#michelle jones one-shot

[get-your-fics]

Boyfriend

Summary: You never would’ve left her alone for someone else to take her home.

Pairing: Michelle Jones x dark!fem!reader (w/ a side of MJ x Peter)

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Non-con, cheating, characters are in high school but are 18, underage drinking

Note: this is a very very late birthday present for my wife @darksideofthecocoamoon inspired by “Boyfriend” by Dove Cameron and spurred on by my need to assert my dominance over tom

Dating Peter wasn’t bad by any means, but it wasn’t perfect either.

MJ knew what she was getting into when she found out he was Spider-Man. Every relationship had its problems, of course, but it was different when you were dating a superhero, and an avenger at that.

All that to say, making time for each other was hard. He’d be gone on missions for days at a time, sometimes at the drop of a hat without so much as a word to MJ letting her know where he was. It sent her into an anxiety spiral, chewing her nails down to the quick as she thought about what he was doing, if he’d have another close call, or if he’d even come back at all.

She’d offered her help, of course, but Peter was insistent that she stayed out of it as much as possible. “I’m already putting you in enough danger just by being with you,” he said with his trademark puppy dog pout. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ve lost too many people I care about as it is.”

And despite how many times she told him he wouldn’t lose her, or how she could be of use to him (not to mention how she vaguely implied he was sexist by continuing to allow Ned to help him), he wouldn’t budge, so she backed down and dropped the topic altogether.

But all that was minor compared to you.

You were friends with Peter long before MJ started dating him, or talking to him, let alone even watching him. Your friendship always perplexed her, considering your other closest friend was Flash Thompson, the guy who went out of his way to torment Peter any chance he got, but she supposed that really wasn’t any of her business.

What really bothered her was that you didn’t like her and she didn’t know why. She constantly went out of her way to make small talk with you or include you whenever she, you, Peter, and Ned hung out together, but you made zero effort to make her feel welcome in return.

And the way you looked at her. God, she could feel your ice cold stare burning into her from across the room, like you were trying to snap her neck with the weight of your gaze alone.

MJ tried to bring it up to Peter once. “Have you ever dated her?”

He furrowed his brow. “What? No.”

“Or had a crush on her or anything?” she continued to pry.

“No, MJ, we’ve always just been friends.” He shook his head. “Where’s all this coming from?”

She sighed. “I don’t think she likes me very much, and I was wondering if it was because she’s jealous.”

“Babe, of course she likes you.” He slung an arm around her shoulder.

“She has a weird way of showing it,” she muttered under her breath.

He laughed. “Okay, she can be a little protective, but it’s just because she wants what’s best for me. I’ve known her since we were in diapers. We’re practically related.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

She mumbled acquiescence, but his words did little to reassure her, not as the days went by and the intense staring continued.

MJ couldn’t care less about parties, but Peter, on the other hand, didn’t want to miss a single one, even if it was being thrown by his mortal enemy, Flash Thompson. His need to partake in teenage experiences would forever be unsatisfied, but after losing his parents and enduring the burden of being Queen’s sanctified hero, MJ didn’t mind indulging him every now and then.

Even if it meant halfway through, Peter and Ned decide to ditch her. “I have something I have to take care of.” He gave her a knowing look.

“I’ll come with you,” she blurted without thinking.

“No, you stay here.” He was already backing away from her. “I’ll be back soon.”

He and Ned were working their way through the crowd before she could protest any further. She felt like a deflated balloon as she watched them go. Sure, she knew it would be selfish to keep him from his duties, especially when lives were most likely at stake. But she also knew that when Peter said ‘be back soon,’ she probably wouldn’t see him again for the rest of the night.

She relented and glued her back to the wall, scrolling through her phone to distract herself from the bodies grinding to the regurgitated pop music around her. She was pulled from her feed when someone crashed into her, spilling their drink in the process.

“Oh, shit!” She looked up to see you staring at her wide-eyed. “MJ, I didn’t see you there. I'm so sorry.”

Of course you didn’t. She suppressed an eyeroll. She already knew you were present at the party. She caught a glimpse of you earlier clinking glasses and joking around with Flash. She should’ve known the second Peter left you’d seize the opportunity to humiliate her without him present.

She looked down to see the front of Peter’s sweatshirt she was wearing soaked through, reeking of liquor, and her phone screen pitch black in her hand. Great.

You noticed her stained hoodie as well. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” you continued to apologize profusely.

“It’s alright.” She averted her gaze, rubbing her arm.

“Did I get your phone too?” You looked down at the phone in her hand.

She clicked the power button a couple times, but nothing happened. The cherry on top of a shit sundae.

“I’ll get you a new one,” you insisted.

She tried not to gawk. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to.” You winked at her, and she blanched. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the throng of partygoers before she could refuse. You led her into the laundry room and closed the door behind her, enshrouding you in darkness.

“Are you sure it’s okay that we’re in here?” MJ glanced side to side wearily.

“Oh, yeah. Me and Flash are like siblings. I practically live here.” You dismissed her concern with a wave of your hand. “Take off your hoodie so I can wash it.”

You reached for the hem of the sweatshirt, tugging it upwards. She awkwardly raised her arms and allowed you to remove the oversized garment, figuring it was better not to argue and go along with whatever you wanted. She shielded her bare torso, left in nothing but her bra.

You blinked at her exposed chest before turning towards the washing machine. You threw the sweatshirt inside, adding soap and pressing a few buttons before the machine started to shake.

You faced her and shrugged out of your hoodie. “Here, wear this while we wait.” You threw it to her. “It’ll probably be a little bit.”

She barely managed to catch it. She put it on and zipped it up all the way. It was significantly more snug to her body than she would’ve liked.

You looked her up and down. “That looks good on you. Fits better than that ratty sweatshirt.” You snickered. “You can keep it if you want.”

“That’s okay.” She shrugged. She didn’t understand why you were being nice to her out of the blue when before you looked like you wanted to skin her alive.

“What were you doing all by yourself?” You leaned your hip against the washer. “Where’s Peter?”

“He had to… take care of something.” She cringed at her poor delivery. At least it wasn’t technically a lie.

You tilted your head. “So he left you alone?”

She shifted uncomfortably under the weight of your gaze. “It’s not like that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t leave you on your own.” You moved closer to her. “I’d be afraid someone else would try to snatch you up.”

She shriveled under the weight of your gaze, but where she expected to see pure hatred, she found something else even more perplexing.

Was that… desire?

The entire world seemed to shift on its axis as she looked at you through brand new eyes. She’d thought you were jealous of her the entire time, but maybe Peter was the one you were really envious of.

“I’d treat you so much better than he does.” You reached up and cupped the side of her face in your hand. “I’ll even give you a little taste.”

Before she could stop you, you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers. She went stock still, eyes wide open in shock as your lips locked. She meant to push you away, but her muscles froze.

Your hand on her face reached up as you deepened the kiss, fingers tangling in her curls. You scraped your teeth against her bottom lip, softly tugging on it. You licked into her open mouth, tongue stroking against hers and coaxing it to life.

You pulled away with an audible pop, eyes half-lidded and a hint of a smirk toying at the corners of your lips. MJ gained a small semblance of clarity through the daze she was in to stammer, “But what about Pete?”

You hummed, scraping your nails pleasantly against her scalp. “What about him?”

She tried to ignore the tingles shooting down her spine. “He’s your best friend.”

You snorted. “I’d hardly call him a friend. He’s more like a pet that does what I tell him to.” You started to walk her back. “And sometimes, pets who misbehave need to have their toys taken away from them.”

The back of her legs bumped against the rumbling washer, and MJ’s hands reached out for you to stabilize herself before she could trip. You nipped at her throat, a growl low in your chest as your hands wandered like you were mapping the plane of her body. She squeaked as one hand found her breast, kneading the small mound over the soft fabric of the hoodie you’d leant her.

The other continued its search lower, plunging beneath the denim of her jeans. She mustered up enough strength to grasp your wrist. “Wait… I’ve never…”

You cocked your head. “You and Pete haven’t…?” She shook her head as you trailed off. Your eyes raked over her, and you scoffed. “I don’t understand how he could keep his hands off of you.”

Her hold on your wrist disintegrated as your hand dove beneath the elastic band of her underwear, fingers playing with the hair at her pelvis. They delved lower and traced the length of her slit, stopping at her clit and rubbing teasing circles.

Her body tensed as an unfamiliar sensation stirred in her core. Your lips curled into a pleased smirk. “Maybe he knows he can’t please you the way I can.”

Your fingers found her entrance, and her face screwed up as you pushed an appendage into her. She gripped your shoulders, digging her nails into the fabric of your shirt as you set an agonizingly slow pace.

You shushed her. “That’s it,” you coaxed her in a low voice. “You’re doing so well for me.”

A squelch was heard over the roar of the washer as her arousal eased the way for your intrusion. Your finger pumped in and out of her without resistance, slick pooling in the palm of your hand. You added another one, and she grimaced as her channel stretched to accommodate both fingers.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to get you alone,” you purred into her ear. Your thumb found her clit and brushed against the sensitive nub in time with your strokes.

She pushed down on your shoulders, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. “Don’t…” Her voice came out breathy as she squirmed against you. “Stop…”

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on stopping,” you rasped, shooting her a wink.

You curled your fingers, stoking the fire blooming white hot in her core. Your chest pressed flush against hers, pinning her between you and the washer. The vibrations of the machine shot through her, and the knot coiling in her gut grew worse.

Moans and gasps escaped her lips as she tried to fight against it, to suppress whatever it was your fingers brought to life in her until it was almost painful to resist. But she couldn’t stop herself as you pushed her over the precipice.

She felt like she was floating as her muscles seized, her walls spasming around your fingers. She made a high-pitched keen so unlike her as white dots burst across her vision. Your fingers never stopped thrusting, and her stomach dropped as she came down from her high.

You pulled your fingers out and stuck them in your mouth, slurping the juices sticking to your skin. You removed them with a salacious pop before capturing her lips in a kiss. She tasted herself on your tongue as it tangled with hers.

You pulled away, your lips shiny with a mixture of saliva and slick. MJ’s head felt like it was spinning as you ran your hand down the length of her arm. “Forget about the sweatshirt. It’s probably ruined anyway.” You threaded your fingers through hers and tugged. “And if you don’t want that hoodie, I have plenty of other clothes at my place to make up for it.”

#dark!fic #mj x reader #mj x y/n #mj x you #michelle jones #michelle jones x you #michelle jones x reader #michelle jones x y/n #dark!reader #fanfiction #one shot #marvel #zendaya

[nebulaafterdark]

Spicy Masterlist

ALL WORKS ARE 18+

All To Myself

Only For You

Rue being your first time

Banging the heck out of each other

Elliot & Rue Spicy Headcanons

Baby Making 1.0

Zero Pressure

Only For You

Spicy Headcanons

Jules & Elliot Spicy Headcanons

Elliot & Rue Spicy Headcanons

Only For You

Spicy headcanons

Jules & Elliot Spicy Headcanons

NSFW Alphabet

#elliot smut #elliot euphoria #rue bennett smut #elliot imagine #elliot one shot #elliot x reader #elliot x y/n #rue bennett x you #rue bennett one shot #rue bennett x y/n #jules vaughn x you #jules vaughn smut #jules vaughn imagine #masterlist #michelle jones x you #michelle jones smut #michelle jones x reader #michelle jones

[rachalixie]

my place is with you

Pairing: Peter Parker & Tony Stark (gen)

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1036

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess

“sometimes, peter parker would find himself hanging out in stark tower without tony. not in a creepy i’m-hanging-out-in-your-bedroom-slash-private-workspace-without-you kind of way, but just to be within those comfortable walls without a reason.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39370425

#peter parker #tony stark #tony stark and peter parker #irondad #tony stark as peter parker’s parental figure #post endgame #pre endgame #post no way home #pre no way home #michelle jones #ned leeds #pepper potts #marvel #mcu #fic #one shot #hurt/comfort #hurt no comfort

[hwaightme]

Bang bang

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR STAR'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

⚫ pairing: gangster/mafia!seonghwa x stripper/afab!reader ⚫ genre: smut, mafia!au, noir, ganster film style, bits of angst ⚫ summary: Bang bang, he shot me down / Bang bang, I hit the ground / Bang bang, that awful sound / Bang bang, my baby shot me down... the words never sounded truer as you hunt for the man who made you fall from grace. ⚫ wordcount: 14.6k ⚫ warnings/tags: barely edited (written in a chaotic flurry), gangsters, murder, guns, blood, attacking, language, strip club, slight objectification, rudeness, bickering and arguing, emotional manipulation, revenge, death [of a side oc], yandere themes, obsessive behaviour, alcohol, money, seonghwa driving expensive cars, betrayal mention... lmk if anything else. ⚫ perma-taglist: @legohwas @doom-fics @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 ⚫ a/n: HAPPY SEONGHWA DAY!!!! May our brightest star be blessed with everything and more <3 (and never venture into what this fic contains lol); much love and appreciation to nora for going unchained over mafia hwa, and for supporting me through the blackout that was the writing process for this fic. Much love, all reblogs, comments, thoughts welcome~

⚫ nsfw tags: hate sex, car sex, fingering (receiving), sub-leaning reader but a hardcore brat, dom-leaning seonghwa but he enjoys the degradation, degradation (whore, slut, cock slut...), pet names and praises (doll, precious angel, darling, baby, sweetheart), a bit of impact play (slapping), orgasm denial, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), blowjob, deepthroating, hair tugging/yanking, manhandling, grinding, spit play, come in mouth/swallowing... whew

⚫ playlist: bang bang (from kill bill) by geek music, showed me (how i fell in love with you) by madison beer, you put a spell on me by austin giorgio, i've got to see you again by norah jones, who do you want by ex habit, woman by emmit fenn, bad drugs by king kavalier, often by the weeknd, chills (dark version) by mickey valen

Bang bang… he shot me down…

You had given up on seeing him again. Searching for him, hellbent on getting the last word. You had been confident that finally, after all this time, your tortured soul could get some rest. That was until your eyes locked with his in a silent duel, that shit-eating grin on his face growing wider as he studied the wounds he had left behind. The invisible scars that were the start of your metamorphosis.

It was not that you had never imagined meeting the fiendish man again – in fact, you swore that it was your only relief: to fantasise about what you would do if you were to physically cross paths somewhere in this forlorn city, and many nights you would wake up in cold sweat after hearing the intoxicating low-toned laughter resonate in your skull. He haunted you and you knew that he was watching your every move like a sadistic predator. As such, the only thing that had driven you out of your madness, the flimsy umbrella that you clung onto amidst your fall from the life you had built and hoped to have, was to wish that one day, you could do the same. And seeing him right there, in front of you, in his tailored suit and jewellery bathed in blood as the spotlights made him look like the devil himself, the notion of hoping returned.

When a strobe light flashed across his faced you saw him lean and whisper something into the ear of one of his goons, evidently excited to having spotted you. After the ever so slightly shorter, but impressively built, undoubtedly a dark-souled man armed to the teeth, surely his bodyguard, nodded a couple of times, and in turn called over one of the waiters to continue the chain only for the latter to shrink and rush off into the backrooms, your nightmare ambled towards the bar. With a quick unbuttoning of his suit jacket, he settled in one of the stools and spun around to face the stage. To face you. Subject you to a mocking scrutiny while you had no choice but to continue dancing.

As he mindlessly took a black card out of his pocket and passed it to the bartender, without sparing a glance behind him, the object pinched between his pointer and middle fingers, you were in your lonesome on the stage, fighting an uphill battle for every coin and paper bill. Spinning in circles like an animal trapped in a cage, clinging to the pole as though it was a thread connecting you to existence itself, even though experience had shown you that in this, you were skilled only in going down. That man who made living seem easy, despite, or perhaps thanks to the darkness from which he was undoubtedly spawned. Your first love, your first heartbreak, your first glimpse into how the world could chew you up and spit you out – life that was a forbidden fruit so beautiful, so tantalising to where through atrocious flavour and agony one would bite through to the rotten centre and willingly lose their senses to keep a piece to themselves.

His eyes tirelessly accompanied your every move as you went through your routine. Grinding against the pole, crawling across the stage as onlookers and perverts – those who you had to call revered guests because they could spend, and spend a lot, ogled you and yelled heinous remarks, you had not felt so humiliated in a long time. The transition to your present career had been a follow up to a series of events that had shut all other doors – you considered yourself lucky that you had even had the chance to catch yourself on these professional branches during your painful descent. And you had to admit, it did pay well. In a couple of months, after you had definitely breached all work hour regulations, you had managed to pay off your fines and numb yourself to your revoked medical licence. Things were looking up, like the heels you wore. Not quite sky-high, but nevertheless, not in the sewers. But now that being sat at the bar, devouring you with his smouldering gaze and using you for cheap amusement, made you feel filthy. With his pristine, clean, supreme ‘I am above you all’ aura, he might as well state that he owned you. Maybe, in a way, he did. Since his ‘company’, or as one would say ‘bunch of organised hoodlums in suits’ behind closed doors, owned this club among many others dotted around the metropolis.

You climbed up, approaching the finale of your performance. Soon you would be able to leave that creature’s gaze and hide in the rank bathrooms until the coast was clear. Even if that meant you had to abandon the bills. Or no, no you would have the time. You had rent to pay, what were you thinking? And you still needed to return the money you borrowed for the funeral, despite you being told that your now ex could be left to rot just fine. The act was more for you anyways – you wanted to prove to yourself that you still knew honour and tradition, regardless of how far you had been swept up by the unforgiving currents of the underworld. So now, to pay for your illusion of honour, you put on a show and flaunted what you had, fuelled by an undercurrent of indescribable disgust.

To the numbing bassline and an addictive beat you went higher and higher, letting the sensuality envelop you once more. If the months that stacked themselves like cash had taught you anything, this passage of time that you had spent nomadic, performing in one club, another, until you ended up in the one where you were now centre stage, it was that professionalism came first. You were surprised to find out just how many of your academic and practical skills had actually been put to good use – well, maybe not things like knowing components of the limbic system but having a steady hand and being able to manoeuvre out of uncomfortable situations in a cool and calculated manner certainly did their wonders. As you performed a high kick hold, and let your toes discreetly push off the ground for more momentum, you were already thinking a couple of steps ahead. The fairy, the floaters transition, you mentally listed and promptly ticked off the items, going from one move to another. It was nothing more than an elaborate ploy to convince those ogling you, some even unceremoniously palming themselves through their trousers, to give you their ‘hard earned cash’. Though, you never wanted to know where exactly that cash came from. It was not your problem, and you were quick enough to realise that it was better to keep your mouth shut and ask less questions. What these men wanted to see was a pretty doll spinning on a pole as if just for them, a fantasy just a couple of steps away from them. Not some amateur interrogator. 

His figure burned into your retinas as you amplified your dramatics, and stole the night for yourself with flair, flipping yourself upside down, only to recover and descend into your final pose. Due to the sweat and the light body highlighter that you had applied to make your features pop, you were an impossibly entrancing vision. A deity of the underworld that just so happened to find it entertaining to grace the local scum with her presence. 

The handsome black-haired man, an enticing, lethal ‘bella donna’ flower continued watching the forbidden apple of his eye. He had finally gotten you within his reach after so many months of playing cat and mouse. You were unbelievably easy to track, never having attempted to hide yourself, but for him to restrain himself for so long and not hunt you down at first opportunity was borderline torturous. Park Seonghwa was never one to wait. If he wanted something, or someone, he got it instantly, handed to him on a platinum platter. But your hatred was like an addictive scent that brought him to an unprecedented high. Each time he had news delivered of you discreetly asking after him at a club, or you trying to frequent an area where he had been spotted, evidently on a mission to do exactly what he was doing to you, it brought Seonghwa an excitement that shook him to the core.

But now that you were here, in his lair, his first club that he had opened, still a junior in the business at the time and coincidentally, still having been in what could be called a relationship with you, he could not resist. His mind had been screaming Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, every hour of the day, and his primal desires grew stronger than ever before. As he inspected the way in which you bent down to take bills from eager hands, coy and purposefully demure so as to attract even more tips, sinful musings clouded him. He could not ignore the curve of your back as you tapped another fowl man’s chin and took what was definitely over his budget right out of his beggarly hands. Seonghwa was tense as he focused on the white dancewear that adorned your body, elegant lace providing a dizzying contrast to the lewd scene as you let another imp paw at your ass as he hooked the waistband of your thong to leave more crisp notes.

The act of a sensational seductress, you practically glided off the stage, the platform heels doing little to diminish your resolve. You were even better than what he could have ever imagined from the stories that his closest allies and bodyguards had relayed to him. And while, San, the man who he had entrusted with observing you particularly closely once news had gotten around that you joined Club Estelle, had expressed your resounding success and renowned desirability on a number of occasions, now that Seonghwa had seen it he was nothing but proud. His masterpiece, his project, his precious little cherub was doing so well. All for him. How could he not grace you with his presence after seeing such a show?

You knew there was no way of escaping the monster, even if you had the ability to turn invisible, so you were not too surprised when you had found the man who had been next to him for the duration of the performance standing in front of you. What you were taken aback by, was how in just a flash, the man’s intimidating aura dissipated to reveal a charming, heart melting smile and twinkling eyes.

“Miss L/N Y/N?” voice equally as sweet, he inquired. Though you had no doubt that his was just airs preceding the request for you to accompany him to his boss.

“Yes. And you are?” remaining amiable, albeit distant, you responded, crossing your arms in a subconsciously protective manner.

“Merely delivering the request for your audience with my chief.”

You motioned for him to accompany you to the back, signalling that you needed to store the cash before any further discussions were made. The sweetheart obliged, and let you take the lead. In your peripherals, you spotted Seonghwa gripping his drink a little too tightly to be indifferent. As questionably possessive as ever, it seemed. Once you and the muscular bodyguard who you discovered was wearing a double holder were behind the curtain that served as a door to a dark corridor, you continued the conversation.

“A request or an order?” 

Absent-mindedly, you checked the quantity of the bills which you had collected - the rest were already waiting for you in the room, courtesy of the waitstaff whom you had actually managed to make something of a deal with: you did not tell anyone about their habit of permanently borrowing beverages from the bar, and they did small errands for you. Maybe this man with cat-like features was in a similar agreement with Seonghwa, though the likelihood of there being blood involved was too high.

“A request that I would definitely advise you to follow.” he insisted, holding open the door to the changing room as you inspected the bucket that had been left for you in the corner, with neatly collected, crisp notes. Your favourite sight as of late.

“If you answer my question.” you threw out while organising the money inside of a sports bag - the storage of your professional life. Once you were done, you shoved the item into your personal locker, sealing it shut and spinning around to face the man again as he beckoned you.

“Kindly, follow me, Miss.”

“Who am I following?” you repeated, desperately curious to know of this man’s identity. Nevertheless, your feet carried you forward, and you yielded to his summons, heading back out into the club.

“Mister Park Seonghwa’s man.”

“Ooh, his man…”

“Right hand man.” he elaborated, making you roll your eyes.

“So no name to pair with such a handsome face?”

The answers were almost automatic. It was not foreign to you to flirt with strangers, since that way you amplified your chances of financial success, but never before did you catch yourself being so passive, even when the intonations were well practised and near identical to what you would normally say. But there was no one, nor nothing, to blame except the hardwired response to the nearing figure of a very specific gangster, on whom your gaze immediately settled as soon as you reached the edge of the prolonged bar counter.

“I believe that Mister Park would not enjoy hearing such words from you.” of course he would not. When did he ever enjoy you complimenting anyone else except him? San steeled himself as he lowered his head, while you let the fingers of your right hand flitter over the counter as you sauntered over to the man who could not even be bothered to approach you himself, despite having evaporated from your life for an unbearable collection of months.

“Then he would not have sent you to fetch me. He should know that I appreciate beauty-” you were testing your luck, uttering the words when within the gangster’s earshot. Thankfully for San, he chose to take the matter into his own hands and, setting aside the glass of cognac with a delicate push, addressed his bodyguard.

“Sannie, is Y/N giving you a tough time?”

Your name sounded precious, meaningful when he said it. Like it had a genuine purpose in this mortal realm. A melodic uttering of simple sounds that drowned out the pulsing beat that zombified the visitors of Club Estelle. Whether that music was on or not made no difference to you - either way, you would only hear Seonghwa. His voice was like a rumbling of an oncoming thunderstorm amidst a nighttime quiet. The rolling growls of heaven’s rage as steel grey clouds stalked across the sky, wrapping the defenceless earth in a catastrophic promise. With nothing but a foggy trepidation in your chest, you slid onto the seat that was to your nightmare’s right, turning to have your back to the bar and rest your elbows behind you on the elevated table. 

“Uh, not at all, sir.” San’s shift in mien was comical. In a flash, he had stepped down from the pedestal of a man who made the demands, to a servant who you struggled to imagine acting a step out of the lines that his boss had drawn out for him. You raised an eyebrow, giving the guard a onceover.

“Sannie?”

“Yes, darling. San. Like a mountain. Isn’t it cute?” Seonghwa interjected again, not letting the man who you were addressing as much as regard you. Apparently, being under his command also meant that you were instantly off limits. How dull.

“Interesting word choice…”

“He is a cutie, though, aren’t you, Sannie?” smirk gracing his lips, Seonghwa teased the cutie, who, judging by the sheer broadness of his shoulders, could probably snap a person in half with his bare hands. Not that the person would complain since the last thing they would see would be that pretty face… but that was besides the point. No one in the mafia was soft and fluffy. And if there had ever been, they had not survived long enough to establish themselves as the sole representative in history. 

“No comment.” 

“See? How fucking adorable,” with an icy tone, Seonghwa concluded. “Now, could you give us some time to speak tête-à-tête?”

“Of course.”

As rapidly as his appearance had been, so was his departure into the lingering crowd. A newbie - even more new to the business than you, was beginning her performance, and had caught the attention of a couple of the regular patrons, and the lewd chatter had picked up considerably. It was apparent, however, that it was not enough to capture the interest of the man in front of you, who shifted his seating to face in your direction, and officially broke open the door into your life once again. Not because you had been tirelessly searching for him. But because he found it beneficial for himself to make himself known to you.

“Greetings and salutations, Y/N, it’s been a while. We have much to catch up on, don’t you think?” you blinked slowly, suppressing a rude scoff. People were still watching you, that much you were aware of. Those were the perks, or the faults with wearing stripper dancewear. You were the fixation of lustful eyes, the cool glass of water that was just out of reach for the hoards of parched scum.

“I have nothing to say to you, Seonghwa.”

“Ah how I missed you saying my name.”

“And I’d rather you keep mine out of your mouth.” a total lie, had you considered your instincts and how your legs had instinctively tilted closer to the brunette, but you were not about to throw away months of fantasising the man’s demise at the first interaction. You had at least some restraint left.

“Only if you can silence me. I know a couple of ways.” he winked, but you pretended not to catch it as you stared down at his hand that was lying on the counter, studying the ornate decal on the fingerless leather glove.

Taking notice of your preoccupation, he tapped his fingers on the surface, making the silver studs that ran down each digit and surrounded the opening on the back of the hand shine in the glimmering lights. You counted the holes that revealed his knuckles, for no reason other than to try shifting focus. You were not opposed to this kind of interaction. Gestures. Hints. Symbols. It was a horrifying craving that started in the abyss that Seonghwa had left in your tarnished soul, an affliction caused and amplified even by the most mundane details. You could feel those same fingers wrapping themselves around your neck, tracing your jawline, making a ghostly descent down your body. A shiver ran down your spine as you tore yourself away from the sight that had turned into a sinful recollection, forcing out a jarring taunt to convince yourself that there were no undertones to Seonghwa’s phrase.

“With a gun?”

He was not buying it. His precious flower, barely dressed and yet graceful to the extent of rivalling divinity, squirming from his mere presence. This was what he had been searching for, all this time that he had denied you contact. You had been a bad girl. Running, thinking you were pure and angelic. He did not want you that way, so he took his time winding you up, making your world collapse so that you would be ready to take the real him. Not the foolish goon that he had been before. You had been so sweet, doting on him and showing him off to your friends. But what he yearned for was the animalistic antagonisation of his very being. The fire in your heart that drove you to a vengeful insanity. Seonghwa’s tongue pushed at the corner of his mouth before running over his bottom lip, disappearing to give way to a smug grin as he noticed your eyes dart to the action. He comprehended your capabilities properly. More than any of those quacks who you had looked up to ever could. Your demons were loud, and yet you had gone to great lengths to suppress them, even when you were the most beautiful like this. The mortal embodiment of Discordia. Truly, the one deity he would worship. The only one who he would continue sacrificing for.

“Ah, that reminds me. Heard about your boyfriend, such a shame really. He was so young…” he pondered out loud, not a single bit apologetic.

“That’s rich coming from the man who put a bullet between his eyes.” you hissed, crossing your arms as a man walked past and openly gawked at your breasts. 

Though that quickly resulted in a not so subtle threat, with Seonghwa leaning back to adjust his jacket, only to reveal the grip of a menacing handgun, tucked away into a leather holster. The visitor, who had purposely slowed his pace, bolted from the spot, giving the gangster one final look before rushing to the other side of the club. As if looking for your praise, or approval, Seonghwa hid the gun from sight once again and gazed at you, softer and more affectionate than before, his eyes transforming to take on more of a doe shape and inducing an uncomfortable pain. When you did not satisfy him, he clicked his tongue and ran his hands over his hair, shorter at the sides and revealing a buzzcut design that had begun to fade with growth. The new style suited him, you decided. Almost too well. It was frustrating.

“Ah, ah, no. Not me. My hands are clean, sweetheart.” he raised them, a hilarious attempt at trying to prove his innocence which you chose to ignore. No matter how obsessively he washed his acts away, blood was more than a rusty red liquid. It was a curse that stained the skin of those who wished to draw it with an eternal permanence, passing from generation to generation until the Earth was saturated with the hue. Ignoring the blatant bullshit, you mused the fate of the man who you had used to fill the void.

“What the fuck did he even do to you guys?”

“Oh you know how it is. Got a taste of success, got a little too greedy… and kaput. Didn’t keep a clean inventory and clean percentages, you see. And I don’t like when things aren’t clean.” you did not have to be brought into the matter any further than that. You certainly did not need to be let in on the fact that your ex was actually one of the best dealers in his district. He was just a little too close to you for Seonghwa’s comfort.

“Sure you don’t. You said the word, what, four times already? That’s why you even launder your money…” you muttered, not noticing how Seonghwa’s elbow slid closer to you until his hand began to play with a lock of your hair.

“Ah, so attentive, counting what I say…” twirling it around his finger, he observed how the myriad of colour from the club’s lights managed to change its shine, and let it fall back into an alluring cascade, “... and not only that, we also do pest control. The last thing we need is lowly vermin poisoning our supply chains and ruining user experience for our end clients, right?”

“I still don’t-”

“Funny how you got involved with him. Of all people. A drug dealer.” it was easy to make you shift focus. One mention of your failed career, and you were gone. So, in a dire situation such as this, Seonghwa would be a fool not to use this fact.

“Guess he was the only one there to actually support me in the shitstorm. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Now, now, no need to thank me, darling, when I did nothing-”

“I was blacklisted, Seonghwa. Do you know what that means?” slamming the counter with your hand, you stood up off the stool and glowered. Oh, how adorable it was when you got so riled up. A darkness flashed across his eyes as he imagined you to be a tiny predator, ready to pounce. How endearing.

“I can try to guess, though something tells me you will provide more details.” he egged you on, enthralled by how you tried to hover over him, but still retained his favourite fragility.

“It means my dreams have gone up a rat’s ass. I wanted to be a nurse, Seonghwa. And yet, as soon as I get to work, the next day after helping you and your stupid goons, I get kicked out and sued.” The only downside that he could see was that he would not be able to have his way with you were all professional and in a dainty nurse’s outfit. Though… he would have had to make some adjustments to the scrubs for that. A few rips here and there would not hurt anybody.

“It really was only basic supplies that you permanently borrowed, and for the greater good at that. I still think the hospital over-exaggerated.” you had been more than benevolent. Overlooking status, background and appearance you had dashed to lend a hand. Seonghwa had counted on you to do that so that he could drag you down closer to himself.

“In the eyes of the law, I am a thief who has gotten away with far too light a punishment.”

“And I see a saviour.” a merciful fucktoy who he had initially simply been playing around with, only to discover that you were so pathetically trusting that he could not help but fall in love.

“Poetic.” you responded sarcastically, raising your eyebrows. Seonghwa was bearing witness to the dissolution of your resistance. As much as you wished you could keep the game up, his charming falsities and unforgivable seduction were a delight that you could not withstand. 

“You know one of those ‘stupid goons’ celebrated his wedding anniversary with his wife two months ago? And then the other sent his daughter to primary school not long ago… Like I said, you made a sacrifice that those bureaucratic little shits, hidden away in offices, would never make. You care for people.”

His hands snaked to your hips, and he pulled you closer to him until you were trapped with his legs on either side of you. Even though physically you were the one looking down, every passing second you felt more and more like a lab experiment or a sample under a microscope. He was dissecting you, tearing you apart and rebuilding you once again so that you would be just right. Just for him. His favourite doll.

“Seems I care for the wrong people.” you alluded to the man in front of you, a shallow, staggered breath escaping you as he gripped a little tighter.

“Do you regret it?” his eyes. Two dark pools which housed your tailored terror, but had to be so lovable. The devil always took on the most beautiful form.

Your silence told him everything he needed to hear. You could have pushed him away, slapped him across the cheek. Hell, you could have told San to get lost - though in that case you would have probably been disposed of and continued your existence as an addition to a faraway landfill. But that was besides the point. Because you were not indifferent. And the boundary between love and hatred was nearly invisible.

“So happy to have you here. At last.” just as he was about to bring you into an embrace, drunk from the elation of your first meeting in what had to have been an eternity, you pressed down on his shoulders, narrowly avoiding the stark white collar of his shirt that was laid over his jacket, and pushed away, hostility written over your features.

“That’s why I bet you are proud of having sold me out.”

“Who said that?” confused, Seonghwa inquired.

“I just know it.”

“And I am asking, who told you that I sold you out?” stuck in what could only be equated to a tug of war, the two of you were challenging each other to ‘try their worst’.

“My e-”

“The druggie. Right. Of course he did. I bet he told you a lot of things.”

“Like how you used me…”

“Uh-huh,” his hands glided up your body until he stood up, and your arms were limp at your sides once more.

“Corrupted me…”

“My love, you’re still an angel,” he cupped your chin and gazed deep into your eyes, noting that it was as if you were reciting something that you had practised time and time again in front of a mirror until it made no more sense to you than white noise.

“Then betrayed me…”

“Something I would not do under any circumstance. You know what family honour is.” Seonghwa did not betray. He acted in ways that benefited him. And if it just so happened to leave others hurt, it was their fault for caring so much.

“Family. What the hell do you know about family?” you were seething. He was burning you. Again, and again, and again. And you were readily giving in every single time.

“Certainly more than you. Oh sweetheart, I know how lonely you have been-” he wanted to comfort you, even if that made him nauseous, but thankfully, you were not in the mood and stepped away, making him let go of you.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I only want to-”

“I said. Don’t. Seonghwa. Look. I- I hate you. Okay?” music to his ears. How you desperately tried to get away from him and from your own feelings. Scared little pet.

“Are you trying to convince yourself?” the phrase echoed within you as you took another step backwards, realising too late that you had let him wrap himself around you like a hungry python. You needed out. This was it. Final. You needed some air. Or better, to return home, climb into bed, and pretend this never happened. Future you could handle this problem, present you was irrational, risk-seeking and a harm to the self.

“N-no. I. I need to go.”

“You know you can’t.” Seonghwa whispered out loud as he watched your determined departure, right up until you were behind that heavy velvet curtain. 

He picked up his glass and studied the clear, russet contents, and let the liquid slosh around to take in the aroma. With a quick sip, he was back to his usual self, and the smile that was on his face was instantly erased. Bored, the dangerous man leaned against the counter with the weight of his body, imitating your earlier posture and commanded:

“San, I know you’re lurking, come here.” Indeed, in a matter of seconds, his bodyguard appeared from behind one of the pillars that was located closer to the kitchen.

“Yes, sir?”

“You see that man over there?” raising his glass, Seonghwa pointed in the direction of one of the very dedicated hounds who was by the stage. He had been particularly involved in your act, and from the moment Seonghwa had first noticed him, to the very last moment that you were up there, the tipsy man had probably dropped at least a couple thousand dollars’ worth of cash. He was the perfect candidate for the gangster’s plan.

“The one in the green hoodie?”

“Yes, that sleazy bastard. How about we cast him as the bad guy, huh? Payment upfront.” San nodded. The method was simple, and had shown tremendous success in the past. He hummed in agreement, waiting for Seonghwa to add his usual:

“Temporarily, of course. All in good fun.”

“Understood. What should I lay over?”

“That a certain Y/N is particularly ravishing after her performances, and will be at the back exit in about twenty minutes.”

Bang bang, I hit the ground…

Maybe what that gangster had said was true, and that you were too good for the ‘overworld’. It was an attractive thought. Perhaps after the doors to the medical field and consequently a wide range of other careers you had considered had been shut, due to your newfound, albeit light, but nevertheless a serious enough criminal record, you ended up simply tapping into your true nature as a creature of the underworld. While out there, you had always been average, here you were a saviour. A goddess. A queen. Maybe you indeed were celebrated and had gifts thrown at your feet exactly because you deserved nothing less. The chasm that was the dark side of the corrupt city might be your true home, and you had simply been in denial, running away from it. 

How easy it was to fall back into your patterns. As you sank into Seonghwa’s eyes, you recollected your time with him. The attentiveness that he had shown you. The way in which he would patiently listen to you explain obscure medical terminology, convincing you that, to him and him alone, it was interesting. You had felt blessed then. And that was exactly why you wanted to erase him. As you strutted down the corridor that ran behind the main hall of the club, leading you to the back rooms that were for staff and artists only, you shook your head. Wishful that this would help you get rid of the reminiscing of the last ‘easy’ time of your life. Before you revealed to yourself that you would commit a crime in the name of love. Even when that love was merely an illusion. Confused by your own feelings, still seeing a glowing red target over Seonghwa’s evil heart while making out golden glimmers on its surface, you stormed into the changing room and let out a sigh of relief as you saw it completely empty. You could meditate on your frightening conversation with the devil himself.

There was something therapeutic about the wind down from your performances, if you were to forget about the side eyes you were being thrown after having been caught talking to the owner of the establishment, and according to some of the whispers, a very desired man. How they could overlook the fact that he was more cold blooded than a snake when it came to satisfying their need for a happy and tranquil life amazed you. With the thumping of the music feeling so far away that you were practically enveloped in a sea of cotton, and the lights emitting a more familiar fluorescence, like a late night grocery store rather than the strobes, sickly colour selections and kaleidoscopic reflections, the changing room was a sort of safe space. You were trying to stuff the bills that you had collected, and the chunky stripper heels into a nondescript sports bag, after having covered yourself up with something more appropriate for a ‘so late it could be considered early’ trek back home.

You needed time to yourself before you were going to black out and make some foolish decisions concerning that conniving man. It was a curse, without a doubt. Not dissimilar to the very drugs you had smuggled, he was hard to quit. And you hated him for it. At least this was what you had been openly declaring, and were not going to give up on. If anything, this was your new habit. Imagining revenge on Park Seonghwa. You were going to get it. Eventually. You still had some hope left in you, even though your feet were currently struggling to hold you up, even in your sneakers, a hint of a fire in your chest as your memories of the man were refreshed. Did he have to look more handsome than before? More refined? More demonic?

When you had met him during a night out with your friends at a bar in the classier side of town, Seonghwa had introduced himself as an ‘intern’, which you now understood as one of the lower ranking goons who did the dirty work. Now, he was all white shirt and spotless sleeves, smooth skin and perfectly manicured hands, only a breath away from being a model rather than a hardened and ruthless criminal. Perhaps it was this contrast that had resulted in the man having cemented the nickname ‘Mars’ for himself, as you had found out from a few tipsy insiders who would do anything for a private show. The god of war, destruction, bloodshed, all in the name of an interpretation of peace and prosperity. The dangerous balance on the tip of a razor, by which you had undoubtedly been slaughtered.

He was a mastermind, a monstrosity in a beautiful guise as he ran, alongside the uppermost echelons of the mafia that effectively had the city, and at this point you would not put it beyond them - the country in a chokehold, the numerous operations that kept the underworld’s heart pumping. An inky fluid, viscous and bitter, one which you had accepted in a pretty glass of so-called love without thinking twice. Seonghwa knew how to make you happy. And the longer that went on, the more of a problem that became. He knew just how to spin thread out of you, how to wrap you again, and again around his finger until you were nothing more than one of the rings that he would occasionally wear to complete his outfits. And in such a hypnotised state, you thought you were doing the right thing when you broke into the place that was housing your professional dreams, and crept to retrieve some of the most sought after medication. Just for him. Oh how he thanked you then. How he had professed his love to you and praised you. You had been on cloud nine. Until you found out that someone had anonymously filed a report against you, provided all evidence, somehow all in the same night, and by the next midday you had already been summoned to court.

The day when you had stepped out of the courthouse was imprinted in your mind. Having received a much kinder sentence than one you had expected - more financial and reputational damages than anything else, you had been upbeat enough to engage in smalltalk with the state-provided lawyer whose name you had forgotten in a few hours. At least you had been that way before you saw him across the street. Lower body hidden by a jet black, matte sports car, black suit, black shirt, black hair… the reaper himself having arrived to taunt you and laugh at the death of your career. A carefree smile had been replaced by a deep scowl as the gears clicked, the puzzle completed itself in your head. Seonghwa. It had to be Seonghwa. It took every fibre of your being to restrain yourself from committing another criminal offence and attack him, and instead watch him climb into his car as though you had been nothing but empty space to him, and speed off in the direction of uptown. A murder most fowl. Of your soul, of your heart. And what mind you had left, you had promised to dedicate to hunting him down.

You sighed as you heaved the emergency exit door open, having avoided the main back entrance out of fear that Seonghwa might be there, or anywhere inside Club Estelle. What did you mean by hunting him down? Now that he was there. Within slapping distance, if you were to put it in an unceremonious manner. What were you actually seeking? Was it your mind twisting your desire for him to simply make a return and instead of stalling on your destruction, simply go on ahead with it and shoot you down? You shook your head, pulling the hoodie that was covering your otherwise scandalous outfit tighter around you as the cool air enveloped you. It was almost peaceful. Almost quiet. Almost.

“Hey Y/N~ you put on suuuuch a goood show, baby girl… fucking fantastic… damn. Was told I could catch you here and damn, you are a goddess.”

You snapped in the direction of the sound, finding a man who was rocking side to side approaching you. Relatively tall, scruffy, with dirt-stained clothing hanging off, unfortunately, a more athletic-looking body. So striking him with one of the heels in your bag and running was out of the question. Besides, who knew how he would act if he saw the cash? You backed away having been met by the stench of what had to have been at least three shots of the strongest liquor in the house, and found yourself with your back pressed against a wall of the dimly lit alleyway between the club, and a line of dumpsters, with this very drunk problem whose perverted grin was inducing an uncontrollable trembling. The longer you stood in this state of a showdown, much like a wild west film, the more he was suffocating you with the overwhelming, acrid stench of sweat, cigarettes and whatever concoction his stomach had made out of the alcohol he had consumed.

“Can I get a… private show, huh? Swear’ve been good just for you baby girl.”

You suddenly felt so alone. Abandoned. Terrifying conclusions running through your head. There was not a single performer at the club who you were more than acquaintances with, and even then, would they help? The club bouncers rarely got involved since the majority of the customers were high-paying, and apparently the rule there was: if they had cash, they could behave like trash. Maybe a dead stripper to them was just the usual night. Who would you have called in the past? You hated to admit the name, the face that floated into your brain as soon as you asked yourself the question. But Seonghwa had a way with situations like this. He had stood up for you before, to the point where you had to kiss away his pain and treat his wounds - though that was nothing compared to the scarlet sight that he had painted in your honour. It was horrific, and yet, he had made you smile. It had probably been the grandest gesture of adoration that you had ever received. 

Still managing to keep some distance between you and the disgusting creature, your brain went into overdrive. You were backing away from him, but there was only so much time before he would pounce. As much as you wanted to just scream your heart out and pray some, well, a very specific, knight in shining armour would appear out of nowhere, you were a big girl and knew that the stories you indulged in reading were not true. In real life, and especially your own life, you had to be your own hero. It was your mission to remind yourself that Seonghwa was a villain. So you tried to project him onto your temporary enemy.

Although the action made bile rise in your throat, you peered into the drunk’s eyes, trying to read his actions. Not quite walking straight, he took another step towards you, supporting himself by pushing on the dumpster to his left, your right. You immediately mirrored it, your hand feeling for the wall to your right. A couple more steps and you would be right beside a trash pile that you had spotted when you first appeared in the alley way from the staff exit – the bastard sure was persistent and did not want to give up on you. You sneered – it could almost be his redeeming quality, compared to a certain someone else who liked to drive into the metropolis and then turn into an omniscient poltergeist.

“Come on, why are you being such a tease? Weren’t you having the time of your life earlier? So sexy, don’t you want to use that?”

He was making your skin crawl. You were trying your hardest to not interact with him more than necessary and stayed quiet. One wrong move and you were going to be in much deeper trouble than this. The sort where the best-case scenario you envisioned was showing up in the news, not so alive and in a ditch. The situation reminded you of a short story by Rudyard Kipling, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, but instead of a face off between a mongoose and a king cobra, there was a young woman with a flurry of ruminations and a myriad of regrets. Though the latter was definitely swaying like a snake.

“Hey, baby girl, are you not going to come to daddy any time soon? I am getting impatient, baby, and you don’t want to piss me off.” He growled, his previously aimless blabber turning into a threat.

Your body was screaming for you to just make a run for it, but you knew better than that. This guy, unfortunately for you, was sporty enough and lanky enough to catch up to you in no time. On top of his build, you had the brilliant idea to wear new heels for your show today, which had cut into your flesh just enough to hurt, as if scolding you and repeating ‘I told you so’ and leaving your feet exhausted. As you stole a glance at the more comfortable pair of shoes for which you had settled, it was as though a lightbulb went off in your head. That was right. You did have manoeuvrability. You just needed to get one hit. 

You neared the exit of the alley, judging your proximity solely by the light emanating from a lonely street lamp right back on the main street. You steadied yourself as you saw the man open his mouth again and crouched further down to reach for an empty wine bottle that was lying on top of the pile you had been counting on. Keeping it hidden from the man, you stepped to the side, obscuring half of your body behind the large trash bin.

“What are you doing you bitch, huh? Answer me. I’ll give you one more chance.”

You remained silent, sliding your bag off your shoulder for better movement, pleading that it would not make a noise. The first glide down your upper arm was smooth enough, though your relief did not last long as it accelerated and came down to crash on some debris. That appeared to trigger new aggression in your opponent, as he practically snarled and lunged forwards, arms outstretched. You jumped backwards, only nearly missing a pipe protruding from one of the walls, and made contact with one of the walls, tripping the man as you did so. You were not thinking clearly, vision a blur, your surroundings spinning. You had only one mission now – survive. While the man was picking himself up, cursing and inspecting his painfully grazed hands, your eyes focused on the back of his head.

What if this was Seonghwa? What would you do? He had betrayed you, didn’t he? He had no right to be in your life again, regardless of your instincts. Regardless of how terrific he looked and how much he wanted you. An otherworldly rage overtook you as you imagined the devil in place of this sinner. In his designer suit, with his slicked back hair and chains that would glitter like stars even in the dim light. The set up made your body act on its own. You were fuelled by your anguish, and each sensation in the present turned into a re-enactment of your inner turmoil that had built up over the time. The guttural shriek, the stinging tears threatening to roll down your cheeks as you shut your eyes and swung with all your might only to meet-

-nothingness. A strong grip of your wrist and a firm chest pressed against your back prevented you from moving. And again, that familiar scent. Your drug. Your demise. The emergency exit door snapped itself shut, suggesting that Seonghwa had only now made it into the alleyway, and an odd sense of calm enveloped you. For the time being, he was the lesser of the many evils.

“Oh, ‘s you! Mar-”

The stinging sound of a gunshot, lulled into an ambient slumber with a silencer. Time slowed, and you swore you could see the bullet soaring through the air, about to collide with the skull of the man whose fate had been sealed. But a blink before you could bear witness to the impact, darkness overtook you, and you were embraced in an overwhelming sweetness, vision sealed with a resolved, mercilessly protective hand. You were spun in a macabre dance, now facing the gangster, breathing against the crook of his neck and focusing on the freezing cold jewellery that caressed your cheek. Nothing more than a sigh, a tainted soul escaping from the mouth of the drunkard, before you heard a thud of his body colliding with the cold concrete. 

You sincerely wished you could feel remorse, but all that you could identify in your body was an insatiable curiosity, and a perplexing connection of the societally horrific event with what had happened to your ex. So, that was how he had been disposed of, huh. The same damn signature. And he was most likely lying when he was trying to assure you that it was not the same man. His hand was too stable, heart was too calm, and the way in which he pressed his soft lips to your jaw, and once your sight was returned to you, your cheek, were all telltale signs that this was not the first time he had killed with you as his prime motivation.

“You’re awfully calm for someone who was ready to murder, darling.”

The words rang out in your head and the realisation hit you, cutting through the comforting fog that had settled over your psyche as you drifted in black irises. The bottle which you had picked out of the trash to serve as your weapon suddenly felt unimaginably heavy, and it began to slip.

“Now, now, we don’t need to cause any more of a mess…” gingerly, the bottle was taken from you, and clinked against the smoking gun as Seonghwa was more preoccupied with keeping your full attention on him. While you were still tame enough for him to manoeuvre, He returned the weapon under his jacket.

Dizzy, you swore you were within inches of delirium. Darting from one one part of his face to another, you soon spotted a tiny splatter of blood on his cheek, and lifted a trembling hand to caress it. Eyes wide, you watched as the crimson spread under your thumb and left a trail whilst you were wiping it away. Lips parted, you were locked in a soundless scream. This was not a joke. That man, no longer a man, a soon to be carcass, crow food, was dead. And without a doubt, Seonghwa was going to tell you that it was your doing. Turning slowly, you caught a glimpse of the aftermath, and the dark dots that now decorated Seonghwa’s side that had been the closest to the drunkard.

“Look at me, darling. Look at me.”

“But I, but he-”

“I said. Look at me.”

“But you kill-”

A crash resonated as Seonghwa threw the bottle against the opposite wall, the olive-coloured rainfall covering the dead body and rippling over the dumpsters. Knees buckling, you wanted to collapse next to it then and there, only to have a gloved hand force your face to be right against his.

“You are a lethal flower, darling. Shame this had to happen.”

“Shame?”

“You’re shaking. Did this man touch you?” with a concerned air, Seonghwa inquired, his breath hot against your skin. Discreetly, he began to step towards the exit of the alleyway.

“N-no… but-”

“Did he scare you?”

“Y-yes… a lot.”

“For fucks sake, these idiots have no self control, hurting my precious angel like this.”

Precious angel. You were his precious angel. So he did care, at least somewhat. You had a space, a chance to corrupt what was left of his heart. Your forehead was against his as you allowed him to guide you out of the cramped space, careful to sidestep when he told you, lifting one leg, the other when he whispered that you should do so. This felt right. He was back. He was here. He was ready to do anything for you. This was where you wanted him. While you were busy processing what had just unfolded and fading into your beloved manifestations, Seonghwa pulled you into an embrace and began to direct two of his men who had snuck in through the emergency exit and were awaiting instructions. After a couple of raises of the eyebrow, and one point towards the bag which you had abandoned, they began to tiptoe around the area, ready for a rapid spring cleaning.

Wherever he was taking you, you had no choice but to follow. Such was the rule. Even if you had other ideas and plans, now that Seonghwa was back, you had to fall into his rhythm, and figure out a new strategy that would not cause a dissonance. Your clouded mind was lulled by his low instruction. Slow down here, now heading out onto the street there… you were a puppet in his hold. You were… a criminal. Weren’t you? You froze just as the two of you approached a parked car, and judging by Seonghwa’s immediate instinct to reach into his pocket, you assumed it was his. No, you couldn’t. This was… you needed to go home. Conflicted, the hold you had on Seonghwa’s jacket loosened.

“Darling?”

“I… I need to go home.” his soft smile fell, replaced with a judgemental grimace. Retaining a fraction of decency, he refrained from shoving you against the vehicle, instead choosing to subject you to scrutiny.

“You are home.”

“Here?” you surveyed your surroundings, figuring out that you were outside Estelle, and luckily, there were no longer any stragglers who regularly tried to make it through into the venue past doors closing. The street was ghastly, located in one of the most dangerous parts of the metropolis housing anything from cheap alcohol and sex to designer drugs and assassins. Anything one could desire, they could find here. Was this really your home?

“Yes. With me.” Seonghwa was reeling you back. A click, and the car was unlocked. Keeping you within reach, he leaned to open the passenger door. You shook your head.

“No… no… I don’t want to be a-”

“Don’t want to be a what?” he insisted, and squeezed your upper arms, as if he was about to shake the answer out.

“A criminal.”

“The fuck?” 

“I am… look… I was… Again I was so ready to-” the man who was probably still in that alleyway, blood spilling like wine out of a glass that toppled over, occupied your vision, and you gawped at the bloodstain on Seonghwa’s cheek. 

“But you didn’t. You did not kill him.” Sighing, he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, not wishing to deal with a breakdown, far too attracted to you physically to care for what effect his expression of affection had.

“But I made you…”

“Oh baby, no you didn’t. I did it out of love for you. You had no part in this except being my angel. Darling, Y/N, come on…” picking his words carefully, he permeated your barriers, crawling into the expanse of your mind palace like a virus.

“I am no angel. The law literally says I committed crimes. I should not be here. I should never be here-”

Evidently this caring approach was not functional. You were simply melting into him and turning into a sappy mess, instead of the coldhearted bitch who he had spoken to in the club. Where were you? Where was the goddess who wanted nothing more but to hurt him? He had deconstructed you a little too much, it seemed, you needed a bit more venom in your system. Seonghwa snapped.

“You know what. You are right.”

“Huh?” still too dazed to answer properly, you hummed.

“Who do you think got you out of a jail sentence in the first place, huh?”

“I- I don’t… What?” eyes narrowing, Seonghwa peered into your soul. He needed you to wake up if he was going to give into his obsession.

“Talk to me. Take a guess. Do you really think that the judge was benevolent? Fuck… girl, you’re naive. That bastard passes his bank account around the courtroom, you really think he woke up one day and felt like being nice just because? Oh no… sweetheart. I got you out. You hear me? I did. Because like hell are you gonna be anybody else’s. Huh, you tried your best with that idiot rotting in the ground. Bet you screamed my name as he fucked you, right? Tell me, is that right? SPEAK, sweetheart, don’t piss me off.”

Noticing how you could not contain your tremors, he released his grip on your upper arms, only to position your hands so that they rested on his waist, while his cupped your face. What was supposed to be an intimate gesture felt like a stare down with a wild beast. His expression was that of a predator, pupils dilated so he could refresh the memories of every piece of you, while his lips curled into what you interpreted as a crooked, pitying smile.

If you did not know better, you would have believed that your love that was reflected in his dark orbs was actually his. But he was a twisted, terrifying man, who could only take. As such, most you could expect was his suffocating coddling, his treatment of you like you were of his design. His cooing as he peered at you and saw how you were putty under his touch. You hated him precisely because you knew you could never escape.

“Oh baby… my lovely little angel, look at you. Don’t you know that I would do anything to make you smile? Come on, you know that right?” he wiped a stray tear with his right hand, and you swore you caught a quiff of blood and gunpowder, blending with a hint of alcohol that was still on his breath from earlier, all to be washed away by that scent you always adored, vanilla, flowers, coffee. Seonghwa. You nodded, which seemed to provide relief for the man.

“And I will never let your pretty hands get dirty, okay? If you need somebody dead just say it my darling and I will do it. Me. You are my angel. And now, let me prove it to you, alright?”

Whatever noise had existed before was now but a soft buzz of a streetlamp. No rustling. Not a single droplet. Suspended in an intimate fog, you studied the criminal, the hardened killer, the bloodthirsty demon in front of you. The one who was so hellbent on getting you to follow him to the realm below, even though you had never left. It was simple. He led, you followed. He told you to jump, you jumped. That was all he wished for. And perhaps this was indeed your fate. Not to be rushing around in hospital corridors, nor to be collecting banknotes in a g-string. But to completely fall from grace for the embodiment of an apocalypse, who more than willingly closed the space between you to taste the lust you had been suppressing, relishing your shared sin.

Bang bang, that awful sound…

The wind styled your locks as Seonghwa sped deeper into the night, abandoning the artificial lighting of the underworld district. From bars and clubs, to sleepy neighbourhoods, and finally, the inspiring expanse of rolling hills and rocky slopes, he was taking you to a place where you would never be bothered nor controlled, yet one that gave you a view of the city that was so breathtaking, that it was easy to believe you could destroy it. Estelle would be smaller than ever, and your problems would be nothing more than a haze on the line of the horizon. The cliffside had been your spot when you were something of an item, with you always begging for Seonghwa to take you there, if not for the alone time, then at least for the striking skyline. How oddly romantic of him to pick the spot now.

Relaxing into the leather seat of the Rolls Royce convertible, a new addition to Seonghwa’s collection - as he had informed before starting the car, you tested the strength of the breeze by stretching your hand out of the window and letting it float. After a couple of tries, you finally got into the right pose for minimal resistance, and pretended that you were a bird, soaring, cageless. The glimmering dots of the city even further from you than now as you spread your little wings and lifted yourself towards freedom. In moments like these, you were happy to be able to enjoy the simplicities, and it was easier than ever to pretend that you were not the Y/N who had fallen so irreversibly for a beast, that to you even his lies sounded like the truth. And, of course, it was easy to imagine that Seonghwa himself was capable of feeling love.

He did not bother taking off his gloves nor, which was uncharacteristic of him, clearing the remnants of the execution off his face, as if it was a badge of honour. Interestingly, the more you observed the gangster, the more you got used to the new additions and even took them as complementing features. While he kept one hand on the steering wheel, he continuously seeked contact with you, the other gripping your thigh as if to make sure that you were still there in the car with him and were not a hallucination. The exhilarating velocity at which the car dashed past trees, somnolent villas and road signs was barely letting you catch your breath due to Seonghwa choosing to keep the roof off, and so to stabilise yourself you returned the gesture. The smirk into which his lips curled was not quite as threatening as it had appeared before, however his aggressive slam on the accelerator made you start praying. What would the family that had not yet disowned you think, if they were to find you in a crashed car with one of the most notorious men in the region? You chuckled; they would probably agree that at least the last thing you saw was beauty himself.

Finally, you approached the secluded location, and fortunately, it was as abandoned as ever. Grinding to a halt on a gravelly clearing, beyond which were two lines of wooden fences that had been set up at the very edge of the small cliff, Seonghwa set the car into parking, cranked the handbrake and turned off the ignition. A deafening silence overtook you as you looked up at the night sky, twinkling stars reminding you of the collection of silver that hung around the enigmatic fiend’s neck and on his left ear. In the absence of machinery, you could feel his presence even more acutely, and the anticipation for what he undoubtedly had planned was reducing the supposed coolness of the hour into a mere deception. Your body was burning up, and as Seonghwa’s hand moved higher and higher until it was teasing you by playing with the drawstrings of your tracksuit bottoms you had to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

You stared out at the metropolis through the windshield, registering your beloved criminal’s movements towards you. As you studied the glinting whites, reds and yellows that formed the urban starscape, you could not help but ponder how, out of all the millions of people, in this architectural phenomenon that seemed to stretch on forever, on a day when you were not even supposed to be where you had ended up being, you had run into none other than Park Seonghwa. And as fate would have it, you were naive enough to let him take everything from you. And being the loved up, hypnotised fool that you were, you thanked him for the misery in which you found yourself, because at least he made you feel. With him you were a disaster, but you saw life in colour. With him it was impossible to tell whether there would be a tomorrow, but you could exist in an exuberant today. With him, the everchanging palette of emotion had a canvas to paint on. And tonight, you were going to let the masterpiece create itself.

“Take the gloves off if you want to touch me so badly.” you derided him for his eagerness, though did not see any dampening to it. On the contrary, he appeared to be more drawn to you than ever, mumbling a ‘sure thing, darling’ as he unbuttoned the leather, and slid the pair off his hands with his canines to speed up the process. The gloves found a home in the compartment underneath the wheel, to join the harness and pistol that he had stashed away there.

“Good?” he asked, giving you a mischievous grin.

“Good.” no more words were needed for him to pull you towards him, and lock your lips together in a feverish, thrilling kiss.

Oh, how you missed this. How you missed the mind-numbing sensation of his hand on the back of your neck, how soft his lips were compared to his sharp and intimidatingly stunning appearance. You moved in a familiar rhythm, having recognised one another’s alluring presence and only wanting more with each passing second. Frustrated with the remaining distance, Seonghwa growled into you and dragged you by your top; understanding his goal, you rose from your seat and promptly were settled on his lap, grinding against his growing erection that was concealed by too many layers of clothing for your liking.

Brushing his hair back, lightly tugging on it as you reached the ends, you were giving yourself up to the scalding hot hellfire. Your memory did not fail you: the action elicited a groan, and the kiss was further deepened until your lungs were screaming for oxygen. Pulling away, you gasped, only to be alerted by a stinging pain on your cheek, and a hostile grimace on the man, whose hand was hovering next to your jawline.

“Did I say you could pull away?”

“And since when are you so damn needy?” You challenged, slapping away the hand that had just collided with you, and placing yours on his exposed throat, not bothering to ease into the action as you pushed your digits into the sensitive skin, restricting his airflow and preventing him from taunting you with a mocking retort.

You continued to rock your hips forward, sensing your own arousal climbing further and further amidst the enjoyment of the man’s temporary obedience. You watched his eyes roll back momentarily, and he attempted to tilt his head towards you and steal your lips, only for you to wriggle in his lap until you were completely out of his reach, still holding his neck.

Seonghwa was seeing stars, and yet amongst them you still shined the brightest. There you were. This was who he was searching for. When he was at his limit, and could no longer withstand the restraint, he rapidly reached for your wrist and yanked your arm away, making you yelp. To prevent you from attempting anything similar, he used his hands as cuffs to keep you under his control, and pulled you to him. Giving you a smirk corrupted by lust, he kissed you again, only this time letting his long tongue part your mouth, and swirl itself around.

Wanton sounds filled your mind and preoccupied your ears as you parted, strings of saliva connecting you. Apparently dissatisfied, Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, and gripped your waist. Sitting up, he mumbled ‘back seat’ and stumbled out of the car with you wrapped around him. In seconds, you were lying on the couch-like leather, Seonghwa above you as he shifted his attention to your neck, leaving trails of spit, and nipping at the skin until he saw the beloved bruising begin to show. Sucking above the jugular vein, he imagined himself tearing you apart then and there. Destroying you. But the way in which your hands swiftly moved to unbutton his shirt was too enticing to not commend.

“Look who is needy now.” he teased, and reached for the zipper on your hoodie, unable to contain a pleased sigh as he saw that you had not changed out of the white dancewear. As soon as the hoodie was off, and flying in the direction of the steering wheel, he let himself devour the tainted goddess that you were.

Trailing over the fabric, he did not wish to take it off, the image of you around the pole still fresh in his mind and amplifying his lust. His lips made contact with your chest as he added more love bites to his abstract design.

“You drove me crazy earlier tonight with those moves of yours. How could you even consider anything else when you have a body made to sin?”

“I think you are batshit by default.”

“Do you want me to punish you again?” he threatened, discontented when it had no effect on you as you contended. 

“By what, hitting me? Two can play that game-” as soon as he saw your hand flying towards him, he caught it and forced it down by you, and chuckled.

“Be a good girl and you’ll come.”

“Big deal.”

“Says the whore who was grinding against me.”

He shifted to untie your sweats, and dragged the material down to reveal your matching white g-string, stopping for a second before moving to take it off too. The bra was going to be enough for him.

“Says the reprobate with a hardon from the bare minimum.”

He did not respond, too enraptured by the sight before him. Your form, laid out and so familiar, and yet, the newfound resolve and the bite in your words was boundlessly more attractive than the mellow nurse in training that he had fucked before. The blaze that had festered and grown within you, painting your psyche and very essence in the soot of detestation was a guiding light to him, a star in the pitch black that he gravitated towards, and wished to take over. Your strength and determination spurred him on and inspired him to make you reach the point of no return. How? He was yet to decide. But that came after he had his fill of your intoxicating body.

“Damn, Y/N, do I even need to get you ready for me? You’re so fucking wet-” he remarked, running a hand over your pussy, with it immediately receiving a dose of your slick.

“Guess you don’t.” you countered, attempting to shut your legs together, but to no avail as your brattiness only encouraged him.

“You know what. I am in a giving mood. A changed man. Ready to commit some good deeds.” he announced to you in a low, borderline monstrous tone as Seonghwa pulled you by your ankles closer to him and began to work at your arousal.

After a slow start, where he languidly circled your nub until you gave out a whine, the man dedicated himself wholly, and soon enough, you were sinking into a sensual paradise. The two digits pumped into you, while with his other hand Seonghwa was stimulating your sensitive clit relentlessly, rubbing the erect nub until you were barely able to produce any sound at all. Pressing his thumb right against its tip, he curled his fingers and beckoned you closer to a climax, stopping the motions, he kept his hand inside as he replaced the finger that was dominating your clit with another thumb, and instead took to rapidly building you up with practised, fast flicks, higher, higher, just as you were about to-

Your hips jerked up, only to be met with a total emptiness as you tried desperately to coax Seonghwa into giving you your orgasm, to which he only responded with a click of his tongue, and a demonstrative sucking of his digits as you watched him with a glazed over expression.

“You rude, unbearable menace.”

“Awh, is my precious angel angry that I did not give you what you wanted?” he asked, giving his cock a couple of pumps before making a circular motion with his index finger and ordering you.

“On your hands and knees, like the bitch you are.” immediately, you obliged, unable to contain yourself after he had denied you what you had been seeking, with that devilish grin suggesting just how much the notion had excited him. Finally, he undid his belt and trousers, letting his aching length spring free, a hiss escaping Seonghwa as the cool air hit it.

Finding your slick-coated pussy with the tip of his cock, he teased you, repeatedly moving it back and forth between your folds. When you let out a whine, rocking your ass side to side in an attempt to deliver your need for more friction, Seonghwa merely chuckled and pushed forward, keeping his member flush against your sex, but not offering any relief. Your wetness coated him as he continued the torturous act, pausing to flick your clit and snicker at just how desperate you had become for his dick.

“Tell me if you want it.” Seonghwa wanted to hear you beg, or sigh, or anything else to suggest that you were fully pliable, but what had come out of your dirty mouth surpassed all his wishes.

“You want this pussy more than I want you, judging by how fucking hard your cock is, Hwa.”

Without as much as a warning, he put an end to the foreplay and slammed his hips against yours, sinking deep inside and groaning at the warm invitation of your walls. As he heard you yell out, he mercilessly glided back until only his tip was between your labia, only to thrust and bottom out once more. And again. And again. Just as he had remembered from the nights he had you before, this left you trembling, and soon enough your body was pleading for more, to which he happily obliged, smacking you on the ass and speeding up.

The feeling of you spasming around him and the feeble moans were an unrivalled art. He positioned one hand to hook around you and held it against the area right below your belly, biting his lip as he felt his dick pushing deep inside you, the bulge detectable by his palm. Closing his eyes, Seonghwa focused on this sensation, thereby slowing down ever so slightly, and moving to hit the spot that accelerated the growth of the knot in your tightening core. 

“A-ah… Seong… hwa…” you mewled into each stroke, hazy and unable to form anything more than nonsensical babble.

“That’s right, darling, only I can make you feel this good.”

Seonghwa was despicable, because he knew exactly how to make you lose your mind and fall apart under him and forget that you ever hated him at all, driven only by a carnal passion. Having had enough practice to study you, you were at his mercy as he provided the exact fullness that you had been desiring for so long, the exact firm thrusts that were bringing you closer and closer to a total fall, and the honey-laden voice that had you turning even weaker.

“My- darling-”

Your climax came down on you hard and fast, and you crumbled into the shaking that washed over you, forehead almost connecting with the back of the seats if not for the fistful of your tresses that Seonghwa had grabbed. Not letting you ride out your high, he quickened his pace and each thrust was making your vision darken and your moans turn into pathetic wails, drowned out by the lewd slapping of skin against skin that was lubricated by your orgasm. Using you as a fucktoy, he chased his own high and pushed you into an abyss of violent pleasure, ceasing to abuse your cunt only when he deemed it necessary for himself.

He slid his cock out of your pulsating sex, dragging it over your clit before ushering you to kneel before him. Movements still too slow and lagging, Seonghwa proceeded to guide one leg, then another down, so that you were ready for him. Lifting your chin, he he peered into your hazy orbs and commanded:

“Open.”

As you slackened your jaw and opened your mouth wide in obedience, he spat into it, and upon positioning one of his hands at the back of your head and the other at the base of his member, he slid into the warmth, sighing as your tongue glided along his throbbing length, as if encouraging him to go deeper until his tip hit the very limit and bumped against the back of your throat. You struggled to suppress your gag reflex, but the salaciousness of the combination of yours and his spit and your orgasm dribbling around his cock as you began to bob your head was driving Seonghwa to the brink of insanity, and you desperately wanted to see him unravel entirely.

“Ah… that’s it. My good cock slut. This mouth is built… for me.”

You allowed him to choke you as he fucked your throat with abandon, submitting to the oncoming waves of his orgasm. Clawing at his thighs you seeked balance, to which he responded by pushing you even closer, earning a muted yelp. The vibration drove him over the edge as he pumped himself inside you only a few more times, before collapsing into a series of staggered bucks of the hips and a muttering of filthy curses.

“Swallow darling, I bet you were dreaming of this- ah, fuck-” he exclaimed. 

He threw his head back as you centred yourself, trying to relax into how his hand that was tangled in your hair kept you so close that your nose was pressed against his pubic bone, though it proved to be an impossible challenge. In an effort to overcome the pain that spread over your jaw as Seonghwa refused to let go of you, you blinked away the moisture in your eyes and focused on the sensation of the hot, salty cum coating and running down the back of your throat. 

When he finally released you from his hold and let you fall onto the floor of the car, you sputtered and gasped for air, vision having grown blurry. While he did not comfort you, nor praise you for how well you had taken him, even though judging from his state you could make your own conclusions about the performance, this roughness felt more real, more honest than the intimacy you had shared before. You licked the corners of your mouth, collecting the remnants of his cum and spit, and crawled up onto the leather seating to be met with open arms, a gesture which, in your exhaustion, you accepted.

Captured in a lazy embrace you admired the universe that surrounded you. The dawn was imminent, with some of the more enthusiastic birds already greeting you with their songs and the distant rumble of the city beginning to pick up, and yet none of this felt real. It was like you were floating in the air, tethered to the mortal realm only by the man beside you. You had taken the liberty of snatching Seonghwa’s suit jacket, considering that the outerwear you had been wearing had been unceremoniously discarded and thrown into the driver leg space, outside of your immediate reach. 

You pondered what was going to happen after this broken reunion, that had been as always, orchestrated by the evil mastermind with a pretty face, currently resting on the seats, one arm over the door, the other on the back rest, head tilted to the sky. When you inspected one of the dark spots on the right sleeve of the jacket, you had come to realise that the dead man, who you had left behind to chase your pleasure, had, amidst his departure from the living, was trying to greet Seonghwa. Using his gang name, no less. You wanted to laugh until tears would be streaming down your face. Double over and, hands hitting your thighs, fail to compose yourself and continue laughing at just how ignorant you were. Fooled once again. Of course that scene had been this criminal’s doing. How else could anything ever happen to you if not with Seonghwa’s meddling? This overly involved, human embodiment of jeopardy who you had voluntarily invited in to share space and time, so elegant as he was devoid of movement, counting stars in the sky, the unbuttoned white shirt gracing his figure like a heavenly robe. It was a shame that you had to have chosen him to glorify, especially since he fit the role well enough to fit into your delusions.

As you sat upright, only to put your elbows on your knees and lean to catch your head in your hands, you mused whether you truly despised this man or not. It was almost habitual, routinely, to curse his name again, and again until it was nothing but an incoherent collection of syllables. It was your shield and clarity, your comprehension of the incorrigible man who, come the opportunity, would shoot you down the same way that he did to hundreds, if not thousands of others. It was heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, but unfortunately true. In his eyes the individuals with families, friends, hopes and dreams, hell, even those with nothing at all, were nothing but sacks of bone and blood that he could scare into submission, or drain if they disobeyed. Such were his methods. Methods that you had looked the other way from, making yourself believe that you were above that amateur, unjust purgatory. No matter how much of you Seonghwa received as an offering, it was never going to be enough. The seven deadly sins were a bucket list for him, and one in which he would outshine every reckless criminal. He was systematic, calculating, and would not hesitate to remove a variable that no longer served him.

You were serene, a ghost of a smile dancing on your lips. Slowly, you blinked, immersing yourself in the sensation of the bites, the kisses that the man you had once felt something for gifted you. Sultry tattoos that you would wear with the pride of a person who had defeated themselves, come to terms with, and learnt to coexist with inner turmoil. Nothing short of a miracle. If this hell were to continue, then you would simply have to adapt to live with the ebbs and flows of a turbulent tide. Hilarious, how you were treating Seonghwa as if he was a terminal disease that you had to live with, but the analogy was comforting. Until the moment when you would receive a bullet between your brows, you would strive to live fully, and remain indifferent. As much as you had wanted to ‘get the final word’, you had come to realise that all you had to say had been said, and he was no longer worth your time. Looking at the horizon, you spotted the sun beginning to stir under its heavy blankets, getting ready to rise.

“You thought about me, didn’t you?” Seonghwa’s voice broke your peace, and you turned to him, regarding his bewitching demeanour with a tired onceover.

“Hm?”

“You were thinking about me, in that alley way. Weren’t you?” so, he had realised now, too. However, you were not bothered to continue this discourse. Fascinating how the mind of even the most evil of men could get fixated on the simple things like a random good-for-nothing becoming a gourmet meal for maggots.

“I am not sure why or how that matters.”

“Would you kindly get the gun for me?” Now that piqued your interest, so you obliged, and reached over the front seats, aware of how your ass was on full display for Seonghwa though he had just seen you in even more lewd tones. After a couple of tries, the hand gun was in your hands, and hooking it by the trigger guard, you tried to pass it to its owner. To your surprise, he refused and you remained standing in your perplexion.

“What are you getting at?”

“You definitely thought about me. As a matter of fact you were thinking about doing this for a long time.” you could not deny that, and thus remained silent, “Remember how I taught you to fire a gun?” the man continued, and you nodded along.

“That I do, but again. Not sure how it applies.” you crossed your arms, the pistol swinging ever so slightly from your index finger.

“Don’t you want to fulfil your dream, darling?” he raised an eyebrow and grinned.

Another game. Another dare. Another attempt at making you feel something when you had no more emotions to spare. You were spent. For the first time since you had first come to be acquainted with Park Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Hwa, Mars, you saw a stranger. A passing face who you would regard, but most importantly, go on your merry way and never wish to see again. No more yearning, nor begging. He was cute when he thought he was in control. You chuckled, earning a questioning gaze from the ghost of your past.

“What is so amusing, my dear Y/N? So delighted that you can barely contain yourself?”

Oh, if only he knew. You steadied your breathing, and through half-lidded eyes, took in the man’s form that you had once worshipped. Everything had finally clicked, and unknowingly, the symphony in your mind was now fully composed, all to Seonghwa’s rhythm. Your magnum opus, by the visitation of a brutal muse, completed. With the softness of a stalking cat, you bent forward and came face to face with this boy, and with both hands, pressed the gun to his bare chest, smiling languidly as it collided with the necklaces to make a noteless tune. Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he followed your ascension back to now leaning against the front seat further from him, stifling a laugh of his own as he realised your intentions. The world held its breath as you dispelled your nightmare, and, light-hearted, like you were discussing daily happenings or the weather, asked him:

“You said you’d keep my hands clean, right?”

“Yes.” breathless, he whispered.

“You said you would kill anyone for me, right?” you continued sweetly, studying how Seonghwa checked the magazine and clicked the hammer with practised motions, appearing almost impressed.

“Yes.”

“Do anything to make me smile?” you tested, and he conceded, brushing a hand over the barrel, and looking up to memorise your every detail.

“Yes.”

“Then prove it. And make me smile. One last time.”

You uttered, admiring how his perfect skin, his gorgeous eyes, his dark soul glowed, caught ablaze in the rays of the rising sun.

Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

#kflixnet #ateezlovenet #k-labels #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x you #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x y/n #park seonghwa x you #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa angst #seonghwa angst #park seonghwa fluff #seonghwa fluff #ateez mafia #ateez mafia au #seonghwa mafia au #ateez #ateez au #ateez smut #seonghwa day

[panelshowsource]

i did a speedrun through backstage with katherine ryan today (i added it to drive!! i'll try to get better rips soon) — and what an interesting concept! personally i never get tired of the half-scripted reality thang à la meet the richardsons, and one of my favourite things ever is comics just...hanging out... the natural bantz are the best! so her bringing these people all together and seeing/hearing a little of their processes backstage, and them just generally catching up and hyping up each other's work, was super sweet! take a shot every time someone went "you smashed it mate" awww overall cute show!

random thoughts while watching

jimmy and katherine's friendship is really sweet and probably always will be, and it's sweet how much all the other comics seem to really admire him (everyone always being like "jimmy you're so lovely irl and i bet you don't even want people to know!! but i know how lovely you are!! you can fool them but you can't fool me haha!!" even tho no one is being fooled we literally all know how nice jimmy is)

the way they used those insert shots of frankie boyle going down on a croissant... i should not have found that as funny as i did

judi and ivo are fucking hilarious together and remind me a lot of alan and romesh — unhinged + hanging-on-by-a-thread is an amazing combo. she really brings out a sunshiney side of him

katherine refusing to properly roast sara and jo <3

geoff norcott being like "i've been at a gay club with tom allen and he's a top" like no other context whatsoever?? like?? wtf is the story there, right-wing lowkey douche with tom at the club????? i need to hear more about this

michelle de swarte most beautiful woman alive......... i remember watching the duchess wanting katherine to end up with her lol

rosie jones is SUUUCH A MENACE LMAOOO and the fact she uses her free time trying to get her friends cancelled by pretending they pushed her down LMAOOO (as nish said, "[cackle] one of the worst human beings who has ever lived") she is HYSTERICAL

over the past five years i have seen joel dommett lactate more than i have seen my own parents

watching katherine, jimmy, sue perkins, nish, and judi together made me think...like...fuck...this would have been an amazing taskmaster lineup fr. they are all such ridiculous humans

rosie hitting on sue is so valid

JIMMY JUST GETTING HIS FEET OUT?? ("jimmy this is gonna go STRAIGHT on wikifeet!" nish PLEASE) and honestly judi kinda flirting with jimmy "you are so trim" "you are so strong" "you have nice feet" ?? lmfao judi girl ur killing me

#p

[vadertyrannus]

Zendaya's MJ will definitely return in the second MCU Spider-Man Trilogy

Ever since the ending of Spider-Man: No Way Home, people have wondered whether MJ (played by Zendaya) will return in the next trilogy, and for those who know she will, whether she should.

I'm making this post to not only prove that yes, she will, but also debunk common arguments against her returning.

Foreshadowing in the movie

MJ's return is directly foreshadowed quite a few times in No Way Home.

"If you don’t, I’m just gonna figure it out. I’ve done it before, I can do it again."

MJ tells Peter she loves him. Then Peter is about to tell her he loves her too, but MJ interrupts him, telling him to wait until he sees her again. If this was the end of their arc, the writers wouldn't leave this thread open. You can't set up something and have no payoff.

The way MJ looks at and acts around Peter in the pastry shop scene. She has that same look in her eyes that she always has when she looks at Peter (probably a symptom of Zendaya loving Tom Holland in real life, but still). The way she smiles, brushes her hair, is nervous around him while at the same time open (being willing to talk about going to MIT) seems to indicate that MJ is naturally comfortable with him and maybe even has a crush on him.

And finally, right here, which is by far the most obvious example and the nail in the coffin.

The final shot of the scene is MJ having a lingering sense of recognition, and this is specifically pointed out in the script. Very, very blatant foreshadowing. So much so that I find it so weird that so many people seem to miss it.

It's as she said, "If you don't, I'm just gonna figure it out."

If this was her final scene, this scene would have much more finality. It wouldn’t end holding on MJ, but rather Peter leaving. This is basic cinematic language.

The final shot of a scene is always the most important, because it’s the last impression it leaves on you. And here, they chose to emphasize MJ recognizing Peter the most.

All of this is clear set up for MJ remembering Peter and the two eventually rekindling their relationship.

MJ is Peter's true love

The fact is, MJ needs to come back. It's inevitable. Expecting MJ to actually be gone is like expecting Spider-Man to have stayed dead after Infinity War.

It's very clear watching both Far From Home and No Way Home, both of which focus a lot on their relationship, that Michelle Jones is Peter Parker’s endgame love interest and an incredibly important character to this iteration of Spider-Man.

I plan on making a separate post later going into more detail, but it's important enough to shortly elaborate on here.

Peter and MJ are truly in love with each other and meant to be together. They’re perfect for one another, have amazing chemistry, love each other to no bounds, and support each other every step of the way.

Peter always puts MJ's well-being before his own, and MJ is so loyal she'll bring a mace to help Peter fight killer drones, and refuses to leave his side when facing 5 villains. And I mean she literally won't leave his side; like, she wants to be right there with him, even when it's that dangerous, because she's that brave and she cares about him that much.

Peter and MJ are alike and while also complimenting each other in all the right ways. MJ is as soft, sweet, caring, strong, intelligent and loyal as Peter. At the same time, MJ’s introverted, collected and pragmatic self compliments Peter’s more extroverted, energetic, and idealistic self perfectly, creating a symbiosis between them.

They bring out the best in each other. Because of Peter, MJ is able to come out of her shell and be vulnerable (her arc in Far From Home). And in the same way Peter supports and brings out the best in MJ, MJ encourages and supports Peter when he needs it to most by always being there for him, being level-headed and comforting in crisis situations.

Their kiss in No Way Home perfectly conveys the image of two true lovers, with the way their bodies create a heart shape and the contrast created by the sun in the background.

Peter and MJ are bound together.

Both Far From Home and No Way Home dedicate a lot to the Peter and MJ relationship, and during the promotion of both Far From Home and No Way Home, images of them were used constantly to advertise the movie, reinforcing that Peter and MJ are ultimately the heart and soul of those two movies.

And even though MJ didn't have much screen time in Homecoming, she was emphasized a lot in the promos and almost every scene with her foreshadows her relationship with Peter in some way. Zendaya's MJ is essential to MCU Spider-Man.

Her not returning would also be a disservice to her character. MJ is her own person with her own agency and desires. The MCU Spider-Man movies have been very consistent with portraying that. To just ditch MJ instead of giving her the ending she deserves, to be with the one she loves the most? To disregard what she made Peter promise to do? Terrible writing.

It's also a disservice to Peter's character. Spider-Man is supposed to end up happy. Peter should get to be with the one he loves the most.

Michelle Jones-Watson is the MCU version of Mary Jane Watson

Michelle Jones-Watson is a reimaging of Mary Jane Watson, and the definitive MJ of the MCU. They're not gonna bring in "the real MJ". Zendaya is the real MJ.

I really shouldn't have to go any further then pointing out that her name is literally MJ Watson. But I will.

Again this will be it's own post eventually, but it's still important enough to shortly talk about here.

This reimagining of MJ shares many core elements with her comic book counterpart.

Both are progressive rebellious characters, Mary Jane being a party girl (which in the 60s was considered progressive) while Michelle Jones is a liberal and activist who has unconventional interests (being interested in conspiracy theories and morbid topics).

They both have a troubled past (especially with their fathers).

Michelle's arc is basically the same as Mary Jane from the comics; dropping a façade she created to hide her vulnerable self, opening up her true caring self to Peter.

Both are their version of Peter’s perfect match.

They're both strong-willed and loyal, sticking with Peter no matter what.

There’s also been several easter eggs connecting Michelle to Mary Jane.

Michelle's birthday (revealed on her passport during FFH promo) is the same day the comic Mary Jane first appeared in was released.

In Far From Home, there’s a license plate on the bridge where Peter and Michelle kiss for the first time that reads “TASM 143”. This is a nod to the issue in which Peter kisses Mary Jane for the first time in the comics, The Amazing Spider-Man #143.

She wears two outfits with tigers on them in Far From Home (nod to Mary Jane's famous line).

Zendaya’s blatant “Face it, Tiger…” post while having red hair during the Far From Home press. And all the other times she's dyed her hair red for Spider-Man press, too (she did it again for NWH promo once).

MJ has always been Peter's true love in every Spider-Man iteration. It was true in the comics (before the current terrible writers ruined it). It was true in the Raimi trilogy. It was going to be true in the Webb films (Mary Jane was gonna be introduced in TASM 3). It was true in Into the Spider-Verse. And it's true here too.

MJ is to Spider-Man what Lois Lane is to Superman. You can't have one without the other.

Definitive statements from Executives

In the Deadline article regarding Jon Watts leaving Fantastic Four, on April 29, 2022, this statement was made.

Sony and its Spider-Man producers have made it clear they expect to reunite Watts with Holland and Zendaya to continue the series.

This was the statement that prompted The Direct's article (among others) in which this news spread and more people realized that Zendaya is likely coming back.

This was reinforced in another interview directly with Tom Rothman, head of Sony, less then a month later.

ROTHMAN: We hope to get working on the next Spider-Man movie. DEADLINE: With Jon Watts, Tom Holland and Zendaya returning? ROTHMAN: That whole group, we hope.

This confirms that the studio wants Zendaya to return. They've made up their mind, creatively. At this point, whether Zendaya returns or not is up to her.

It makes sense that the studio wants her back so bad. Zendaya not only has a ton of star power, but it also dating Tom Holland in real life. Her name is gonna get people in seats.

Statements from Actors

If Tom Holland is coming back for another trilogy, Zendaya's coming back too. Statements from Tom Holland also confirm that she was always gonna come back from the beginning.

Tom Holland stated in an interview with GQ on April 15, 2021 (a month after shooting No Way Home) he will not do another movie without Jon Watts, Jake Batalon, and Zendaya.

So he’d say yes? “Absolutely. One hundred per cent, yes.” Any renegotiation clauses? “We’d need to keep the same core team. The director, Jon Watts, is as much Spider-Man as I am. Zendaya, Jacob [Batalon].”

While he might be exaggerating when implying that he would outright refuse if they all also didn't come back, it emphasizes the importance to which he views the director and his co-stars role in the MCU Spider-Man series. Including Zendaya.

A month later, in an interview with Entertainment Weekly, he stated:

“We were all treating No Way Home as the end of a franchise, let's say. I think if we were lucky enough to dive into these characters again, you'd be seeing a very different version. It would no longer be the Homecoming trilogy. We would give it some time and try to build something different and tonally change the films."

Notice how he says these characters. Plural. Not just him, but also the other MCU Spider-Man characters, meaning MJ and Ned (I mean, it's not like it can mean anyone else).

These statements from Holland are pretty consistently pointing to the same narrative, that all three actors would return if they continued the series.

It's unlikely these statements were made to prevent spoilers. Not only because they align with what's been said after NWH's release, but also because they tried to build up suspense about whether MJ would die in trailers and TV spots and these statements wouldn't match up with that agenda. It's obvious that these statements were made without any studio influence.

This is also corroborated by this statement from Zendaya during the press tour:

ZENDAYA: “Well, we have no idea what the future of us or this Spider-Man franchise is or will be […] if there’s a world where we continue and grow with the characters, that would be beautiful [...]" TOM: “Yeah you said that perfectly.”

They’re talking as a pair, as if returning would mean both of them.

I also think the body language and facial expressions of the two reveals a lot about their feelings on the matter.

It looks like the two know more then they're letting on.

You can hear and see Zendaya’s voice and eyes brighten up when she talks about returning. She has a very positive tone.

Tom looks directly at her as she’s talking about returning whereas most of the time he’s looking down at the ground.

Zendaya looks directly at Tom after saying that continuing the series and both of their characters would be beautiful. If she’s looking at her boyfriend, the person she loves most, directly in the eyes as she’s saying it then it’s probably true, that’s just basic psychology.

Another pretty telling quote also comes from Zendaya. After making the Time100 list for 2022, Zendaya in her interview stated about No Way Home:

“The perfect way to, maybe I don’t know end our trilogy, there’s people that are more in charge then I am so I don’t know what the future holds so I’m just saying.”

Notice how she pins the decision on the executives and not herself. As if she's already made up her mind. This was likely recorded before the executive's decision was made (or at least, before she was aware of it); they record these interviews well in advance.

The fact that she says "our trilogy" is also very telling. She clearly misspoke when she said trilogy, because whether they make a 4th movie or not it’d still be the end of the trilogy. Since she immediately started talking about how they might continue, as if correcting herself, she obviously meant to say series or franchise. It’s not just Tom’s Spider-Man series, it’s hers too.

Zendaya has repeatedly stated and shown that she loves doing the Spider-Man movies. Especially since, you know, the lead is her boyfriend. We don't even have to infer this, she literally said working with Tom is one of her favorite things about playing MJ. She even said she wanted a happy ending for Peter and MJ in this interview.

I am certain that Zendaya will sign on for the next MCU Spider-Man trilogy once given the contract, if she hasn't already.

Statements from Leakers

A very reliable leaker known as Ember, who now runs a Twitter page called Cult of Ember (formally Culture Spider), has stated that Zendaya will definitively be returning, meaning that she has officially signed on.

Now, I don't want to put too much stock on leakers. IMO they should always be taken with some level of uncertainty. At the same time, Ember leaked costumes from No Way Home well in advanced (among other things). She's pretty reliable. She's also the one responsible for the leak that Tom Holland has signed a new 6 picture deal.

The leak about Zendaya signing on also seems to line up with the fact that she just finished filming Dune 2 at the time. Perfect timing to be signing a new contract.

Ember had been saying for awhile that the studio wants Zendaya to return, the exact same thing stated by Sony chairman Tom Rothman.

This was also corroborated by another leaker.

Whether you believe the leakers or not is up to you. I wouldn't take their word as gospel. But they are very consistent and it makes a lot of sense, especially considering all the other evidence.

Addressing arguments against her coming back

"It would undo the consequences of No Way Home"

And Avengers: Endgame undid the consequences of Infinity War (as well as Captain America: Civil War). Your point?

Ending their relationship like this would be a disservice to both of their characters. Neither of them deserve this ending. It's too severe. Peter and MJ have earned their happy ending. And you can have consequences as a result of all this while still having Peter and MJ together again, just like how Endgame did it.

There are plenty of consequences of No Way Home that will stick. The death of Aunt May is obviously permanent, as is the loss of all of the Stark Tech.

"It undoes Peter's choice"

Spider-Man 2's ending also undid Peter's choice at the end of Spider-Man (2002). The same choice Peter makes at the end of No Way Home. Your point?

The point of Spider-Man isn't that he always loses everything, the point of Spider-Man is that he's willing to sacrifice things and gets rewarded for it eventually. He always gets the happy ending.

The "I need to keep the one I love away to protect them" trope never sticks with superheroes. They deserve to be happy, and it's also patronizing and takes away agency from the woman.

Peter made a promise to MJ and he did a disservice to her not fulfilling it.

I find it so odd that the some fans are so willing to have Peter undo his choice to protect Mary Jane by leaving her out of his life in the Raimi trilogy, but want so badly for Peter to keep Michelle out of his life for the same reasons here.

I wonder if there's an underlying issue with some fans mindsets that would explain this...

"It's too soon"

The majority of the fanbase agrees she should come back but thinks she shouldn't come back until the 5th or 6th movie. I do respect this opinion as at least it acknowledges that she's obviously coming back, but at the same time, I can't say I agree entirely.

Like yeah, obviously they shouldn’t get back together within the first 20 minutes of the 4th movie, but at the end? Absolutely.

What other arc is Peter gonna have in the 4th movie other then learning to open up again? Making new friends and having a new girlfriend and putting them at risk is a shitty thing to do when you ditched the ones you had and didn't fulfill a promise you made to them to protect them.

I think it's pretty obvious that Peter's arc is gonna be opening up again, and he's gonna tell MJ the truth at the end of the 4th film.

The longer Peter waits to tell MJ the truth, the harder the relationship would be to repair and the more upset MJ would be at him waiting so long. To me, at least, it seems like something that would be way smarter to resolve sooner rather then later.

Either that, or MJ's gonna figure it out herself and she's gonna be like a detective throughout the movie. Still, though, I think she deserves the truth from Peter.

"You're just a delusional Spideychelle/Tomdaya shipper"

Congratulations, you not only didn't address any of my evidence or points, but you also devolved into ad hominem, the worst thing you can do in any argument.

You just admitted defeat. Thanks for letting me win so easily!

I'm not sure if you're aware but insulting me personally doesn't suddenly make all of the proof disappear. Sorry :)

So there it is, definitive proof that MJ's coming back. If you read the entire thing, congratulations and thank you for reading. And MCU Peter and MJ FTW!

#spiderman #peter parker #michelle jones #michelle jones watson #spidey #petermj #spideychelle #peter x mj #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #marvel #mcu #marvel movies #spider man #spider man: no way home #spider man 4 #mj #mj watson #zendaya #tom holland #no way home #spiderman nwh #smnwh #Youtube #superhero #movies

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Peter B Parker would like it on record that he didn't know about the Google Doc

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54567781 by Robin07 Peter heard Sandwich Man mutter. “Well that's to go on the Google Doc.” Peter had had enough. And added his own yell to the noise, effectively silencing everyone immediately. “Will someone please tell me what this Google Doc business is all about?” - Yet another really basic Peter Parker goes to Stark Industries for a field trip fic Words: 3839, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Iron Man (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Friend | TonyModestep, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Flash Thompson Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker Additional Tags: Peter Parker's Field Trip to Stark Industries, One Shot, Tony Stark Has A Heart, POV Third Person, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, I'm Bad At Tagging read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/54567781

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark

[subliminalbo]

Veronica was never the vocal type. She preferred to observe from a distance, saving her input for when it was most valuable. But sitting in the conference hall at the Carpenter State student union listening to spoiled rich girls bitch about Madison Wells, she found it difficult to maintain her silence.

Madison and her Alphas had dominated campus gossip for weeks. Her recruiting strategy hadn't just been aggressive, it was effective. Even after pledge season she continued poaching girls from other sororities. When a pair of high ranking Sigma Epsilon girls filed a petition to merge their sorority with the Alphas, an emergency meeting of the Greek Council was called to order.

The presidents and officers of five major sororities showed up:

Epsilon Eta Phi, Carpenter State's oldest active sorority and a popular club for old Romero money and kids with connections. President Amanda Hewitt and Vice President Michelle Norton arrived early and took seats at the head of the table. Though their input had little substance, they were always in attendance for special meetings and demanded to speak first.

Pi Delta Kappa, boasting the strictest academic requirements for membership, had a reputation for housing future congresswomen and CEOs. Presidents Tamika Graham and Antonia Reyna attended with Veronica Kirby, treasurer, joining as a consult. The two co-presidents came prepared with a PowerPoint presentation mapping out the projected gain/loss of each sorority.

Alpha Kappa Psi, an exclusive sorority for female athletes, sent a single representative in Demi Snyder. A member of Carpenter State's conference champion volleyball team, Demi held no leadership position in Alpha Kappa Psi and only came to rehash bad blood.

Sigma Eta Chi was the newest and smallest member of the Greek Council, but the loudest sorority on campus. Labeled a right wing hate group by campus activists, the sorority was founded as Carpenter State's only all-white Greek house. President Sadie Bradford and advisor Marla Hunter attended with a binder full of data about Carpenter State's affirmative action programs.

Beta Phi Alpha, once a thriving sorority under the leadership of President Ana Marino, had been most affected by the rise of Madison Wells and the Alphas. With more members moving into the Alpha house by the week, it was Ana who called the emergency meeting. Vice President Morgan Jones and senior member Taylor Byrne came as support.

None of the campus fraternities sent representatives.

"I was hoping for a better turnout, but this should do," Ana said as she rose from her seat to share some pre-written statement about the Alphas. She was interrupted by Amanda who was unhappy about the lack of vegan options at the meeting.

"You knew that Epsilon House was doing No Milk October and yet you still chose pizza. Just being in the presence of all this cheese is an insult to our veganity."

"We didn't know about your dietary restrictions," Morgan spoke calmly. "If you'd replied to our email—"

"Bullshit, Morgan," Michelle cut in. "Ana subscribes to our newsletter. No Milk October was this month's cover page."

Amanda was nibbling on a slice of pizza now, mumbling through tears. "I'm so upset."

"I hear you," Ana spoke in a measured tone, still standing. "And next time we'll try to be more conscious of your needs. But I want to talk about—"

"Nobody gives a fuuuck," Demi groaned. "I want to talk about Melanie Reyes."

"Jesus Christ," Taylor rolled her eyes. "Are we doing this again?"

"She was ours. You know that we have first shot at the athletes."

"She wasn't interested in pledging with anybody," Taylor said. "She struck you down, we took our shot."

"She didn't 'strike us down,' you approached her before our blessing and it scared her away. Do you have any idea what losing the best softball player in a generation means for our reputation?"

Taylor shrugged. "Almost as bad as a one seed losing in the first round of the playoffs."

"We were conference champions!" Demi shouted. "That's still a successful season!"

"Ana's right," Tamika spoke up next. "The Alphas' unprecedented growth is an existential threat to Greek life on campus. We've never seen anything like this before."

"Thank you," Ana gestured dramatically toward Tamika.

"Madison's proposal to merge with Delta Sigma Epsilon is just the beginning," Antonia continued, clicking through graphs of each sorority's historical growth rate on the projector screen. "She won't stop there. She aims to absorb every sorority on campus."

"Why should we care?" Sadie asked. "I don't think we should reward houses for failing."

"We're not rewarding anybody," Morgan said. "We're protecting our institutions."

"Protecting yourselves," Marla scoffed. "It's not our fault people are turned off by your out-of-control, PC, safe space agenda."

"I'm sorry," Taylor waved her hands. "Isn't your house just a safe space for Nazis?"

"Un-safe!" Sadie shot back. "We are not a 'safe space.' It states it in our charter: 'An un-safe space for conservative sisters who want to live free of censorship, cancellation, and the gay agenda.'"

"—And we're not Nazis." Marla muttered.

"Un-safe space?" Morgan repeated. "That's literally nothing."

"It's a safe space!" Ana cried. "You can't just do a thing and call it a different thing!"

Sadie took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I just feel so threatened right now."

Ana losing her cool was the tipping point. The table erupted now into shouts.

Demi lobbed broad accusations at the Betas' side while Taylor came back with shockingly personal insults. Marla cradled a sobbing Sadie and shouted "Snowflakes!" Michelle and Amanda had begun packing up their bags and were sneaking out with a box of pizza while Antonia tried desperately to steer the conversation back to the Alphas.

And, of course, sitting there silently in the middle of the ruckus was Veronica. The girls jumped at the sound of her stainless steel water bottle clanging against the table like a judge's gavel. She pounded once, twice, three times, until all attention was on her. She stood from her seat, her sisters more surprised as anyone else in the room.

"I'm sorry, y'all, but this is all so fucking stupid," Veronica said.

Tamika gasped, but quickly regained her composure.

"We can argue all day, but there's only one piece of data here that matters to me."

Veronica took the laptop gently from Antonia. She clicked to a page with two sets of data plotted on a line graph. The first line declined steadily across the screen. The second line followed the same trend as the first, but suddenly skyrocketed to the top of the graph near the end.

"This graph tracks the historical average of sorority membership for the last fifty years. The line trending down is all other sororities on campus, while the one trending up is Alpha Delta Theta. It's the only sorority that's growing. And is there any question why?"

"Mind control?" Marla asked to a reception of giggles.

Veronica shook her head. "We can't share a room without going at each other's throats. Yes, Greek life is supposed to be a safe space. It's place for found family. A place to be comforted in our hardest days. And of course, yes, to find really cute boys."

Tamika smiled at that. A lot of the girls around the table had started smiling.

Veronica shook her head with a cute little laugh and continued, "Is it maybe possible that instead of going to war with this year's It house, we work on doing better in our own? Because when I look at Madison, what I see is someone doing serious outreach in the community. She works her ass off, and she's being rewarded for it. Yeah, she's kind of a secret bitch. But I've been to a Greek Council meeting. We're all kind of secret bitches."

Veronica's speech was so persuasive that by the end of the meeting the girls were even discussing inviting the Alphas to the Greek Council. Only Ana and the Betas were left dissatisfied with the outcome, but they found themselves on the outside looking in with Veronica's sudden appeal to good vibes.

"Is it just me," Taylor whispered, leaning in toward Ana. "Or is this all bullshit?"

"It's a fucking set up," Ana growled back, staring down Veronica who was laughing it up at the end of the table with her sisters and the Epsilon Eta Phi girls.

"I think we're on our own now," Morgan said solemnly.

Tamika's piercing laugh caught the attention of everyone at the table.

"At first I was like, 'Whaaaat is she saying?' But I'm really proud of you, Roni," Tamika smiled. "It's exactly what I think we all needed to hear." She shot a glance Ana's way.

"Thank you," Veronica offered a sheepish sort of smile back her way.

The hall emptied out quickly after that with the Pi sisters volunteering to stay behind and clean up. Veronica assured Tamika and Antonia that she could handle the rest and soon she was alone in the conference hall.

When she was certain that her sisters were clear of the door, she pulled out her phone and dialed.

"It's done," Veronica said.

"Successful, I'm assuming?" Madison asked.

"Yes." Veronica's pulse picked up at the sound of Madison's voice. It was suddenly very hot in the student union. Her voice cracked as she spoke again. "The cancellation emails worked. Only the houses we wanted came to the meeting. It was chaos."

"Good," Madison said. Veronica could see Madison's lips moving with her voice. "So the heat's off?"

"Th-they want to invite you into the council."

"Even better. You sound worked up, Roni."

"I'm so fucking hot," Veronica moaned. Her free hand clawed at her breast, her fingers circling the outline of her nipple beneath the fabric of her tight dress. She wanted to tear the dress down its seam. "W-what are you doing to me?" she choked.

"You're an Alpha now, Roni!" Madison laughed. "Being a hungry slut is a requirement."

"I'm a hungry slut..." Veronica echoed. The image of Madison's lips had been replaced by the pink folds of her pussy. Tears streamed down Veronica's cheeks as she pulled the skirt of her dress up, exposing her naked, dripping pussy.

"This isn't right," Veronica gasped, her fingers rolling slowly over her swollen clit. "I need to tell my sisters..."

"Now, Roni," Madison sighed. "Why would you want to do that?"

"It's not right..." Veronica said between soft moans. Her eyes were closed, her tongue slipping out of her mouth. "I'm not right."

This was the problem with the smart ones. They were always fighting their conditioning.

"Listen: Roni," Madison said. Suddenly her voice was all Veronica could hear. "You're exactly what you're supposed to be. A living, breathing, slutty little fuckdoll. You've been that way you're whole life, you just couldn't see it. That feeling between your legs, that aching desire creeping over you, that pleasure beginning to spill over the edge? That's how your body responds to me. It only responds to me."

"Only you..."

"And you live for that feeling, don't you? You live for that reward."

"I do," Veronica's entire body melting at the sound of Madison's voice. "I fucking do..."

"I'm not going to make you do anything, Roni. You can go to your sisters now if you want to or," Madison paused, giving Veronica time to edge closer. She responded with a needy moan, her fingers picking up pace and pressure against her clit. "Or you can cum for me right now. You can't have it both ways, Roni."

Veronica whispered weakly, "Cum..."

"Speak louder, my dear."

"Please let me cum!"

"Cum for me," Madison growled.

"F-fuck!" Veronica's cries echoed beyond the closed doors of the conference room. They would be a whispered rumor in classrooms for the next week.

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my pussy! Fuck my mind!" she screamed as her body tipped over the edge into total sexual release. "Anything! I'll do anything for you, Mistress! Take me, take my sisters! I don't fucking care, I just need to obey!"

"They'll join you in time," Madison laughed. "But for now I need you on that council. When you're cleaned up, come to the house for further education."

"Yes, Mistress Madison," Veronica said through deep breaths.

"Alpha is everything," Madison said.

"There is only Alpha."

Madison's phone slipped absently from her hand and bounced off of the bedroom carpet. Her voice joined a chorus of moans bouncing off of the walls. Surrounding her were the slick, naked bodies of her properly mind-fucked Alpha sisters, partaking in their new evening ritual.

The girls were handpicked nightly by Madison and, between turns buried in their Mistress' pussy, paired off to fuck each other senseless.

It may not have been what Claire Petruzzi envisioned for her sorority when she drafted the house's mission statement that past summer, but down on the carpet grinding on Caroline Bishop's face, she didn't seem to mind. Both were eager to play a role in Madison's new design.

Sinking low into the armchair in the corner, the freshman Carla had her legs spread for upperclassman Gracie. Carla had recently undergone her own education and was taking full advantage of the household perks. Gracie was on her knees before Carla, proudly lapping at the young pledge's pussy. Carla lost track of the orgasms. They wrapped back around until it felt like a permanent state of pleasure. She bent her head back and moaned: "Obey. Serve. Fuck. Alpha."

On the opposite end of the bedroom, Angelica was paired off with another underclassman, Ashley. They were moving slower, but were just as starved for each other's bodies. Ashley had Angelica on her back, her hand exploring Angelica's wet pussy while her lips suckled at her tits.

"Just like that, baby," Angelica whispered. "Show me how well you obey."

And of course, at the center of it all was Madison Wells. She was down on the bed, her favorite Alpha pledge between her legs. But it wasn't just the feeling of Tina's tongue on her clit that made her cum—it was everything. The sex, the satisfied sounds of her conquests, Veronica's mantras repeated over the phone. She could feel the power washing over her as the orgasm hit her and she cried out just like any other Alpha.

The naked bodies of her sisters in twisted ecstasy appeared like dancing shapes through her blurred vision.

"A kingdom," Madison said quietly.

Tina looked up through glassy eyes, her chin dripping sex. "What was that my Mistress?"

"A kingdom," Madison repeated. "I don't want a sorority, or a school, or a campus. I want a kingdom."

#hypnokink #mind control #brainwashed #series: alphas #hypno story #i felt bad that most of this post was goofy sorority drama and i uh i may have overcorrected in the back half

[demonicsoulmates-art]

"I miss you" - David Haydn-Jones #9

I am quite behind on the David Haydn Jones project but that's because the pieces always turn out to be difficult and complex + I am exhausted most of the time and burnt out. Today it was no different, so I decided to sketch while watching a panel from Momento Con. Idk what clicked, but I decided that the drawing would be inspired by one of my drabbles: "I miss you", which you can find on AO3 (link in bio, must have an account to see it). It focuses on Arthur Ketch missing his twin, Alexander, which I headcanon he killed to show his loyalty to the MOL. The thing is being further explored in a one-shot I hope to finish soon :) This is very much vent art. I tried to put feelings down, and there we go.

Materials used were my new Con*Quest Journal (thanks Michelle. You knew I had to inaugurate it with Ketch) and I also finally tried the TongFu Shop markers my sister gifted me for Christmas. Overall I actually like them, but it's the first time using any kind of markers like this for me, so LOL

Details under the cut!

If you like my art, consider leaving me a Ko-fi

I now also have a Redbubble Shop

Other drawings in the project:

David Haydn-Jones #1

David Haydn-Jones #2

David Haydn-Jones #3

David Haydn-Jones #4

David Haydn-Jones #5

David Haydn-Jones #6

David Haydn-Jones #7

David Haydn-Jones #8

#my art #spn fanart #supernatural fanart #fanart #david haydn-jones #arthur ketch #traditional art #traditional sketching #traditional sketch

[crystal-lillies]

Okay okay okay first thoughts on the Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves movie, with my best effort to avoid spoilers this time.

I had a blast watching it. I loved seeing the practical costumes and makeup for the creatures and I loved seeing the different ways spells were interpreted. And I did tear up a few times! Nearly full cried, but definitely got emotional on several points which is almost always a good sign for me.

I did not expect how the story played out the way it did. It was marketed definitely as a GOTG-style movie but Fantasy(tm) which both is and isn't what we got.

The whole thing felt like a campaign, or maybe the first arc of a campaign, but squeezed into a 2 hour and 15 minute movie. That being, it felt like a fast pace mostly because they sped-run the traveling bits with some gorgeous montage shots. Mostly fine by me, but at some points, it definitely felt like the scale of the world and time was off. It's by no means unique to this movie, and definitely not unique to the movies this film is emulating in spirit.

It's got somewhat of an Indiana Jones/Goonies/The Mummy/even OG trilogy Star Wars vibe in that certain logics are hand waved in order to get to the good stuff (tm), but it isn't unforgivable nor a detriment to the enjoyment of the film.

The characters are all very enjoyable, each in their own ways. I wish we spent just a bit more time on each of them, but there's the rub with ensemble films. And truth be told, to no one's surprise, Chris Pine's character Edgin gets the most prominent focus. I was surprised, however, at the focus Hugh Grant's character Forge had, especially compared to Rege Jean Page's Xenk.

Forge is a very charismatic antagonist, who has a lot more to do in the story than I anticipated, and definitely is a delight to watch onscreen. Hugh Grant dips a bit hammy into his performance but it's in a fun way that reminds of a Saturday morning cartoon. Smarmy, not entirely serious, but occasionally shows a hint of the person beneath, good and bad.

I found myself a little disappointed that Xenk got a really interesting focus, with an emotional and engaging background, and then seemed to not get a satisfying conclusion to that focus. He felt like a guest player character, rather than a full time player character, like the others in the group. While it does still tie up in a self-contained story, I'm hoping this movie does well enough to maybe explore into his journeys beyond this one. They did say that he is the Archetypal Hero that doesn't really fit with the rest of the group, so I suppose that was their way of saying he isn't permanent, which is fair. And while watching I definitely felt it, and wondered how he would be past his point and if he would have dragged the story in a different direction than it needed. (Or maybe if he was too much of a higher level than they were to justify keeping him around.) But that still didn't keep me from wanting to see more of his character later down the line.

Justice Smith's Simon has a nice self-esteem arc, and I enjoyed watching his growth through the movie. He also has an interesting backstory that sort of gets played with, but has plenty more room to grow, and I also want to see more of him and his character.

Sophia Lillis' Doric is a lot of fun and strikes me as a Circle of the Moon druid. She gets a small, engaging focus of her own, but in keeping with the pacing and the ensemble directed at Edgin, I find myself wanting more of her as well.

Doric and Simon are paired up, sort of, and I'm not entirely sure if it works since they don't get too much time, but such is the curse of a fast-paced ensemble film. Hell, Casino Royale was barely an ensemble film, if you count the sidekicks and villains, and Bond got a life-and-sequel-movie-altering romance that was built through the whole thing and I didn't feel like the relationship had enough there by the time she was killed at the end of it, so mileage may vary I suppose.

Michelle Rodriguez's character Holga was also a delight to watch. She's not the lowest of Intelligence but she for sure rolled a nat20 on heart. (Yes I'm keeping that.) It may be since I've been watching a lot of the Mighty Nein campaign, but she reminds me a lot of Yasha. And given that this movie was filmed during the pandemic, and the people behind it are huge nerds themselves, it may be very likely they were in part inspired by Yasha when writing Holga. Who could say?

But Holga holds up the party with Chris' Edgin, and they have a great dynamic with each other. Edgin is the bard, and while he doesn't have his own colorful Bigby's Hand, he certainly and deftly weaves the story as his class is wont to do. And I worry for his lute because he swings it around like it's a sword sometimes and every time I think it's going to break.

The writing is fairly tight, fast pacing aside, and there are plenty of laugh-out-loud moments and heartfelt moments. I want to see deleted scenes for this movie because I just want more of this story and these characters. And I feel like some things may have been trimmed that might have bloated a scene or two, but also would have been good to see. Hard to say at this point, but that's the vibe I get.

Overall, this movie is so much fun and worth going to see in theaters, more than once if you can. There is so much love in this story and it is absolutely felt when watching. You can definitely have fun with it if you have no experience with Dungeons and Dragons, if you're only familiar with separate properties like Critical Role or Dimension 20 and not so much the Classic Stuff(tm), or if you're a hardcore fan. There's good content in here for everyone, and it's treated well, and it treats its audience well.

If I were to give it a score as a movie, I would err on the side of 8.5/10. It's far from perfect, but it's a hell of a lot of fun and really well put together. Seeing it with friends/family in an engaged theater I would bump it up to a 9 or a 9.5.

I will be seeing it again, so I am going to reserve any Spoiler/Context-Specific Thoughts for after that time comes, and I will be interested to see how my experience with the movie changes depending on the theater and who I see it with, as I went alone this first time. But I'm very glad I saw it and look forward to seeing it again, and I hope they do get more opportunities to tell more stories in this world and other of the D&D worlds.

Both this cast, and John Francis Daley and Johnathan Goldstein as writer/directors, and all the people who worked on this movie, hit one out of the park and I would be very excited to see what more they could bring.

#flowerspeak #long post #dungeons and dragons honor among thieves #dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d #movie review #reviews #dungeons and dragons movie #dungeons and dragons: honor among thieves

[sarah-sandwich-writes]

Original Fiction

Wildflowers of Deliverance (three-part series)

Red, like my bleeding heart in your hand - 25k (complete--editing) novella prequel (the childhood years) - Follow Nash, his sister Jo, and his best friend Teddy in Deliverance, TN as they take on bullies and grow together, only to be ripped apart before they reach their potential

Blue, like don't forget about me - 60k (complete--editing) queer romance - Twenty years after Nash and Teddy lost touch, they reunite at a funeral and find all of the too-big feelings from childhood are still there, bubbling under the surface

Violet, like these delights - 50k~ (outlining) sequel to Blue - Jo's POV, coming of age in your 30's - Jo gets the freedom she thought she always wanted and finds, it kind of sucks actually

Woolen Hollow - Drafting Percolating - fantasy, magic systems, found family, accidental chosen one; a story about choice, family, and that weird forest kingdom girl who's obsessed with fortune tellers

Hot Air Balloon Town (working title - percolating) - In a small town famous for their hot air balloon museum and annual festival, a young woman decides she's going to break the world record for highest altitude in an open basket. However, the ghost in town is complicating things.

FanFiction

Spideypool (Peter Parker/Wade Wilson)

Paradise (spread out with a butter knife) -- slowburn soulmates au where friendship is magic (or the one where Peter and Wade are literal soulmates but don't realize it for literal years because they're literal idiots)

The Little Barnacle -- Peter panics and botches Wade's proposal by proposing first like the babbling disaster man he is. He also turned out hella aro and this was his choice.

GwenMJ (Gwen Stacy/Michelle Jones)

michelle.mp3 -- Michelle breaks up with Peter and retreats to her grandma's house in the country to lick her wounds and meets Gwen, her insufferable neighbor who also happens to be the drummer and songwriter who upended her perfectly adequate life and is apparently back for more.

Parkner (Peter Parker/Harley Keener)

*deep breath*

Freak Out 'Verse -- It starts with a kidnapping, evolves through a summer romance, and ends with a portal to another dimension, team dynamics, and... shit tits? am i reading this right? ...really? Yeah folks it says shit tits what the fuck

Peaches 'Verse -- It starts with Abbie and Harley. It starts with leaving. It ends with Abbie and Harley and Peter and May. It ends with a room and choosing to stay.

The Distance Between (You and Me) -- Harley struggles to get a grip on his PTSD while his kidnappers are still out there, the board of directors at Stark Industries are looking for any excuse to deny him his future right to inherit the company, and his "bodyguard" drives him up the fucking wall.

For the First Time, Eye to Eye -- Peter and Harley have a lot of shit to work through and Harley's family reunion (while they pretend to be boyfriends of five years rather than workplace rivals), is not the time or place. And yet...

Lemon Boy -- Post-Endgame (sorry) Harley takes in Peter as a roommate to help with expenses while he remodels his deceased uncle's house. Both grieving in their own way, they eventually learn to see the other clearly--through the mask and despite the barriers.

Parkner One-Shots

Heart (in hand) Home (in you) - 2.5k - Harley-centric sick fic

An Insignificant Problem - 1.2k - De-aged!Peter; Fed-up!Harley

Wouldn't Dream of It - 2.3k - Harley-centric alien goo induced trip down memory lane

The Human Kind - 3.7k - Spidey and Laddie play hide and seek :) (mind the tags!)

Undercover? I thought you said under covers... - 3.7k - what it says on the tin ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Peter, no - 3.4k - Peter is an awful outdoorsman. Harley is in love with him.

Rhythm and Blues - 1.3k - Flash POV! He's stuck late at school and sees something he isn't supposed to.

No Need to Rush - 5.3k - It's simple: Harley loves Peter. Yet complicated: Peter loves Harley.

Second Chances for Second Guessers - 3.7k - Peter is a flighty little whimp afraid of falling in love

Pete, I'm Fake Drunk and Wanna Go Home - 2.9k - Peter needs a night off and Harley has a fool-proof plan to make him take one

The Devil is a Hopeless Romantic - 2k - tried to write angst. it's only okay

Completely and utterly devoid of sex appeal - 1.7k - Peter has the hots for Harley when he wears a certain outfit. Unfortunately it's his work uniform. And they work together.

Fake Romance Crap - 3.4k - sure he fake married me an hour ago, but do you think he likes me?

Apeshit - 2.1k - A Freak Out 'Verse one-shot written for the prompt: You know what, maybe they ARE tired of being nice. Maybe they DO wanna go apeshit.

adventures with hair dye and feelings — In Space! - 8.7k - 5 times Harley and Peter don’t kiss +1 time they do (in space!) Written for the combined prompts: 8) every single kiss so far has been a disaster but it's really funny and 46) don't have a one night stand with your coworker on the spaceship

Put in the Work - 54.7k - Rated M - fka the nasa au, now with minimal nasa (sorry). Harley built his whole life around two things: his daughter and his career at NASA. It's nothing but bad luck that he's laid off at the same time Hazel is pushing for independence. To cope, he falls back on his usual stress-relief, hotel sex with a hot stranger, but bad luck arrives in threes and it's definitely bad luck to fall in love with your one-night stand. If only he had a friend to vent to other than his sister, his daughter, and his strange quasi-friendship with Spider-Man via twitter…

Come on, take a joyride - 6.8k - 5 times Harley takes Peter for a ride +1 time Peter takes Harley

Free Pass - 9k - Rated E - a smutty New Year's Eve one-shot that got plot in it somehow...

another time, a difference place (I have loved you before) - ??? - In-progress (I'm posting as I go for once) - Endgame parkner fix it fic. Peter and Harley were together inside the soul stone. Unfortunately, neither of them remember anything and these frequent bouts of deja vu are getting weird.

Coming Up...

Baseball Smut - Rated E - parkner one-shot. Baseball uniforms are sexy, okay?

Your Mom Freaked Out - ??? - An addition to the Freak Out 'Verse that occurs sometime before the final scene of You're Freaking Out's epilogue. Harley gets blasted with temporal rays when Peter and Tony's time machine experiment goes wrong. It's just his luck that he wakes up handcuffed with Officer Benjamin Parker sitting at his bed side...

Not Spider-Man 4: Bring it on Home (working title) - ??? (LONG) - Gen fic (no romantic parkner), Harley-centric, trans ftm!Harley, canon compliant, post NWH - Harley built his own Iron Man armor and he uses it Robin Hood style to keep Rose Hill from blinking out on the map. Abbie thought she was helping by sneaking off to meet with reporter Betty Brandt and her photographer, Peter Parker, to shed some light on the dire situation in small towns like Rose Hill post-blip and the extremes people like her brother go to to keep people fed and healthy. But getting kidnapped is rarely considered helpful.

Spider-Man 4: Bring it on Home - ??? - Peter/Michelle - Sequel to Not SM4: BioH - Michelle POV (maybe with some Peter POV too--i'll decide when I actually get to writing it hah) -- Inspired by the events of Not SM4, Peter sets out to Boston get his friends back. Meanwhile, Michelle is trying to solve the mystery of why she and Ned have gaping holes in their memories. Ned has it worse than she does and has the therapy and medical bills to prove it, which is all the more reason for her to get to the bottom of this before his episodes get any worse. She's positive she could have solved it by now if not for the universe throwing constant distractions in her face--like the cute guy that recently started frequenting the shop where she works. And what the hell is Spider-Man doing outside of New York. One mystery at a time, Em. You'll figure it out. You always do.

We Were Gods (we were kids) - 100k~ - parkner childhood friends to estranged almost lovers to superheroes fighting on opposite sides to reluctant allies to lovers (this is the OG OG Blue like don't forget about me, back to its roots)

#UPDATED: 03/09/2024 #masterpost #writeblr intro #parkner #spideypool #this isn't going to show up anywhere due to the 75 billion links but here we are #finally decided to make one without out a metric fuck ton of images #even tho i worked really hard on those images #and i love them #*sigh*

[ao3feed-petermj]

132nd Street

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/EsrwaUk by thejourneys “Oh,” Jonah said, waving his arm as if Peter was no more than an afterthought. “She’ll need pictures. Action shots, I’d assume. Your forte.” “Wait,” Michelle interrupted, “like, we’d be partners?” Next to her, Parker snorted. “No fucking way.” Jonah glanced between the two of them, clearly annoyed. “Yes,” he groused, “if you’d like me to put it into children’s terms for you. You’d be partners.” “No,” Michelle said, immediately. “Not a chance in hell.” Words: 5431, Chapters: 1/7, Language: English Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Michelle Jones (Marvel), Peter Parker, J. Jonah Jameson, Ned Leeds, Gloria Grant (The Amazing Spider-Man Comics), Robbie Robertson, Betty Brant, Flash Thompson, Hobie Brown Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Betty Brant & Michelle Jones, Gloria Grant (The Amazing Spider-Man Comics) & Peter Parker Additional Tags: the earth 616 one- sorry spider-verse friends, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Journalist!MJ, Kinda, Photographer Peter Parker, Enemies to Lovers, that's too strong tbh, more like, disgruntled co-workers to lovers, Peter's just kinda tired, Tired Peter Parker, Mystery, Personal Growth, Even though it's Scary, Sexual Content, canon is not real for any media type and also is real for all of them hope that helps, Mcu/asm fusion, Identity Reveal read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/EsrwaUk

#spideychelle #PeterMJ #petermjane

[silkscream]

happy 3k love!! can I get a sangria (ik ik I'm a thirsty bitch) with mcu Peter Parker where he's like the complete opposite of his high school self and meets reader? you can go in any direction honestly I don't mind I just love reading the way you put words together 🤰🤰🤰🤰💙

“another round for the ladies over there, y/n.”

you roll your eyes with a smirk. “another one, jim? tell me, has any of them promised you some pussy yet tonight?”

“oi, fuck off,” the man in front of you huffs. “it’s called being a gentleman.”

you scoff, shaking your head, but continue to pour five tequila shots anyway. jim, your thirty-five year old regular, was always unlucky when it came to finding dates, often keeping company with whatever gaggle of sorority girls caught his eye or happened to catch on that he was easily manipulated. you watched every friday night for 1) your own amusement, 2) being nice to jim granted great tips even though you had to deny his many advances, and 3) you needed to make sure the bastard wasn’t actually a creep to any of these young girls.

“whatever you say, james.”

you turn to update his tab when a familiar voice pipes up behind you.

“what kind of mezcal do you have?”

your head whips to the source of the voice. you lock eyes with a pair of familiar brown ones, though you aren’t sure where his face is from. a step closer and the boyishness in his face shows much clearer under the lamplight.

“peter? peter parker?”

“hey,” he chuckles.

“thought you were at MIT or whatever.”

“you know it’s the summer time, right?” he raises a brow. something about his appearance is more refined, hardened compared to the last time you saw him. when you had last seen peter parker, you were both in graduation gowns and you’d watched him walk the stage to take his diploma. he had been holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, cheek to cheek with michelle jones while his aunt may had an arm around his neck. you didn’t have the courage to congratulate him, let alone tell him about your two-year crush, and then he’d vanished before your eyes. seeing him now was like being inside a dream.

“right,” you blink at him, clearing your throat to make an attempt back at professionalism. “oh! uh, we’ve got peloton de la muerte, don amado…”

“i’ll just get a mezcal mule with whatever you prefer,” he interrupts. you nod with a sheepish smile.

you can feel his eyes scanning your body as you make his drink, which has your back straightening like a tree.

“on the house,” you murmur as you set the glass in front of him.

“what? really?”

“it’s not every day you get a midtown alum at your bar,” you shrug, leaning your elbow on the counter. you hope he doesn’t see right through you.

“surprising. i thought you’d see tons considering how many of them stay in manhattan,” peter shrugs.

he’d made you nervous before, back in high school, mostly because he was so unprecedented and you were so timid and stuck in the shadows. meanwhile, peter exuded pure sunlight with his bashfulness, his kindness. it didn’t particularly set in the person in front of you, though. maybe it had been two or three years since graduation, but at the moment, it feels like you’re talking to a new version of the boy you once spent countless decathlon practices with.

“it’s good money, the bartending?” he quips with curiosity as he sips his drink.

“it’s enough for the summer. lots of lonely men need a couple drinks and some female company.”

“better than trying to save the world.”

“what do you mean?”

peter doesn’t answer. he merely flashes you a smile that definitely hides something underneath, but you don’t know him enough to pry. to be fair, you hardly know him at all. you only have the idea of him that you’d made up during your high school years, and even now, you assume that you’ll probably go home and dream of made-up versions of him. his presence is like a test to your psyche at the moment. nothing significant — nothing worth giving your time to ever stayed. you didn’t expect peter to, either.

that is, until he orders more drinks. a mezcal mule, a white wine, a ginger ale mixed with whatever your finger lands on when you close your eyes. it’s a weekday night, so most of your usual patrons have fucked off for the night, leaving you to wipe down the counters and sweep before the clock even hits one.

“gotta kick you out, parker.”

“who, me? where am i supposed to go now?” his voice has a begging tone to it that makes you want to sink into quicksand. or maybe you’re drunk, because the shots he was ordering were for you. he’d slip them towards you, insisting that you needed to loosen up on this tuesday night, and you could never say no to free alcohol. he’d given you a fat tip after all.

“i live a few blocks from here. come with. you can wait there when you figure out a way home,” you giggle, pulling on your corduroy button down over your crop top as you head out the door. as you lock up the bar, peter watcheS you with acute attention — he notices the way your eyes are half-lidded after a few shots, the casual slump of your shoulders, the pixie-like cadence of your voice when you talk about something you’re excited about. he thinks you’re adorable.

__

once you’re able to sit down on the couch in your apartment, peter plops down next to you sloppily. you end up intertwining legs in the most casual way. you don’t even notice, really.

“you’re different than what you used to be, peter parker.”

“how so?” he chuckles.

“scary,” you mumble.

“huh? sorry, i couldn’t hear you,” peter murmurs, grabbing your head from your neck closer to him. you hitch your breath, which lodges itself in his throat when you feel his calloused fingertips. the feeling excites you, has all your neurons firing in your body.

“you’re less nerdy now.”

“i’ve been through a lot,” he purrs into your ear, and no, it’s not like the nerdy peter you once knew at all. it’s the husky voice of someone who knows what he’s doing, someone who’s willing to take what he wants. you hope he does. you hope it’s you.

you take in a breath, looking at the wall in front of you instead of him in an attempt to calm your nerves, but he doesn’t let you. he merely turns your head to plant a kiss on your mouth gently, so delicately as if he’s trying to touch the fluff of a dandelion without all of it floating away. he grins into the kiss when you reciprocate with passion, tongue exploring the inside of his mouth and feeling the taste of mezcal, of lime, of ginger.

when he emerges, his brown eyes are hooded with desire.

“this okay?”

you nod. “you can do whatever you want to me,” you say breathlessly. his cocky smile shows that he’s willing to test that theory.

#asks #spideyspeaches #3k celebration #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #blurb

[trapezequeen]

Hello and welcome to my blog mostly dedicated to Zendaya! Explore below the cut for updates on my current gifset projects and the taglist – feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged!

About Me

I am a twenty one year old worship leader for Life Together Ministry. I am here on tumblr to have fun. You can call me Wesleya/Wes. Feel free to ask me anything. I love getting asks in my inbox!

About My Family’s Ministry!

My family travels around America setting up tents and holding revival services. Our goal is to teach as many souls as possible with the gospel of Jesus Christ in these last days!

If you are interested in finding out more about what we do, here is a link to our website -> www.thisislifetogether.com

About My Current Projects!

Making gifsets and moodboards in my spare time is a super fun hobby of mine! So I have organized a list of my current projects and tags that will help you to see them!

Zendaya as Chani Kynes -> #Chani Kynes gifs

Zendaya Gifs -> #endless Zendaya gifs

KC Undercover Gifs -> #endless KC Cooper

Kelsi Nielsen Gifs -> #kelsi nielsen

Phillip Carlyle/Anne Wheeler Moodboards -> #carwheeler aesthetic

MJ Watson Gifs -> #every Michelle Jones shot

Zac Efron and Zendaya Gifs -> #Zacdaya gifs

The Greatest Showman Gifs -> #greatest showman gifs

About My Taglist!

If you have interest in seeing any of the projects that I have listed above, let me know! I’d love to add you to my tag list! Don’t be afraid to reach out. Like I said before, I love when asks are dropped in my box! Original Taglist Post Link!

About A Few Other Tags!

I don’t draw much but if you are interested in seeing my drawings that I have posted here is the tags that I use. As for the fanfics, my sister and I have collaborated on a Greatest Showman fic that if you are interested in reading, here is how you can find it! Lastly, I like recreating movie hairstyles so if you are curious to see how any of them worked out, I’ll leave that tag below as well.

#trapezequeen’s art

#my fanfics

#movie hairstyles

About My Other Interests!

| Marvel | Star Wars | The Bible | Fanart | Puppies | A Quiet Place 1 & 2 | LOTR/The Hobbit/ROP | POTC | Disney Movies | Cosplay | SG-1 | | AOS | Walt Disney World I The Gaither Vocal Band | Dune | Did I mention I love Zendaya |

#pinned post #about me #Gifsets #phillip carlyle #anne wheeler #the greatest showman #kc undercover #KC cooper #zendaya #Michelle jones #mj Watson #ministry #Kelsi Nielsen #life together ministry #link #signal boost #Wesleya rants

[ddringo]

Marvel Cinematic Universe: Masterlist

One-shots:

May Parker:

With Great Power...

It's okay (You're human)

Iron Dad:

A special gift

You told me to be better

Looking for a friend

Heroes get remembered, but Legends never die

One last surprise

My nightmares are usually about losing you

The future belongs to freedom, not to fear

That's on me

Lost Boy

Drowning beneath the waves

5 things Peter carried in his pockets + 1 thing he probably should have

Aftershock

With the Weight of the World upon his shoulders

Dorm Rooms Of A Life Worth Living

Lungs

Just breathe

Dream it possible

Michelle Jones or Ned Leeds or Mary Jane, centric:

Things are never quite as scary when you’ve got a best friend

We won, we lost- we drown

Bursting out into tears because you can’t take it anymore

Autumn

What is lost is found

Quitting is leading too

Who Marks Your Soul

Sam Wilson:

Going to prison is like dying with your eyes open

The end of your journey

My worst fear

Say your name (Say my name)

Someone Take Me Home

Written in the scars

Ready to Comply

Ultimate Spider-man:

A leader is someone who demonstrates what’s possible

No one can win every battle

Behind The Mask

Autism/Sensory overload:

Shot Down Protocol

Different doesn’t mean wrong

Protocol Overload

Five people who discover Peters autism diagnosis

Miles Morales:

Hero’s dies, his story doesn’t

If you cannot see where you are going (Ask someone who has been there before)

Failure not fatal

Hope is so much stronger than fear

A web of our own mistakes

Morgan Stark:

I didn’t fall, the floor just needed a hug

In an instant

Don’t grow up (It’s a trap)

We are all replaceable

Steve Rogers:

That which consumes your mind, controls your life

Ben Parker:

The dose makes the poison

Hydra:

A hydra spider

#masterlist #iron dad #peter hurt #peter parker #tony stark #michelle jones watson #ned leeds #miles molares #morgan stark #sam wilson #bucky barnes #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #fanfiction #harry osborn

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Weather and Field Trips

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52816708 by inkinmyheartandonthepage “So, to celebrate, you are going on this field trip, and you are going to have fun with Ned and MJ.” Fun is exactly what Peter and Ned (and a reluctant MJ) had spent the week planning for. They knew exactly what rides they wanted to hit and in which order. They had accounted for everything. Except, Peter had forgotten to check the weather forecast for the day. OR Parker Luck strikes again and Peter starts to hibernate on a field trip. Words: 1598, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 241 of We Forgot Peter Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Ned Leeds Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker Whump, Protective Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker Hibernates, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, tony stark is a good person, Tony Stark cares for Peter Parker, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Protective Ned Leeds, Precious Ned Leeds, Worried Ned Leeds, Worried Peter Parker, Worried Tony Stark, Worried Michelle Jones, Good Friend Michelle Jones (Marvel), Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Family Fluff, Friendship, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Complete, Inaccuracies read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52816708

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