v. a writing level. I dislike some characters on a personal level but I do love their writing and characterization on a meta level and any of my bullying of them is mostly for jokes. Meanwhile there's also characters who I adore on a personal level but abhor the writing of because it feels like their concepts or potential as a character were squandered.

I've said it before i'll say it again when you let your personal bias on a character infect your analysis of them you get mischaracterization. Part of media literacy is seperating authoral intention from reader response and thinking about if anything about the character or their interactions can cloud your judgement of them on a surface level.

For example, in the 2.1 quest of HSR I saw some Aventurine lovers absolutely jump on a hate train for Sunday because in their eyes, Sunday was villainous for his actions against Aventurine and deserved to be put down for it. But, when you stop bastardizing Sunday in an effort to validate and sanitize Aventurine's motives you see the two are actually equally complicit in hurting the other. Sunday did try to turn Ratio against Aventurine and he did cast the whole Truth or Die spell but when you actually critically analyze Sunday and his role in the interaction he is more sympathetic and he makes more sense.

Aventurine was going into the interaction, an interaction regarding the IPC's increasingly aggressive attempts to recolonize Penacony after losing it as a prison planet, bragging about using the horrific murder of Sunday's sister to exploit him. Aventurine has never once hid his intentions, he's sympathetic but that doesn't change the fact he's trying to rip Penacony's freedom away for the IPC. We've seen what the IPC does to planets, no matter how corrupt the Family is, the IPC will be worse without a doubt. Aventurine is a morally grey character, he took the gamble of lying under the spell and he understood the stakes when he did it. Trying to bastardize Sunday in order to try and act like Aventurine didn’t have the autonomy to fuck around and find out is really disingenuous to both characters.

As for Sunday, Sunday is incredibly sympathetic too. We know he’s under crushing pressure by everyone around him to hide things for the sake of public image and we know he’s sacrificed a ton for his sister. Sunday is reverential of Xipe but we see him being actively wary of the Family. He knows there’s a traitor, he knows the Family is rotting with ill intent, he knows Death is on the loose. Robin and him are doing their damndest to handle these problems within their circumstances and we’ve seen their notes! They aren’t ignoring the problem, they’re even trying to get outside help from both the Astral Express and Aventurine. We see the Lightcone of their childhood in an otherwise clinical and impersonal office, one where he built her a toy stage and became her first audience. He cares about Robin more than anything and you see his rage and grief being suppressed yet slipping here and there and causing him to make sloppy mistakes, such as using the Truth or Die spell to lash out at Aventurine when he feels cornered with no control over the situation. When he confronts Gallagher he finally cracks and just… breaks. You see him lose it to the point he doesn’t even notice Death behind him until it’s too late. Despite being likened to songbirds, Robin and Sunday both died quietly in their gilded cages. They are the canaries in the coal mine.

Sunday and Aventurine are meant to parallel each other, they both lost their sister in a gruesome event outside of their control because they couldn’t protect her. Sunday couldn’t protect her from the cage he let himself be trapped in so she could fly free and Aventurine couldn’t protect her because he was too small and too young and too lucky. One is a younger brother and one is an elder brother.

The only major difference between them is who we experience the story through. Aventurine is our eyes for most of 2.1 so therefore Sunday is the one put in the antagonistic role. Antagonists are characters who’s motives and goals oppose the protagonists. Because of this, we have to flesh out Sunday’s character via subtext because we don’t have the luxury of his POV to be blatant like with Aventurine. If the roles reversed, if Sunday was our eyes, I bet Aventurine would be the one getting the flack instead.

[spacerockfloater]

You know what?

I get it, ok? I understand the concept of Rhysand being a morally grey character. I understand that SJM wanted him to be an anti-hero of sorts. I would be totally okay with him doing everything that he did and standing by his actions if he simply said “The only thing that concerns me is myself, my circle and my people. I’m here to protect my interests first and everything else second. I am no hero, I am just someone who puts himself and his sphere first. I am a selfish person and I’m totally okay with that. I do not need anyone’s approval.” I still wouldn’t be his biggest fan, because I do not tend to admire self serving people, but I would totally understand him. In fact, I might have done the same thing. I guess you can never know for sure what your reaction to something would be unless you actually end up in that situation. I get that the average person would protect themselves (themselves = them and their loved ones) but I do believe that admiration should be saved for people who go against the norm. People who actually put their foot down, say no, protest, fight back, risk their lives, experience loss for a greater good. That’s why I admire Khalias, Tarquin, Helion, Tamlin etc. Because they stood up to Amarantha while knowing the consequences of their actions. I wouldn’t admire Rhysand, but I’d support him if he just owned up to his shit and said “Yup, I’m your average person, I don’t care if I come off as the bad guy!”.

But he does not! He wants everyone to applaud him and thank him and feel like they owe him and appreciate him and and and and… Jesus Christ man, you did the bare minimum and you did it all when you had nothing to lose! Thank you so much that you convinced that frigid bitch to murder two dozens of children instead of me and my family, of course I am now forever in your debt! Relax. You were able to talk Amarantha out of directly harming the other High Lords only after you harmed others to gain her favour and you saved the High Lords only because it served you better to keep them alive instead of some irrelevant children fae. I’m sure that your people should be thanking you because you did it all for them after all, but count me the fuck out of it.

Last but not least: ACOTAR Feyre was, obviously, a hero. She was a morally good character. She sacrificed herself for people she didn’t even know. I’m not gonna debate that. I actually loved her in the first book. However, I think she went through a drastic change after her metamorphosis. Her “human heart” is actually no longer human to say the least. I’m not even gonna elaborate on how she became this cruel, unforgiving person that only cared about how people treated her, or how disrespectful she is towards other people like Tarquin because Rhysand made her feel entitled to do so, or how she is responsible for the destruction of two courts that simply seemed like collateral damage if it meant that she would get her revenge on Tamlin. I’m simply going to say that logically speaking, since Feyre stands 100% besides Rhys and everything he did and supports him, she’s also a morally grey person AT BEST, though I do tend to think of both of them as villains because after all, the very definition of a villain is “someone defined by their acts of selfishness, evilness, arrogance, cruelty, and cunning” and like, come on, this screams Feysand.

The term morally grey is so overused. Someone who’s selfish and cunning and cares mostly about themselves is, at least partially, a bad person. A morally grey character is at least half a villain. When did we actually start to equate anti heros with heros?

[hxxsxxng]

JAY 박종성 - CRIMSON HONEY : II

Word Count : 1.5k

Genre : Fluff, Angst, AU

Content : mentions of blood, mention of bruises, the morning after, literally one implication of sex, stalking, teasing, missing person

Synopsis : what happens once she wakes up in her kidnappers house?

Authors Note : this is a filler chapter to give some insight of the characters morals and personalities, and because i don’t want to put smut in a somewhat innocent chapter. <3

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

She is awoken by rays of sunlight peeking through the blinds. She is in the bed.. alone… where is Jay? Her eyes open blearily and she tries to focus them. Where the hell did she end up last night? There’s a dull ache in her lower back which she assumes is the source of the pain. She stretches her limbs, wondering how she got there, then remembers that Jay brought her home. After he had fucked her to unconsciousness, he carried her off the bed, placed her on the sofa, and told her that he would wait for her upstairs. That was the last thing she remembered before falling asleep.

Slowly, she gets out of the bed and walks over to the window, gazing down into the gardens below. It was quiet. There were no cars driving past, or birds singing in the morning. It looked like an abandoned area of the estate. The sky above her was perfectly clear of clouds and the sun glistened brightly on the surface of the lake, shining in bright streaks across the water, giving it an ethereal quality. She turns around as Jay emerges from the bathroom

He was dressed only in a grey T shirt and shorts. She looks him up and down appreciatively. He blushes slightly, walking towards her. “You’re awake…” He smiles. “Did you sleep well? ”She nods sheepishly, running a hand through her tangled, sweaty locks. “No… I am so sore.”. “Well, I’m sure your body isn’t used to the length of time I took taking care of you”. “What did you mean by that?”. “By taking care of you?”. “Yes, what did you mean by that?” She questions once again. “Well…” he begins hesitantly. He looks away from her, scratching his head awkwardly.

Suddenly, an idea strikes her. An idea that she desperately wants to follow through with.

She stares at him curiously, watching as he continues to scratch the back of his head, avoiding eye contact with her. “Well…? ” She repeats, raising her brows. He glances back at her, meeting her gaze and sighing in defeat. “I meant…” He pauses. “I meant taking care of you in the way that you liked. I took care of you like a woman should be taken care of”. She bites her bottom lip, feeling her cheeks grow warm. “Oh” she breathes. She doesn’t know whether she should be flattered or embarrassed.

“I don’t think you realize that this was just a random impulse decision. I didn’t choose you randomly in that alley. I planned it. I’ve been following you around for months, peeking into your window, listening to your phone calls with you boyfriend…just to know who you are and what you like.” he explained.

“He isn’t my boyfriend anymore..” she said with an uncomfortable look on her face and an awkward silence following.

“So…you stalked me?” she says, feeling somewhat embarrassed. He grins. “Maybe”. “And you chose me because…?” she inquires.

“Because you seemed like such an easy target. Like anyone could pick you out of a crowd and take advantage of you. Not that anyone would try to…I mean…well…” He clears his throat nervously. “Like you saw before, I’m an evil bastard. And you seem to be exactly my type.”.

She smirks and laughs at him. “Evil, huh?” She mutters.

She hear her phone buzzing vigorously against the mattress, taking her attention off of Jay. 34 missed calls from Mom and 7 texts from Dad. Ugh.. and 12 texts from her ex Jake. She swipes the screen and sees all of the notification messages. Her stomach sinks. She can feel the panic rising up in her. How the hell does she explain any of this to them? “I’m sorry, Jay…my parents…” She starts to say. She watches as Jay’s expression drops. “Ah, yeah. Your parents. Yeah I get it...we can talk about that later.” He turns around and heads towards the door. He stops briefly and looks back at her. “Go shower. I can make you some breakfast and hopefully you can start feeling better.” he says before exiting the room.

She sits up on the edge of the bed, clutching onto the pillow next to her. Fuck. She needs to tell someone, call her father. Or tell her mom. Someone…who will listen to her, not judge her. She quickly jumps up, and quickly walks to the bathroom.

Upon entering the bathroom, she inspects her damaged body. Bite marks, bruises on her neck, and dried blood on her chest. “What did he do to me?” she questioned. She touches the skin around her neck gently, wincing slightly as her fingers came into contact with the raw skin. She examines her body for anything else but there were none. She grabs a wet wash cloths and dabs it on her. She frowns slightly as the water runs cold against the cuts and wounds. They sting, but she knows that they won’t heal as soon as she gets them properly cleaned up.

As she towels herself dry, she glances over her shoulder at herself in the mirror and finds Jay’s reflection looking back at her.

“Jesus how did you get in here so quietly” she said startled. “I thought you were making food”

“I was” He said as he steps inside the bathroom behind her and stands directly behind her. His arms wrap tightly around her waist as he bends forward and rests his chin on her shoulder.

She gulps. “But…how?”. “I’m pretty stealthy for someone who has been alive all these years” he says trailing kisses down the bruises on her neck.

He reaches her collarbone slowly and gently sucks at the skin around her neck until it reddens and she feels hot, flustered breath brush against her neck and lips against the skin. She bites her lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape from her mouth. “Jay” she whispers breathlessly. “Hmm?” He replies, his words muffled slightly from his lips pressing down onto the sensitive area on her neck.

She swallows. “Your hair smells good” she blurts out. He smirks against her neck. “Does it?” he asks teasingly.

“Yeah, I’ve never smelled something like yours before”. She feels his nose touch her neck. She closes her eyes, relishing in the sensation. “Really? What’s my scent?”. “It’s…sweet. Like honey” she answers truthfully. But really, she couldn’t get enough of Jay’s scent and his arms around her. His presence seems to fill every empty space in her heart, leaving little to no room for anything else. She can sense that Jay senses her change in demeanor and he pulls away from her to look at her face. He raises one eyebrow and grins, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Sweet? Really?”. She smiles shyly. “Yeah…”. He chuckles lightly. “That makes two of us” he admits. She tilts her head and smiles at him. “I love the smell of your hair, by the way. You always smell nice.”he says, nuzzling his nose against her forehead and inhaling deeply. “Your scent make me crave your blood even more. It is hard to fight back the urge to bite into you right now” he admits.

“What is stopping you?” she teases.

[viridianevergarden]

Reading comprehension and critical thinking has really gone out the window hasn’t it? At least in a portion of the fandom.

People are forever stuck under the presumption that Az feels pure lust for Elain and nothing more. That lust suddenly doesn’t go hand in hand with love? That Az is mentally fucked up and should get therapy yet no one else in the IC should? That Az is wrong for naturally shifting his feelings of love from one person to another? That he’s wrong because he didn’t “take a break”? That because of these, Az doesn’t deserve to have love and to love in general?

People are also forever stuck under the presumption that these characters are oh so evil and shouldn’t deserve love at the same time? Take Rhys for a popular example. (When it’s a book series about the ‘villain’ getting the girl. The math isn’t mathing. He’s not even a real, true villain).

No character in ACOTAR is meant to be a saint, I thought everyone knew that. (Oh my god! Morally grey characters when they do morally grey things, shocking😧)

I find most Azriel antis are literally just people who can’t put two and two together. Or just don’t like him for whatever reason they may have. (Everyone has their opinions, yes). But my god, the shallow interpretation and failure to understand his character annoys me ngl. He’s a complex character but he’s not a damn mathematical equation. (He is complex yet linear.)

“He only thought about sex in the bonus chapter.”

As if Elain also wasn’t aroused too? And gave him permission? (Omg, mutual consent! Blasphemy!)

But also the fact that they disregard Az’s noticeable and careful attention to Elain that he has shown throughout the entire series? They disregard purposefully romanticized moments?

“What happened with Elain?”

“What about Elain?”

“I’m getting her back.”

“I can imagine.”

“Would you like me to show you the garden?”

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“This is Truth-teller.”

Shadows gathered around the room like snakes preparing to strike.

“Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“We need to get these chains off her.”

Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring [Elain]…

“She doesn’t need anything.”

“The Cauldron made you a Seer.”

“Happy Solstice.”

Staying up with her til 3 am, talking about her gardening plans.

The kiss on the cheek.

“Beautiful.”

Countless times of him gently carrying her around.

Him constantly looking out at her garden.

Him spending actual effort to get her a thoughtful gift for solstice.

Facing death itself to get her back immediately by himself.

A laugh so deep and joyous.

Looking at that headache powder every night for over a year without ever using it.

The absence of his shadows in her presence.

“His secret to tell, never hers.”

Need I go on? Azriel is always hyper focused on Elain. Always. If it weren’t for him, Elain would probably be dead or in more trouble than she ever would have been before.

If all Azriel cared about was slipping under Elain’s dress, why did he attend to her so? Why is he hyper aware of her? Why is he so assertive with her needs over anyone else? Even over Nesta? Why would he feel the need to defend her against Nesta, her own sister, if it called for it? Why does he respect her and Lucien’s boundary by refusing to have eyes on Lucien for the sake of their privacy? Why was he the only one to show initiative over anyone else to get Elain back to safety now rather than later, by himself, even if it meant certain death?

But yeah, all he wants is her body. Right? Yeah, that makes sense…

I’m just saying. No main SJM character would ever go through so much effort just to bed another character. Thats not SJM’s style nor is it logical in the slightest.

But oh yes, he feels entitled to her and her body…

…Entitled?

Wrong E word.

Envy ≠ Entitlement.

Feeling Envious of the love that his brothers have? Of the bonds they have with the other sisters? Yet he’s the only one left all by his lonesome? He feels left out. Third wheeled. And rationally so. He’s happy for his brothers but envious all the same. (As if Cassian didn’t feel the same but no one said shit about him did they?)

I’ve said this in another post too but he is NOT looking at Elain and going “she should be mine.”

He doesn’t even think he deserves her for freaks sake.

Rhys doesn’t really know Azriel. Cassian doesn’t really know Azriel. No one truly knows Azriel. The only one who has truly understood some semblance of Azriel is Elain. Even when his heart and feelings are so incredibly gated off from everyone.

So that word —entitlement— that people keep throwing around from Rhys’ lips is completely misguided.

The sheer mischaracterization makes me see red 💀

But back to the point, with obvious and mutual romantic feelings, being horny is normal. (This is also an adult romantasy series, shocking that there’s sexual content).

I’ll die on that hill for Az and Elain.

I don’t get how it can be this hard, but maybe it’s just me.

[daughter-of-prospero]

Jonah Rant

Someone on Youtube reminded me that I rage-typed an essay-length tirade about Jonah Magnus and his status as a certified Bastard Man right after the finale. They asked if there was a chance they could see it, which was a good question because did I even still have it? Turns out: Yes! It’s evidently been chilling in Onedrive for ~2 years. So for those who wish, my thoughts regarding that awful little man are below.

Spoilers for The Magnus Archives.

I went into the finale fully ready to not hear from Jonah again. I thought ‘oh, cosmic horror, as important as he thinks he is, he’s inconsequential and John just zaps him with eye lasers or something’. I didn’t want it per se, but I thought it was plausible.

But no. Oh no. Jonah Magnus speaks again, and he hasn’t been around for all of season 5. We heard him on a recording and we heard him chanting in the background and also all distorted in a job interview flashback, but there has been no actual uncompelled words being spoken by Jonah Magnus in real time since 159.

Yes he wrote the incantation but, rather crucially, he did not read it.

I binged TMA right as it got up to the season 4 finale. I got through season 1 in one day, and season 2 the next, and then got through three and four in the days after that. I caught up just in time for 160 to drop.

So I, foolish, naïve baby that I was, had over a year to forget what this character actually sounded like, and just how much of a slimy, insufferable fucker Jonah Magnus is. Was. Bitch.

I’ve gone into this elsewhere so I won’t belabor it but one of the reasons I’m so viscerally miffed by him is because of every human character in this podcast, he is the only one that is never shown sympathetically. I’m not counting Nikola Orsinov, or NotThems, or other manifestations of the Entities. I mean of the human, or avatar-human characters he is the least grey. Morality in this show is complex and tough to think about in my brain and one of the great ways it does this is through having really layered characters with motivations that are, at least a little, understandable. Jude Perry was a violent, sadistic lady...she was also devoted to Agnes and in some ways I think you could argue they were each other’s only links to humanity until what’s-his-name came along. Coffee shop Himbo guy. Peter Lukas is a misanthrope to the max who will send people into a nether realm if they so much as look at him wrong – which is to say, look at him at all. He was also raised to know nothing but loneliness, and pursuing it was kind of the only way he ever got some sort of approval. Which also manifested as more distance.

We get these little nuggets of what brought a villain where they are now, and we certainly don’t have to excuse them, but we have some context. We have some understanding that there is humanity in there, and that understanding makes them all the more unsettling.

Not fuckin’ Jonah.

What do we know about him? He’s a couple centuries old. Great. He found out about the powers, was drawn to the eye, and decided to start body-hopping to cheat death. He’s been doing this for ages. He tried a ritual and it failed. He took his time then, plotting and planning, and being smug, and finally arriving at a hypothesis that had a lot of credence to it. Everything fell into place, he was right, its all or nothing with the entities but the Eye rules because it opened the door (or WHATEVER).

So his big motivator is he doesn’t want to die.

And you know what, this is super understandable. We don’t know what his childhood was like (Jesus, can you imagine him in a little powder wig, climbing a tree to get a high vantage point to spy on people and get blackmail on them?), but fear of death is almost universal.

And of all the billions of people on this planet, I cannot help but notice that we are not thwarting narcissistic necromancers every fifteen minutes. Because the world would have fucking exploded a long, long time ago if we had more Jonahs in it. i.e. the people who would make aggressive selfishness a full-time occupation.

There’s a sort of cocktail of shit that makes him a memorable baddie not the least of which is that he never even attempts to justify his abhorrent actions. He’s not lying to himself, or anyone else, he’s not serving a cult, or a bunch of worms. He’s in it for himself, and if he has to stack the corpses of every living thing on the planet to reach immortality he’ll fucking do it without hesitation. Couple that with his manipulations, his merciless psychological torture, and a low, smooth voice that is always so infuriatingly composed and you have a Hell of a villain.

(I maintain that one of the reasons he’s so effective is that he enunciates so carefully. He doesn’t run words together, or mumble, he never really raises his voice, he is always in control, and everything is a flex right down to the articulation. I feel like we associate crisp, clear speech with formality, presidential addresses, or theater, things like that. Where you know what you are going to say and so the recitation is more confident. We hear this happen in statements, to a certain extent, but there’s still a lot of emotional range. For 199 episodes we never heard Jonah lose this pointed, smarmy tone. People don’t talk so formally in life, or when they’re talking on the podcast. There is something unsettling and intimidating about hearing such clear and confident speech all the time. It sounds like he knows exactly what to say in any situation. It sounds like he is utterly confident in every word that leaves his mouth. It sounds like he’s in a scene and no one else got the script but him. Because that is kinda what’s going on. At the very least, he thinks that’s what’s going on)

When he drops from wherever he’s suspended in the panopticon, he, you know, sort of makes a noise because that’s gotta be jarring. And we for once, for once, for fucking ONCE hear him even vaguely uncertain. And stupido io, I thought he was finally brought low and we might get a tantrum or something.

But no. Jonah Magnus has a lot of lost time to make up for, it’s been 20 eps since he’s been able to serenade everyone with his unique brand of horny arrogance. This motherfucker has exactly a millisecond of confusion and grogginess before “I was having the most...wonderful dream”. You can hear him edging.

And he’s kiiiiind of surprised to see John by himself with a knife, but still, so blasé, so, ‘oh, is that all?’ He’s a liiiiitle regretful to hear it’s over, but immediately heads into waxing rhapsodic about seeing a thousand lifetimes and the rapture of infinite sight and suffering and other Hellraiser shit when John speaks for all of us and tells him to shut up. Yet another reason to respect him.

And John has a lovely little catharsis where he gets to tell this orchestrator of his despair that Jonah has failed because the Things that Jonah is so devoted to will die a slow death. How long has he been waiting to say that, do you think? I mean at this point there’s nothing that could do what he’s probably feeling justice but he says it himself he gets some satisfaction from “knowing that I’ll be leaving these things that you serve trapped and starving in their own private hell.”

And all Jonah has to say is: “That we serve.” To the bitter, bitter end he is determined to just...okay I was gonna say twist the knife but that seems a bit tasteless now...determined to cause even more hurt. He cannot resist, it’s kind of all he knows. He is at the edge of a cliff and taunting the person that’s about to push him off of it.

And if you ever need a posterchild for ‘hubris’ just pull up a sound clip of Jonah Magnus. He tries to play the old ‘alright, playtime’s over,’ card, brushing the dust and what-the-fuck-ever else off his suit and manipulate John again. He has the...not even audacity, he’s looped back around from being semi-omniscient, to being so confident in that omniscience he thinks he knows everything and therefore acts way more stupidly than someone without that surety. He is enough of a dipshit to try and say to John “we both know you don’t have it in you”.

Motherfucker, what have you been doing for this entire season? What have you been doing this entire show? You have purposefully created someone who has withstood the brunt of every entity and come out more or less intact. You purposefully guided him into honing his powers, and put him in a position where he has nothing to lose. Well, Martin, but Jonah can’t do anything about that. Not anymore. Because the one person who can protect Martin is coincidentally the same person who can, will, and reeeeeally wants to Kill Jonah.

“King of a ruined world and I shall never die” my ass. King? Really? You were a placeholder, my dude. The Eye didn’t give a fuck that you were at the top of the panopticon and it didn’t give a fuck when John pulled you out of it. You said it yourself, dipshit. You might have started the archives, but John IS the archives. He is the only person more powerful than Jonah and Jonah, of all people, should know this. Especially considering you could presumably see John cutting through the domains, dishing out biblical vengeance, on a warpath for your tower.

So of course, he decides to antagonize John even more if that is even possible by telling him they both know he can’t do it.

And John fucking punches him and it’s great. Extended sounds of brutal ass whooping, please and thank you.

And then we get one of two lines that sums up Jonah Magnus for me.

“P-please John, I don’t want to die”.

This guy. Who dedicated his several lives to ruling the world and feeding on everyone else’s pain. Who has committed atrocities that numerous to count and too horrible to name. Who is being confronted by the direct target of his machinations and who, I think it’s safe to say, hates him more than anyone or anything else in existence. Has the absolute fucking nerve to go “but I’m scared :(”

When he went ‘I don’t want to die’ I actually said to literally no one because I was alone in my room “HA, Fuck you.”

John puts it a bit more eloquently. “Neither did they”. Beautiful. And then he’s gutted like the repulsive little fish he is.

The second line that sums up this insufferable megalomaniac is a little earlier. It’s casual, neither of them makes a point of it. Maybe because it’s a little redundant. “Empathy only holds you back in the end”.

I don’t want to die, and Empathy only holds you back in the end.

I mean, that’s the thesis statement of the shit-eating essay that is Jonah Magnus.

He’s so far beyond regret, or anything that isn’t 100% self-motivated he cannot perceive that perhaps John will have maybe, I don’t know, changed a bit. Gotten used to horror. Killed. He cannot fathom anything outside the tower as more than a food source. He is so used to seeing people as pawns he dies not actually understanding why John killed him. “Good luck” are his last lines.

First of all, the direction is ‘wetly’ and on the one hand I know what that means, but on the other, I cannot think of a more fitting adjective to end on with this guy.

Second of all, the ambiguity of how sincere he is or isn’t being is enraging, and so classic and I hate him, which is to say fucking excellent job of writing and acting both.

He goes to his grave thinking John’s making a power grab. He cannot conceive of any other reason for John doing what he’s doing. They’re opposite ends of the spectrum. One who can think of no one but himself, and one who will sacrifice himself because he’s thinking of everyone else. You know how matter can’t be created or destroyed? I think guilt might be the same way. And Jonah found a handy receptacle for all the guilt he doesn’t have time for and that receptacle is named Jonathan Sims head Archivist of The Magnus Institute.

What a good villain. What an infuriatingly mellifluous bitch. The thinks he’s King of the World, he thinks he’s going to get such special treatment, he thinks consequences apply to everyone but him, he thinks this is a game he can win when he doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s playing.

As much as he looked at John and went “perfect, an insecure idiot”, the Web looked at him and went “perfect, a pompous ass”. He wanted to live forever, but now he’s dead. And he doesn’t even get to live on in memory. No one knew he was up there. No one remembered Elias, let alone Jonah. You think Georgie, Melanie, Rosie, and Basira are going to tell the world about him? What would be the point?

Congratulations, Jonah. You tried to ensure your immortality and ended up ensuring that you died both literally and figuratively. Before it got yeeted into another dimension The End must have had a fucking Field Day the second his heart stopped beating.

What a bastard. What an unfathomable bastard. Like he really thought this would all work out for him, that he was the most Important Thing in the world when, at best, at best he was a glorified fucking contact lens.

Ass.

[luveternals]

paring: 1. john 'soap' mactavish x top male reader, implied soap x ghost (spoiler: if you ship them, sorry) rating: mature, MDNI cw: death, blood, depiction of killing, mention of war, major character death(i guess), morally grey reader, obsession, non explicit sexual content. tell me if I missed anything else. disclaimer: all mistakes are my own. I never played cod. I don't know bananas about the military. and i'm not doing research bc I literally don't have the time to fall into another rabbit hole... ⁓ ⁓ ⁓

Just watch from afar. You tell yourself. You will not get anything other than that. Because you know if you dare to get too close, there’s a chance it won’t end well.

You lean against the railing, sweat dump hair sticking to your forehead. He is on the other side of the training grounds, muscles working as he tackles his opponent to the ground.

The grin spreading across his plush lips. The look of surprise that replaces it when the other flips their position. The loud, beaming laugh that bubbles from deep inside his chest when they clap hands, and he gets pulled back onto his feet.

Gorgeous.

Someone calls your name, and when you snap out of whatever trance you’ve fallen, you find you’ve moved closer to the scene at some point.

You shake your head and redirect your body to the person demanding your attention. Your new captain waves his hand at you.

It hasn't been more that a few days since you've been reassigned, landed away like an object, and already they are sending you out with a squad you know nothing of aside from the little written info given to you before you moved to this new base.

You figure they don’t care for tests when the results are destined to be useless in the face of real life.

You only have time to glance over your shoulder, and he’s already leaving, walking further and further away from you. And you suppose there's never been any chance for him to ever notice you to begin with.

-

The building as eerily quiet, nothing like the deafening chaos that had broken the moment your squad had revealed itself to the enemy.

There is a body laying at your feet, eyes staring emptily at the ceiling while the hole between them drips gore into the dusty floor. The gun in your hand is cold despite the echoing ‘bang’ still ringing in your ears.

“All clear,” a voice whispers into your earpiece. “Meet you at exfil, everyone,” another adds.

The face of your victim is smooth, years away from any wrinkles. You pause for a second, taking in every detail.

The gun burns in your trembling grip despite the gloves, blood pooling at your feet. He hadn’t been wearing a helmet, terror now frozen in his empty gaze. His inexperience showed in his lack of scares and wrinkles, expression made macabre with the fresh hole shot between his eyes.

“Was that your first?” someone had asked when you made it to exfil and found your seat in your team’s assigned vehicle. You didn’t bother answering, they had their own regardless.

Your first kill. You tucked your gun away and ignored it for the rest of the ride.

You step out of the building, clothes sticky with wet filth and feet leaving dark stains into the ground. But the gun is steady in your hands, the next bullet ready to be fired. The mess left behind is nothing but an unfortunate aftermath.

“What a face,” someone from your team says the moment you find yourself at exfil, “seen the devil?”

“The last kid I killed,” you say with a hum, “iIt reminded me of the first time I shot someone.”

“Your first kill was just a kid?”

You don’t bother to give an answer.

-

It’s three years later that you meet him officially.

You’ve never dared to get anywhere close to him, and simply learned about him instead.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish.

Nothing about him changed. To say he seems to have walked out of your memories it’s an understatement.

What’s different now though is the people that are part of his team.

The TF141. Who hasn’t heard of them?

Respected for their efficiency, infamous for the stories that circulate about them.

You stand to attention when you notice them making their way towards you.

The captain is the first to shake your hand, but Soap is, of course, the one that has your attention zero on him.

“I’ve heard of yah,” he says, and you have to fight the urge to beam. Has he? “Efficient, strong-willed, with nerves of steel. Say, he’s gonna be the perfect babysitter, ay Lt?”

Soap turns to beam at the looming figure that steps to stand behind him and fire burns into your vein, angry and ugly.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. The person Soap seems to be the closest to.

“You’re gonna scare him off, Johnny,” Riley only gives him an unimpressed look before shifting his attention to stare at you. Friend of foe?

It's ridiculous how the two of them standing so close sends the urge to clench your hands into fist through your body.

They’ve been a team for years now, it’s only natural for them to grow close.

Logically, that would be it. But you find yourself hating the mere idea.

“It’ll be a pleasure to work with you,” you say, gentle smile grazing your lips. It doesn’t reach your eyes and whether Soap sees it or not, you know Ghost does.

You let it spread wider until it turns into a dangerous smirk.

-

Being pinned to the floor with a gun to the temple takes you by surprise, but it’s a natural reaction before your logic replaces it. You should have seen it coming, you’ve grown overconfident in your skills during the years, too cocky even.

The odds had never been in your favor. They knew somehow of your plan and now the 141 has been sent to scatter.

You’ve lost sight of the others, your comms stolen by the enemy.

There are bodies littering the floor, abandoned weapons taking up the little remaining space.

“I’m gonna love this,” the bastard pressing you into the floor hisses into your ear.

Bang.

When it comes to a fight, skill is not the only factor that comes into play.

you jerk to the side and pain blossom through the side of your head, still you throw your weight back and the man falls off you with a surprised shout.

You jump him, elbow falling against his throat, and steal the gun from his slacked grin.

The echoing bang sends stars into your vision and splatters his brain into the floor.

You stumble onto your feet, hand flying up to press against the side of your head. The ringing against your ear makes you squint and when you feel a new presence enter the room you spin around on instinct and fire your weapon, body slamming against the wall as someone throws their weight against you.

Click.

The magazine is empty.

“I suppose I should count ourselves lucky, you and I, hmm?”

Riley is holding your knife against your throat, your gun aiming at his chin.

He slips your knife back into its holster and steps away to look around the room. “You could have stabbed the shite out of him before he’d even had the chance to shoot you. Afraid of knives or someth'?” he asks, and you know he’s making fun of you despite his mask hiding his expressions.

You pull your hand away from your head and stare at it. Blood stains the glove and drips down your face, but the bullet had only grazes at the skin of your head. “Not the kind weapon I care for.”

-

“They are made to be used,” Captain Price says through the comms. “You don’t carry them just because,” he says, and despite the disinterest Riley is currently exerting, you know he purposely had a hand in this.

“When we get back we will brush over your combat skills.”

You feel like a child, adults staring you down after they found out you haven’t done your homework. Not a soldier making his way back thorugh an abandoned building to meet with the rest of his team.

“There is no need for that, sir,” you say with a sigh.

“Then why haven’t you used it?”

No one is immune to trauma. And in some degree we all know we’re suffering from it in some way or another. We either don’t want to acknowledge it or are simply too broken by it to realize we’re under it’s influence.

You fall silent. It’s not that you don’t know how to answer. Nor is it that you’re too broken by the sweet, soulless voice that whispers into your ear like a devil on your shoulder without its angel.

It’s the fact that they would not understand. Perhaps, their gazes would soften with sympathy, perhaps they would harden with disgust.

Still, they wouldn’t understand. To do so they would have to experience it for themselves. And you know there only little chance for it to end as it did you.

And so you let them find their own answers; they have them of their own, anyway. Assumptions are good enough for it.

Like always.

-

Perhaps, you’ve lost your touch. Perhaps, it’s the alcohol easing your guard to relax, attention stolen away by the pleasurable warmth spreading through your limbs.

He can sense your eyes on him tonight. And each time he turns to meet your gaze with a confident, amused smirk.

Right now, he leans against the bar, perfect body stretching against the counter as he moves to press his lips against your ear, “is staring all you gon’do?” he purrs, hot breath sending chills down your back and straight between your legs.

You’re frozen in delighted surprise. Your voice cracks when you find it again. “It depends.”

“Hmm,” he chuckles, finger tickling up your throat to press against you Adam's apple, “on what, pray tell?”

Initial shock gone, it’s your time to smirk. You take his hand in yours and press a kiss against his palm, then run your tongue between two of his fingers. “Am I your first choice tonight?”

He falters, body going rigid at the words. His attention flicks to the side, gaze staring somewhere just past your shoulder.

You can feel the intensity of his first choice burning a hole on the back of your head.

You shove the bitterness aside and pull you man closer by the hips.

“It's okay, darling. I’ll show you how you got nothing but to gain from this.”

The way out of the pub and into your room is a blur of heat and hunger. He lets out a loud groan, gripping your shoulders as you press him against the door, lips sucking possessive marks down his throat and chest.

He flips your position and slams you against the wall, hands pulling at your clothes and lips biting against your own.

You smile and push him away. “Impatient.” with a second push he falls onto the bed, legs spread open and chest heaving with anticipation, “is this what him breaking your heart makes you feel?”

He tenses for the second time this night, hesitation washing over the lust hazing his gaze. But you're already climbing onto the bed, pulling him closer by the knees and wrapping his legs around your waist.

“Don’t worry, darling. Once I’m done with you, you won't have any energy to do anything but think of me.”

-

The air is knocked out of your opponent, back hitting the mat below your feet with a dull thump.

Soap groans and huffs out a laugh as he claps his hand into yours, and you pull him to his feet.

“Cap, I think he doesn’t need the knife after all,” he says and slips his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, so he can grin at you. His gaze is heavier than it has ever been, touch lingering longer and longer the more he finds reasons to touch you.

“I know how to use it, It’s just not my preferred weapon,” you say, “I find using it a little too… personal.”

-

Other knives are different from the real thing. They might be duller, sharper, newer, older. But they are not the same thing.

You hold it under the moonnight, letting it shine as it reflects under it. The handle has long lost its colors, the design dulled and smoothed over by time and use.

You circle your hand around it and for some reason it feels out of place now that it fits the shape properly, making the grip more comfortable, firmer, steadier. Your fingers feel like they don’t belong there, like they are too large now, too callous, too stained.

You let it spin around your fingers, and it moves with too much grace and elegance, too much confidence, you much will to kill.

Not like the first time you’ve welded it. When the moon shone through the window like a witness. When your fingers trembled as wet warmth spread over them. Your breath came out quicker, harsher, punching through your lungs with panic.

You were clueless back then, armed only with knowledge taken from science lessons at school. Guided by repressed rage, pushed over by fear.

Your real first kill.

The knife spins faster, only to sink into the wood of the window frame when you stab it into it.

-

Nothing is going to turn out tonight. This Is how they’ve put it when they’d sent you out on stakeout. Your presence here is a simple, mostly useless precaution.

You watch him from the table, posture leaned against the chair into a careful, lazy slump.

While you're open about your staring, he’s on the balcony, eyes scanning the streets below. Still you can feel his attention on you, muscles tense as neither of you outright acknowledges thick the tension weight over your heads.

The knife is a solid weight against in its holster, pressing flat against your thigh when you tense your leg. You reach below the table and play with the handle.

This night is not going to end like everyone expects it. You know.

He shifts his position and this time turns to meet your gaze head on, eyes scanning your expression and jaw clenching st what he finds.

Neither of you is waiting for the enemy, no. He knows.

-

141 finds you standing in the middle of the room. Gun warm in one hand. Knife stained red in the other.

Two bodies laying on the ruined carpet at your feet. Only one their foe; neither your friend.

-

They hold a funeral for him. Only his closest friends are permitted to assist. He had no family left.

They let you in when you show up with the rest of the team.

You suppose you shouden’t be surprised. They see you as the one who’d avenged their friend.

-

Soap clings to your clothes, desperate lips pressing against any part of your skin he can reach.

You try to enjoy the feeling, bask at his touch, but the salt you taste on his lips sends an old, familiar raging fire through your veins.

Despite being out of the picture he still stands in your way.

-

—

Name: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Status: KIA

His and his teammate's position had been compromised. Suspected cause of the mission failure is that someone set an ambush before their arrival on site. Attacker has been eliminated but whoever gave the information away is still to be found and caught.

—

You read through his file, brushing over the official story given to explain his death.

He should be grateful, wherever he is now in his afterlife. You’ve given him an honorable death, all things considered.

You do regret not getting your money back before getting rid of that mercenary.

Carefully, you slip the file back where it belongs, wiping away any trace that would tickle suspicion out of the most perceptive eye.

You’ve played this game for longer, than anyone could have ever guessed. The other player none other than yourself.

As you’ve known since the very beginning, you've let yourself step too close to the edge, and now it’s not your heart that’s gotten broken, by your mind.

Obsession.

You’ve fallen, and have no intention of climbing back up.

He is yours now, whether he knows it or not. He belongs to you, body, mind, and soul, whether he wants it or not.

~ ~ ~ thank you for reading! hope you liked it. tell me if there's anything I should fix, as I already said, I don't have the time to make this more accurate with research, but I'm more than open to suggestions and constructive criticism.