#the bitter end web series

[moondirti]

animalic (5)

← chapter four // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 3.4k summary: an unwelcome confrontation warnings: enemies to lovers, violence, blood and injury, mentioned death, fighting, angst, morally questionable characters, miguel o'hara is not nice notes: this chapter caused several headaches and i don't even like the end result, but i can't pick at it forever sooo. enjoy!

While you’ve never been renowned for making the most accurate of assumptions, there are certain patterns you’ve come to expect in order to have survived this long. To never have a glass of orange juice after brushing your teeth, or maintain eye contact while being threatened. That a kilogram of antimatter produces ten billion times the energy of chemical combustion upon annihilation, and that any quantity larger than that should not be contained.

Of such paradigms, you’ve noted only one to be entirely reliable. That a spider-hero would always fight crime, whatever the greater good. 

“Absolutely not.”

You might’ve been mistaken. 

“Those people are in danger, O’Hara.” You strain, trembling against the cough battering your chest. Your diaphragm spasms with every stride he takes, crushed against the curve of his broad shoulder, desperate to make up for lost breath. 

He lets the plea hang, countenance obscured from your view. With the way he carries you now, all that meets your eye is navy – navy, and the bright red geometry stretched over the brawn of his back. The nanotech suit warps to fit every muscle, glinting as they push forward to meet the sun. And it dips, right between his shoulder blades, lining a clear contour of the anatomy he fails to hide. A dosser of intercostal sinew. Tapered laterals, cinched to curve at–

Your core broils uncomfortably, and his grip tightens around your knees, levelling up to the degree of his treatment thus far. After slinging off that rooftop, he’s made sure to keep you particularly close, like the effort could prevent your powers from manifesting. Like you could make it happen. 

(Though, he doesn’t know that you can’t.)

But he’s smarter than that. If nothing else, it serves as a cautionary gesture. A reminder. You’re disarmed – quite literally – the only force between your nose and the sidewalk being the behemoth of a man whose body you’re strewn across. And, if you could control it – transcend the material at any given whim – it would be the extent and end of your efforts. Not with the neon webs binding you, nor your clear lack of skill. 

The wind quivers with the distant sounds of calamity. You’re drawn back to the very real situation at hand. 

“You make for a lousy excuse of a spiderman if your first instinct isn’t to save them!” You raise your voice, hoping to be heard over the sirens that blare towards the destruction. By counting them as they pass – two, four, six – you’re able to assign a severity to it. But it isn’t, won’t be, enough. You’d heard the screeches; primordial, clawing out from beyond the capabilities of an ordinary threat. You’d felt them – seeping into your bones, grating the spongy marrow – until Miguel had gathered enough obduration to reel you in the complete opposite direction.

Speaking of– 

You tilt your head upwards, surveying the street down which he runs. It’s deserted, yet the presence of its civilians is slower to leave, a molasses that slinks towards locked doors. It’s thick with an apathetic acceptance, bordering on resignation – bitter and not unlike your own resting inclinations. You’ve never known an evacuation to happen this fast, especially this far out from the scene; people are stubborn like that, refusing to face what isn’t in front of them. That is to say, they might be used to it.

“You’re not even going the right way, dickhead!” 

Of all things, that makes him stop. 

(Of course it does.)

Your form flops uselessly as he turns to make sense of his surroundings. There’s the sign – 30 St and 7th – which should give any New Yorker an idea, but he doesn’t linger on it. Instead, he shoots a web to wrap around the railway of a fire escape, propelling the both of you onto an accompanying balcony. Swallowing the bile that swells along your throat at the sudden jump, you shoot him an incredulous look, which he chooses to ignore as he drops you to the floor. 

His mask retreats, hair bouncing upon escape from its smothering embrace. For all that he tries to hide his pinched lips, you sense the scepticism emanating off him in waves. 

You take a moment to stew over it, examining him while he calculates the path of your previous chase. From the convenience, to the corner, and into a nearby store lot. Perhaps he hadn’t been paying notice – which you sincerely doubt, considering the efficiency with which he treats everything else. Could he really be unfamiliar with the layout of a city his job is to protect? Or–

It occurs to you steadily, washing up on the fringes of your arrogance; a realisation in pieces.  

Nueva York. 2099. 

A metropolis. Likely one with no grid system. 

Your cackle beckons his attention, severe stare snapping to your grin.

“We’re on Seventh.” You specify.

He cocks his head, nostrils flaring. Warning or question – you have a hard time deciphering the difference. 

“The convenience was on Sixth and Third. You know, third avenue, East of Fifth?” You push it, spurred by your awareness that he, in fact, does not know. 

“¡Ándale pues! What exactly is your point?” 

“We continued down east until you bit me, judging by the way the sun hit the lot upon rising. But now, we’re on Seventh, on the other side of Fifth.”

His jaw clicks, pulsing in irritation. You toe the line of what you can get away with, how long you can drag this out before he decides you’re not worth the trouble. 

“West. You’re heading West, and–” Wriggling, you adjust your posture into one more reflective of your current pride. “If you have any hope of finding that day pass, then you’re gonna need to go back.” 

The bid translates, weighty, bubbling like the arid smoke off nuclear strife. He processes it, understands – you watch as it unfolds in that intimidatingly intelligent glare – yet the circumstance takes a while to establish itself. Even when it does, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of a full blown breakdown. No. His hands just find his hips, chin sloping to the sky.

“No puedo más, no puedo más, no–” 

You probably shouldn’t rub it in any further. 

“Since it’s on our way–” 

"No." He snaps, voice laced with a prickling irritation that sears through his supposed indifference. The heat of it greets you, wiping the simper that had begun stretching your cheeks. “You must think this is some game, and while that might explain the shit you’ve pulled in the past, I have a responsibility. I can’t interfere with their canon.” 

“So, what? You’re just gonna let them die?” 

His expression lifts, brows rising expectantly, like he’s imploring you to shut up without his verbal confirmation. 

Right.

It starts like a taut bowstring, straining as it verges on release. 

On one end, there’s Apollo; drawing his arrow, a god amongst men. The direction with which he aims his weapon can be seen as prophetic – plague was always meant to befall the crowd at his mercy, their fates little more than a thread of mass design. Some call it righteous – epithets dedicated to his name – agreed upon by the same men who claim that rational means right. Some craft sculptures in his visage, this muse of the kouros, likening stone to flesh and deluding the observer that the two can be synonymous. Nietzsche, Bernini. You, yourself, had managed to believe that the muscle rippling below you could be anything but an Athenian tragedy. 

You linger on how startlingly poetic it all is, and the string pulls tighter. You’ve never claimed to be a hero, but you have the instinct, just the same. He, on the other hand, seems entirely dismissive of the urge you assumed would wreck him too. 

(Partially your fault. You know better than to expect the obvious from him – that’s his pattern.) 

As the two of you veer closer to the havoc, the arrow discharges, striking the tension that’s kept you still thus far. When it snaps, it shatters, congealing to form a beset of sounds, sights, fear. Heaving sobs from a limping group of friends – the middle one rapidly losing blood from what you can tell. The pungent clog of burning debris, fed by the ash that lays suspended, mid-air. The painful creak of metal collapsing in on itself, peppered amongst the constant buzz of radio static. Miguel curbs to a stop, hidden in the notch of an alleyway, and uses the cover to reposition you in his carry. You go from slung over his shoulder to laid across his arms – not quite bridal style, but a placement similar enough that he retains a solid hold of you. 

His mask comes back up, concealing the cynicism that had begun to creep up onto you both. You scoff at the unambiguity of the action, the parallel it poses to the reality at hand. He blocks himself to the obvious, the avoidable. 

Glowering, you trace his line of vision to the encompassing wreckage. The street appears hauntingly familiar, thrumming with the hurried echoes of a recent memory. It lacks the colourful components – the vivid signage, the star speckled windows – yet, you recognize it all the same. The very avenue you frantically traversed only hours ago. Your companion, too, begins to grasp the truth, and you find yourself biting your cheek, a twinge of unease settling in as the revelation hits you: that perhaps you had divulged too much, far surpassing the realm of personal gain. 

Yeah, the day pass is here. And you can only hope that he won’t find it.

For now, though, it appears to be the least of your worries. 

A crimson creature prowls along the fringes of the decimated ruins – deliberate, relaxed, like a predator with its teeth already halfway dug in its meal – circling a man clad in a lab coat. Its size is menacing enough; standing at seven feet, with limbs as thick as pipes. Yet, what truly strikes you are the protruding bulges flanking either side of its jaw, and the white, emblematic eyes gazing out from upon its face. 

“Spider-person?” You whisper, not so much looking for clarification as you were putting the possibility out there. Miguel is unwavering, dead-set on waiting the interaction out. 

“Something like that.” He affirms. 

“Y’know, I remember you, doc!” The creature jibes, its inflection nearing maniacal. “You sat on my jury! Yes, yes. Hard to forget a shiner like that.” Laughing, it points to the balding patch atop its victims head. He trembles, bowing in a silent cry. 

“O’Hara–” 

“Wraith.” He warns. 

“Sixty seven years! Not even you look that old, ‘course you don’t understand how damning that sentence was! But you see, I got lucky. Some higher being must’ve taken pity on me, enough to grant me this miracle of a symbiote. Mhm, yeah–” He skips closer to his prey, considering him in the new light. “‘Cause now I can do things like…” A sharp blow echoes. The glassy spear, red as the flesh it extends from, skewers through the doctor’s chest, a spout of blood following through on the other end. “This!”

Miguel’s palm slaps over your mouth, knee supporting the portion of your body he releases whilst angling you away from the scene. You’re thankful for it, despite the overwhelming anger you bear against him. You’ve no trust in the horror that wracks you suddenly, all at once. It launches you back to that convenience, the robbery. How powerless you had been to stop the clerk from dying out, your hoodie fruitlessly wedged to her neck. You’d been spared the grief so far – the blur of the last day tamping to little more than an aching numbness. Yet you should have appreciated that it couldn’t last; guilt is far too familiar a prospect for you to have expected it to let off so soon.

(Your mistake.) 

“Oops. Did that go through your heart? My bad, doc.” It howls, stuck in its own stand-up routine. “You’d been doing your… erm– civil duty, sure.” The loud squelch of gore triggers the imagery for you, regardless of your averted gaze. The limb-turned-spear being pried out from between his ribs, caked in bits of tissue. 

Dead. You could’ve prevented it. 

He could have. 

From behind the veil of unshed tears, you watch as he ponders the risk of retracting his hand. You betray nothing, blinking back the hot dismay from your eyes, and instead meet his regard in cold defiance. Slowly, as though your apparent sensibility means anything, he removes the muzzle. 

You contemplate screaming, to coax the creature from the group of people it has surrounded and make it Miguel's problem to handle.

Then, you remember your rather unsavoury predicament. How prone you are to harm with your limbs locked; you aren’t the best in combat, but you still could’ve stood a chance at survival if it wasn’t for your restraints. 

Your captor reaffirms his grip, tucking you to his figure as he creeps up to a corner. His back remains glued to the brick wall, obscured in shadow. The stance is primed – far from the hesitant sidle he’d adopted before. It isn’t hard to figure out why; you see it too, buried under a pile of trash bags, on the other side of the road. Purple, luminescent. 

The day pass. 

As if on cue – choreographed by a sadistic deity with no favour for anyone involved – you glitch. 

It doesn’t last long, but it’s enough for you to fall to the ground, erupting in a pained groan. The creature twists to lay its terror on your curled frame, shaded by a man who – despite his vast height – is dwarfed in comparison to its colossal self.

“Better start learning not to ignore my spidey sense! I’d felt you tiptoein’ over there,” It growls, neck stretching in preparation for attack. 

“We’re not here for you.” Miguel urges. 

“No? That hurts my feelings, and here I was thinking you wanted to be friends.” At the feral rip of its taunt, it lunges, tearing through the space separating you. The spider-man, in turn, dodges the barrelling assault, swinging in a blur of motion to a wreck not far off. You thank God for his flashy suit; the creature seems to forget you completely, pivoting to charge at him again. 

You force yourself to look away, sickened at the unhinged savagery with which it thrashes. There are people still around, crippled by quickly debilitating injuries, the paramedics meant to aid them now amongst the lost. This is what you wanted – the opportunity to help – and of course you’re still hindered by the asshole who’d refused you in the first place. Desperation weighs heavy on your chest as your eyes scan the spoilage, seeking anything you could use to cut yourself free. And there, you catch it – the sharp end of a broken gutter, its jagged edge catching the afternoon sun.

Using your heels as anchors, you push yourself across the coarse pavement. It isn’t a long way, thankfully, but sweat already starts to dampen your shirt by the time you reach the potential lifeline. Angling yourself, you press the webs to the serrated metal, ready to start shoving. That is, until you remember Miguel; how he sat on your legs, his talons performing much the same feat. He made sure to hold your wrists apart, so you didn’t suffer damages he didn’t intend. 

You remedy your approach, arms straining to separate, then thrust downwards. The telltale signs of your success come as pops, like elastic bands splintering. Then, it’s the easing pressure on your skin, irritated and surely marked in places where the binds come undone. 

The makeshift blade catches your elbow once you’re halfway down, burying deep enough to touch bone. The world narrows to the searing intensity that blazes up your nerves, eclipsing all else. You almost forget your goal, your brain stirring signals to pull away, but the fight that rages in your peripheral is only growing more barbaric. Alarmingly, Miguel is losing. 

If he dies, you’re next, and it’d all be in vain. 

Biting your tongue, you stifle the pain and continue pressing. The gutter inches sideway, ripping through flesh and web like butter, the sleeves of your top mangling at its lip. Miraculously, you stay awake for the time it takes to finally get your arms loose. It’s harder to preserve that triumph when you sit up, though, dizziness distorting the plan of action you’d set for yourself. 

(Get… get the people to safety. Then, your legs. No–

Free your legs, get the people to safety. And… what? 

The day pass. Yeah.

But Mig–)

Your body moves with an unsettling disconnect from your own command. Unable to fully grasp the dissonance, you blanch in bewilderment as you navigate the clearest cut path through it all. A dance in a mechanical rhythm; pulling the webs off your calves, running over to the nearest civilian, and helping them up on their feet. And again. And again. 

There’s a boy, young enough that you worry he doesn’t understand you’re harmless. His cherubic face is coated in a grey layer of dust, disturbed only by the tear marks that run from big eyes. His foot has been crushed, stormy blue blotching his knee. You dismiss the agony of your numerous wounds and crouch to pick him up, hugging him to your chest. 

New squadrons of emergency services trickle in, careful to leave their sirens off as they round the corner. It’s an odd enough choice that it distracts you from the child’s fingers, which dig into your abrasion for purchase. An ensemble of prospects occur to you. 

When you hand him off to an awaiting EMT, it clicks. 

What’d the creature call itself? A symbiote? 

(You haven’t always been science-oriented.

Freshman year of college, you’d joined as an undeclared major within the school of arts and architecture. ‘Course, you only had your general education requirements to fulfil at the time; useless classes that fit your self-imposed four day weekend, meant to do fuck all as your tuition went to waste. Needless to say, your ambition had been directed at more carnal pursuits. 

Then, there was astronomy. It’d awakened your curiosity for the cosmos.

Astro 8, to be exact. Life in the Universe. Your post-midterm lesson had been on a recently discovered,  space-faring civilization. Symbiotes – they were called – based on the initial assumption that they thrived in mutual beneficial relationships with other lifeforms. But the projection that flickered for its class of drowsy students entailed another truth entirely. Darkened bullet points in big, bold letters. Known weakness. 

Fire, and sound.)

You sprint towards a nearby cop car, its door wide open and the driver's seat vacant. It’s instinctual, devoid of consideration. A singular objective dominates you, beyond the day pass – to kill that thing. Not for Miguel, who’s choked in its gnarled hand. Not for yourself, or your deep-rooted desire for heroism. No. Just for them – the boy and that group of friends, the doctor who still lays dead on the scene. For the sake of this world, and to reconcile the life you took just last night, as if such a trade-off could absolve you of the weight of your sins.

Stepping on the gas, you accelerate abruptly, gaining speed with every pothole you drive over. It looms ahead, crouched in front of a hollowed-out apartment complex, suffocating the futurist spider-man and vibrating with glee. If you can align it – aim and time it just right…

You activate the wail siren. Your hypothesis is validated when it screeches in response to the racket, throwing Miguel off to the side. 

Good. He won’t be collateral.

You grab a gun from the cupholder on the dash, throwing it on the pedal to keep it down, then jump to the backseat. 

The impact is seismic; a violent convergence of metal and brick and brawn that sends shockwaves rippling throughout your being. You become captive to the merciless momentum, forcefully propelled against the leather cushions. Chronic whiplash shreds upon the vulnerable muscles holding the weight of your concussed head; its talons raking through the fibres, pulling apart the once sturdy tissue. A relentless ring envelops the cacophony of noise, and silences it into one, tender hum. 

You’re hauled out the window, detained in the embrace of some unspecified form, which settles above you for cover as the building comes crumbling down. 

Or – not unspecified. 

That mix of patchouli and musk.

Your consciousness turns to black as you're buried beneath the rubble.

chapter six →

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[bangtangalicious]

nexus (m) part 5

focus: jungkook x reader, seokjin x reader, taehyung x reader | smut: seokjin x reader

summary: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love

characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model/gangster!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 7.5k

warnings: proceed with caution. soft yandere vibes but nothing too explicit, angst, arguing, pool sex, unprotected sex, pet names (princess), arms dealing mentions, jin has some dom energy i guess, taehyung gives solid yandere vibes tbh, choking, strip tease, masturbation, LOADs of sexual tension, flirting, a sickening amount of making out, taehyung tries to kill you but not really, manipulation, firearms, discussions of mental instability (inaccurate), power dynamics, misogyny, feelings of betrayal, heartbreak, anxiety, fainting, taehyung is cold as ice ice baby, jungkook is angsty, jin is a sexy bitch, character death

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind@toughbook@mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

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Your eyes fluttered open. A familiar feeling of unease sweeping over you as your mind calibrates. No longer were you dreaming of Jungkook’s strong arms around you. His fingers exploring the expanse of your skin.

His lips—his eyes, everywhere.

No.

He was a Jeon.

You couldn’t fall in love with a Jeon.

There was a shadow casting over you. At the edge of your vision, an ethereal silhouette standing in your doorway.  Enveloped in a dark silk robe. His open collarbones striking in contrast.

Eyes sharp. Precise. Memorizing you.

“Morning” You rubbed your eyes. He said nothing.

“I said good morning, Taehyung”

“It’s 3 in the afternoon” His voice was ice.

“Well,” You sat up, running your fingers over the expanse of your soft blanket. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for me”

Taehyung scoffed slightly.

“I know better than to waste my time waiting for you”

A knife twisted deep in your heart. His words were so bitter. Tone nonchalant. Running his fingers through his jet-black hair. Taking a better look, you could see the ends of his hair were damp. Beads of water on his neck.

He went to your bedside, pouring a glass of water. His arms—those subtle veins—flexing as he did. He looked up at you. His expression shifted. Glossing with rage.

The glass shattered in his hand.

“Shit” You got up, pulling him away from the shards. Brushing fragments off of his robe “Fuck Tae—”

“I see the hickeys all over your chest.” Your eyes widened.

“Excuse me?”

He reached out shamelessly, fingers tracing along your collarbone. A subtle trail of his blood. Dipping into the sweetheart of your neck. His fingers slid up to your throat, pushing your chin up with his thumb.

“Taehyung—”

His grip tightened. Every single one of his fingers wrapped around you like a vice. You could feel the hate in his touch. The resentment on his skin.

“It would be so easy to send you exactly where you belong.” The edge of his lip quirked. “In hell, with my bastard brother. You two deserve each other”

His dark eyes possessed you. You became hauntingly aware that he could probably just kill you. That 10 years of resentment and isolation would brew all kinds of complicated problems.

He released you. You gasped for air, collapsing over yourself as his menacing eyes remained steady.

“What do you want, huh?” You folded your arms over your chest, “I apologized. I begged for forgiveness. The least you can do is tell me what I’m apologizing for.”

Taehyung was younger than you. But watching the expression around his eyes you could tell he’d been through a lot. He was dark—tortured, hurting inside and all you wanted was to take it all away.

“What the hell did they do to you?” You sat back down on the edge of your bed. Taehyung towered over you. Tongue rolling against his cheek.

“Detective Jeon’s father” Taehyung started, “Killed your mother.”

Oh so we’re just diving straight in. Inhaling sharply, you gave him a nod. “I know”

Of course you knew. It was fueling your latest dilemma. Your mantra every time Jungkook kissed you so deliciously and you had to pull yourself back to the reality that he was, in fact, a Jeon.

“Well, I’m the one who saw it happen” Taehyung began to tremble slightly, sliding onto the barstool with you next to him. You set a hand on his knee. “I told hyung, because I was so fucking scared. I thought he would hurt you next. When hyung gets angry he…”

A small smile spread over your lips. You were no stranger to Jin’s anger. How terrifying he could be in the, albeit rare times he would lose his otherwise charming demeanor.

“He had me point out who killed her. He took me with him and he shot Mr. Jeon. Like a maniac. Then he turned around and told the Chairwoman that I pulled the trigger. And my mother…was furious. I think she may have been having an affair with him”

Not just an affair. You mused. She ordered the fucking kill.

But he didn’t need to know that.

“She was furious at me. I was young, and I allegedly had killed someone. Naturally, she sent me away to get psychiatric help. Jin was her shining star, of course. The first son. She believed him over me”

Taehyung’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. It reminded of you when you’d watch him doze off in your lap. He really did have such beautiful eyelashes.

“That man who was impersonating me, Dr. Park—he was on my care team. He was instructed to give me pills to keep me from being stable enough to leave the facility. Jin orchestrated all of it. He kept me locked up for 10 years, just so he could have you all to himself. I figured it out. Stopped taking meds. I figured out he was trying to impersonate me so I began to lie to him. Hoping that someone I trusted—you, Namjoon—someone would notice he wasn’t me”

You held your hands out. Reluctantly, he placed his palm against yours, letting you squeeze. His eyes flashed. They were starved for affection, you could tell. He must not have had anyone to support him. To touch him. To keep him out of his mind.

“What do you need from me to fix this?” You blinked up at him earnestly. He simply held your gaze. Words apparently caught, as he gulped. “Because I will do anything”

“Time”

Fair.

“You’ve changed” It was meant as an insult. Of course, considering what Taehyung knew of you. A naïve, innocent girl who believed in fantasies. “Do you still play cards?”

Your grip on him tightened excitedly. “I do. Would you like to play?”

He squinted at you. “Later. Detective Jeon called for you” His eyes went back to your bruised chest. You wondered how he was able to figure out so much without any words.

Letting his hand go, you rose to go get changed. Taehyung’s hand brushed against your elbow, stopping you.

“Princess” He breathed shakily.

“Yeah?” You looked back at him.

“Did you and my brother…were you together?”

You smiled. Thinking back to the last night you saw him. The sweet moments before chaos erupted.

“No” Your fingers twisted against the fabric of your tank top. “We did not get together”

Taehyung nodded, heading for your door. He slowed down, for barely a second. Not even looking at you.

Hauntingly soft, he whispered:

“I’ll always know when you’re lying to me, princess”

- The night of the murder -

His plush lips melted against yours. He kissed you like you were a craving he couldn't shake. Like those lips weren't the very same ones spewing the lies that made it impossible for you to trust him. As if he could break through to you through the tug of his teeth against your bottom lip. Or the soft breaths he'd breathe into you.

It was everything. From your fingertips to your head, every inch of you brought to life. You’d never felt anything like it. Dizzy with need, you kissed him back harder, wanting to get lost in him.

He exhaled, barely able to catch his breath. His eyes were so sincere, so in love, you felt your throat get caught. Your chest burning.

“I love you Y/n” He had said it in one fell breath, cursing as his lips continued to move against yours. You could have been flying, you’d never quite felt so high.

“I-I love you too, Jin please”

“Fuck” The growl in his voice had you weak in the knees, “Princess you say my name like that I swear I’ll” He bit into your bottom lip softly, nose tracing yours. His words were caught, and you felt him stiffen.

“So do it” You blinked at him, gripping his shirt so tight it could tear. “Come on, Jin. I won’t tell. You won’t tell.”

His hands circled your hips. Pinching the fabric, tugging at it unconsciously.

“But then what, hm? Princess? I can’t let you go once I’ve had a taste”

“So don’t let me go.” You pleaded. Jin looked away. “You hate that I am getting engaged. You hate when I flirt with your friends. You hate that I have Yoongi. You’re jealous.”

You dropped your volume “Because you want me just as bad”

Jin looked into your eyes and you swore you could see his heart breaking. He was so beautiful, so twisted and yet you adored him.

“Princess…your mother” Jin stroked your waist tenderly, speaking softly. “She didn’t like me. At all. She specifically put in her will that if you and I ever got married you would lose control of her company. Of Nexus. Otherwise”

Jin smiled in defeat, gazing into your starry eyes. “I would have made you mine the second I could”

And just like that. Nothing—nothing was going to keep off of this man.

The safehouse was surrounded by a pine forest. The air was chilly, the stars glimmering in the sky. The back pool was glowing with underlights—the blue marbling reflecting off your face as you sat poolside, legs like a pendulum, kicking against your thoughts.

Jin slowly made his way outside after making the two of you a drink.

He handed your glass to you. Clinking it against his own before you both took a sip. A mutual decision to lose inhibition.

“You okay?” His question was sincere. You stared back into the pool. The edge had a small, sleek fountain. Pouring in more and more—but never overspilling.

You downed your drink. Welcome the burn down your throat. Jin took a seat on the firm cushioned pool chair. Legs spread, resting his elbows on his thighs. Swirling the glass against his wrist as he watched you.

His chest muscles pressing against the fabric of his button-down. He had popped a few buttons open, revealing his smooth chest. The glowing light reflected in his smouldering eyes. Eyes that were on the edge of danger. One word away from snapping.

You set your glass aside. Leaning back on your palms, stretching your neck back.

“You didn’t touch me in the shower this morning”

He took another sip.

“We’re just friends”

You got up, the water dripping down your legs. Facing him. Your dress was already scrunched up, but you looked Jin straight in the eye as you hooked your fingers under the straps, letting it glide down your frame.

“You’re right” You responded. A grin hooked on Jin’s face.

“You really are beautiful, princess” His voice was breathless. His compliments only fueled you. You loved his words like they were silk ribbons against your bare skin.

Next was your panties. Dragging them down your legs—you tossed them towards Jin. Without flinching, he caught them.

He was clearly amused. Intrigued to see what you would do next. Your naked body shivered in the crisp night. Nipples hard and aching to be touched.

“You like playing games with me, right Jin? Making bets”

You jumped into the water. Wading your way to the other end of the pool.

“Sure, princess”

“Then I bet you can’t come into this water and not fuck me”

“What’s in it for me?” He tilted his head, taunting you.

“I win, you take me out of this stupid marriage deal. You win—and I’ll give you Nexus”

His eyes flashed with interest. Thumb running against his jaw and he considered your offer.

Without an answer, Jin finished off his drink. Kicking his shoes off he stepped into the pool—clothes on. Wading towards you.

You could see his chest under his shirt now—the water bleeding through the white. He approached you. Inches away. Not touching.

And then your fingers slipped into your cunt. Without leaving his gaze.

Lips parting, you gasped. You pumped yourself, your other hand falling onto Jin’s neck. His pupils widened when he realized what you were doing.

“You really have no shame”

You let out a soft laugh, but the heat in your core was overbearing. Your fingers trailed up Jin’s neck, cupping his jaw before you pushed your thumb between his lips.

And he sucked it.

Shamelessly.

You surged with wetness.

You floated closer to him still, watching the way his mouth moved, Imagining against your throbbing pussy.

You added another finger to your cunt. Jin’s tongue pushed out your thumb.

“You feel good, princess?” His voice was coarse. You bit your lip, whining as you nodded.

“Yeah” Your voice was embarrassingly whiny. “M’ wanna come”

“What’s that?” Jin taunted, his gaze darkening on you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

“Wanna come…for you” You slide your mouth against his. He kissed you firmly, his hand reaching down, gripping your wrist hard and pulling you out of yourself. Replacing it with his own two fingers.

He cursed, as you clenched down on his fingers. His thumb rubbing against your clit. Slowly.

Your foreheads pressed together. Mouths open, breathing each other in.

“Wanna come”

“Not yet” Jin growled.

“Please” You whimpered softly. “Let me come”

Jin smirked, his other hand curling around your neck. “You listen to me.” He growled. “You come when I fucking tell you to come. Is that clear?”

How were you not supposed to get more turned on by that? You soaked his fingers and his grip on your throat tightened.

He pulled his fingers out so fast, it made you dizzy. The night thing you knew he was lifting you up, pulling your thighs apart so you could wrap your legs around him. His jaw slacked against your neck, sucking your skin as you cried out into the night.

“Fuck” He hissed, “You’re so hot” He cupped your breast, pushing it up to meet his lips. He sucked on your nipples in tight tugs—before widening his mouth so his tongue could flick at you.

Flipped you around—you back against his chest. The buckle of his belt pressed against the cushion of your ass. His hands fisting your breasts. Lips behind your ear.

You were so overstimulated, you wanted to cry. You could come from these teasing touches alone—and you knew he knew it. Your body was glowing despite the cool water it was submerged in. Every cell alive with desire.

He gripped your throat again, pulling you back to him so he could kiss your neck. His hair brushing against you, making you feral.

And then he unzipped his pants.

Pushed himself inside you.

“Go ahead” He ordered. “Come”

The pressure of him filling you up had you shattering. You screamed as you came all over his cock, squeezing the life out of him as he hissed violently. He didn’t move, just let you spasm with wetness while he felt every bit. You lost your balance, held up only by his fingers on your neck and breast which were still squeezing at you.

He filled you up so painstakingly good. And the fact that he just snapped so suddenly had you twitching all over. You’d never come so hard in your life.

If anyone were to see you right now, they’d see a man dressed in drenched business attire fucking a fully naked woman against a pool wall.

Fuck.

“You lost” You mumbled, reaching back to touch his cheek. You turned your face as much as you could to look into his eyes. “I won”

“I don’t give a fuck” Jin growled. “You’re mine now”

You smiled blissfully as his heavy cock dragged out of your cunt before slamming back inside you. The water in the pool spilling out over the edges. Splashing wildly.

“Jin—yes” You pouted with pleasure. “Oooh fuck, yes”

He took his time. Each thrust harder than the previous. And he watched your expression. The way your eyes rolled back, lips parted almost drooling at how good he was fucking you.

“So fucking tight for me, Princess—fuck” He dug his teeth against your ear. “You know how many times I’ve thought about this—ramming my fat cock into you while you whine and beg for me just like this”

He slid out, turning you to face him. He took a moment to smile, a look of incredulous disbelief in his electric eyes.

“My good girl” He tugged your bottom lip. “My pretty girl” His lips glued to yours. Lingering “You’re mine princess”

You nodded, humming against him. He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit—not leaving your lips for more than a second.

“Why’d you give in?” You asked him.

He slid back into you seamlessly. And you felt right at home. Gazing into his eyes, lips locked, with him inside you.

He rolled his hips, bouncing you up and down on his length. Your fingers scraping against his back. Finally grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging it. Jin hissed, biting at your lips. His hands on your ass, squeezing the flesh, digging his fingers in.

He licked your teeth, then your lips, before pushing his tongue into your mouth.

He gripped your jaw, tilting your chin up.

“Look at me, princess”

You did.

He sheathed himself inside of you. “Come”

And you exploded.

He had you on command. The power he held over you was absurd but you loved it. You loved him.

“Good girl” He stroked your face. The aftershocks consumed you as you whimpered. He coaxed you through it. “There you go, princess, you’re doing so good” Pecking kisses at the edge of your lips as you cursed out.

He slid his hand between your hot bodies, rubbing your clit as you writhed in his hold. He kept you cumming until there were tears in your eyes. And you were begging him—screaming for him to stop.

All the while, he kept digging into you. His pace picking up but his gaze never leaving yours.

And by God the way he looked at you—that was someone in love. So possessed with the flaming adoration and desire that reason flew out the door. He’d kill for you. He’d die for you. You had no doubt in your mind.

And then darkness came knocking into your mind and your high dissipated. You were supposed to kill him tonight.

Your eyes softened at him. A tear rolling down your cheek. Jin slowed his pace, looking at you with concern. He swiped the tear away with his thumb.

“Princess” He whispered, nudging your cheek, “Everything okay?”

The tears began to stream down faster. Jin move your arms so he could hold both your hands, still inside you.

“What’s wrong?” The possessive edge in his voice was evident.

You sniffled.

“I love you so fucking much Jin”

Jin buckled over, digging his nails into your wrists. You could feel the hot pressure burst between your legs.

“Fuck” He cursed loudly, pounding into you at a punishing speed as spurts of cum painted your walls.

He calmed down, pulling you into a tight embrace. Kissing the back of your shoulder.

Facing you again, cupping your face in his palms. He searched your eyes.

“The only way you’re getting engaged tomorrow is over my dead body, princess” He promised. “You’re mine now, forever”

- Present Day -

Jungkook wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see him after how the two of you left things the previous night.

Guilt seized him.

“Why exactly are you putting us in a room together?” Across the room, Park Jimin sat, handcuffed to his chair. The light hanging above illuminated his glimmering eyes. Hair tousled. “You know I can just tell her that it was you. I was Jin’s therapist—I know you two were—”

Footsteps echoed from the hall.

“Shut up.” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

He felt his heart get lighter as you walked into the room.

You. Causal. Jungkook’s cock twitched. Those little shorts that made him want to just grab at you. A long-sleeved hoodie that covered your hands. This version of you, he swore he was obsessed. The version not hiding behind all the Kim’s blood money.

Jungkook knew you were attractive. From the time he lost his breath seeing you at your engagement, until now. But right now. Despite the tiredness in your eyes. He swore you’d never looked hotter.

He reached out for your hand.

The moment you touched; both of your eyes met. Some sense of understanding passed between you.

I’m sorry.

I know. Gazing into your eyes had become such a familiar thing. He couldn’t pinpoint when, but you went from antagonizing him to being a source of comfort.

You were still a brat. And he’d tell you as much.

“Sure, don’t mind me as you eye fuck each other” Jimin’s voice interrupted the tender moment.

Jungkook's fingers intertwined with yours, forming a reassuring grip as he guided you to a seat beside him. The warmth of his touch lingered, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the inside of your wrist—a silent promise that he was there by your side.

"Y/n, Dr. Park. I want to walk through the timeline of the murder with you both to see where your stories diverge. Now, I don’t think either of you did this," Jungkook stated with a calm resolve. “I think it was Jung Hoseok.”

Jungkook felt the tension ripple through you.

He watched as you looked at Jimin. Examining him with distaste. Thoughts running rampant in your mind—he just wanted to climb inside and hear what you were thinking.

“No.” You cleared your throat. “It was me.”

“What?” Both Jungkook and Jimin were startled by the sudden confession.

“I killed Jin. Arrest me”

Jimin’s brows furrowed. Jungkook was simply shocked.

“Y/n this isn’t funny.”

You brushed off his question, pulling your hand out of his grasp. “I hated Jin. I knew about his years of scheming and lies. I knew that he was trying to get hold of my mother’s company after his mother gave everything to Namjoon. And I knew that he wanted me to get married to Taehyung so that he could deem him mentally unstable, send him away again, and steal my shares through the board once we got married”

“Y/n” Jungkook tried to get you to look at him, but you wouldn’t. Your eyes were on Jimin, communicating who knows what to that crazy manipulative bastard. “If you confess, I will actually have to arrest you”

Jimin was quick to interject. “Wait. Hoseok was there that night too, wasn’t he?”

You flinched.

“Y/n. For the love of God just walk us through what else happened that night. Don’t leave anything out. You can trust me” Jungkook urged you.

You pursed your lips. You were playing another game—he could see it in your eyes. Were you lying—why were you lying—and who exactly were you trying to protect?

“Yeah. Fine. Hobi was there. Luckily for me, because Jin and I got into an argument as I figured out what he was up to, and he got so angry that he—” You inhaled sharply “He hit me. So Hobi punched him”

A ringing struck Jungkook’s ears. He hit you. Kim Seokjin laid a hand on you.

A seething rage ran through his veins. He stood up, unable to contain the anger. Needing release.

His fists clenched as he did his best not to punch through the wall.

"That bastard. God, if he wasn't dead, I'd kill him myself,"

Your words from the previous day lingered in Jungkook's mind: "I've grown up around men like that."

For all he knew, Jin had been abusive this whole time.

Jimin smiled, “Funny you say that Detective” Jungkook shot him a look.

"I'm fine, okay. Hoseok and I go way back. He had been setting Namjoon up for months, putting the idea into his head to kill Jin by making Namjoon jealous that I was going to get engaged to Taehyung, and that it was Jin’s fault," you explained.

"Namjoon... and you?" He searched your eyes for an explanation. You avoided him once again. “Well couldn’t you have married him instead, I mean?”

Jimin chuckled, "That was Jin’s doing. Namjoon was totally in love with her. But Jin made sure that she was alienated from him after he assaulted her. He made Namjoon promise it would be Taehyung, convincing him it was what their mom wanted"

“What?” Jungkook’s jaw twitched.

“He did not assault me” You assured him, “He tricked me into giving him my virginity. How’d Jin even know about that?”

“Baby girl,” Jimin spoke steadily, “Jin knew everything about you. I wasn’t lying about the cameras. He monitored you like a hawk”

A disturbed look passed over you.

"Okay. Hoseok came and punched Jin, and then what happened? Did he shoot him? " Jungkook urged you on.

"No. I did”

Jungkook ran his hand through his hair, frustration evident. “You and me. Outside, now”

-

Jungkook directed you to an empty investigation room. Worn out and frustrated as he shut the door behind you.  

He didn’t say a word. Hands finding your hips.

Lips taking your life away.

You craved him. He groaned against your mouth, breath hot and fingers desperate. Lips tangling under a cloud of denial. Searching for a sweet escape.

“Y/n—we do need to talk—” Jungkook hissed in pleasure, forcing himself to part with you. He inhaled you, tracing his nose against your jaw as you arched your back into his touch. Chest heavy with want.

“I missed you” You moaned softly against his mouth.

Jungkook bit back a smile. Eyes ghosting from your eyelids to your lips “I’m sorry” He took on a more serious tone. His thumb running up and down your throat. “About last night”

“Jungkook, I loved last night” You spoke breathlessly. “It was the first good night I’ve had in a while”

Jungkook's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin as he spoke. The soft glow of a nearby lamp accentuated the contours of his face, casting shadows that danced with the weight of his words.

“Why are you still lying to me, Y/n?”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your fingers found solace in the tousled strands of his hair. The scent of his cologne lingered, a familiar comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

“Have I not proved myself to you? You still don’t trust me”

“You don’t trust me either, do you?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper that hung in the charged air between you. “Are you gonna let me go?”

You nudged him with your nose, a silent plea for honesty. “Are you gonna arrest me?”

He held your gaze, a storm brewing in the depths of his eyes.

“I—” Jungkook's voice caught, emotions raw and unfiltered.

“I hate that I’m falling for you.”

Your eyes widened. His confession was wildly uncalled for and sent you into a vortex of your thoughts.

Blush painted his cheeks. Speaking from the heart was evidently new territory for him.

“And I can’t stop.”

Your heart trembled. Fuck. You felt the same. You knew it, despite everything. You didn’t think it was possible to love so soon after Jin. Jungkook wasn’t Jin. He was simple. Exactly who he showed up as. He wasn’t playing games.

You were. And you couldn’t hurt him like this any longer.

“You know this doesn’t end well, Jungkook,” you whispered, fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I have to marry a Kim to get my company back”

The realization hit you. You couldn’t marry Taehyung—Taehyung hated you. He would murder you in his sleep, and you couldn’t have that.

Your plan failed. You couldn’t blame this on Namjoon anymore. You needed him.

"You’d marry someone just for a company?" Jungkook asked, his low voice laced with disbelief and frustration. "I thought you hated the way the Kim’s controlled you. Why would you willingly tie yourself to them?"

Your shoulders tensed, a defensive response bubbling up. "It's not just about them, Jungkook. Nexus is my birthright, and I have responsibilities. It’s all I have. I can't just walk away from it because you don’t like the world it comes from"

You knew he wouldn’t understand. People like you were groomed to take over family businesses. All you wanted was revenge. On a life that robbed you of choice. To do that, you needed power. You needed Nexus.

"Why not?" Jungkook shot back, his eyes searching yours for a glimmer of understanding. "Nexus is dangerous—isn’t that the whole reason Jin was trying to keep you out of it?"

"I don't need you to rescue me, Jungkook"

His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing in a mixture of frustration and hurt. "This isn't about rescuing you! I can't stand the thought of you tying yourself to a family that's suffocating you when I could offer you something better."

"And what is that, Jungkook?" you challenged, your frustration mirroring his. "A life where I’m with the son of the man who murdered my mother in cold blood?”

Pindrop silence.

Aside from the harmony of your haggard breaths.

“What?” Jungkook’s large eyes quivered with shock. Did he really not know?

“You think your dad was killed for no good reason—well there was one. Actually.”

Jungkook looked down, “Y/n.” But you knew there was nothing he could say. He couldn’t change the fact that it happened. That the two of you had history before you’d even met.

A bitter laugh escaped you, "We could never work"

"You think I wanted this?" Jungkook exclaimed. "I despised everything about you. And I tried to resist it because I knew it would be complicated. But, fuck, I want you. You want me. I don’t know why, I don’t know when, but somewhere along the line, I stopped hating you”

Your heart melted at his words.

“And you became everything”

You stared at him. Disbelief. And then you were running into his arms. He was lifting you up into a kiss. The kind of kiss that drowns you. The desperation, the pent-up frustration from your argument—the hopelessness of what you felt for one another—was a beautiful concoction of flames dancing between you.

“Y/n” Jungkook mumbled but you wouldn’t leave his lips. Afraid if you did, the moment would end again. And you didn’t want to think. You wanted to fade away.

Your fingers slid under his shirt. Searching his muscles.

Growling lowly, Jungkook pressed you against the wall again. Eyelashes brushing against one another, his expression softened seeing your swollen lips and desperate eyes. Stay. His eyes called to you. Stay with me.

“I’m sorry” You whispered so softly, your words feathering against his skin. “I’ll go, Jungkook”

He grabbed your wrist.

“No” Jungkook closed in on you, “I’m placing you under arrest”

Hobi’s manicured nails traced along the sleek contours of a pistol. Custom made. In his pocket, he felt the vibration of his phone.

Setting the gun down on the glass table, he placed his phone against his ear.

You have a call from—

“I accept the charges” This should be good.

“He knows your name”

There was no time for greetings with you. You weren’t into the charmed bullshit like Jin was.

Hobi inhaled sharply. Fuck. If the investigation moved in his direction, everything would be at risk. All these years, he had been meticulous and careful. Flying under the radar of any and all authorities. You’d only know his truth if he was in business with you. To the world, he wore a carefully curated mask. A budding model. To explain the money.

Explain his sin-stained wealth.

You paused for a moment, “He knows you and I have known each other. He also knows you dated Jin”

The last comment was an accusation. He heard you loud and clear. He knew you well enough now after the last three years spent plotting this intricate web to recapture Nexus for you. After the Chairwoman died, he approached you. Told you the truth about Jin’s intentions.

“How long? When were you going to tell me—before or after we planned to kill him?”

Kim Seokjin was a good fuck. He talked too much for one thing, but Hobi didn’t really mind. He liked to be in control of the situation. Play both sides, if you will. Dating a man like Seokjin meant letting him think he was in charge, when in fact, the reigns were in his own hands all along. He knew about Jin’s psychotic past. His twisted quest. All of it.

Lying was natural to him. One of the first skills he learned. “I was just doing it to make sure he didn’t know what we were up to”

“But he did know. Before you showed up that night, that’s what we were arguing about. I knew what he was up to. He knew what I was up to. And I think you told him”

“Careful darling” Hobi’s voice was silk, “I’m not someone you want to play against”

“They were going to pin the murder on you but I got them off your scent because if they find out about you—they find out—”

“That your mom was a mobster” Hobi spoke plainly “And that Nexus distributes weapons”

Thus the reason Hobi knew about you. Your mother. His family. They were in business together. You’d grown up as loose family friends who lost touch as life materialized until Hobi decided to make his move. Everything precise. Everything calculated.

“Yeah. So I confessed. It was a bluff. I didn’t think he’d arrest me but”

“You poked the bear, I assume”

“We’re not pinning this on Joon. I need to marry him to get control. I refuse to marry Taehyung—swear to God that kid will kill me in my sleep. Figure something else out, or I will whip that Detective around my finger and get him to blame you for it anyway.”

Hobi felt bored, suddenly. Meaningless threats were of no consequence. He owned the police for all he cared. He was untouchable.

“I’m not sure little unhinged Taehyung will react well to you marrying Namjoon. Perhaps you should consider staying in jail. Considering you did pull the trigger”

He could feel your energy shift through the phone. And what you said next was the only time you’d ever managed to tilt him off of his high-horse.

“I did. But he didn’t die. After we left, I saw him again”

Namjoon was back in his home office, urgently responding to some emails. Even among the chaos—he still had an empire to run.

His phone rang. “What?” His tone snarky.

“Y/n’s been arrested” Hoseok’s amused voice filled his ears, “She confessed to murdering Jin”

Namjoon’s brows furrowed, “Why the hell would she do that? And why do you know about it before me?”

“Namjoon. Someone innocent is going to rot in jail for something we both know you did”

Shit. Namjoon sunk into his ergonomic chair. Hobi was right. But if he went to jail then who the hell would run the company?

“I can watch over things for you until you cut a deal. I’m sure they’ll offer you something” It was as if Hobi could read his mind. “I know you, Joonie. You won’t be able to live knowing she’s in jail because of you”

But the truth was that, Namjoon had doubts. He remembered going to the safehouse. He remembered getting into a fight with Jin—Jin who was already battered up.

He didn’t mean for him to die. He had been drunk out of his mind.

“Namjoon” Hobi was persistent, “Don’t be like Jin. Do the right thing. Confess”

Fine. Namjoon shut his laptop and reached for his keys. He hung up the phone, rushing into the hall.

“Taehyung” He searched for his younger brother. He was still reading in the same position Namjoon had seen him when he returned home. He had to tell him what was going on. You were going to come home to him and he needed to know you’d be safe.

“Y/n’s been arrested for Jin’s murder. She confessed but—” He gulped, “She didn’t do it. It was me. I killed him, because I was jealous. I didn’t want her to get engaged to…well you…and Jin was the one forcing her”

Taehyung sat, soundless. Not a word, not a breath.

“I won’t let her go down for this. I’m going to confess. I may have to serve some time in jail—but I can cut a deal. They want to get to me anyway. She will come back alone, and my friend will be watching the company but” Namjoon panted.

He kneeled in front of Taehyung, palms to his knees. “I want you to know I missed you. I know we were never very close. But I hate what happened to you, I hate our mom for it, I hate Jin for it. You’re adjusting. You’re angry, and I understand. But you need to take care of Y/n. She’s our responsibility”

Taehyung nodded, as Namjoon stood up and rushed towards the door.

“Hyung wait!” Namjoon stilled. Taehyung never called him that before.

He walked up to him, before wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Come home soon”

Namjoon’s otherwise cold heart was flush with love. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have family who cares. His eyes became teary—but he had not time.

He was going to save you.

“Dr. Park”

You sneered at the smirking face before you. In the shared cell, for the first time you faced him alone since everything went down.

“You’re so interesting, Y/n” Great. Not even here for a minute and he’s already psychoanalyzing me. “We both know you didn’t go through with it”

You sat down in front of him, making sure there was a good amount of space. He tapped against the wall aimlessly. The air was musty—even a little cold. You regretted not wearing leggings. Legs bare against the bench.

Jungkook's confession replayed in your mind like a broken record. His hopeful, big, gorgeous brown eyes turned wounded. He opened up for you. He lay down his vendetta, for you. And you simply couldn’t do the same.

Because this is so much bigger than him.

“You can tell me what’s wrong you know” Jimin said. For once, his voice wasn’t laced with amusement. “I know you don’t trust me, but I am a therapist”

“Why’d you even do this?” You spat, hugging your arms against your stomach. “What was in this for you?”

Jimin smiled. “Jin was unlike any of my other patients. He asked a favor, and honestly I was just so interested to see how this would all play out. It’s a house of cards blowing over. Brick by brick”

You frowned. “What would have happened if we didn’t figure it out? Were you planning on actually marrying me? Living with me for the rest of your life?”

Jimin shook his head. “That was never the plan. He needed someone to show up at the wedding. Jin never let Taehyung out because he was terrified that Taehyung would want revenge. So I was to stand in. Get married to you, and then disappear. After all, Jin wanted you to himself but he didn’t want to share you. He can’t marry you—it ruins his plans. After I’d disappear, Jin would say that Taehyung was back in in-patient treatment to the board and take your shares”

You raised your eyebrows. “My mom ran nexus without a man by her side for years. I don’t understand why I had to get married to get access to them”

Jimin clicked his tongue. “That was Jin’s doing. Chairwoman Kim oversaw your trust while you were in her guardianship. Jin leveraged the threat of Taehyung to get her to add the provision. Jimin grinned widely, “Then he killed her”

Your mouth went dry.

“Slowly—and made it look like cancer. But she also knew it was coming, so she didn’t give him the company. Kim’s will do what they do” Jimin marveled, almost in admiration. It made you sick.

Something in your gut twisted so violently, you wanted to hurl.

“And Hobi” You went on despite your state, “When did that start?”

“Oh that had been going on for a long time” Jimin waved his hand, “On and off. They were a bit toxic.”

“Did Jin know…about Hobi?”

“You mean who his family was? Of course he did. He knew about Hobi and Hobi helped him plot all this out. Later, Hobi said he found out you knew everything—I don’t think Jin knew you two knew each other. But they both stood to gain. If Jin got control of Nexus, Hobi and he would be in business together. Though in my opinion I think Hobi was also planning some sort of seduce, marry, kill type thing to expand his own power”

Was there even a single person in your life who was ever honest with you? A stampede trailblazed over your chest. You were bleeding out on the inside so much that it all began to go quiet. All began to feel numb.

“Why wouldn’t Jin just ask me for Nexus? Why go through all this—he knew I’d do anything for him?”

“Y/n, I’m a doctor. I work with intense patients and sometimes in in-patient facilities. People who see me are truly twisted. You can’t hope to understand why they act the way they do. Besides, your mom had gone to great lengths to make sure that Jin specifically kept his paws off you”

Why? You thought back. If your mother hated Jin why would she have let you spend so much time with him? With his family. The two of you had been inseperable.

“Wanna know something else that’s fun?”

You glared at him.

“Jin truly, genuinely believed that everything he was doing was for you”

Don’t say it. You looked down, blinking back tears.

“He loved you. He wanted to keep you safe. Away from gun dealers and mob life. He just wanted you to have everything you wanted without a care in the world. Jury’s still out on if it’s romantic—or just insane”

Namjoon burst into the precinct. Jungkook was at his desk, staring blankly at the screen in front of him. “It was me. Not her. I killed Jin. There you go. Let her go right fucking now” He went on to corroborate his story. It matched up. Him being drunk, arriving at the safehouse no doubt after you and Hoseok had left. A gun was there. Jin was already down. And Namjoon had oh so much motive.

Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder if all your lies and games had just been to protect Namjoon. You acted so indebted to this family of psychopaths—after what Namjoon did to you you were trying to keep him out of Jail?

He was thrilled suddenly. Namjoon away meant you were free. You wouldn’t be able to marry him, not yet—and he had time to show you that you belonged with him. Away from these freaks.

“Okay” Jungkook said, satisfied with the confession. He motioned to guards to take Namjoon into the cell. You and Jimin both were dragged out in exchange.

“You’re free to leave” Jungkook looked down, pretending to shift around the papers on his desk. He couldn’t look you in the eye—the pain was still too tender. Jimin didn’t need to be told twice. He fled immediately. But you, you stayed.

Jungkook looked up at you, annoyed. “What?” He was back to the spiteful tone with which he spoke to you when the two of you had just met.

“I know you hate me” You said quietly. Jungkook noticed the queasy look in your eyes, “But Jimin just told me—everything. And Taehyung is at home who terrifyies me. I guess what I’m asking is—”

“Thought you can take care of yourself”

There was real, raw hurt in your eyes. Jungkook felt a little guilty. He knew this had all been emotionally traumatic for you. He’d seen you fall apart and put yourself back together again multiple times already.

“Jungkook” You gripped the edge of his desk, losing your balance. Alarms went off in his chest. His pride dissipated as you fainted—he rushed to catch you before you hit the floor.

The light began to filter through your eyelids. Slowly you blinked, trying to understand your surroundings.

There he was. Your shadow.

“You’re awake”

Even lying on a hospital bed, Kim Taehyung didn’t give a flying fuck about you. Great.

“I’m glad”

You struggled to sit up as Taehyung neared you. He gently traced the edge of your face. His fingers were tender. Soft. You leaned into his touch.

“Don’t do that ever again” His voice dropped low. Flattening his palm against your cheek, his thumb brushed against the edge of your lips, “I can’t lose you”

Your lips parted in shock. His face was serious as ever.

“Also, there’s something you should know” He stood up, turning his back to you. Staring intently out the window.

Your chest seized with concern. You wondered what happened to Jungkook—if he was alright. You assumed he was the one who brought you to the hospital.

“Dr. Park was found dead last night” Taehyung paused. “He was murdered”

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

a/n: its been a while since ive written so! pls let me know what you think!! scream with me!! who are you suspicious of! who are you falling for! i wanna know ;)

thank you for reading <3

#bts smut #bts angst #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jin x reader #bts fic #seokjin x reader #jin fic #bts jin smut #kim seokjin #seokjin fanfic #jungkook x reader #soft yandere #seokjin smut #yandere seokjin #taehyung x reader #yandere bts #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #bts mafia series #bts mafia au #bts mafia fic #ot7 x reader #bts series #kim taehyung smut #jungkook fic recs #bts yandere #yandere smut #yandere taehyung #jin fics

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Sarcasm's Rec List 2: Electric Boogaloo

[Thank you to everyone who voted!]

Masterlist Previous Rec List Mundane Macabre (main blog)

[Hardcover/Anger Management ship]

Red is Hood’s Favorite Color by mango_sushi98

Sonnet 29 at the End by ew_selfish_art The Rapid Growth of the Fenton family tree by Lunaml (First entry of the series)

If you find a vigilante in the dumpster by lunamugetsu (WIP)

The Night Will Come But Not To Stay by ectoentity (WIP)

Friendly Neighborhood Vigilante by Elizabehta_Beilschmidt  (WIP)

Somehow whatever’s eternal in me knows whatever’s eternal in you by DemonicoAngel (WIP) (This has to be one of my favorite works in the hardcover ship) To hell and back by Ocearna (WIP)

The Night Will Come But Not To Stay by ectoentity Advent Reunion by Shynnohwen (First entry of the son of the hood series)

[General Recs/no particular tag]

This Way Madness Lies by ConspiracyCrows (WIP)

Foundling At The Door by Spaced_Ace (First entry of the House of Elle series)

I can be both even if it’s hard (and it’s hard) by multi_fandomfreak (WIP) (What if Sam and Tuck went to get Jazz before Danny came back out of the portal?)

Staring is rude but so am I by Imshookandbi (Let Sam unleash that anger at her parents, as a treat)

Ghosts on a plane by NightShiftShenanigans

We All Have Our Christmas Traditions by Multisakublossom (Tucker-centric)

Alfred and the Tiny Attic Squatters by Shynnohwen (WIP) (Alfred is the real patriarch of the batfam, we all know this)

Like and Survive - Phantom's Guide to Young Hero Survival by robinasnyder (WIP) (Grown up danny, first hero, gives life advice, makes ripples) Visitant Lights by Shynnohwen

5 + 1 Meeting the Nightingales by elizabthemerald

Please Don’t Take My Sunshine Away by FearlessHades (WIP)

Son of the hood? By Valiantlybold (first entry of the Danny Wayne series, wonderful) Wayne’s Haunted Mansion by Tathartiel (WIP) Spelunking by SummersSixEcho (First of the Ghost in the Family series) regular boy: daniel wayne by phantom_o_writes (WIP) Dad from Mars by Animefangirl1221 (WIP)

Undead Lockpicking or How Danny shamed Superman into changing his locks by Milaley Contractual obligations by Calix, Tathartiel (A twist on the usual DC recs: This one is steeped to perfection with Hellblazer lore. Wonderful and epic, well done to the authors!)  

[Dead Tired]

The Batfamily Can’t Communicate by miistical

Bitter, had the Heart by CastrianAmore (WIP)

[Demon Twins]

The Sketchbook by Notrus You’re Not Who I’d Thought You’d Be, and I’m Glad For It by Nanenna

The Parent Trap by Nanenna

my starlight by hollowgast1  (WIP)

Loss Like A Severed Limb by Littlestartopaz

The Devil’s After Both of Us by TheWritingOwl

[Dead Silent/Deaths Dance]

Full Time Hero, Full Time Disaster by halfagone

Lex Luthor’s Ascent from Supervillainy to fatherhood by halfagone (WIP) (This feels like reading an epic) By My Count by TheStrange_One (WIP)

[Dead Serious]

Artificial Wingman by TheSleepyKitsune (WIP)

Love Like You by DisillusionedDanny (WIP)

Press Heart to Subscribe by Die_Erlkonigin6083 (WIP)

Webbing Up A Family by Agelaius_Ace

Peter the Pizza Guy by Irisen  (WIP) Along Came A Spider by RagsnBones (Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker) Butler Spider by Danny_shells (WIP)

Time flies by (bye) by whyiseverynametaken

Little Red Spider Hood by Cashmire

You With the Watercolor Eyes by DefinitelyNotIndecisive (WIP) A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba (WIP) Homesick by NotSoSweetHeh

Red and Blue are hero colors by Cashmire (WIP)

Spider-Man or Spider-Spider by disappear_rapidly  (WIP)

Spiderhead by emmacortana

Archnomaly by Songue85 (WIP)

Nothing Left to Lose (Dick in New York) by seekrest (WIP)

A/N: Congrats to 3am me for double checking the links worked properly. I hope y'all enjoy these reads!

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #hardcover ship #dc #peter park #peter parker in gotham #peter parker vs gotham #sarcasm's rec list 2: electric boogaloo

[starsologyy]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ─ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 [𝟎𝟎𝟐].

002. ─── ✦ DRUNK IN LUV [SERIES MASTERLIST} ✧˖*°࿐

synopsis ─ [31 DAYS LEFT TILL THE EXAM] gojo takes home his drunk girlfriend, who's actually geto's little sister, and aka, somebody he is NOT suppose to seeing at all.

content warnings ─ alcohol usage, curse words, and etc.

NOV. 9. 2007. 8:54 PM. GOJO SATORU’S  POV.

satoru knows it’s a dumbass idea to be next to the girl he can’t have. especially at a public library he rented at night, but it was cheap, and no one could possibly blame him. 

if one was asked to elaborate on this institution of knowledge as a birthday venue, one wouldn’t classify this place as a profoundly enormous architectural masterpiece due to its inadequate funding, which lacks to achieve something grand in that matter.

 it’s rather pathetic, looking at it. the knowledge that surrounds them has insufficient funds to where they have lost the dignity to not plaster a scroll of edo period art on the beige walls. but the old lady who runs it; hired satoru a couple of months ago, doesn’t seem to care much.

and satoru isn’t shown to care either since he rented it out for a birthday party for teens who wanted to drink. (when it was only her and him together…)

yet, he feels as if the old woman does care somewhat. she’s bitter, rude, and slips insults off the tongue like the sound of books off the shelves (she wouldn’t be able to hear herself any other way at this age) when he does the shelving wrong. but she’s not always a senile old woman, satoru thinks. she’s nice enough to spare him from a five hour lecture to not spill a single liquid of beer on the ancient books.

 It was only four hours today.  

but never mind that.

he knows he should feel terrible, bottled with immense guilt because he hasn't told his best friend, suguru, about how he likes his little sister. and yet, satoru oddly doesn't feel any of those things.

and satoru gojo, he knows he’s fucked for his apathy.

“satoru!” kana whined, kicking her restless feet against his thrifted, acid washed baggy jeans, “i’m sooooo tired. do you have water?” she asked.

impersonating the spider web that hangs on the corner of the shelf beside them, his barrage of intertwined thoughts rip as he pops his head out of the cramped space and his eventual hangover to rapidly nod his head. 

the snow fallen haired boy soon passes her a bottle of water, watching her chug it.

satoru can’t help the grin growing on his face. “maybe you should go home, you can’t handle your beer.” he teases with a cheshire-like smile. kana scoffs at him before laughing a moment later.

she leans on the table at the end of satoru with a flirtatious expression, “accompany me home then idiot.” kana teases back, and the male’s crystal light eyes widen in a bit of a shock at that invite. the top of his mouth even shrivels as he tries to aimlessly smack his rosy lips for a bit of random moisture.

 “ah well—”

kana rolls her eyes. “my mom won’t see you! don’t be a pussy satoru.” she frowns, “i’m not some fling you’re hiding, am i?” she said as she gave him a side glare, and he rolled his eyes after he shook his head no. 

being afraid of your girlfriend’s mom and your best friend (her brother) will see you, is NOT the same as having another girl on the side, satoru screams within his head. he’s surprised after dealing with her temper and chaotic mess he hasn’t gone ahead and found a different girl yet, but that’s her charm (supposedly at least).

“okay, first of all,” he explains to kana. “if i was hiding you, i would cover up your face with a paper bag everywhere i went,” the boy laughs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as she scrunches her face. “and don’t do that, you’ll get wrinkles and look like an old hag if you keep scrunching.” satoru adds in a sing-song manner.

“also, accusing me of being with other girls is also pretty much saying I’m with an old hag. like we’re 90 years old  and I looked at some girl at a bingo game because—”

“just shut up.”  she scoffs, pinching his cheek in response before settling down.

she doesn’t do it hard enough to hurt for long he realizes, even if he could technically handle it. satoru pretends as if someone shot him in the foot.

“OUCH!”

“FINE! fine! uragh, i’ll drive you home,  so you can’t complain to me. happy?” he shouts, pouting at the same time. though, it turns to an uncontrollable soft smile when the cerulean in his eyes rise as similarly unmanageable waves, to now mesmerizingly swirl in his pupils once it witnesses the sight of the joyful contortion of her lips. 

“really!? and don’t call me some old hag anymore! for the life of me.” she groaned, and he rolls his eyes to confirm his little tease will be over. 

kana smiles, forcing him up by suddenly jumping up from her seat similar to the cartoon characters plastered on the scratched walls behind him. satoru laughs boisterously at this, only to witness her also hop on his rather wide back once he also leaves the table,  wrapping her muscular arms around his neck to rest her head on his shoulder.

“you’re heavy!”

“fuck off!”

he clicks his tongue, holding onto her thighs to support herself on him. the silence between their lips pursue the delicate tread of the frail bliss known as comfortability. he didn’t mind the lack of their chat. It doesn't last long however. 

“seeeee, you know you like this,” she drunkenly cheers, her clumpy coats of onyx mascara with the shade electric blue on the tops fluttering lightly on her lashes as she takes in the fresh air once they step outside of the library. “how could you not love this? you should drive me home more,” she giggles. the alcohol seems to have set in, and her incredibly soft hair tickles his chin.

“and waste my gas? yeah fucking right,” he yawns mockingly, and she scoffs as she kicks her legs back and forth (ensuring to leave him a bruise for injuring her egotistical pride.) 

“ouch!”

“what’s with you and injuring me?” he grumbles. 

silence seems to have fallen off the thread of comfort now as he’s rather feeling uncomfortable from the sting of hard sneakers hitting flesh. 

her little ‘hmph!’ reminds satoru that it would mean dead silence between them, killing the conversation and giving tension between them as they both struggle to generate another, but he actually finds it opposingly soothing right now. 

they soon end up in his navy blue sports car, kana in the passenger seat as she rubs her eyes a bit. she’ll regret it later he realizes, but satoru stays silent as his engine rumbles obnoxiously loud, probably waking a couple of crying babies nearby. oops. not enough to wake her up though, so he hopes those moms would forgive him.

──────────────────────────────

the drive isn’t supposed to be long, but the time it takes to arrive to kana’s house stretches far into the greedy hands of eternity.  it desperately holds both souls in the stillness of the blinding rich glimmer from satoru’s sports car, and yet as dreadful as infinity may stretch,  he continues this sloth like pace, driving painstakingly slowly, and prolongs the inevitable.

the last time satoru gojo drove this slow, is when he first got it on his sixteen birthday and mommy wouldn’t pay to get scratches removed. 

yeah…

the reason he drives slowly though, is because he just doesn’t want to deal with what comes with pulling up near the drive through. yet he holds that breath of polluted city, or whatever how much a suburban town in the middle of nowhere can be considered a city, just at the center of his adam’s apple. kana sits restless, and exhausted at the same time somehow throughout all this.

she’s a bit naive, satoru thinks. for getting into a car with a man, to clarify. she trusts him sure, but caution lies clear in folktales of those who have been hurt by the ones they hold the most dear. 

she disregards fear like an idiot living near a radioactive plant. it’s impressive, but he’s the one who agreed, so he’s her neighbor in that dumb scenario. he stays silent as she rants about whatever drama could possibly conjure in the hellhole of the 2nd year of a suburban high school. 

but to be fair, she runs her mouth like an american sprinter about far less worse things than what he used to hear at his old, stuck up the ass, high school, before he got caught sneaking out at four am and was sent to this town like some mass isolation. 

“and then he said it’s not his fault he had to cheat because she just wasn’t getting his needs you know? but I was like nooo are you insane—”

…

“kana?”

…

“you there?”

he glances over at her, and his brows raise to the top of his head at the sight of the slight drool lining her glossed lips. the emergence of a buried sound of snoring in the rippling silence of a rural town where no one dares to stay up past twelve o'clock (or be faced with their mother’s rapid pull on rather sensitive ears) makes him chuckle. it’s amusing to watch, sure, but he quickly rests eyes back  on the ever winding road to not crash his expensive ass car into a boulder.

he really does need a new job. and soon. but maybe watching your girlfriend sleep should be a job in itself he thinks. 

satoru’s arms soon rest easy on his thighs as he gets comfortable with this road back to her place, just an easy step on the gas he also needs to refill. he’s unconsciously keeping a steady pace to not wake her up, but he denies it to the gentle, beating of his stone cold heart by saying he doesn’t have the cash to waste another gallon or purchase another tire to go over a pothole carelessly. 

also, he doesn’t want to wake up some family like he did a while ago. after another five minutes or so, they reach their destination.

──────────────────────────────

he glances over once more. “wake up ugly.” the cheeky boy provokes, pinching the chub of her cheek to leave it a hint more rosy than what kana normally brushes on her cheeks. 

“or else i’ll kick you out for not paying me back for gas.” he mutters to himself, his scarred muscles (from being outside more than some barbaric creature who resides in forests) almost shuddering at the thought of paying those ever increasing expenses. 

kana’s eyelids slowly rise to the sight of the slightest frown on the boy next to her, but they almost already fall shut once more from the alcohol she ingested a while ago. her lips remain shut while her head remains slugged on the back of his white leather extravaganza of a vehicle. 

“we here already?” she murmurs.

“just got here.” he nods.

a part of his aching soul is fond enough of kana, that as the girl holds near and dear inside his very calloused soul, he silently pursues the question of letting her sleep a while longer if her hangover needs so. but he disregards that thought. 

the longer he stays, the more likely he is to be caught. even if he wants his girlfriend to get the sleep she needs. 

kana raises a brow in turn to somehow telepathically question why he hasn’t launched some mischievous joke to wake her up. he can tell what she’s asking from that look in her eyes. 

 “since its your birthday and what not.” he quickly adds, as if to deny a disgusting softness that may cultivate in the gentleness of his self if carefulness continues to lack in the streamlining of hushed words.

“oh. okay.” kana sighs, a yawn escaping soon after as she rummages through the back of the car to find her onyx bag. it has a bountiful bunch of multivariety printed pins stuck to the painfully clear false leather of measly fabric and the same galore of cheap key chains stuck to the strap and zipper, but it seems more endearing than he is to her. 

he’s joking, obviously. 

there’s a quietness now as she continues to try to make sure she doesn't forget anything, and it’s usually familiar, but satoru feels a lump like he wants to gag and renchingly expel the hideous bile of his very stomach from its personification of a burden to ask why it exists. the silence from a bit ago was comfortable. now it’s noticeably not. 

why is she quiet? she normally talks his damn ears off when she wakes up, as much as he does her. it’s giving him an unfamiliar goosebump, similar to when he sees a seven foot male at his basketball games. essentially, it’s not good.

at all.

it shouldn’t be there, and his need for the expulsion of a cheap beer isn’t this feeling either. it’s not the same, even if he doesn’t like to drink very often and pukes after a sip.  satoru only drank beer today for kana honestly, but he usually sticks to more sugar cube filled mockery of these drinks more often than not.

she’s gotta be pissed off for sure, or satoru is in hell for not throwing away the empty milk carton from when he wanted cereal from this eerie silence. 

“you mad at me?” he hums, looking outside the clearness of his driver’s window (that he only cleaned yesterday to impress her).

silence again. he looks at her once more. did he wake her up too early? he doesn’t think he did (but men never know what they did wrong he learned). 

 “why would i be mad?” she scoffs, resting her bag in her lap as she then begins to pick up the things she keeps forgetting to get back from his abyss of a car every other time she enters his car. for example, like that vampy lipgloss from the dollar store, she keeps forgetting it, and always forgetting to take it back. 

“you just seem mad all of a sudden. i don’t know. did i suddenly fuck up, your royal highness?” satoru sighs.

“well, i’m not. you’re just reading inbetween the lines.” she glares out of the blue, and his similarly colored cerulean eyes droop at its very cold sight, like her being merely upset freezes him more than what winter may do in the essence of the common occurrence called frostbite. 

he goes back to looking away though, yet she can somehow notice a snowflake of shame as a glimmer in his eyes that she stares at quite often in the haze of her slugged drunkenness.

“so you are mad.” he states with a sigh leaving his lips after he does so.

she doesn’t respond for a moment.

“and if i am?” maybe she’s on her period satoru wonders. just maybe. 

“i drove you home though, like you wanted.” he seems to be insisting of a conversation that may drive him mad the more she could have the time to glare at him in this enclosure of a car. he shrugs, trying to open up a door that probably shouldn’t be touched. “did i forget to do something else? did you want flowers?—”

“just open the damn car door. im like a prisoner!” she responds, angrily trying to open the car’s side door after picking up her forgotten lip gloss. he grabs her wrist in a rather harsh manner, but it softens at the realization of a small wince on kana’s very face. 

“sorry—but, i wanna talk. i know you’re mad at me, but I thought we had a good time at your birthday party, and you know, i can’t understand why you’re mad all of a sudden,” he mutters, “and for being so dumb.” he

adds, and while he repeats the word ‘sorry’ like a broken cd, she knows satoru says his sorries and apologies as much as meteors appears in the very calming night of this town. or a tsunami and what not. 

satoru doesn’t intentionally hurt her. yet, it’s this time where retribution once more comes forth to punish the way kana’s senseless rambles attempt to shelter her from his notions of affection. he wants to know why he hurt her, but the countless occurrences she has pushed him away has comes to haunt her and her fragile femininity in trying to express herself currently. 

she shouldn’t need a man to help her feel better, she thinks. 

her endless polarity of moods continue to antagonize her in a manner that she will never be someone that she wants to be without agonizing over the smallest matters. it’s a shame when she looks at the worry in his eyes again that she's the cause of. 

they’re pure, and hers are troubled. she doesn’t know how to express herself in a matter of care and gentleness in which other women have been characterized to have known since their heart has beat.  

it’s easy to talk to the boy about anything but her feelings truthfully.

she looks down, because she feels the uncomfortable warmth lining her tear ducts. 

it’s weird, crying on your birthday, she thinks. especially over such a good guy like satoru, she just can’t get the words to slip as much as bile does after a crappy special night out. he carefully holds her for a moment now, as if she’s a fragile piece of glass, letting her head rest in the scent of his woody cologne.

“did you care when i was talking about that random girl earlier?”

huh? he thinks, raising a brow. she doesn’t know how else to distract him. she’s drunk. who’s going to blame her? 

“not really, but i guess it was fucked up her boyfriend cheated.” the white haired boy murmurs. “are you mad because i didn’t show interest, cause i was listening it only didn’t seem like it because—”

“because you were driving, i know.” he raises his brow at what could she be annoyed about if it’s not about that, but he stays silent. “i don’t know what i’m mad about then.”

he’s about to open his mouth but, “i don’t know. okay? maybe it’s because im buzzed. it just happened all of a sudden okay? you know i don’t cry often it’s just you know, you know? right?”

she’s repeating words like a mad man, he thinks. crying like a jester on display after a ball falls from the juggle of his rather childish act. she fits the role of one oddly enough, but he likes the spontaneity of it all. 

“so you’re upset at me because you’re drunk? because this happened all of a sudden you know?” if he says the words ‘you know’ one more time, he might bang his head. 

she nods. 

he sighs of some sort of minor relief despite not understanding it. “you’re always an emotional wreck after a beer.” he grunts, and she rolls her eyes, her fingertips obnoxiously wiping away her sudden tears as if she wasn’t wearing smokey eye makeup at the moment. 

she’s glad he’s not forcing her to say more. he’s glad himself he won’t have to provoke her to another mess of her drunken mind. he’s not equipped to deal with the mental breakdowns, but he still allows her to ramble endlessly about others, and then cry in his arms about nonsensical matters. despite him being the forbidden fruit she wants to taste his bitter lips, so she kisses satoru despite it all, savoring the sweetness of his love despite the fact suguru would kill her for dating his best friend. 

taglist? <3. just comment below!

#jjk getou #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen shoko #jujutsu geto #jjk fanfic #jujutsu fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #geto fic #jjk shoko #shoko ieiri #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen geto #jjk suguru

[soubi122]

hello! i’ve been reading your works for quite a while now and i can say you make me feel things i never knew i writer would. you’re doing such a great job so keep it up and know that we’ll be here to support you.

just wanted to check if you are down for a request too! would you do a reader x ran x love triangle where there’s an old and new flame? ran really loved his first love but had to let go due to gang activities. in the future with bonten, he met this girl and been with each other for a while now. you can decide who he ends up with.

thank you so much and take care always!

- Aya

Oh darling, I'm sorry it took forever - but I think I am gonna make this a two or three part series.

Warnings: light smut, language, mentions of murder, mentions of drugs, drama, angst, Ran is kind of an ass, pt is in the works.

Spider's Web - Pt.1

They called it puppy love when you first started dating. That puppy love turned into a serious relationship. Dating the king of Roppongi was quite the challenge and yet it was bliss. 

You've known Ran since he was 13 and dated him until he was 18. Seven years of your life was dedicated to this man. You gave him everything - your first kiss, your first love, your virginity, your first everything. You knew each other inside and out. Though dating him put a target on your back, you didn't care. You loved him and would follow him to the end of the earth if need be for him. Even when he got arrested twice, you stuck by him and waited patiently for him. Never letting another man touch you or even near you - you belonged to Ran. 

He however decided to burn paradise and cut your ties without a second thought. The separation was bitter and it left you with your heart in your hands. 

**12 years later**

A month into your new job and you had almost everything down. The man who you were working for was well known for his finance skills - a money making genius. To take up the role of his personal assistant was like striking gold. Kokonoi Hajime found you working for a partner and snatched you at the first first chance. Seeing first hand your organization and risk management skills, he knew he had to have you. Your old boss had no idea what he lost when he gave you up. Their success was due to 90% of your work. 

During a meeting, you attended in place of your boss due to some unsavory business. You handled it like the pro you are and did a better job than your actual boss when they held meetings. "Question for you…" You hear from across the table after the meeting is over. Looking up you see the silver fox eying you carefully. He was technically the guest of honor and boy was he handsome - beautiful actually. "Yes, what can I do for you?" You ask and finish collecting the signed contracts from the table. The smirk on his face alluded to him asking for a potential favor under the table. No, absolutely not - you weren’t going to blow him, regardless of how handsome he is. “How would you like to work with me? Your skills are wasted here…you could be doing so much more.” 

His words and further explanation led to you working for the worst criminal organization in Japan, Bonten. Under the guise of various businesses, they were raking in money, bodies and soon - expanding overseas. Nothing could have prepared you for the money you were earning, you were making pennies at your old job compared to here. Being Kokonoi’s personal assistant brought so many benefits that you thought he was a god. 

Though you’ve been here for about 2 months, you have yet to meet all of Bonten’s members - you’ve only met two more members. The man with the crystal eyes and scarred lips, Sanzu Haruchiyo, always teased you and tried to make you feel uncomfortable on purpose but you didn’t budge. He loved that about you. And of course, the head of Bonten - Sano Manjiro, gave a fair warning, well more of a threat. Understanding your position and your risks, you accepted them all and swore loyalty to them. 

Being so busy with work, you often stayed overnight in the office and left when things were done. You were essentially a female version of Kokonoi, only with better gambling skills - that is what risk management is in a nutshell. 

“Koko, your meeting starts in about 15 minutes, I already prepared the room, do you need anything from me before I go?” You ask as you are getting ready to leave. He looked at you and smiled, his signature cheshire cat grin always meant something sketchy. “You’re leading the meeting tonight.” He says while leaning against his palm. For a moment you thought you heard wrong. He was trusting you to lead the meeting even if you’re still new? You hadn’t even met the rest of Bonten, were they even going to take you seriously? “Besides, what better way for you to meet everyone?” When he said that you felt your heart in your throat. This was a big meeting then, there was no way you could fuck this up. You were actually excited about this. Without saying another word, you left the office and headed to the meeting room and placed a set of files for yourself. Kokonoi could see the fire in your eyes, you were going to take the first step into their world. 

Two minutes before the meeting started, the men were making their way into the room - as you were finalizing some last minute details, they only saw your back. The high waisted pencil skirt showed your curves and they were entranced by them. From behind you could hear low whistles and some throat clearing, they wanted you to turn around. Being used to cat calls and this type of behavior you knew best not to turn around at the first howl. “Who’s the girl?” You could hear from behind you. Kokonoi must have omitted your onboarding to the rest of the members. From what you heard, some were womanizers - perhaps it was for the best. 

Finally, Kokonoi walked in with Manjiro and were about to begin. “Everyone, she is our new employee and is my personal assistant. Treat her as you would treat an admin - she’s leading today’s meeting.” He said with a hint of authority. Turning around to face the men, you felt their eyes undress you and rake over your figure - it was nothing new. This organization was not only filled with criminals and murderers, but it was oh so filled with men that rivaled gods. 

Clearing your throat, you began without introducing yourself - Kokonoi labeled you as his personal assistant and that was all they needed to know for now. During the meeting you could feel their eyes follow you, they were curious about you - you looked so normal compared to them. There was one man whose eyes seemed to pull you in and make you look in his direction more often. Beautiful and handsome, tall and lean - he reminded you of someone. Though you couldn't put your finger on it, even the male sitting next to him looked familiar but from where? 

Everything proceeded without a hitch, you managed to impress them and also impress the head of the organization. Questions were asked and you answered accordingly. They sometimes just asked frivolous questions just to get you to speak. 

Once the meeting ended, you were approached by the rest of the admins and boy did they bombard you with other  questions. So, what’s your name? Do you have a boyfriend? How can I get you to be my assistant? Of course they were all flirting with you and you didn’t entertain it, politely declining their advances. When the tall male with lavender orbs approached you, you felt butterflies in your stomach - something you haven't felt in years. “Haitani, I need you to stay away from her.” Kokonoi jests and earns their glances followed by their laughs. But the moment Kokonoi looks at your face, he sees how it went from smiling to horror. The name he so casually dropped, there was no way  - it couldn’t be. Quickly regaining your composure, you excused yourself and headed towards the woman’s bathroom. 

The moment you walked in, you leaned against the sink and tried to steady yourself. The sound of your heart beating out of your chest was the only thing you could hear. Your breathing was shaky and your hands were beginning to tremble. You didn’t recognize him and it looks like he didn’t recognize you. “(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” The sound of your boss’s voice startled you, making you gasp and spin around quickly. You were a complete mess, sweating and had tears on the verge of spilling. You’ve seen Sanzu handle bodies before by accident and you didn’t even bat an eye. What the hell spooked you?

"Koko…nothing, it was just a little overwhelming back there. That's all." You lied and began to wash your hands. It wasn't like you to panic so fast. He walked closer to you and narrowed his eyes, he wasn't buying it. "You know you can't lie to me." He was almost inches from your face. You felt a little nauseous from all the emotions hitting you at once and your body was wavering. "Which Haitani is it?" Not wanting to risk your job, you told him it didn't matter - you just wanted to keep working for him. It wasn't the answer he wanted but he had a feeling he knew who it was. "It won't happen again." You say and bow. You weren't expecting to see him at all. Sighing, he backed off and warned you to be careful. The rest of the men you met today weren't as forgiving or as nice as he was. 

After pulling yourself together you stepped out of the bathroom and headed straight to your office. All contracts and needed documents were neatly piled on your desk. Someone did you a favor and moved them for you. Just when you thought you were going home, you ended up in a meeting with the higher ups and ended up seeing someone you wished you hadn't. Sitting at your desk, you began to work to try and clear your head. Before you knew it, it was already well into the night - almost 2am. You longed to lay in bed and rest. 

The sound of the office door opening startled you, making you snap up from your desk. It was Sanzu, you exhaled and sat back down, almost melting into your seat. "Jumpy?" He asks and smirks at you. Of course you were, your ex boyfriend was here and you almost quit your job. "Anyways, just letting you know that there is a car waiting for you downstairs. Go home." He snickers and pulls you out from your chair. Those crystal eyes had softened just a bit. These little random actions of his always make you wonder if there is a part of him that is actually sane.

Heading down to the lobby with Sanzu you pass by the others. The sensation of someone's eyes being laser focused on you made you shudder. Before Sanzu could close the car door he said, "Come to me if you need something to…relax your nerves." He smirked and walked away. You knew what he meant by that. Seeing him high or teetering on the edge wasn't anything new. He was opening the door to his playground. You never considered it but perhaps there was no harm in taking him up on that. 

When you arrived home, you kicked off your shoes and got ready for bed. You thanked your boss for allowing you to come in later since your day went well into overtime. Burying yourself in the sheets, you felt your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Though you tried, you couldn’t help but fall asleep with Ran in your head.

**in your dreams**

“Ngh…Wait, I’m about to - OH!” You moan and throw your head back into the pillows as Ran gives you one quick thrust of his hips. He had you pressed against the mattress with his hand around your throat. Fucking into you was like heaven to him, those warm and tight walls, and your siren like voice made him fall in love with you even more. He couldn’t go more than 48 hours without being deep inside your pussy. You gave him something to look forward to in life outside of gang activities. 

“Tell me you love me, pretty girl…” His heavy tone made you clench around his length and you were beginning to see stars. He looked divine with his long hair when it was loose, you always found him so much more attractive with it like that. Babbling incoherently, you say you love him over and over again. You didn’t stop until he squeezed your throat a little tighter and he left you a drooling mess. He filled you to the brim and wouldn’t stop until he became a whimpering mess. Collapsing onto your chest, he panted and tried to regain his breath. Both of you were coming down from your daily highs. He was everything you needed and you were everything he needed. For a moment, you thought this was reality…then everything faded into black.

**end dream**

Waking up in a daze, you sat up and looked around the room only to realize you were home. Exhaling and throwing yourself back down on the mattress you cover your face with both hands. Those bittersweet memories only made you feel dead inside. Knowing that he's right there and you have to pretend that you don't know him - that you don't exist. He’s gonna find out soon and when he does…what will you do?

Torturing yourself with these thoughts you could only think about him. Who was keeping his bed warm? Who was he fucking and would he ever look you at you the same way again? No, it was done and over with, he made his choice. Though it wasn’t fair to you, there was nothing you could do at the time and you struggled to accept it for a long time. If only you knew how much I loved you… You think to yourself and close your eyes. It still hurts, even after 12 years - everything still burns. 

Getting ready and heading for the office, you braced yourself - there was a chance that you would cross paths again. Kokonoi did mention that the others were away on business at the time of your hiring. Walking into the lobby, you head for the elevators and make your way to the top floor. When the elevator doors opened, the office space looked much more lively than before. With all Bonten members here the hallways were now buzzing with underlings. Looking around you noticed that you were the only woman here. To be fair, it was hard to hire someone who is trustworthy and loyal. Anyone who had some sort of criminal past were usually denied employment so that they don’t attract attention or to avoid potential surveillance. 

With your heels clicking down the hall, you headed for your office and noticed that you had a visitor. Sitting on your chair was none other than Ran Haitani. You felt your stomach drop. He was oh so casually sitting on your chair as if it was his own desk. “Good morning, gorgeous.” He said in a coy tone, his eyes reflected mischief and desire. Hanging your sweater and purse, you address him while avoiding eye contact. “Mr. Haitani, what can I do for you?” His eyes trailed along your figure, something about you was reeling him in and he wanted to know why. Since yesterday’s meeting, you plagued his thoughts and he couldn’t get you out of his head. 

“So you’re Kokonoi’s little plaything, huh?” He teases and stands up, slowly making his way around your desk towards you. You bite the inside of your cheek and swallow the urge to scoff at him. “I’m his personal assistant, yes.” You say sharply. He could only smirk as he figured he struck a chord with you. He was inching closer and you felt your knees getting weak, those eyes that held the world were in front of you again. Though his hair was clean cut and he’s brandishing a new neck tattoo - he gave off the same sensations as before. It felt like he was backing you into a corner. He was towering over you, his figure dwarfed your own and you knew he was going to try something. The tips of your ears felt hot, his scent was just as intoxicating as ever and if it weren’t for your past - you would have gone in for the kill. 

Building up the courage to speak, you tried to keep yourself in check before even opening your mouth. “Please step out of my office if you have nothing better to do.” You say dryly and move away from him to sit at your desk. It’s the first time he’s had a woman ignore his advances…well kind of. There was one person who did manage to hold him off for so long before she caved. His snicker echoed in your ear, almost making you turn around to face him. “A little feisty, I like that. Don’t worry, I’ll break down those pretty little walls of yours soon enough.” If it’s one thing that always irked you about Ran, it was his damn conceited nature. The world revolves around him in his head. Your scent perforated his nostrils and he felt a shiver run down his spine. It was a familiar scent that was bringing back old memories. Looking down at your hands, he was searching for a possible wedding ring. He could care less if you were married but still wanted the satisfaction of taking another man’s woman. What caught his attention was your right hand’s ring finger - it was adorned by a black titanium ring with an orchid engraved around the band. It was beautiful, he didn’t notice it on you yesterday but why did it make a pang in his chest?

The knock on the door made you both look up and face the doorway, Kokonoi was standing there and the expression on his face was enough to make Ran back away. He was not amused to find Ran in your office. It was enough to confirm his suspicions about you. “Would you be so kind and fuck off Haitani?” Kokonoi says. The tone was playful but you knew better. Great, it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours and Ran was already finding ways to jeopardize your job. The shit eating grin on his face only made the vein on Kokonoi’s forehead almost burst. As your nightmare walked out the door and closed it behind him, you exhaled a sigh of relief and were met with another nightmare. 

“You could have told me the truth, (Y/N).” He says and takes a seat across from your desk. His feline-like eyes were analyzing your every move and were looking for signs of deception. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoff, as much as you get along with him - he is your boss, not a friend. “You two had history.” Hearing those words made you pinch the bridge of your nose, he dug deeper into your past. He questioned you, asking all sorts of things that were making your head spin. You explained to him that you only recognized Ran and Rindou, maybe even recognized Kakucho from his scar. Everyone else was a blur and it’s not like they recognized you either. “Had I known Ran was here, I would have never taken this job - we didn’t end on good terms.” You confess with venom on your tongue. It wasn’t like he gave you a full blown description of Bonten’s members when you joined the team. 

“So, what do you want me to do? Do I start packing my shit?” You retort when he scoffs at your confession. As much as Kokonoi knew this was going to be a bad idea, he had no choice - you were his golden goose. He needed you just as much as you needed this job. “No, you will keep doing your job and keep him at bay. Do not allow him to get any closer.” It was a warning that left you a little uneasy. Was there something else he wanted to say to you about Ran? As he began to stand, you interrupted his leave with a bow. “Hajime…thank you.” You say and wait for him to leave. He chuckles and mutters under his breath, “You’re not in the clear yet, (Y/N).” Things were going to get much more interesting in Bonten’s office. 

A few weeks went by in a flash, more than half the time you avoided Ran and kept your distance. Either spending time in Kokonoi’s office or Manjiro’s office so that he couldn’t strike a private conversation with you was going over smoothly. Though one day you were forced to visit his office as he forgot to sign a contract. Taking a deep breath you counted to 3 before knocking on his door and walking in. “Aw, did you miss me darling?” He says coly and flashes you a smirk. Ugh, you wanted to throw something at him. Putting the documents in front of him, you informed him that he needed to sign the contract before tomorrow’s deadline. “I attached tabs in all sections that require your signature. Please leave the completed contract on my desk before the end of the night.” Before walking away, he stopped you and asked you rather redundant questions. “Sorry darling, you see, I have terrible eyesight, can you come and show me?” Though he was partly bullshitting, he was also telling the truth - knowing this, you had no choice but to point out exactly where he needed to sign. 

Walking around his desk to be at his side, you carefully kept a gap between you so that he wouldn’t try to lean in. “Each page has these little purple tabs-” You began when he rolled his chair closer to you. He picked up on your scent. It made his mouth salivate, a natural reflex that he had when he was close to someone he wanted. Finishing your instructions, you turned on your heels and walked out of his office without looking at him. You set a fire in him - he was determined to have you.

Even an hour after you left, he could still smell your perfume and it made his mind linger. Brushing his lips with his fingers, he wondered what you tasted like and wondered how your pretty little face would look when contorted with pleasure. Feeling the blood rush south, he palms his member and smirks to himself. Gonna make her bend over soon… His depraved thoughts were beginning to cloud judgment. The pinging sound of a notification snapped him out of his delusion. Looking down at the screen he frowned when he read the name in the notice. His fiance texted him, asking him when she should expect him home as she has a surprise for him. 

From: (F/N)

Baby, what time will you be here? I have a surprise for you. ❤️

End Message.

Smirking, he replied back with a ‘i don’t know but it better be that sweet pussy of yours.’ Oh, did we forget to mention that he’s engaged? It was a business engagement, he needed to marry a powerful businessman’s daughter to take control of their assets. Bonten didn’t care about playing dirty, using someone as collateral was child’s play and who better to send than Japan’s best womanizer? Though he was warming up to the idea of having a wife, he wasn’t too keen on opening his heart all the way. He was in this for the money, power and his own pleasure. Tossing his phone aside he began to work and pushed all thoughts out of his head. 

As the day was coming to an end he was getting ready to leave when Rindou walked into his office. “Aniki (兄貴). That new girl, I feel like we’ve seen her before.” He said. They had no idea they were right. You were indeed familiar to them both, however, with this much time between now and then - it was hard for them to even remember you. “You watch too much porn, little brother, all those girls' faces are starting to blend together. If I had known her, she’d be bent over my desk by now - they always cave when I come back.” Ran smirks and heads out. However, Rindou was right - something felt off and he couldn’t put his finger on it. You looked familiar, your scent also seemed familiar, for fuck sake - even your resistance felt familiar. Who are you, really?

When he gets home, he gets greeted with the loving arms of his fiance. Her embrace felt a little foreign as did her kiss. When he hesitated, she questioned him. “What’s wrong? Had a rough day at work?” She asks and begins to undress in front of him. She was planning on surprising him with a new lingerie set she bought, of course daddy’s money spares no expense. His eyes gloss over and he shrugs off the odd feeling that plagued the corners of his mind. Diving into the abyss, he couldn’t help but think about you. Your figure, your tone, your pouty lips… Ran was pretty much absent minded the entire time he was having sex with his fiance. Too drunk off his cock to even notice that her fiance’s mind was wandering and thinking of someone else, she had no idea that Ran was becoming infatuated with someone else. 

By the end of night, he layed wide awake in bed as his fiance snuggled against him and she slept without a care in the world. He looked over at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was almost 3:00am. He was going to have a hard time waking up in the morning. Closing his eyes he tried his best to drift off.

In his dreams he saw a mirror, he could see himself and how tired he looked. Then the image changed, the mirror became a window into someone's room. The window had an overall view of what he figured was a girl’s room. The more he observed the space, the more the room looked familiar and he felt a warming sensation in his chest. A young girl appeared, he couldn’t see her face but the scenes began to unfold. She’d sleep, wake up, roll around in bed while talking on the phone and laughs. She looked like she’s in love. All movements quickened, it almost looked like he was peering through someone’s memory. Almost like a home movie that someone quickened the playback speed on. He saw this girl grow and change, yet he couldn’t see her face. 

The playback speed normalized itself when a youngman appeared. The girl and boy shared their first kiss. Through that window, he saw his younger self - he must have been about 13 years old. It made his heart race, who was that girl? The scenes sped up again. As the scenes progressed, her face was starting to become clear. He witnessed their growth and even saw her reaction when he showed up with a buzz cut. She cried and laughed, but most importantly she looked like she was glad that he was home. When he saw her smile, he felt tears streaming down his face. Just looking away for a second, he wiped the tears from his eyes and looked back at the window. He saw himself with her but they were a little older, he recognized himself as 18 year old Ran Haitani. His signature braids became undone when the girl removed his hair ties and ran her hand through his hair. 

A lump began to form in his throat… The scene unfolding in front of him was the moment he took her virginity. It was an intimate and sacred moment. He was calming her and soothing her pain with kisses and words. Soon he could see himself get lost in her. They were both in love. When the girl turned to face the window, she had tears in her eyes and the broken look on her face made his heart stop. It can't be… When he got a clear look at her face, she turned to look at him through that window and reached out for him while screaming his name. 

The scream jolted him awake. He was sweating and his heart was pounding, pounding as if he had a drum in his chest. Taking in his surroundings, he realized he was back home and quickly turned to see who was next to him. It was his fiance, she was sound asleep and he felt a knot in his stomach. These memories, why were they coming back now? His mind kept bouncing back and forth between the dream he had and now. Then it finally hit him - that girl in his dreams was you. The same woman that was running through his mind all day yesterday was the same person in his dreams. 

The memories came flooding back, his chest was beginning to hurt and the pain was becoming unbearable. Your resistance made sense now, but why didn’t you tell him who you are? How did you get wrapped up in Bonten? Does Kokonoi know the truth? Why did he have to hire you? The thing that threw him over the edge was the fact that you still carried that ring. It’s the ring he gave you when you turned 17. It was making him sick. He quietly got up and headed to the bathroom to expel last night’s dinner. There was a reason why he left you the way he did. Ran peaked out the door to see his fiance still sleeping in bed - she was a heavy sleeper like him so he could get away with making a little noise. She didn’t move an inch as Ran got dressed and headed out the door.

For once in his life, he was at the office early - it even caught the security guards in the lobby by surprise. The closer he got to the top floor, the more he dreaded seeing you - he didn’t want to relive the bitter separation again. He was going to make you quit today so that you could never come back to this fucked up world of his. As the elevator doors opened, he saw that not a lot of people were here. Good, I can get into her office without calling too much attention. He thinks to himself and makes a beeline towards your door. He was determined to make you quit Bonten.

He was caught off guard when his eyes landed on you, he wasn’t expecting you to be there so early. All the sentences he formed inside his head somehow became a blur. Ran froze in place as you were too busy to notice him, you were on your tippy toes trying to reach a binder from one of the higher shelves. It reminded him of when he would hang something over your head and you struggled to reach it. The memory of your soft laughs and pouty lips made his skin burn. 

Sighing in defeat, you turned around and were startled by Ran standing in the doorway. “Mr. Haitani, was there something you needed?” You ask as you pull the chair from your desk towards the bookshelf. It was as if you immediately shut down the classic ‘Need a hand?’ question that was cliche in the movies or dramas. What surprised him the most was the fact that you were still acting like a stranger.

Clearing his throat, he stepped inside your office and closed the door. He felt his knees get weaker as he walked closer to you. Remember your objective… The little voice inside his head said. Trying to keep it together, he approached you and cleared his throat once again. “Again, did you need something?” You say in annoyance at his pathetic attempt to keep your attention. Does she really not remember me? As you got what you needed from the shelf, you set the binders on your desk and began to move the chair back to its place but Ran was in your way. Without saying a word, he took the chair from you and pushed it aside. This was odd, why is he in your office and what the hell does he want? 

Taking a moment to pull himself together he finally spoke. “I need to ask you something.” He manages to say rather quickly. Raising your brow, you looked at him and were a little surprised. The look on his face signaled that he was uneasy. It was a first to see him like this - out of all the years you’ve known him, he was always so confident or at least pretended to be. Nodding, you prepared to be asked if you needed a good fuck or a one night stand. That’s just the person he was, it wouldn’t have surprised you one bit. “What the hell are you doing here?” Your eyes widened slightly as you were taken back by his abrasiveness. What the hell did he mean by…oh. Before you could even open your mouth, Ran continued. “Do you have any idea what you got yourself into? The type of people that run this organization? Are you that stupid or blind that you can’t see the bigger picture?” By the second question he was yelling at you and for a moment he made you feel so small as he inched closer to you. 

You squared up to him and yelled back at him. “Don’t you dare tell me how to live my life when you haven’t been part of it for over 12 fucking years.” You were biting back tears. Ran didn’t want anything to do with you when you broke up, so why was he acting like he cares now? There was so much acerbity behind those words that it felt like a punch to the gut. Truth be told, you weren’t a child anymore - you were a grown woman and were more than capable of making your own decisions. Scoffing, Ran pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to throw you out, he didn’t want you to be here - you could go anywhere else but here. “It’s a little too late for you to pretend to care, Ran.” You spat back at him. Ran could feel his blood boiling and seeing you like this was burning his threads of self control. He wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to tell you he’s sorry.

He furrowed his eyebrows and glared at you. “I left so that you wouldn’t have to deal with this part of my life!” His voice boomed in the room and made you flinch. As much as it pained him, he needed to break you first so that you could hate him and stay away. After Izana’s and Emma’s death, he realized that anyone could get caught in the crossfire. Emma was an innocent victim, the Kanto incident took 3, almost 4 lives. He fought with Rindou about it but ended up letting you go. His words almost made everything go silent, you could only hear the ticking of the clock on the wall and the pounding of your heart in your chest. “...get out.” Was all you could manage to say. You didn’t want to hear any excuses he had to offer, especially after what he put you through. You blinked and found yourself pinned against your desk with Ran towering over you. 

Caging you between him and the desk, he leaned down to be face to face with you as he spoke with a heavy tone. “Were their deaths not enough for you? Tenjiku lost their leader and friend, Sano Manjiro lost his sister and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.” The realization that he was referring to the same Manjiro that is the head of Boten made your heart sink. “R-Ran-”  You stutter but he cuts you off. “We abandoned everything we loved and built an empire. We murder, extort, rape, sell women like you and destroy everything that gets in our way. Is that the world you really want to live in? Constantly watching your back in fear that someone will put a bullet in your head?” The obvious didn’t need to be stated, you knew what you were walking into the moment Kokonoi approached you. Your previous boss was partially involved in Bonten as a ‘business’ partner. You were warned well before you even took the job that Kokonoi offered. 

Before you knew it your anger reached a boiling point and you screamed at him. “IT IS NO DIFFERENT NOW THAN IT WAS BACK THEN!” You were right, it all came with dating a Haitani or anyone in Tenjiku. “I fought tooth and nail for you. Even after you destroyed me I still had to face people who were after you. It didn’t matter…” He was taken back by the raw emotions that were spilling out of you. The tears that streamed down the sides of your face only made his chest hurt even more. Seeing you in this state, seeing your lips quiver and seeing how you were panting - he felt warmth in the pit of his stomach. Were you always this beautiful when you were a fucking wreck? 

Just as he wanted to close the distance, someone bursted into the office to see what all the screaming was about. Kokonoi made a beeline towards you both. “You two, separate. Now!” He demanded and had a scowl on his face. Shoving Ran off of you, you straightened yourself up and Ran followed suit. “I told you to stay away from her and what do you do? You have her at an impasse!” Kokonoi chew’s Ran out for disobeying a direct order. “This doesn’t concern you.” Ran vituperates, he could only see red. “Permission to leave…” You ask Kokonoi and pray that he says yes. “Granted.” He says without missing a beat. As you walked away, Ran tried to stop you but Koko intervened. If looks could kill. 

END PT 1.

Exiting your office, you notice the multiple pairs of eyes that were fixed on you. They heard everything, the cat was out of the bag and you just wanted to hide. The other admins and executives were there too. Rindou felt bad for seeing you like this again. As much as he liked you at the time of your separation, he couldn’t bear to lose you or else Ran would end up losing himself. 

Sanzu approached you and offered to take you home. You declined, you wanted to be alone, he was bound to ask questions. The last thing you wanted was to remember more of your past. “At least let me walk you to the lobby.” He said softly and patted your head. As crazy as he was, there was still a little sweetness inside him and you found it rather endearing. As you stepped into the elevator, you could see Ran emerge from your office and search for you. He was determined to make you quit no matter what, even if Kokonoi refuses to let you go - he needed you to stay away. This wasn’t the life he wanted for you. Perhaps if he would have stayed with you, maybe - just maybe you would have been able to change his future.

Tags: @anxious-chick @reiners-milkbiddies

#tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers #tokyorevengers #tokyo revengers smut #bonten #ran haitani #ran haitani smut #bonten ran #mini series #request #request in the works #tr smut #tr drama #tokyo revengers drama #tokyo revengers angst #ran angst #ran haitani angst #new #tokyo revengers fanfic #tokyo revengers fanfiction #ran haitani fanfic

[jedijesi]

Caught in the Cat's Web Chapter 11

Miguel O'Hara x Felicia Hardy! Reader

Previous Chapter 🕸️ Series Masterlist

Warnings: Fluff, Angsty, SMUT (oral, piv, office sex), Violence

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Peter begs Felicia to come back to him, but her heart belongs to someone else.

Co-Author: @stclairesplace

Nueva York, Earth-928

Within the hidden sanctuary of the Spider Society, Felicia moves through the atrium with effortless confidence, her footsteps echoing along with the laughter and chatter of her peers. The familiar red of a passing Spider-Man's suit caught her eye, and she reacted instinctively, hoping to evade recognition. But it was too late.

"Really?" Spider-Man scolded as he watched Felicia actively avoiding him, the note of disappointment in his voice unmistakable.

With a heavy sigh, Felicia turned on her heels to face him, her expression a mix of exasperation and frustration. "You're the last person I want to talk to, Peter," she admitted, her words laced with bitterness.

Peter's eyes, usually warm and friendly, now burned with an anger that he couldn't contain. "We've known each other for how long? Over four years, now, and what? It means nothing to you?" His voice grew louder, drawing the attention of those around them.

Felicia glanced around, acutely aware of the curious eyes shifting in their direction. She put her hands out in a calming gesture, hoping to diffuse the tension. "Shhh!" She whispered sharply, her frustration mounting. "Oh my god, can you shut up? I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Yeah, and when are we gonna talk about this, Felicia?" Peter's frustration matched hers as he raised his voice once again.

Felicia turned around and began to walk away. "I have a meeting; I have to go," she said as she retreated.

As Peter watched her go, his anger unabated. "Go ahead! We all know how important you've become after exploiting me.” His words made Felicia grit her teeth together. “Keep walkin' like the bloodsucking leech you are!"

At her wit's end, Felicia stopped in her tracks, her emotions boiling over. She turned around and, without words, grabbed the front of Peter’s mask, her grip firm and determined. "You want to talk? Let's talk," she said, her voice a mixture of resolve and exasperation. She dragged him by the face to a more secluded area, far enough from the prying eyes of their peers, where they could talk.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She shouts, shoving his chest in anger, causing the Spider-Man to stumble back into a wall.  

Peter's hands ripped off his mask, his usual expression, twisted into a sneer. "Haven't you missed this?" he taunted.

Felicia rolled her eyes and paced back and forth in front of him. "You're fucking disgusting," she spat out, her voice laden with frustration. "Why are you so obsessed with me? I've told you a million times that we're done."

Peter's arrogant grin began to fade, and he collected his thoughts, his desperation giving way to vulnerability. "I... miss you," he admitted, his voice tinged with raw longing.

"Awww," Felicia mocked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I see someone's remembered how toxic MJ is." She imitated MJ's voice, her tone exaggerated. "Spend time with me, Petey! Stop ditching our dinner dates to save the burning orphanage, Petey!"

Peter tried to pout but couldn't help a small smile from escaping. "Come on, Felicia," he sighed. "You can't say you don't miss this, us."

Felicia dropped her smirk, her expression earnest. "I can, Pete," she asserted firmly. "I mean it when I say that I've moved on."

"One more chance..." Peter pleaded, his voice cracking with vulnerability. "Please."

Felicia shook her head. "You really don't get it, do you? When was the last time you saw MJ?"

Peter's eyes began to wander as he searched for an answer. "Why's it even impor-"

"When?" Felicia pressed, her voice demanding an answer.

"This morning," Peter admitted.

"Where?" Felicia asked, her voice sharp and unyielding.

Peter hesitated for a moment before answering, his teeth gritted. "At her apartment."

Felicia nodded slowly, her gaze unwavering. "Don't ever accuse me of using you again!" She snapped, her frustration and resolve clear in her voice. 

“You’re gonna regret this!” His voice raises as he struggles to maintain his anger. 

“Suck my clit!” Felicia shouts as she walks away. 

Peter stands his ground, watching her retreat. “You’re a selfish bitch, Felicia Hardy! You’ll never be a Spider-Woman! You’ll only ever be the other woman!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of Felicia’s footsteps echoed through miguel’s office as she charged in. 

“Hey, mi vida.” He greets her, standing from his chair. Instead of the usual preppy smile or devious smirk, he would get when with Felicia, Miguel was instead met by a serious and determined woman charging at him. “Woah, are you oka-”

Miguel was immediately cut off with a passionate kiss. Felicia’s hand gripped the collar of his suit while the other threaded into his hair, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Not complaining, Miguel picks her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist for a more intimate kiss. As Felicia became more desperate, she leaned her body further into him, causing Miguel to stumble back with a chuckle. 

“What’s gotten into you.” He questions, breaking the kiss only for her to work on the soft spots of his neck. 

“Rough day.” Felicia moans into his neck. 

Miguel struggles with himself the sensation of Felicia sucking hickies on his neck making him needy, but knowing he needs to check on her. “Okay, okay, stop.” He reluctantly sighs. 

“What why?” Felicia pouts. 

“Is this because of your fight with one of the Peters?” Miguel innocently inquires. 

Her heart drops at the mention of the argument. Hastily, she drops from Miguel’s arm to stand. “What are you talking about?” She plays off with a chuckle. 

“Felicia,” Miguel chuckles. “I know when you’re pissed. I’ve had quite a lot of experience with pissed-off Felicia.” His hand reaches down to take hers, his eyes staring into her soul. “Talk to me.” He whispered. 

“It’s just been a long week.” She sighs.

Miguel nods. “I understand, I’m here for you, you know. You don’t have to get into screaming matches with the other Spider-People.” He chuckles. 

Felicia returns his smile. “Yeah, he was just annoying and I was pissy.” She shrugs. 

Not quite satisfied with the answer, but willing to let it go, Miguel nods. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Hermosa.” He leans down to press a kiss on her forehead. 

Felicia hops onto her tiptoes for another kiss. 

“How sorry exactly?” She asks deviously.

“Very” kiss “very” kiss “very sorry.”

“Mmmm I don’t believe you, you might have to prove it for me.” She pulls away, starting to playfully walk backward, enticing him to follow her every step.

Miguel chuckles before darkly whispering, “Run, Hermosa.”

She lifts her eyebrows in a silent question, Miguel only replying with a stern nod, before Felicia bolts off towards the hall of his office giggling like a schoolgirl. Miguel only gives her a second head start before chasing after her. 

Felicia was taken by surprise when Miguel suddenly swooped her up and threw her over his shoulder without warning before she could get to the end of the hall. She squealed in delight as he smacked her lightly on the ass, before gracefully laying her on his desk. Felicia laughed, her cheeks flushed with excitement, as Miguel started to playfully kiss her everywhere on her face. Quickly moving from the top of her head, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, her chin, and back to her neck. 

He blew raspberries on her pulse point, eliciting more laughter as he pulled back with a wide smile on his face. “I like hearing you laugh, sweet girl.” He hums, before slowly moving his lips back onto hers, for a more slow and passionate kiss. She reciprocates immediately, letting him slip his tongue inside her mouth, taking dominance. His hands slide up from her waist to her neck, his thumb rubbing over the edge of her jawline as he deepens the kiss even more, causing Felicia to whine in the kiss.

“I love it when you moan for me, chica linda (pretty girl). I bet it would sound even better if it was my name hmm? He suddenly rolls his hips into hers, causing her to audibly moan at the action. 

Miguel’s fingers traced a path down Felicia’s neck, to her the spider emblem. His finger gently presses it, allowing the suit to loosen, allowing him to slowly peel it from her body. Miguel presses kisses to Felicia’s exposed skin, caressing her as he undresses her body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Without warning Felicia feels him insert a finger into her wet core. She gasps at the motion, her hips bucking without permission as she rolls her hips into his hand, her thighs squeezing against his wrist in anticipation. 

“Ugnh, fuck!” She moans.

“You like this baby? You like me touching you like this?” Miguel hums as he watches her squirm below him. 

“Yes!” Felicia screams as another finger enters inside of her, hitting her G-spot in a perfect rhythm.

“Say my name, Felicia,” Miguel growls. “I want to hear it from that bratty little mouth of yours”.

As his fingers pick up speed, Felicia lets out a low moan “Miguel.” 

“Tsk tsk tsk not loud enough for me, baby.” He takes his thumb and runs it over her clit, her back arching again from the motion. “Louder.” He demands. 

Felicia’s legs begin to shake as the pleasure becomes too much. “M-Miguel!” She screams. 

“You close?” Miguel’s cock begins to ache in his suit. “I need you to cum for me, pretty girl. Gotta cum so I can fuck that pretty pussy of yours. Don't you want me to fill you up?” Felicia’s moans grow louder as Miguel’s words bring her closer to her orgasm. “Cum for me.” He demands as he begins to kiss her neck. 

Unable to hold it any longer, Felicia cums, screaming Miguel's name. Before her orgasm could finish, she felt Miguel flip her over, her face, now pressed into to cold glass of his desk. Miguel’s suit retracts around his cock, letting it free from its confines. Slowly, Miguel pushes the tip of his swollen cock into her. Felicia moans as she feels her walls stretching around him to accommodate his huge size. 

“Fuck, baby.” She cries as he bottoms out in her. 

Miguel’s hand comes up to wrap around her throat, tilting her head back slightly to look at him. “I’m not giving your pussy any mercy, understand?” Felicia's head nods, desperate to be fucked. “Words, gatita.” Miguel gowls. 

“Yes, Miguel,” Felicia whispers as his hand squeezes a little tighter around her throat. 

Felicia saw Miguel smirk before he pulls out completely and slams his cock back in her. She lets out as scream as the head hits her G-spot. Miguel does this a few times before picking up speed. Their moans and the wet sounds of their fucking echo throughout Miguel’s office. 

“Oh, fuck, chiquita!” Miguel groans and bites his bottom lip as he watches his cock piston in and out of her tight pussy. His cock glistened with her cum. “You’re so tight, fuck!”

“Y-you getting close?” Felicia whined as she gripped onto the edge of the desk for dear life.

“Ye-yeah!” Miguel huffed out, his pace still relentless, desperate to cum. “Want me to fill you up, baby?” 

Her toes curled as he fucked her deeper, the sounds of him whimpering and grunting making her even closer. “Please!” She cried. “I need it!”

“Yeah? How bad?” The fingers that were gripped on Felicia’s waist, now playing with her clit.

Felicia screams at the extra sensation. “Fuck! I need it! Pl-please!” She pleaded. 

Miguel’s jaw dropped as his fangs dripped with venom, watching it drip onto her back and down her ass. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up.” He groans. “Cum, baby girl, cum.” He pleads.

Felicia’s body quivers as she cums, her throbbing pussy, triggers Miguel's orgasm. He can feel the vibrations of her moans as his clawed hand squeezes her throat. He hunches over her body, venom still dripping from his fangs as he fills her to the brink with his cum. The two spend a moment like this, their panting filling the office. 

Miguel places a gentle, tender kiss to Felicia’s shoulder before carefully pulling out, trying his best not to make a mess. “Are you okay?” He asks running his hands along her skin soothingly. 

“Oh, I’m better than okay.” Felicia hums as she moves to stand. 

“Careful.” Miguel chuckles as her legs give out for a moment, and extends his arms to help her. 

Felicia turns in his arms, pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. “You’re so fucking hot.” She coos. 

Miguel couldn't help but smirk, a mixture of affection and desire in his eyes as he leaned down to kiss Felicia once again. Their lips met with a fiery passion that threatened to consume them both. After they pulled apart, he shifted his attention to her discarded suit. With a tender touch, he began to slide the sleek, black-and-white fabric over her weary body. The suit embraced her form, accentuating her curves and the strength that lay beneath. His hands lingered over her shoulders, his touch a gentle caress that seemed to soothe her worn-out body.

“Wanna go back to my place?” He asks, caressing her cheek with admiration. 

Felicia grinned, “And do what?” Her eyes squinting at him teasingly. 

Miguel smirks once again before shrugging. “Eat dinner? Have more sex? Take a bath? Maybe have more sex after that?” She giggles as her arms wrap around his neck, bringing his face close to hers. “What do you think?” 

“I think you’ll have to carry me there.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft, affectionate smile played on Miguel's lips as he looked down at the peaceful sight of Felicia, nestled against his bare chest, deep in her sleep. With tenderness, he brushed aside a stray strand of her hair before leaning down to press a gentle, lingering kiss to her forehead. 

Miguel’s gaze then shifted to the window, where the first light of dawn was beginning to paint the sky with its soft hues. In that serene moment, with Felicia resting in his arms, the world outside seemed to hold its breath, allowing the two of them to share a quiet and intimate moment. 

The quiet rumble emanating from Felicia's empty stomach disrupted the peaceful stillness of the room. Miguel couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle to himself. He decided it was the perfect opportunity to surprise her with breakfast. With great care not to disturb her slumber, he gently slipped out of bed, before putting on his suit. Miguel leaned down, his lips tenderly brushing against Felicia's cheek as he placed a loving kiss on her sleeping form. With great care, he pulled the duvet up to keep her warm in his absence and gave modestly to her body as she wore his sweater and underwear. Quietly, he slipped out of the penthouse, heading for the cafeteria downstairs. A delightful morning meal promised to be his way of showing his affection for Felicia, a small yet meaningful way to express his feelings for her.

Felicia was still lost in the tranquility of dreams when a sudden and oppressive sense of suffocation jolted her awake. Her eyes shot open, wide with panic, and she gasped for breath, her chest heaving as her body surged with adrenaline.

In the dim light of her room, a shrouded figure loomed over her, a malevolent presence that sent shivers down her spine. Their hands, cold and unrelenting, closed around her throat, constricting her breath and leaving her gasping for air. The sensation of choking, of being utterly defenseless, sent a wave of terror through her.

Desperation and fear filled her eyes as she struggled to break free, her heart pounding in her chest. The room felt claustrophobic, and she knew that her life hung in the balance, the weight of an unseen threat to end her…

Chapter 12

A/N: Muahahahaha!

Taglist: @leahnicole1219 @oscarissac2099 @www-interludeshadow-com

#jedi jesi #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader #stclairesplace #miguel ohara x female reader #miguel x reader #felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy reader #spider-man x black cat #spider man x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spider man 2099 x reader #spider man x felicia hardy #miguel ohara smut #spider man 2099 #spider-man x reader

[hersterical]

I’ve been obsessively thinking about the differences between the lines ‘I would burn the world down for you’ and ‘even when the world burns down I’m never losing you again’ from the Carmilla web series (the quotes are paraphrases) for over a week now and I just have to talk about jt.

For a long time I couldn’t put what the differences were into words, I just knew the vibes but it just barely clicked in my head.

desperation vs hope

There’s more but ultimately that’s what it boils down to. The alternate universe Carmilla was desperate, empty, and insecure. She was preemptively deciding that she and Laura were doomed so she decided that she would rather doom the whole world instead. The world is the enemy. The world is the one trying to rip them apart. Not only that but it also feels like she’s trying to prove something to Laura instead of trusting that Laura was just as committed as Carmilla.

The main universe Carmilla though, she may not have much hope for the world at large, but she has hope for her and Laura. She trusts Laura. Obviously she would fight for Laura just as much, if not more, than the alternate Carmilla, but this Carm knows that she doesn’t have to. Because they love each other and they’re partners and they’re in it together. There may be difficulties. The world could be, and was, ending around them but Carm knew that it would be alright because she and Laura were going to be together no matter what. There’s still a degree of selfishness involved in this, but not nearly to the extent as there is in the other statement. And if it is a little selfish? Who cares. Sometimes you need to be a little selfish, but this feels like a healthy level of selfishness to me whereas the other statement is literally the same mindset that lead the Dean to be where she’s at.

The desperation and selfishness in ‘I would burn down the world for you’ would have lead Carmilla to be just as evil, twisted, and bitter as her mother.

The hope and devotion in ‘Even when the world burns down I’m never going to lose you again’ is what makes Carmilla Laura’s hero. It’s what makes her human.

Hope always wins out against desperation

#sorry if this doesn’t make any sense #I’m very tired #carmilla #carmilla webseries #carmilla karnstein #laura hollis #hollstein

[bracketsoffear]

From the Crack upon Hilltop Road, the Mother of Puppets blesses me with hidden stories (I still have more in fan-statement ideas, sorry OP)

Bitter Victory - Statement of Shuya Nanahara, regarding what he thought was a field trip (Battle Royale - The entire movie; Slaughter)

Re-entry - Statement of Neku Sakuraba, regarding a ‘game’ in the afterlife (The World Ends With You - The Reaper's Game; End, Web)

Birdwatch - Anonymous statement, regarding birds (Brian David Gilbert - Ornithologists; Eye)

Play Your Part - Anonymous statement extracted from a series of recordings by Toho Co., Ltd, regarding the production and behind the scenes of the Godzilla movie franchise (The Man In The Suit - The Man In The Suit; Flesh, Stranger, Slaughter)

Burnt Bridges - Statement of Jonathan Joestar, regarding his adopted brother (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure - Dio Brando; Desolation)

Lichen - Statement of Ethan Winters, regarding his 'encounter' with the Baker Family and fungi (Resident Evil 7 - Baker Family/Mold; Corruption)

Point to Point - Statement of the entity formerly known as Johnathon Ohnn, regarding his becoming and Multiverse theory (Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse - The Spot; Vast)

.

#asks #statement ideas

[indecisivemuch]

Time wasn't in our favor - Prologue

Pairing: TASM Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x Female!Reader

Summary: What if...your soulmate is from another universe but you didn't know? Soulmate AU. Set during NWH, fluff.

Note: Hi, this is the first piece I've ever published and it's part of a series (to be fair, part 1 and 2 is more exciting, but this establishes the background). It slightly won't match with MCU's timeline. Based on 'See you later' (ten years) by Jenna Raine.

Word count: 2.8k

Series Masterlist: Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Happy Ending, Sad Ending.

Soulmates were something that only came by recently. Nevertheless, it was something that Y/N wasn’t very fond of, unfortunately.

Hopelessly staring at the spider tattoo on her wrist, Y/N bitterly wrapped her black bandana over it.

After careful observation, scientists declared that upon turning 16, teenagers worldwide would discover a mark on their right wrist: an unremovable symbol identical to one single person in the universe. Those already above the age would miraculously receive it on the same day of establishment. This was also, unfortunately, established during the snap. So many who found their soul mark during that time never found their person. Some thought that their soulmate was dead, until people were resurrected.

It wasn’t that Y/N hated her soulmate. She just didn’t like the concept of it. To fall in love with somebody just because you knew they were the one, and nothing else. Where’s the thrill of knowing uncertainty? Where was the risk? And mostly, the reason she grew bitter about it was: what's to say your feelings for the person were genuine rather than a manifestation of the concept?

This came from Y/N’s personal experience, one that she wished she could forget.

She met Peter and Ned two years ago. Being the second most intelligent student in school, she thought they would have had the stereotypical rivalry. However, that wasn’t the case. They got along just fine. The two clicked straight away - too quickly, in fact.

That was the beginning of the trio.

It didn’t take long for her to realize that the boy was Spiderman, either. After all, the signs were clear as day if anybody had looked into it. Especially with her intelligence, it was bound to happen. From then, the three became even closer, to the point where she saw Peter and Ned as family. This meant that things were all great for Y/N. She was living the life she had always dreamt of: an amazing friend group, a well-paid internship, and good grades.

However, everything went downhill that day, and she remembered every detail.

12th October.

Well, hard to forget, really. It was the "Blip" day, known as the resurrection of those who were victims of Thanos' snap.

Y/N remembered lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. One second, the fan above her was spinning. The next, it was standing still and covered in spider webs. Her bedroom felt a lot dustier, too. 

It was strange for her because merely seconds had passed. But something felt wrong, so the girl called out to her parents. However, no replies rang through the house.

An itching feeling took over Y/N’s right wrist. She scratched and thought nothing of it until it started to sting. Then Y/N saw it: the tattoo etching on her wrist slowly, forming into something.

Her eyes widened when the formation finished.

"A spider?" she questioned out loud, grimacing at the sound of her scratchy voice.

Just then, she got a text from Ned. Peter's text came a few moments later. She skimmed through them, realizing that the boys were on their way to her house.

"What did you get, Y/N?" Y/N screamed when she heard a voice asking. Upon realizing it was Spiderman on her window, relief took over her.

"Gosh, you have to stop doing that," she complained, fully convinced that she would die from a heart attack caused by Peter someday.

"But "get" what?" the girl asked, slightly confused.

"Your soulmate mark? Apparently, it came about during the five years of me being snapped," Peter took his mask off, climbing fully into her room rather than sitting on the window.

“Snapped?”

“Oh...I didn’t know you were part of it. Right. Long story short, Thanos snapped his fingers and half of the universe vanished...it’s been five years, and we just got back.”

“What the fuc-”

"Look what I got," the boy spoke up, hoping to distract his best friend from panicking. 

“Are we just gonna skip over what you s-” Y/N paused mid-sentence when her eyes landed on the mark on her best friend’s wrist.

That was the moment.

Y/N snapped her head from the young hero of Queens's wrist to his face.

Suddenly, those plain brown eyes belonging to Peter Parker seemed to hold a glimmer of autumn firewood warmth in them. They looked prettier and so innocent. Something about it had made her body freeze, but everything within her was melting.

Little things she didn’t notice before, they were made aware of.

But then her heart ached for some reason - it was wrong, but she didn't know. The girl thought her heart was reminding that while, seemingly, her heart was beating for Peter, his was beating for Michelle Jones, the kind-hearted beauty who stole his heart from just a couple of words and exchanges.

So Y/N did what she thought was best then: to step away. If the concept was real, someday, he would realize that MJ was not the one for him.

Oh, how wrong Y/N was. Before she knew it, the class trip had come along. The girl helplessly watched Ned become Peter’s wingman. Of course, she didn’t tell Ned, as much as she adored him. The boy wasn’t really good at keeping secrets. Besides, Ned was Peter’s 'bestest' of friends. There was no doubt where his loyalty would stand if the two turned against each other.

Y/N watched as they attempted again and again for MJ and Peter to get together during the trip. And failed again and again.

Maybe he would give up now?

Oh, how wrong she was, again.

“Peter!” Y/N yelled, concern etching every inch of her face. She ran towards Peter. The battle against Mysterio was now over. Throughout the event, her heart barely had time to rest, always thumping against her chest, worrying about the teenager who wore a superhero costume that attracted him to danger.

Her arms wrapped around his weakened body, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Y/N,” and before she could mutter another word, the boy limped towards MJ.

Y/N turned around, thinking that the little pain couldn’t get worse.

That was when she saw it: the sheer look of adoration on Peter's face. It signified something a lot bigger, something that tore Y/N down - love. He was looking at MJ the way she wished her soulmate would look at her.

Peter nodded eagerly at what MJ said. Her hands were on each side of his face. MJ had the same expression of concern that was once on Y/N’s face.

Before Y/N could register the scene in front of her, the two teenagers started kissing amidst the mess. Yet, that wasn't the last strike. All Y/N saw at that moment was the tattoo on MJ's wrist, slowly shifting colour.

Identical to hers, MJ’s wrist also sported a spider tattoo. The only difference then was MJ's ink, which was in a colour Y/N now hated: Red.

As cliché as it was, upon the first kiss with your soulmate, your tattoo would turn red. It signified commitment and love.

Y/N waited.

She waited for the pain, the heartbreak, the sorrow, yet none came.

She stood there. Her heart dull, as if the scene produced no effect. Her brain, however, was screaming and yelling at herself and Peter. It couldn't comprehend the situation - did Peter have two soulmates? Or was he not hers?

That was when she caught onto the small difference between their tattoos, the way hers had two slightly shorter spider legs.

Realization dawned on the girl, as Y/N realized she had just experienced a roller coaster ride called false hope. It shattered her faith in the whole concept. She ridiculed the fact that she fell in love with Peter simply because she thought he was her “the one” instead of, perhaps, actually falling for him. She blamed the concept of soulmate for blinding her.

So she shunned it. The girl bought numerous bandanas, determined to cover away the tattoo that had familiarized itself into her memory.

Peter Parker was her first heartbreak, yet he never knew.

Both him and Ned wondered why Y/N started despising her tattoo. Did she find out who it was and wasn’t pleased with it?

They asked. She shook them off. Either shrugging or brushing the question away seamlessly. Both the boys assumed that perhaps it would be better to stop interrogating the girl. So they stopped, and she was glad.

Days later, the world learnt of Spider-man’s identity. Despite being the smartest person in his school, Peter decided to mess with a time spell to revert the damage.

The result was detrimental.

The next thing Peter knew, he was fighting a man with robot octopus legs on a bridge while trying to convince the 'MIT lady' to give MJ, Ned, and Y/N a fair chance to be considered for MIT. Several days later came the death of Aunt May.

Meanwhile, Y/N was forbidden to associate with her friend group. Her mother was worried upon receiving letter after letter of University rejections. 

After taking on the duty of Spiderman, Peter's grades barely slipped, but it was enough for Y/N to surpass him and become the top student at Midtown high school. Despite liking Peter, her mother was delighted with this development. However, right now she couldn't be more disapproving of the young superhero. Because of him, Y/N could potentially not get into any university.

So here Y/N was, sitting on her bed, preparing a speech so she could plead her case to universities who had rejected her - which were all of them. Not long after, she sensed a gush of wind in her room. The girl looked at her window, which was shut.

"Y/N!" she snapped her head at the voice of Ned yell-whispering at her. Standing next to him was MJ, while between Y/N and the other two teenagers was a portal similar to the ones Doctor Strange summoned before.

"Ned?" she matched the same tone, not wanting to catch her mother’s attention in the room next to hers.

"Come, hurry!"

"I can't just leave."

"We really need your help, please. Peter needs us."

She froze at their pleading. It was obvious that they were desperate, but what kind of help did they need her to supply with?

"Alright..." she trailed off, hoping that she would not regret this decision. It was most probable that her mom would ground her for life after this.

Running through the portal, she saw Ned making finger motions which shut the magic circle behind her.

Little did she know the things ahead of her.

------------------------

Thank you for reading the Prologue!

Continue: Part 1

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker oneshot #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman imagine #spiderman x you #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm fic #andrew garfield #nwh #nwh imagine #spiderman: no way home #marvel #no way home

[gravitycavity]

Condemed to eternal confinement within the Digital Circus, Pomni falls into a vicious cyle of anger, bitterness, and depression. Dark clouds swirl all around. Unless she can find something to live for — a single ray of sunshine to light the way — it won't be long before she breaks.

Obligatory repost of Chapter 3, just in case you didn't catch it the first time! We're almost to the halfway point now, and things are getting gayer by the paragraph 💖Expect the next chapter towards the end of the month!

(Also thank GOD I finally have an AO3 account. It physically hurt me to link to DeviantArt in the year 2024)

#pomni x ragatha #pomnitha #pomni #tdac pomni #pomniposting #tadc ragatha #the amazing digital circus ragatha #ragapom #digital yuri #jesterdoll #buttonblossom #ragatha x pomni #tadc fanfiction #lesbian #sapphic #tadc ship #tadc sunshine

[star-girl69]

I Loved You Like the Sun

a/n: i’m not ready to let go of this fic so i WILL be continuing it into the dance of dragons and i’ll be separating it into two parts. part one should conclude in what i hope to be 5 or less more chapters. i’ll be following the show plot bc that’s easiest for me. so that unfortunately means once i get through what’s happened in the show so far this book will be postponed until the new season comes in 2024 :( also- i heard all of you guys!! y/n will be claiming cannibal later in the series.

and i apologize for the weirdness with her father- after i decided to expand on this series, i decided to leave that conflict out. kinda a messy ending, but i’m eager for daemyra and reader to solidify their own family.

and btw guys it’s still me i just changed my username and stuff 😭

warnings: incest, swearing, violence, kinda sex tbh, mentions of death, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twelve- Silk Sheets

—-

Jace admits Lady Y/N confuses him.

He knows the facts- he knows that his mother and Daemon clearly feel some affection towards her.

He thinks back to their time in Kings Landing, when he saw Daemon with his hand on Y/N’s thigh and his mothers arm around her chair.

He remembers hearing a scream, muffled, coming from the other wing of their apartments. He remembers the banging on the door, and then the silence before screams of pain. They were unfamiliar. He remembers sneaking out of his bed, past the guards roaming the halls to look for something, he wasn’t sure. He remembers his mother crying, before bringing Lady Y/N into her arms. He remembers her calling the Lady “my Y/N.”

He remembers the special attention, the red dresses, the longing looks.

And he notices.

He notices how his mother and Daemon insert Y/N into their lives, scheduling bonding time with each of the children. He notices how his mother always makes sure Y/N is there.

His siblings are already entranced with her. Lucerys worships the ground she walks on, Baela proclaims Y/N to be her best friend, and Rhaena always draws her attention with soft words and nimble sewing hands. Joffrey and Aegon adore her as well, although they are too young to truly understand what is going on.

Jace does not know how his siblings have surrenders to her web. Does not know how his parents have. Does not know why he feels the webs clinging to his skin.

But now, she only watches him with fire-bright eyes. She does not carry their name. But fire burns in her, and Jace would be a fool not to see it.

He parries and blocks, rallies and ducks. He evades the wooden sword of the non-descript guard, feeling Lady Y/N’s eyes on him.

It is a blur of movement- an empty brain, devoid of thoughts about Aegon and Aemond and the rest of the Hightowers. His ailing grandfather. His poor aunt, who is subjected to a life with Aegon. How the crown already weighs heavy on his mother’s shoulders and she does not even have one yet. How one day that will be his.

He isn’t sure he can imagine it.

Baela at his side, Jace and Rhaena in Driftmark. Joffrey will be with him, of course. He needs a cupbearer if he is to be king. He likes to imagine Aegon will be a fierce warrior.

His grandparents dead. Daemon dead. His mother dead. Uncles bitter about their lack of power.

With a grunt, the knight yields. Jace’s sword at his throat. Lady Y/N claps.

Jace is burning under the spring sun.

—-

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised how grand Daemon and Rhaenyra’s chambers were- much less the rest of Dragonstone.

Sometimes you forgot they were as powerful as they were, that the commanded the skies and the sea, the earth and the wind. They had thousands of men at their beck and call- to fight for them, to die for them.

Knowing that Daemon and Rhaenyra had all of that power at the word of a raven made you feel better about the letter from your father.

The two had wasted no time in furnishing their room to become yours as well. A bookshelf on the far wall, the comfiest chair next to the fireplace, tapestries of your choosing on the walls. It was more of a home then your room at Chambers Manor ever was.

You let your hand stretch over the silk sheets, blood red. Your hand splays, fingers dig in, making that scratching sound that makes a shiver run down your spine.

You sigh, falling back onto the bed.

What would you think if your father could see you now? You, the youngest of four, just trying to make it by unnoticed by your family. Your mother had passed years ago- one of the reasons you bonded so well with Rhaenyra.

—-

“I miss her.”

It is her mothers birthday.

She demands that you stay with her all day, so unlike her usual sweet asks and subtle coercion (you can’t refuse the feel of her lips). And her harsh tone is nothing like normal.

But she is hurting. You let her boss you around. If it made her feel better, you would rip out your own heart for her. You are already walking around with something inside of you that belongs to her, what difference does it make if it is in your chest or her hands? You never survived on blood. You survived on star power, on something mystical and otherworldly. Something no one else could understand.

Rhaenyra stifles another sob into your hair, as you hold her with tight hands. You urge her to breathe, and she does. Your chest aches.

Rhaenyra is your savior. Your lover. Your everything. She is like dragonfire being blown in your face- leaving you unscathed. She burns bright and hot but as you get closer, you see that she is just a young girl. Motherless. Powerless.

You know that one day she will burn. But today is not that day.

Besides, she is stronger than that. She is more than her loss.

It is a while before her sobs quite down.

“Tell me something. Distract me, my love.”

You sigh, mind scrambling. “Did I ever tell you about my great grandmother?” She shakes her head, and you hum. “Her name was Alyssa. She was a Targaryen, a cousin to Old King Jaehaerys. She had a dragon, you know. Pink, if the stories are to be believed. A ferocious she-dragon named Heartfyre. My grandmother claimed Heartfyre when she was only 12 years old. She said she wasn’t even sure what was happening. She thought the old dragon was going to kill her. But she did not. After my grandmother died, Heartfyre flew off- to Old Valyria, traders on the sea said. No one ever saw her again.”

Your hands tangle in Rhaenyra’s hair.

“That’s sweet,” she murmurs, and you are relieved to hear no remnants of a sob in her voice. “‘M sorry for being so rude today.”

“It’s okay, Rhaenyra. I know. I know.”

She does not cry. She is a princess. She is a Targaryen.

But here, with you, she lets herself fall. It is the sweetest thing.

—-

The door opens with a sharp creek, and voices fill the room. It is what you have been waiting for.

You stand, skirting past Rhaenyra and Daemon in the doorway.

“Y/N, come back!” Rhaenyra calls, and for once, you do not answer her. You grab the letter you received late last night. It is hidden in your bookshelf, in between the cover of your favorite book.

When you turn back around, Rhaenyra is sitting leisurely on the bed. Daemon sets Dark Sister on the side table, fingers carefully tracing down the blade. He handles it with such care and reverence, you admire it.

You pad over to the wordlessly, letter burning in your hands. You do not trust yourself to speak, and Rhaenyra frowns when you hand her the letter. She tugs on your red slip, pulling you next to her on the bed.

“What’s this?”

You sigh, wordless, placing your forehead on her shoulder. You can tell she is concerned, placing a hand on the side of your face. You hear the sound of the wax seal ripping.

You did not dare open it.

Her eyes scan over it quickly, and you hear the sound of Daemon’s holster falling to the floor.

“Your father.” She whispers, and it is a breathless thing.

You nod against her, her hand curls into your hair.

“I won’t let him take you. Not again.”

“What?” Daemon asks, walking over, finally in earshot of your hushed voices.

“Letter.” Rhaenyra whispers. “Y/N’s father.”

“Tell him to fuck off,” Daemon scoffs.

You are too nervous to admonish him, Rhaenyra too busy reading.

“He says you can stay in Dragonstone. That your siblings married better than you. He doesn’t care.”

You let out a breath of relief.

The years of letting him pass you by have paid off.

“Thank the Gods,” you murmur.

“Were you scared, my sweet girl? You must know by now, we will not let anyone take you, hm?”

You pull back from Rhaenyra. Miss her warmth.

“I know, but, still. We are not married.”

“That can be arranged.” You do not need to look at Daemon to know his face is sporting a large smirk.

Rhaenyra sighs from beside you, beginning to take down her intricate hairstyle.

“We won’t do anything until you say so, my love.” She shoots a look to Daemon, and you smile. You fall back onto the bed, on your side, cheek pressing into the silk fabric. Daemon comes into your point of view, but only for a second. He walks past you, to the other side of the bed, bed dipping as he lays down.

It is domestic. It is normal. It is all you have ever wanted.

Daemon winds a hand into your hair, tugging you up. You sit up, and he beckons you over with a lazy grin and a movement of his finger. You come to your knees, and he palms your hips.

“Made for us,” he murmurs.

He pulls you to straddle him in one swift move- and he moans at the sight of your flustered from the lack of warning.

He is drowning in his own lust, in the tightening of his pants. You can feel it below you. Pressing up against you in the most delicious way-

When your hips move, it is a reflex. A desperate chase for more of this feeling.

Daemon and Rhaenyra have not ravaged you like this. No one has. Your husband neglected his duties to you. But you are take by the sudden need to be taken by them, to be full, to feel loved.

“Daemon,” you moan. He grunts, face burying into your neck to leave hard kisses.

You hear the silk sheets rustle from behind you, the press of something warm against your back. Rhaenyra is right behind you, breath fanning the side of your face. Her hands rest on your stomach, a comforting, sure pressure.

“This is what I want to see for the rest of my life. The prettiest girl, a desperate mess for us, yeah?”

You moan at her words, hips moving again. Daemon throws his head back, hands gripping your hips tighter, pushing you down-

When Rhaenyra’s hand travels along your stomach, you grab it, instinctively. You do not know if you are ready.

“We will have you as you are,” she whispers, and you let her hand go. When her warm hand dips under your skirts you shiver with anticipation. With want. With need.

The head of Daemon’s manhood touches his stomach, and you press against the length of it. It must be a painful thing, you think, by any way Daemon grips your hips.

Her hand moves past your small clothes, and Daemon lets out another groan at the press of her hand as well.

Daemon grabs the front of your dress, ripping it in half in a show of raw strength. You shriek in suprise, but he only laughs, dark and promising.

He leans back, admiring.

Your arms come over your chest, but Daemon grabs them with a growl.

“Did you not hear me?” Rhaenyra whispers, hot and breathy in your ear. The tip of her finger circles for the first time in so many years, and you throw your head back onto her shoulder. “I said we will have you as you are.”

And when they have you, you swear you melt into the silk sheets.

—-

taglist:

@wondergal2001 @akiraquote @a-lil-bit-nuts @anginoguera @thatkinkylesgirl1 @stitchattacks @honeypillowsblog @kaloafd @blackhoodlea @softtina @wallace02sblog @tetgod @hotd-fanfic

#daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader

[cutthelights-if]

RATED 17+

INT. BACKSTAGE - DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

The door to the dressing room swings shut, the quiet snick of a lock sliding into place. Five minutes until the shoot starts, yet you’re still rooted in place, watching as the script sitting on the counter flutters open. A reminder that for you, the breeze is never just the breeze. Just like how you feel an overlapping exhale, another presence that matches you breath for breath, you're never alone.

A rhythmic tapping to the left, the carpet muffling the sound of footsteps you know would be echoing otherwise. You’re awake, yet you feel anything but. A living nightmare, your horror electrifying your pulse.

“Stop,” you whisper, but the dead never listen, do they?

The cold settles over you like being submerged underwater. Stop. It punches through the cavern of your chest, holding you witness to the moment. Stop. Cigarette smoke lies thick on your tongue, cherry chapstick and the acidic tang of alcohol bitter on your lips. The last moments, the sheer desperation of someone trying to hold on a moment longer, fighting against a slowing heartbeat. You echo the sentiment: I am alive I am alive I am alive—

“They’re ready for you on set!”

SUMMARY.

Once a promising young actor, you fell from grace in a fiery blaze that left your name lying in the mud, and your reputation in tatters.

You'd love nothing more than to fade into the background, but the death of your reclusive mentor, a former Hollywood starlet and famed author, thrusts you back into the limelight. A tangled web of secrets and corruption is hiding behind a veil of glitz and glamour, and you're caught in the center of it.

Someone's ghost is begging you to bring them to justice. The public wants to tear you apart. Everyone is lying to you. The walls you built up to protect yourself are starting to fall, and at the end of the day you're not even sure if you can trust yourself.

CUT THE LIGHTS is rated 17+ for themes such as violence, strong language, substance use, and sexual content.

ROMANTIC OPTIONS.

ANDREAS PASHALIDIS | HE/HIM, 32: Fulfilling both the position of manager and (supposedly) bereaved stepson of your late mentor Julia Love, Andreas is the definition of hard-to-read.

Charming, charismatic, and witty, the fact that his coffee is always perfectly brewed is the least suspicious thing about him. Andreas knows far more than he's letting on, and you're starting to realize he's willing to go to any lengths to keep his secrets hidden.

HÉLÈNE VINCENT | SHE/HER, 25: Best known for her portrayal of the main character Arabella on the titular series Contact, Hélène was your media-appointed rival when the two of you were emerging as the next generation of child stars.

Acerbic and irascible, she'd love nothing more than to see your head delivered on a silver platter. You're not sure where it all went wrong. The both of you used to be Julia's protégés.

SENALI/SHIHAN PRIYASAD | SELECTABLE, 29: Former model and current lead singer of the band The Euphorics, they're practically your polar opposite. Loved nearly universally, S is award-winning, creative, and extremely good at anything they set their mind to.

Confident and ambitious, they're drawn to you for unknown reasons. The glint in their eyes tells you that their offer of friendship might not entirely be out of altruism though.

??? | SELECTABLE, ??: You'd really like them to stop trying to possess you, thanks.

FEATURES.

A customizable main character. Choose a personality, gender, and appearance.

Build a variety of relationships with the cast of characters.

Solve a mystery spanning decades.

Choice-based story.

A partially epistolary-style format.

LINKS.

PLAY THE DEMO.

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #if game #if wip #twine wip #twine game #cut the lights if

[calisources]

GAME OF THRONES: HISTORIES AND LORE - ROBERT'S REBELLION. all sentences are taken from a mini-web series of hbo's game of thrones with different characters narrating different aspects of the world. this specific sentence memes is made from various videos of perspectives of robert's rebellion. change pronouns, names and locations as seen fit. this is a long post.

By Robert Baratheon.

The crimes of House Targaryen were too heinous to go unanswered.

The noble houses of Baratheon, Stark and Arryn united to oppose and overthrow the line of the cursed Dragon Kings.

We tried to take Ashford Castle in the Reach but the Tyrell’s beat us back.

The Targaryen searched from house to house for Robert Baratheon.

The combined forces of Ned Stark and the Tully's swept into the city guards. What a day that was. It's now known as the Battle of the Bells.

 It was his heir, Rhaegar who started the whole damn thing

Finally emerged from hiding in the south and assembled his own army to face us.

The battle that would decide the fate of the Seven Kingdoms occurred at the crossing of the Green Fork of the Trident River.

Rhaegar commanded the royal host which was some 40,000 strong.

Their  forces were outnumbered by nearly  5000 men but that didn't matter, they were fresh that we were battle-hardened and had justice on our side.

The Stag and The Dragon right there in the fort of the river.

Ned Stark goes to the capital to face the Mad King and make him pay for his crimes.

By Viserys Targaryen.

The Targaryens, Blood of the Dragon and the last of old Valyria were loved by their subjects and admired far and wide as the greatest dynasty in the history of the Western world.

Three centuries of Targaryen rule was shattered by the usurper Robert Baratheon and his band of traitors.

House Baratheon owed its very existence to the Targaryen.

Was it not Aegon the dragon himself who elevated the bastard Orys Baratheon in the war of conquest?

There are some who dare to claim Robert and his allies had reason to rebel.

They say the crown prince stole the usurper's lady love. They say my father King Aerys murdered Rickard Stark and his son without just cause.

Whether these charges are true or not? It doesn’t matter if the dragon answers to no one.

Aerys' good name has been besmirched in the years since the Rebellion. He’s been called a dangerous madman, a monster, a tyrant that brought  his tragic end upon himself.

My father was a victim of weaklings in his Council, lackwits who failed him in his hour of need and let the rebellion spin out of control.

At the Battle of the Trident, it was there the valiant Rhaegar met Robert in single combat but the gods betrayed him, and he perished by the usurper’s hand.

The Battle of the Trident seemed to herald the end of the Dragon kings.

I was the surviving heir to the throne. 

He sent me to the island fortress of Dragonstone along with my mother Queen Rhaella who was great with child.

King Aerys Targaryen prepared to defend his throne to the bitter end.

By Oberyn Martell.

 House Martell could have waged war until the end of days.

His royal parents had not produced a sister for him to wait, so he had to look elsewhere for a princess and there was only one in Westeros. Elia of house Martell.

She was not the most beautiful woman in the world or even in Dorne but rare for a woman from our land.

Her flower came with no thorns. She was kind and clever with a gentle heart.

I loved her, I feared for her for years I fended off lesser men from her but when Rhaegar came even I failed.

He was beautiful and the crown prince of the Seven Kingdoms and our mother had worked so hard to secure the match.

They were wed and he took her from her home from those who loved her and would die for her and locked her in his red keep.

She bore him a daughter and a son though, each almost cost her her life.

Elia loved Rhaegar, she obeyed him and he chose to steal away Lyanna Stark.

A pale northern girl whose veins ran with ice like all her people.

 instead of disciplining his faithless son, King Aerys executed the Starks when they came seeking justice.

Even in his madness he knew that no true Dornishmen would ever take up arms against our beloved princess and that we would fight to the death.

Prince Rhaegar, who was too slow or too arrogant for Robert's Warhammer.

Lord Tywin's Army sacked his friend's city while Lord Tywin's son  murdered the king he'd sworn to protect.

War is terrible and men must become terrible to wage it.

Lord Tywin's dog Ser Gregor Clegane the mountain, made Elia watch as he murdered her daughter and dashed her infant son's head against a wall.

With her baby's blood still on his hands he raped my sister and murdered her.

By Catelyn Tully/Stark.

Brandon Stark of Winterfell sought and won my hand.

Brandon was heir to the north and a suitable match for a daughter of house Tully.

Brandon was wild and terrifying, never far from laughter or trouble.

I loved him with all the fire of her first passion.

Prince Rhaegar Targaryen abducted Brandon's sister Lyanna. Hot-blooded as always, Brandon immediately rode for King's Landing to demand justice.

Brandon's younger brother, a man whom I had never met though of whom none spoke ill or spoke anything at all.

I spent the war by the windows waiting for a raven to hear if my son would grow up fatherless or at all. We knew the price of defeat.

When he came home to me he could not meet my eyes. I saw the reason by his side.

Many  men have bastards, I know, and under the strain of war any man no matter how honorable may forsake his vows for a night of warmth that he may never know again.

Ned Stark was not built like other men. His northern honor would not let him sequester his shame in some distant holdfast.

These bitter memories are sweet now they are all I have left of my Ned.

The Starks are of the North and like the snows of winter when they come south they melt away.

By Ser Jaime Lannister.

Kingslayer. A word every man and woman in Westeros spits at me, though many can't even name the king I slayed.

 I understand to them,  I'm a symbol of everything they'll never have and a warning that'll

never apply.

When a  dog goes mad we put it down. Why not a King?

I was never supposed to be on the Kingsguard. 

Oh as a boy I dreamed of the white cloak like all boys.

If Tywin Lannister forbade the tides, the waves would cease.

She could arrange for the king to raise me to the Kingsguard so I could stay in the city with her.

Is it a rock you want or me? Come morning she had my consent.

 I would join the Kingsguard for her. I would force my lands and title for her. I would forsake our family for her.

Everything started to fall apart at Harrenhal.

King Aerys made a great show of my investiture.

I admit despite my father's anger I was happy and foolish.

He commanded me to return to the Red Keep to guard the Queen and little Prince Viserys. 

The Mad King had chosen me to spite my father and steal his heir. I wanted to rip off the white cloak but it was too late.

I kept the King's secrets when his Pyromancer said caches of wildfire beneath King's Landing.

It fell to me to hold the red keep.

Royal Command,  bring me your father's head if you were no traitor.

Burn them, burn them all he kept muttering.

As I approached the throne, sanity flashed behind the King's eyes for a moment just long enough to read the look in mine.

He turned and ran, a single thrust was all it took to end the greatest dynasty the world had ever seen.

The last dragon king squealed like a pig and shat himself so easily. I thought a king should die harder than this.

I knew at once when I saw the way they looked at me I would be blamed.

I commanded them to announce that the Mad King was dead and to spare all those who yielded 

They asked me if they should proclaim a new king as well. I knew what they meant. Would it be my father or Robert Baratheon? or maybe the charred verse

Proclaim who you bloody well like

I climbed the steps of the Iron Throne and sat on it with my sword.

#rp meme #sentences memes #meme call #roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. ) #rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #roleplay meme #got meme #game of thrones memes #i tried to get the more distinct perspectives of the war #so targaryens baratheons tully/stark martells #and jaime #i know this is so long damn

[cloudninetonine]

Meanwhile in another universe

If someone had asked you five years ago what you thought you’d be doing, you knew for a fact it was nowhere near this. The familiar feeling of free fall took over in the split seconds, between the peak of one swing and the descent of the next, accompanied by the welcomed sound of THWIP as a web shot out from your wrist. From behind the mask, you could see the flashing marker on the small hud getting closer as the buildings blurred by. Chatter from the dispatch was quick to note that an unwanted visitor cloaked in black had begun terrorizing the downtown area. 

The newly acquired watch attached to your nondominant hand also chimed a warning of dimensional activity, which caused you to swing with a bit more urgency as the scene below you came into clearer focus. There was the typical damage of wrecked cars and scattered debris but glancing around the space there seemed to be no physical signs of dimensional glitching. Coming to a stop with a quick flick of the wrist, the movement was instinctive as the dive ended with a crouch on top of a seemingly abandoned cruiser nearby. “Let’s see who’s up this week on the Price is Right….” 

Looking again at the destruction before you it was easy to note that whatever fight had occurred here it had been nasty and quick. This amount of damage and lack of civilians or law enforcement usually meant this wasn’t just one of the Sinister Six; this was a bit more dangerous than Weaver would’ve liked to admit. The fighting image of a black suit identical to their own with much larger teeth made a brief shudder run down your spine. Gracefully dismounting from your current perch a series of questions quickly formed.

 “Lyla, any reported anomalies of missing symbiotes in Earth-9800?”

The familiar hologram of a young woman in a large furred coat glanced at you over heart-shaped rims. “No reports currently, but…I’m not getting a clear reading. You haven’t changed any settings on your device have you?”

 “Are you kidding me? After the threat from wanna-be Dracula, I haven’t even changed the watch-band size on this thing.” Walking towards the plaza center, a tap at the temple zoomed in on the gaping hole where the entrance to Fisk Tower stood nearby. Smoke seemed to roll out of the doorway accompanied by the occasional spark of damaged light fixtures. A sigh escaped you, the decision was made, “If you could report back to HQ I have a possible venom symbiote loose and I’m entering into pursuit, that’d be great.” 

“Weaver, I’d consider waiting for backup, I can get Brown or Parker here in minutes. Besides after the last encounter you had I don’t think backup would be a bad idea.”

 Scoffing a bit at the reply, the bitterness that entered your tone was something that couldn’t be helped. “Yeah well, you all didn’t seem to be concerned until after it was finished so I’m just as well off going in solo.” Cutting off whatever reply Lyla attempted to make, it was easy to miss an unfamiliar glitch, a corrupted collection of three small triangles, before the watch’s screen returned to normal. Getting inside hadn’t been an issue; a quick web up into the ceiling where the smoke gathered and lights flickered and it was easy to blend into the shadows. It was even easier to stay out of sight as you made your way into the lobby and began the ascent into the upper floors of the building, following the path of destruction. Concrete and glass were shattered and scattered among the smoking remains, and the feeling of uneasiness in your gut only increased with every level passed. 

It was just as they approached the door to the R&D labs that all the nerves in their body jolted to life in a familiar warning. LOOK OUT. Slamming your body as flat as possible onto the ceiling, Weaver watched with wide eyes as some sort of black shroud rolled through the floor and chased after a group in lab coats, desperately running from whatever this creature behind them was. The doors groaned as whatever this thing was smashed into them with haste to chase after the group sending the doors careening toward their cowering forms. Not wasting any more time while the thing was distracted, one web shooter quickly secured a hold on the wrecked doors to a nearby wall, while the other secured their quick descent to the creature that ended with their legs hitting something much more solid within the cover of the dark shroud.

 Not pausing even as a grunt was heard from whatever was struck, the kick was followed with two punches before dropping into a crouch to sweep whatever this thing was off its feet. “Alright Smokey, time for a new dance partner. But let’s agree to make this quick, I’ve got plans and you have a one-way express ticket home.” The thing, which had somehow recovered much more quickly than anticipated, slowly began to take a more humanoid shape but the glaring difference from any symbiote was the crimson eyes that flared back at you from its still-shifting facial features. You could only imagine that the eyes on your suit were wide in surprise. 

What in the fresh hell was this thing? 

Wisps of black smoke seemed to drift off of the figure and dissipate in the air. It was easy to fall into a familiar stance, already poised to counter whatever this thing decided to throw at them. But it seemed that the surprise wasn’t over yet as the figure only growled out in annoyance 

“You’re not the one I’m looking for.” 

“Haunting, truly, but I’m not wanting to get into what villain of the week issue you have going on.” A look of disbelief combined with confusion crossed its face before a small, web-shaped disk slid beneath its feet, encasing it in the familiar red-tinted energy containment. Quickly calling back on your watch you tapped a few inputs of data into the holographic field report form that had materialized. “Weaver to Lyla, the variant has been contained and ready for pick up. I honestly have no clue which Spider it belongs to but give my condolences in advance for having to deal with the Spirit Halloween stan.”

 A strong thump noise coming from the direction of the containment cell had you glancing over to see a sizable dent in the energy field wall that, to your knowledge, should’ve been impossible to dent or even damage. Watching as the creature began rearing back with a snarl to seemingly attack its cage once more, a warning from your spider-sense quickly made you retreat backwards just as the containment cell shattered. The blast of energy was enough to send you stumbling backward as you shot a web at the floor in an attempt to hold on. Your vision clouded behind your mask and pain quickly grew in your temples, before everything seemingly stopped. Opening your eyes and blinking, you were shocked to see whatever this thing was back in a formless shroud of black, slipping into a triangle-shaped portal before it disappeared, leaving you standing in the middle of the wrecked building. Looking down at the residual energy reading coming from your bracelet, you sigh.  Why do I get the feeling that that thing knew me? Trying your best to ignore the shiver down your spine with the pieces of the destroyed containment tech in your hands, a more familiar hexagonal portal flashing with color opened in front of you as you stepped towards it. Seems you needed to have a word with HQ if their equipment was going to malfunction on the job.

 Bonus: Weaver Art ft. that bastard from the amazing @delomaniaofficial 

__________

HEALTH THIS WAS FUCKING AMAZING AND WITH NILO’S AMAZING ILLUSTRATIONS!?!? I’M BARKING FOR REAL

I knew you would use our call for good OAIUDG AND GOODNESS YOU HAVE GIVEN ME

#submission #cloud answers

[mandareeboo]

Title: Oh, but I'm not bitter, I'm just tired

Summary: Mammon has a bad dream about losing Bon Bon.

Excerpt:

People who don't know shit about blood think it flows like water. It doesn't. It's grimy and grubby like molasses, clinging to his outfit like an adoring fan with a blade. Mammon is as old as Hell itself, and that means his blood comes out black and sluggish, dripping to the cobblestone in pathetic dribbles that will dry and crumble in minutes. He's not worried about being stabbed. Just makes him a bit whoozy, is all. He'll be on his feet in a few hours. The same can't be said of the sobbing infant in the bastard's arms. "C'mon, mate. Ye can't tell me yer hankerin' to kill an ankle biter." Mammon holds out his hands in silent prayer, pleading. "Give 'er over." The exorcist looks at him like gum under his heel. They always do. Greed's not usually a target during the yearly exterminations, but it's not exactly a far drive from Pride, neither. The angel plucks a delicate feather from Bon Bon's wing, holding it to the reddish light. Bon Bon shrieks and he winces. "Since when do your kind interbreed?" "She's not mine," Mammon lies. Lies because Bon Bon is not biologically his, not his daughter and barely even his niece, and that's just good business sense. Sins can't have kids- it always ends up the same. "Children are a gift from the Lord. They are a reward from Him." Sizzling blackness leaves Mammon's maw as he speaks the old Psalm, burning his tongue. Holy words aren't for Sins either.

For a friend! I was really excited to explore Mammon's mind for this bad boy. Call me a Psychonaut, because I went hog wild!

Commissions Are Open! || Ko-fi

#Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss Fanfic #Helluva Boss Fanfiction #Oh but I'm not bitter I'm just tired #Mammon #Fizzarolli #Asmodeus #Bon Bon #Fanfic #Fanfiction

[wundrousarts]

Various Nevermoor thoughts and things I've noticed after rereading the book for yet another time:

aka, everything that made me put something in the Discord or on here

— Cadence's braid is twisted up into a knot during the Book Trial, unlike the usual braid down she's often depicted with

— "Threads" of Wunder, the Gossamer being a "web", and the Wundrous Art of "Weaving"..... so fun! I need to look for more stuff related to Weaving and other Arts as I reread the other books

— Given Wunsoc’s motto of Containment & Distraction and the history of the Yule Queen and St Nick learning Arts in Sub-Nine, I wonder if the annual Christmas Eve Battle is purely entertainment for the masses or if it’s a distraction from something as well?

—— It’s in Courage Square… what if, if there is a Ghostly Hour there (of the massacre or of a related event), the Battle distracts folks from the possibility finding it? I’m team “it happened on the last day of the year” and not Christmas, but still 🤔 much to think about whenever that location comes up

—— If it is a distraction, it could also be a distraction for another part of the city just because it gathers everyone to one place and they’re less likely to be elsewhere

— Mog and Jack fighting but then convening a few days later to dump out their Christmas stockings together and trade the contents is Peak sibling behavior and I love them for that

— The picture that Dame Chanda is like “oh don’t cancel me but he’s hot” about Squall isn’t a photograph but a print of a painting. I wonder if more paintings of more Wundersmiths exist anywhere and if Mog could find them, or if they were all burned or something

—— I’d love if by the end of the series Mog has renewed the reputation of Wundersmiths and gets a new portrait done of her that’s hung up somewhere, this time where she looks healthy and happy, as a contrast to her bitter Hall of Dead Crows portrait from before

— Fen licking the side of Mog's face when she's crying <3

— Squall is so dramatic making the tiles of the Wunderground station turn black as he turns around lmao

— Aside from the obvious the obvious danger of the gathering, Squall describing Cursed Children dying on Eventide as a “mercy” and his whole “we do what we’re asked because we have to because we’re Wundersmiths” speech in Hollowpox, I wonder if part of why he wants there to be no more Wundersmith anymore and the Courage Square Revolt was because he was against the Society / government / Nevermoor using Wundersmiths from a young age for their own desires and gains. Anti child labor in the worst possible way lol

#nevermoor #nevermoor reread #nevermoor theory #the fact that you can’t make indents in tumblrs bulleted lists meaning I have to DIY them is so annoying #left this in my drafts and so now it’s posting while it’s mog’s birthday in australia. yayy. #<- I’m a loser that likes to celebrate fictional characters birthdays #anyways if anyone has any thoughts on any of these points + wants to talk more feel free to reblog or otherwise my asks are always wide ope