#Amoral Deity

[redacted-coiner]

Moral Deity , Amoral Deity , Immoral Deity

Death Deity , Moribund Deity , Life Deity

DNI is listed within my pinned post. Please go read it before interacting with any part of my content. Ask to tag!

[ooooo-mcyt]

"Grian as amoral/immoral deity figure-" sure but have you ever considered the thematic implications of a human pulled into a state of being they were never meant to inhabit? Having a million eyes and burning like the sun but possessing a human heart that was never meant to be and can never become anything but human? Loving every moment of mortality they can grasp onto? Willingly competing in death games? Willingly refusing to use the powers they possess? Willingly loving? Because ones form of existence doesn't change who they are, and Grian didn't ever stop being human, he just lost the right to comfortably call himself one, and that's a worse fate than any of the pains of living.

[aphrodite-in-culture]

Gary Choo Immortal Aphrodite from Fortnite, 2024

[morselmint]

Apollon and Amor (1891) - Ján Fadrusz

Gallery of City Bratislava (Galéria mesta Bratislavy,GMB) - Slovak Republic

[ianitos]

(this is upg & ‼️ contains adult themes)

the epithets & aspects of amor 💕🕯️🏹

aspects

love/heartbreaks guide ≻ amor/cupid is most well known for being the bearer of loves arrows, spreading love across the world with his golden arrows. but he is also known for causing heartbreak by his lead arrows.

mischievous love ≻ known for his youthful appearance and mischievous behavior in myths, amor can be known to cause chaos, mischief and even strife by utilizing love.

guardian of sex ≻ in contrast to his mischievous aspect, amor is the guardian and guide to reclaiming your sexuality, identity and comprehending your relationship with sex.

epithets

"Lovesick"

"Steady Shot"

"Guardian of LGBT"

"Wing of Youth"

"Breaker of Hearts"

"Tears of Diamonds"

"of Love"

"Bearer of Passion"

"the Erotic"

"Sweet Sensual"

"Lover of Mine"

"of Eroticism and Sex"

"Mischievous Boy"

"Anarchy for Her"

"Destructive Love"

"the Obsessed"

"Unrequited Love"

"Strife Arrow"

"Tears and Grief"

"Primal Eroticism"

"of Lust and Sex"

"Lovely, Handsome"

"Bittersweet"

"Loveliest"

"Most Beautiful"

"Avenger"

[pixeldotgamer]

(Art request)

:gun emoji: og Amor /nf

And maybe cawyn too if you're up to it idk I just miss our gorls /nf

pulling up her og design from that good ol session 1 made me remember she was like barely 20 before her entire life fell apart 😬

[divinamour]

Her presence is usually announced by the rhythmic plucking of strings. A chorus of the faithful letting their heartstrings sing out, as strummed by her ever-cradling fingers. Her presence is a kindness no matter how she’s sounded, even when she arrives humbly and silently, as she has today.

  A seat taken at this young woman’s side, the Cora-Mater sighed softly. Weight of a billion worlds easing off of her back, as she lowers her shawl slightly. Taking corporeal form was a triviality she usually left to her children, but the act of ‘appearing as a warm light and a guiding voice from within’ had... equal odds of disturbing as it did inspiring. 

    “Ah, you don’t mind if I take this seat, do you?” Turning toward @mypralaya, she smiled as if she were gazing upon one of her own children, brimming with an unbridled joy. “I won’t be long, honest. I just need a moment to catch my breath~”

THE CALL

[duckimate]

lost longing for someone you can't recall, but that someone's a faraway deity

"The ancient gods changed men to things, but left them A consciousness that smoldered endlessly, That splendid sorrows might endure forever. And you are changed into a memory."

so ! fanart for solar eclipse au by none other than THE @mochiwrites. but i switched the concept around?? (au of an au. woah)

.SPOILERS!!. spoiLERS!!!! I SAID SPOILERS. .

.

.

instead of solara being punished and casted down to earth for reincarnation it was proteus instead <333

yes i know amor solis takes place in a more modern setting but personally mumbo k jumbo with his vest and tie and british glory gave me more of a painter than sculptor vibe (artistic boyfriends,,,)

bros drawing his lover from his past life when he cant even recall any of those memories <3

[lucky-clover-gazette]

okay i have THOUGHTS about this line

he didn’t have to say that to make his plan work. i mean yeah, being nice to the player definitely earns their favor and future assistance, but he could have just as easily gone the route of gaslighting them into feeling bad and like they caused the problem, eliciting a more shame-based and desperate and less uplifting and righteous kind of reliance. like if volo really hated the player, and was truly cruel, that’s what he would have done. the player would have still gotten the chain and felt indebted to him for the plate hunt, but they also would be miserable and feel lonely and hurt and confused. but volo doesn’t do that, he grounds the player and validates their feelings, which were hurt by the cruel townspeople more than the event volo caused to prompt that cruelty. like truly, it’s only volo’s fault that the player gets banished through the most like simple calculated logic—yes, if he hadn’t caused the rift, they wouldn’t have been banished, or brought here at all. but kamado CHOSE to banish them based on his own paranoia and disdain for outsiders, and the others enabled it by choice. volo didn’t make that happen, just how he didn’t make or even want arceus to get the player involved in the first place.

i don’t think volo hates the player, personally, at all. or at least, i think that he hates them and cares for them just as much as he hates and cares for himself. i know this isn’t groundbreaking volo theorizing material, but he’s absolutely projecting his disdain for society based on his vague past experiences here. he dislikes the outsider because his plan demands it, but he dislikes everyone else because he personally thinks they’re terrible. it’s kinda neat how he “fake” compliments the player’s loyalty to him as a merchant so often, bc i think loyalty is something he actually takes very seriously. and he probably saw how loyal the player was to the galaxy team, and then the way they kicked them out, and was genuinely pissed and hurt on the player’s behalf.

the things he says at the end of the game are said in extreme distress and defeat, and while they are not NOT reflective of his character and motives, i’m shocked by how many pokemon fans regard volo like he’s a nihilistic and amoral sociopath. passion and compassion are behind nearly everything volo does, for better or for worse. they’re behind moments like this, and moments like his ranting at spear pillar. he is a person who constantly grapples to align his personal moral code and lofty ideals, which live in this weird space between the manmade and divine, with the flawed reality of existence. his entire mentality is full of contradictions, because he is a man who thinks he should be god, but in reality could never be a good god, because he is still very much a man. it’s the emotion, idealism, and intellectual curiosity of humanity that drive him, not the impartiality, absolutism, and complacency of an omnipotent all-knowing deity.

so like, with this line. he specifically mentions that the galaxy team has treated the player poorly. not that the galaxy team’s choice was illogical, not that the player just needs to try harder to get them to accept him. he is emphatically rejecting the premise that the player did anything to deserve blame, even though he has no intention to actually explain why this really happened or volunteer himself to take the blame. because ultimately, volo is not the person to blame for the galaxy team’s cruelty, and he knows it. and he also knows that it’s the cruelty that has hurt the player, more than the sky problem itself, because he has been treated like an outsider too. and he can’t DO anything about that. even if he told the truth, the damage has already been done. the player knows how their supposed allies would react in this situation, regardless of the logic or truth. and volo can’t fix that. he does not believe he can make people kinder or the world a better place, which is exactly why he wants so badly to remake it. for himself, bc clearly he’s been through some shit too, for people like the outsider, and for anyone else whose loyalty and dedication have been met with rejection and apathy. which is so deeply tragic and ironic, because by being the only person to care for the player in this moment, he is making the world a better place for them.

volo is, at his core, a hypocrite. he’s like if you put the ingredients for a hero into a blender, but accidentally used the “tragic hypocrite” setting so he came out a janky villain instead. to volo, concepts like loyalty and self-righteousness are driving forces, much moreso than simple black and white morality or consequentialism. this makes him a hypocrite because he believes a perfect world is possible as long as his moral code is strictly followed, and his evil plan is to prove it. but in his efforts to do so, he proves over and over again that a perfect world isn’t possible, and certainly would not be possible under his control.

like, okay—if someone suggested that the means of pain and suffering in the world justified the ends (the world), volo would disagree and claim that arceus is responsible for the pain and suffering, and therefore does not deserve the power to create/rule worlds. but then, following that very same logic, if volo needed to get a random person banished and betrayed in order to create his better world, then those means wouldn’t justify his ends either. which is WHY we see him subconsciously draw a line here, between the things he’s not responsible for (other people being cruel, arceus transporting the player) and the things he is directly responsible for (the way he treats the player in these circumstances, either with derision or support). and wouldn’t you know, in this instance where it truly is up to him what the means are to his ends, he chooses kindness where he could have been cruel. because while arceus sending the hero and the town banishing them weren’t really Volo’s means to Volo’s ends, this conversation sure as hell could be. And he doesn’t want his better world built on a foundation of suffering and pain.

by saying this one line and treating the player as he does here, i think volo accidentally exposes something deeply true and good about himself. this man could say “i’m a villain and i don’t care about the player” and fully believe it, but at the same time demonstrably possess the morals and compassion of a hero, which he uses to actively care for the player. he is a delusional hypocrite, but he’s definitely not heartless. and i just think that’s neat.

alternatively, volo is completely heartless, knows that people are endeared to people who want to protect them, and methodically uses that knowledge here for his convenience. that very well could have been the intention, and it makes sense too—but i personally enjoy entertaining the notion of depth where i see potential for it. so yeah.

[redacted-coiner]

Amoral Deity

[PT: Amoral Deity]

Other labels contain, Amoral God, Amoral Goddess, Amoral Xeity, Amoral Fewity, and Amoral Odity. This is under the Deity Umbrella(link)!

A flag for those who a Amoral deity, a deity of amorality, a deity who is the embodiment of morals (both moral and immoral), a deity of the moral judgment, etc. This can be kin, delusion, religious beliefs, etc. anyone who can fall under this and anyone can use it!

[ID: none yet]

[Tagging] @radiomogai and @liom-archive

DNI is listed within my pinned post. Please go read it before interacting with any part of my content. Ask to tag.

[moonstruck-poet]

Survive pt. 2

Pairing - Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Summary - Because of your job as a crime officer, a particularly dangerous mission has both you and your husband on the edge.

Warnings - blood, kidnapping, violence, torture, crying.

The drive to the target site was spent in nothing but silence. Your team of four settled in a car, all geared up with bulletproof vests, guns in your holsters and minds racing continuously.

Everybody's heart had a different rhythm to the other. Yours, quite surprisingly had a steady thump, Jess had started tapping her foot again which indicated to her irregular breathing, while the other two boys seemed as if they were going through all the seven stages of grief at once.

Nobody batted an eye when the driver informed them that they'll reach their destination in about five minutes. All just wordlessly pulling out their phones to give their loved ones a final text before departing.

You pulled out Carlos' contact, your fingers doing a little dance as you contemplated on what to write.

Hello love, will start work soon enough, thought of letting you know.

Te quiero mucho, mi vida. Síempre. Y te prometo que te veré pronto, amor <3

[I love you so much, my life. Always. And I promise I'll see you soon, love]

You exhaled deeply before pocketing your phone and looking at your teammates who were still messaging their family and you felt a tug at your heart. You clenched your jaw, internally making a promise to bring every one of these three people back home.

"Ready?" You questioned once the car had halted at the decided place, a quick scan of the area was done before you opened the door, waiting for them.

"Always boss," Chris, the baby of the group gave you a lopsided smile, ruffling his hair and stretching out his arms quickly.

"In we go then guys," you finally muttered, sending a quick prayer to the deity above to watch over them, to let your plan be a success.

As was decided, Elijah and you split from the rest, walking side by side and taking the back entrance to the creepy old hotel while they entered from the front side.

There was absolutely no security which was weird considering that there were atleast twenty boys and girls trapped and held captive. The pair of you moved smoothly onto stage 2, entering the first floor without so much of a disturbance.

"Was this supposed to be this easy?" The Brit whispered, eyes still alert as he held the gun tightly.

"Definitely not," you answered back, feeling some unease crawling up your throat. Suddenly you were grabbed and pulled into a corner, your eyes widening to see Elijah put a finger on his lips and point down the hallway where a door had just opened.

The two of you listened in rapt silence as a burly man stepped out, adorned in lavish jewelleries which confirmed his identity of the leader behind this illegal racket.

He was walking away, blabbering to someone on his phone angrily and you jumped as the door slammed shut from the inside.

Waiting for a few seconds, Elijah let out a breath, stepping away slightly. "Well our intel wasn't wrong then".

You nodded, Jess' voice suddenly interrupted in your ear piece that they had completed the first three stages which were getting in safely, climbing all the way up and locating the rooms where the children were kept.

"Copy that, good job," you muttered, glad that this was falling into place.

"Where should we start first then?" He asked. "Jess and Chris have got the front wing covered. We should probably start evacuation from here itself before moving up".

"I agree, I've also let Stephen know that stage 2 is in motion. He has dispatched the evac forces already".

Saying so, the two of you jogged towards one of the doors, praying with all your might that your information is correct to the dot, you swiped the master key card and it clicked open.

Barely breathing you pushed it with one hand, Elijah covering you from behind while also keeping an eye on the hallway. The door creaked loudly as it slowly swung open, revealing two girls and three boys, all of whom looked to be about nine years of age.

"Jesus," Elijah whispered at the sight of those terrified souls who immediately cowered upon seeing the pistols pointed. Their hands out in front of them, shielding their body as best as they could.

"Please don't be scared," you said, lowering down the gun and trying to give them a smile. "We're- we're from the police, we're gonna get you out of here," you leaned down, hoping to console them.

"We're here to help, buddy," he did a better job at smiling warmly, gently extending his hand forward, waiting for them to trust him. "I promise that you're going home soon".

"Home?" A girl with jet black hair and gorgeous green eyes stuttered. Her build was the smallest out of all, knees pressed against her chest as she shivered and your heart chipped a little.

"Yes, love. I promise," you nodded eagerly, sitting on your toes now. "I need you all to quietly follow Elijah here, he's going to get you downstairs and out. Can you all do that for me?"

"Yes!" They immediately replied, a few grins seen on their previously detached faces making both of you feel hopeful.

"Be safe, Eli," you murmured, ushering them out gently and not letting them out of sight for a second.

He could only nod, his throat tight as he had one arm around the tiny children while the other held onto his gun, ready to kill absolutely anyone that dared to harm a hair on their heads.

You did your job of escorting them to the staircase and amidst your run to the second floor you heard your security department say that the first batch had been rescued without a hitch.

That gave you a small boost of confidence as you began opening yet another door, knowing that there would be at the very least two girls in there. A small smile was already present on your face as you swiped the card and pushed it slightly, only to have it slip from your grip.

The room was empty, there was not one child to be seen. Your eyebrows furrowed as you thoroughly scanned every inch, how on earth could the intel possibly be wrong? The intelligence sector had been rigorously watching every move from the cctv cameras that had been infiltrated. How could their information be wrong when they were monitoring everything that happened-

Unless, you stilled in place, not being able to move as the worst possibility came floating in your brain. Unless you were being made to see these things, because somehow they knew about the intrusion.

The sudden creak of the door had the hair on your arm standing up as you turned swiftly, your heart in your throat at seeing no one there. You didn't waste another minute before getting out of the room and hiding yourself in a safe space to communicate with your team.

"Jess? Status?"

Her response came after about twenty seconds, until which your hands had started sweating as you pondered over the situation.

"Have successfully evacuated three, one boy and two girls. So that makes a total of eight out of twenty".

"Okay, good good, that's good," you repeated, trying to convince yourself. That's when Elijah appeared, breaking you out of your trance and you sighed in relief on seeing him unharmed.

"Oh thank goodness," you got up, still keeping your eyes trained on the hallway. "I think something's wrong, Elijah".

His neck snapped towards you, "What happened?" You recounted the incident to him and he pressed his lips together. "Maybe- maybe it was a mistake on our part," he said, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Both of you knew there was actually no way that such a mistake could happen, but neither was willing to voice out the fears.

"Let's just- let's just look into the others," you said, and after his agreement the two of you sped across, almost reaching the intended door when a scream which suspiciously sounded like a little girl's was heard, loud and haunting.

You halted immediately, looking at each other for a brief second before rushing towards the source, praying with all your might for the situation to not be overly difficult.

"Wait!" You grabbed his arm, forcing him to slow down.

"What?!" He answered, panting slightly.

"We can't go down together, Elijah! There can be a slight possibility that they were expecting us and we're just walking into a trap! You need to keep on searching for the rest, maybe take help from Jess and Chris and atleast bring them to safety".

He considered your statement but appeared unconvinced, "How can I just let you go there all by yourself! You know full well that it's not safe!"

"It's okay," you said hurriedly, realising that you're probably losing time. "I'll be fine just go and gather the rest, and hurry up. I have a very bad feeling about this".

"Please stay safe," he squeezed your hand before rushing up the stairs, giving you a final nod before you two parted ways.

Similarly you rushed towards the scream, not trying to be reckless as you navigated safely through the lobby, both of your hands gripping your gun.

Just as you were going to step out from your hiding spot, you heard Chris' small shout in your ear, a yell from Jess followed quickly and your heart filled with dread with each step you took.

Just as you put a foot outside, your gun was knocked out from your hands and you were slammed down on the floor. A loud groan escaped your lips as you looked at a man smirking, standing above you.

"You people think you're always smarter than us? But we're always a step ahead," he hissed before pulling his leg back and kicking your side. You doubled over in pain before spotting the knife in his hand and barely managing to roll away from his downwards strike.

You got up, stumbling a little as he walked closer. You stayed, waiting until the last second before grabbing his arm and spinning him around while simultaneously hooking your leg around his and dropping him to the floor. Your knee pressed against his back as you twisted his arms, earning a satisfactory scream tear from his lungs. His hands were being turned harshly and a clean crack was heard, signalling the breaking of his wrist.

Swiftly you grabbed the gun lying nearby and shot him on the back of his head, twice just to be sure. You barely had time to take a proper breath before another man had grabbed your waist, his grip tightening as you struggled, finding your footing and ensuring a swift back kick on his shins while your head hit him hard on his nose.

You winced as he was forced to distance himself, your hand rubbing the back of your skull as you noticed the gun in his hand.

"Fuck," was all you could utter as he shot, aiming for your chest and you swerved away, gasping as the bullet buried itself in the sleeve of your arm. Luckily for you, the bulletproof vest was of the best quality.

"Surrender," he growled in anger, clearly not expecting a woman to fight so much.

"You wish," you panted, palms resting on your knees but your eyes were trained on him. Suddenly you rushed forward, knocking the gun out of his hand but he had somehow anticipated it, almost waiting for you to make the first move.

He grinned in triumph after taking hold of your arms and then pressing your back against his chest, the cold metal of the pistol now touching your temporal bone.

You fell silent, hands rising up instinctively as you tried to conserve your energy. Having been in this situation before, you didn't necessarily feel scared, but your heart pumped rapidly, providing you with excess blood as you tried to find a way out.

"Boss?" Chris' voice was heard in your ear and you gulped, not daring to answer as there was a possibility of them not knowing exactly how many members accompanied you.

The next was Elijah, he kept on chanting your name and you heard his panic increase with every repetition. You were merely glad to know that they were alive.

The man holding you had clearly underestimated your strength because he lowered his gun, though maintained a tight around your neck. His other hand fumbled to search for a walkie talkie perhaps, and that was exactly the moment you were waiting for. You grasped the single arm still kept around you and pushed with all of your force, moving it away from your body and swinging him around, releasing at the right time and as expected his body went flying in the wall. The gun was out of your holster and another two bullets were fired successively.

He died within no time, the shots having penetrated his heart twice. But you did not utter a word as you looked at your surroundings, your hands shaking slightly but your feet moved on their own accord, unlocking door after door in search of more kids.

On opening the last one you found a girl, possibly seven years of age sitting on the floor, trembling terribly and you knew she must've heard the devastating sound of gunshots.

"Please don't be afraid," you whispered. And for some reason your throat started burning with an intensity that you had never felt before. Your lower lip wobbled as your emotions went haywire, but you, a master of your training took a deep breath and restricted them cleanly.

"I'm here to take you home," you tried again, cautiously inching closer to the terrified child. Your slightly bloody appearance didn't make your task much easier too.

"You'll take me back to my mummy and daddy?" Tears had started flowing down her pale cheeks as she watched you, a tiny glimmer of hope in her deep brown eyes, and for the second time in just a matter of two hours, an invisible knife chipped off another small piece from your heart.

Hearing her voice brought another thought to your mind, that

"I will," you nodded desperately, swallowing down the huge lump as you opened your arms for her, watching her hesitate for a second before she lunged forward, throwing her fragile body into the security of your arms as she sobbed, her small shoulders moving as she cried and cried.

"Shush darling," you whispered, your voice sounding broken. "I'm going to get you away, you're gonna be home in no time".

"You- You promise?" She stammered, pulling away and looking straight at you. Innocence met responsibility and you wiped her stained face.

"I promise, Anna," you noticed her name on the bracelet and the smile that instantly lit up her face brought a new wave of sadness inside you. This time she embraced you with giddiness, a small laugh escaping her.

You quickly clasped her hand tightly in yours, shielding her body properly and navigating safely to the stairway. You backed off into a corner, giving a long look around before bringing a hand to your earpiece.

"Sophie? Come in".

Her voice responded not even a second later and you rapidly fired instructions, understanding that there was no way you could drop her off yourself, the risk being too high.

You felt a sudden grip on your thigh and looked down to see Anna burying her face in your stomach, fear lighting up inside her as she listened to your conversation.

You placed a warm hand on her shoulder and she looked up, "Where am I going?"

"You're going home, love. I promised you did I not? One of my friends is coming soon, and she'll take you back".

"But what about you?"

"I cannot come with you, darling. You know that there are other children too right?" You questioned gently and she nodded. "I have to help them too".

"But- But what if the bad people find me and lock me up again? I'm scared," her eyes had glossed over and you both turned to see a woman climbing up the stairs, making her quickly hide behind you, her arms hugging your legs.

"Soph," you walked slowly, keeping a hand on her shoulders and smiling slightly at your right hand. She was decked in clothes similar to yours, standing with slight confidence and a strong figure.

"Be very careful, no harm is to come towards her, at any cost," you ordered clearly and she nodded, shrugging off her serious exterior to a warm look as she beckoned Anna closer.

"Run along, love, there's your ride home," you ushered her towards Sophie and the child obeyed, though unwilling to leave you.

"Will I ever see you again?" She whispered, a tremble in her words as she faced you expectantly.

"I'll try my best to," you all but sighed, feeling your heart clench.

"Thank you," the little girl mumbled, fiddling with her fingers and shooting you a small smile before she was taken down the stairs and you watched, pressing your lips together, staying rooted for a minute before dragging your focus back to another pressing issue.

You began opening doors after doors, your hands quivering yet your feet being quite stable, moving on their own accord. There was no one to be seen on the entire floor and you came to a halt, panting slightly as you checked in with your team.

"Elijah?" You inquired, your heartbeat increasing again because it had been a long time since you had heard from any one of them.

"Oh hey I'm alive," came his slightly strained voice.

"What's wrong?" You shot back immediately, your foot tapping against the floor as anxiety started settling deep in your chest.

"Nothing just an incident. We ran into some unwelcome guests and unfortunately one of them jabbed a knife in my bicep".

"Jesus Elijah," you swore, massaging your temple. "What about the others?"

"They're all fine, a couple of bruises here and there but all breathing. How are you, boss?"

"I-" you trailed off, the words not coming your aid as you contemplating on how to describe. "I'm fine don't worry. Got another girl to safety".

"Oh yeah we got five boys down too. We scanned the entire front wing, there's nothing here that hasn't been taken care of. Let's head down to the basement just to be sure".

"Yeah I'll be there in five-"

You were cut off by a loud bang made by a rifle and you jumped, pressing yourself against a wall and ducking behind a corner.

"What was that?" Elijah asked urgently, clearly having heard the sound.

"Slight delay in plans, you go ahead and I'll make sure to join".

"Not so soon," the muscular guy spoke through gritted teeth, his hands handling the gun as he started taunting you. "Come out you pathetic woman. Imagine having the guts to infiltrate a building only to be left all alone to die".

"Cannot relate I suppose," a new voice spoke and you felt dread rising in your lungs. There was no way that you could handle these armed men right now. Well you could but the aftermath would be bad.

"You cannot escape now," one of them laughed sinisterly, a malicious smirk on his face as you stepped out from your spot, arms once again raised in surrender.

"Look at you," he spoke, throwing the rifle to his friend and walked closer. "Shame that I have orders to kill an exquisite beauty," he said, chuckling and casually on the way to place his hands on your waist but you snapped, holding both arms and twisting them directly behind, making the said person groan loudly and you heard the unmistakable click of the rifle being loaded.

"It's okay Jer," he grinned, massaging his shoulders as you once again displayed no harm. "A feisty little thing, aren't you?"

You simply glared harshly, your stance radiating power a startling contrast to your palms raised parallel to your head.

"Ooh the beauty is married too huh?" The other man, Jer gestured towards the ring adorning your finger.

"Oh? Who's the lucky guy... missus?"

Rather abruptly, Jer had locked your arms and pressed you against him, making sure to block any leg movements too. "This is gonna make it all the more fun," he sighed before inhaling deeply, nuzzling his nose in your neck as you wordlessly struggled.

The second man who had been watching the interaction stepped inches away from you, his eyes raking your figure up and down, his expression the epitome of sin. He licked his lips slightly and a strange shiver travelled down your spine, a foreign fear began creeping up.

He leaned closer, on the verge of brushing his lips on your own but you threw your head forward, hitting him squarely on his nose and almost succeeding in breaking it.

"You fucking bitch-" was the only warning you had before he removed a blade, not even thinking twice as he made a strike on your neck.

A small yell was heard as you felt the blood slowly oozing down. It wasn't a deep cut by any means, but it was long as hell. The motherfucker had made sure to inflict maximum pain.

He then sliced the sleeve of your vest, effectively cutting past the shirt underneath and digging into your skin. This time you didn't even hiss, biting your tongue and focusing on breathing properly.

Your eyes were closed for a mere few seconds, but that was all it took for him to go find a fucking iron rod from god knows where. You looked at him warily, not bothering to say anything because you knew it was inevitable.

And how right you were.

The first blow came and landed on your legs, knocking you off your feet as you dropped down, grabbing your calf and curling into a ball, your face the definition of pain. You falling down was apparently what he wanted because he began hitting you like a madman. The second hit was aimed at your back, another one on your stomach, the next one on the quadricep muscles as you groaned with every shot.

The pain strangely didn't last long probably because you were extremely high on adrenaline.

And as if literally beating you to death wasn't enough, he opened the room behind and your focus was diverted, pulse racing as he held a young boy hostage, pressing the blade against his jugular.

"Don't touch him," you rasped, your face contorting in pain as Jer made a cut on your body, this time beneath your neck, right atop your clavicle.

"Then you better give us what we want, sweetheart," he threatened, not sparing the shaking boy any amount of pity.

You looked at the boy, his eyes wide as tears kept streaming down his cheeks. Your heart ached with his every struggle and you looked wildly at his captor, almost burning holes with your stare.

"We're right behind you, cap," Chris' voice was soft in your ears and you almost cried in relief. God bless their impeccable timing.

What happened next was a literal blur of events. Your teammates had gloriously interrupted the capture and you used the distraction caused to haul the trapped boy in your arms, stepping backward to safety as you caught the gun thrown towards you. But the others had easily managed to overpower the two men and the criminals laid dead at your feet.

"Jesus Christ, love," Jess spoke and cupped your face, helping you sit straighter as she looked at your shirt being smeared in blood. The number of bruises which she guessed had definitely started turning black and blue.

"Oh god are you alright?" Elijah hurried over and knelt down in front of you, gently moving your legs to keep them straight.

"I'm fine you lot," you said heavily, resting your head back against the wall as you breathed. "You don't look much better yourselves".

They just shrugged, having got over their bodies stained with dried blood, some scratches here and there, bruises littering their skin. Chris even had a bullet half wedged in his arm that had thankfully not run deep.

The boy sitting beside you had his face buried in your arm the entire time, holding your hand as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

"Hey buddy," Elijah whispered softly and all of you turned towards him, watching as he cautiously lifted his head to look at everyone.

"Hi," he replied, shortly.

"Are you hurt?" Chris asked, taking out the first aid kid from his backpack and applying some cream on a small bruise on the side of his head.

"You sure we're done?" You asked Jess, a wave of exertion falling over you as you struggled to stand up straight, Elijah immediately leaning forward to your rescue.

"Yep, our tech team confirmed it. We also found a hidden camera, one that hadn't been infiltrated by us. That's probably how they knew our whereabouts so quickly".

You nodded, wincing as you stood on your feet. Feeling a little proud as you looked at your team having managed to go through hell and still be alive and breathing.

"Thank you," you smiled softly, "All of you".

"Thank you cap'n," Chris grinned, embracing you in his special bear hug and you complied, feeling only comfort as pain became secondary.

"Let's go then?" Elijah questioned carrying the young boy in his arms, his lips twitching slightly too and you agreed.

====================================

"Oh god," was all Stephen could utter when you sauntered into your building, all four of you bloody, with your own unique bruises here and there.

"Hey there," Chris smirked and the rest followed, earning a disbelieving shaking of head from your dear boss.

"I- You know what just let's get you all patched up," he muttered, fussing over everyone like a father as the medical team rushed in.

"We're okay," Elijah smiled, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the various bruises to which he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Fine my foot," he grumbled, assisting the nurses in any way that he could.

"What matters though is that the mission was accomplished," Jess interjected with a huge grin as though her shin did not just have a massive injury that was currently getting cleaned.

"Anything you'd like to add?" He huffed, turning towards you which quickly faded as he saw your pale face. "Hey what's wrong?"

At his address everyone sharply turned their necks towards you, their smiles falling on seeing your eyes becoming hazy.

"She's just lost a lot of blood," the nurses informed. "The cuts though not being deep were too many in number, thus resulting in dizziness. Don't worry, sir, she'll be completely fine".

"You're not getting rid of me that soon, Cap," your low voice was heard, slightly croaky in nature.

"I wouldn't have it the other way, kid," he answered, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. "I can't thank you enough".

You chuckled a little, swallowing through your extremely dry throat and opening your eyes, "It wasn't me alone. I would've died had it not been for those three".

"Stop," Elijah cut you off, clenching his jaw at the thought of you dying. He had idolised you, looked up to you since his trainee days. "Don't say that".

"You know it's the truth, Eli".

He shook his head, "What matters is that we're all here, alive".

"God I'm so relieved," Chris let out a shaky breath and was hugged by Jess who nodded sympathetically, holding the cross around her neck in reverence.

"I can't wait to get back home," she murmured, sighing as her wounds had been bandaged up.

Home. The word was enough to snap your eyes open. Home. You wanted to go home.. right now.

You looked down at your bruised body and saw that most of the wounds had been taken care of, you downed some painkillers given and immediately swung to your feet, ignoring the slight wave of dizziness.

"Woah there soldier, easy now," Stephen said, worry etched on his face.

"I need to call my husband-" you started, trying to control your once again racing heart. "Please- I- Can I call him?"

"Hey," he said, a strange look on his face as he looked at you. "Of course you can, but you need to calm yourself down first yeah? Breathe with me now".

You followed his actions, inhaling and exhaling rhythmically. Soon enough you were back to normal again and you slumped down in the chair, holding your head in your hands.

"Give your body time to heal," Jess frowned, walking over to run your shoulders as you heaved deeply and gulped before nodding.

"I'll just talk to him quickly, we'll- then we'll go through the remaining procedures," you couldn't forget your duty in the face of emotions. That wasn't what you had trained for.

"Take all the time you need," he reassured. "All of you please, go on have a chat".

You didn't need to be told twice as you walked to your cabin, sitting in the chair and pulling out your phone after a total of 8 hours. It had been utterly and completely exhausting.

You dialled his number, holding your breath and your foot began tapping against the floor. It rang, once, twice, thrice and-

"Oh darling," came your husband's voice, soft and just how you remembered. And it didn't take much for your eyes to well up with tears again as you closed them, keeping them at bay. Just focusing your entire being on his voice, because a few hours earlier, you weren't so sure that you'd be able to hear him again.

"Carlos," you whispered, your lip wobbling dangerously as you spoke. "I'm here- I'm back here we succeeded".

"Well done, my love," you could hear his voice shaking too. "I'm so so proud of you- and I just-" he cut himself off and your nose scrunched up as you gritted your teeth.

"Come back home, amor," he urged you, gripping his phone tightly as his very soul longed to simply hold his wife, his other half again. [Love]

"I will," you nodded frantically though you knew he couldn't see it. "I've only got some last minute things to do I promise I'll be home as quickly as I can".

"Te estoy esperando, cariño..." [I'm waiting for you, darling...]

"Yo también, mi vida... Pronto estaré allí, te quiero". [Me too, my life... I'll be there soon, I love you]

You hung up the phone with a shaky smile, holding the screen close to your chest. The photo for his contact tugging at your heartstring as you gingerly got up, now feeling the ache of every blow made on you but you still walked.

"Let's get this done with," you addressed the team who were already present. "And get back home to our family".

====================================

Part 3

Part 1

Again thank you so much for reading<33 My requests are of course open.

[kolbalissh]

morning afters ⊹₊⟡⋆

carlos sainz jr/oscar piastri - read on ao3 !

teen and audiences above (suggestive content), 3.2k words - oneshot

the carcar established relationship domestic morning intimacy study that no one asked for, yet i delivered

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Leaving me without a kiss, Sainz?” Oscar grins back at him, his rabbit teeth and the crook of his canine out on the show, accompanied by the apples of his cheeks raising ever so lightly.

Carlos chuckles, deciding to humor the man in front of him whom he’s grown so unhealthily fond of.

“Just gave you one, amor."

A/N : this is my first ever fanfic written for the f1 rpf fandom, and boy did i ramble like my life depended on it pls enjoy thank you and i wholeheartedly welcome requests and feedback go wild 🤸‍♀️

Oscar’s eyes flutter open from the rustle beside him. The morning is soft, there’s light peeking out from the ends of the blackout curtains of his Hilton hotel room. The room cold, air conditioner is set to low - just how he likes it - it’s almost ritualistic the way Carlos will make sure the room is cold enough like it is consolation for how hot he’s going to make Oscar feel every time they’re together, how sweaty and messy they get, the room is sure to be cold to cool them both down.

He can hear the older man get up, putting the blanket that lifted from Oscar’s body when he arose, back on his bare, pale, freckled, and now, marked body - so he doesn’t get cold.

Oscar looks, though he pretends he hasn’t woken up, he doesn’t understand why himself. Peering through his lashes as the light from the balcony seeps through, he can see Carlos’s silhouette, eyes still blurry and unfocused.

He’s putting his shirt on, the same shirt Oscar almost tore apart from his body. That’s another thing that he doesn’t understand about himself when he's near the Spaniard. He’s known to be calm, he is calm, he’s always been. The next iceman, they say.

But Carlos gets him riled up, gets him impatient, always hungry for more. If the next morning there aren’t the indents of Oscar’s presence on the older man’s body, then Oscar would say he should’ve tried harder.

Carlos puts his jeans on, now. The marks of the younger nails, the long drag across his shoulder starting from his back, where he held on - because Carlos was a bastard like that, always has to look at Oscar when he’s inside the other man, maybe it’s the Spanish in him that made him this romantic.

Oscar never complains. Though, he’d rather get demoted back to an Alpine than say out loud that burying his head into the crook of Carlos’s neck, feeling the slight stubble tickle his cheek, breathing him in as he holds on for the wreck of it all, is one of the few things in life that’s made him feel safe.

And if Carlos looks at him with those brown eyes of his, that holds the world and more when he’s making Oscar gasp and whine, if the way he looks at him makes him feel like he’s flying on cloud nine, then that's between him and himself only, and maybe the deity that he falls on his knees for when there's a particularly hard race in a week.

And when Carlos calls him ‘mi muñeco’, after kissing him in the most tenderest way possible, even then Oscar won’t complain. He remembers asking him the first time he whispered the term into his ear, he probably should have been offended when he understood. He probably should have gotten a bit mad too.

But when Carlos said, “My doll, built to perfection - mi muñeco, you are flawless, like a porcelain doll made out of beauty itself.”, accompanied with the softest kiss on his temple, as his thumb caressed the younger’s cheek like one wrong swipe and it would leave him broken in pieces - then how can one expect Oscar to find offense in that? He accepted it, if Carlos wants him to be his pretty flawless doll, then so be it.

Oscar stirs a bit, the duvet on top of him moving along with him, catching Carlos’s attention. The remnants of last night still linger on Oscar’s face. His brown locks were messy, ruffled, and frayed across his forehead. The corner of his eyes with the stain of dried tears, tears that Carlos knows so well how to draw out, by giving him just enough and then pulling away, having the Australian man grasping for more. More is never enough. Carlos knows, and yet somehow he still gets him to his release, always just enough.

Oscar’s eyes are awake now, adjusting to the light in the room, and his bare body adjusting to the temperature - he already misses the warmth of Carlos, it’s as if his tan traps the heat of the sun itself, later radiating throughout Oscar’s rather white skin - the only tan that Oscar can get without getting his skin to burn till red, though, he burns red for other reasons.

He’s looking at Carlos now, and the other man notices that the brunette is up and awake, the hint of the early morning doze still radiating off of him. Oscar looks comfortable, wrapped up in himself, head resting on his forearms, peering at Carlos from the little nook he’s created for himself. The duvet weighed him down, and his soft brown waves curtained his eyes, barely disrupting his vision.

Carlos walks over from the foot of the bed where he’s buttoning the last of his shirt, the sound of his steps over the wooden floor coming towards where Oscar’s been silently gazing at him, still sleepy. Oscar can smell his cologne already, the aftershave entering his periphery, a scent he loves inhaling mostly from the dip of Carlos’s neck itself during the many times he’s found himself after a long day curling up in the other man’s arms and chest.

Oscar stirs a little to get a better look at the man in front of him now, looking down at him like he's the single most interesting thing in this quiet morning. Carlos’s hands come to his face to move the few locks of hair in front of his eyes all the while taking a seat at the edge of the bed - Oscar without thinking already shifting to give him the space to do so, yet still laying in his morning comfort.

The older man's calloused fingertips trail to his face, warm against his sheet-indented cheeks, caressing the soft skin there. The apples of Oscar’s cheeks warm against Carlos’s hands - the slow soft motion of his thumb drawing circles has Oscar leaning into the touch like a reflex, almost as natural as breathing to him.

“Did I wake you, tesoro?”

Oscar hums as he shuffles out of the tangle he was in to be more open, blinking slowly, taking his time to let his eyes water again, the sting of waking up still lingering. Carlos had so many of these nicknames for him, he’d lost track of how many there were anymore, though he had his favorites. Almost every term that rolled off the older man’s tongue was a term of endearment, more or less more affectionate than the one before. Tesoro. Oscar knew this one, the first turns of the cogs in his brain for the day being translating one of Carlos’s names for him. He was still caressing his face, Oscar couldn’t help but let his lip curl softly.

“You should go back to sleep,” Carlos murmurs to the man lying in front of him, his palms moving to the sides of Oscar’s body running up and down in slow motions, to lull him back to slumber, delicate and mellow.

“What’s the time?” Oscar mutters out, morning voice out on display. He’s comfortable under Carlos’s touch, with no signs of getting up soon.

“Around 7.”

“Up so early?” Oscar whispers, his free hand that’s not supporting his head finds Carlos’s bigger one, joining their fingers together. An action so small, but so dear to the Australian man. He gets to do that. No one else does.

“I’ve got a flight at 12, amor, Max’s plane you know,”

Oscar relishes in the little world he is in right now. It is as if the hotel room is guarding this tender morning between them. He fiddles with Carlos’s fingers, absentmindedly fidgeting with them with soft touches. The skinship is comfortable, familiar, and mostly, regular in feel. If you told Oscar even a year ago that he would be spending Monday mornings post-race in a room with Carlos Sainz holding hands like teenagers then he would have called you a madman.

Oscar wants to ask him to stay. It’s unreasonable, he knows but Carlos isn’t as strong a man as you’d think he is. It could work, Carlos barely says no to him, and spoils him too much even for Oscar’s taste.

And they’re supposed to be rivals. The media is still running the rivals to an awkward truce narrative, but they’re far from it already. They’re so different but so close, so similar. Magnets - polar opposites attracting each other like a force of nature. Inevitable, bound to be, and natural.

It is as if they pulled each other to themselves, even without meaning to do so. Be it the start of their acquaintance, where one crashes on the track, the other is always found at the scene of the crime or be it what they are now, always finding each other even in the most hectic schedules to give each other their time.

Oscar could ask him to stay. Tell him to slide back into bed, take the jeans and the shirt he just put on back to the ground where they were. Have Carlos snake his arm around his waist, pull him close to share the heat of his body to put the younger man to sleep, let the Spaniard bury his face into the brunette’s pale nape, and breathe him in. The plea circles at the tip of Oscar’s tongue, in battle with itself on whether to present or not.

But Carlos knows Oscar better than he thought he did. Carlos speaks again, beating the other man to his own request.

“You know I’ll see you soon next week, cariño?” Carlos’s thumb strokes circle on Oscar’s hand now, a small action of consolation accompanying his reassurance to the unsaid wish that had popped up in Oscar’s mind.

“Yeah,” Oscar replies with a smile, reflecting in his half-lidded drowsy eyes with a glimmer. He always had an eye smile anyway, it always showed on his face when he’d grin genuinely. Spending time with Carlos brought more of those out than he could count. There used to be a time when all he did was glare at the other man with furrowed eyebrows, it’s not like it has stopped, Carlos still knew how to get under his skin the same way he did at the beginning of their infatuation. However, that remained mostly on track.

Carlos replies with a smile of his own, dragging the hand holding Oscar’s up to his lips, planting a chaste kiss in between his fingers. The brunette allows it to happen, some mornings he likes the extra attention that Carlos gives him a little more than necessary. Being the center of affection for the other man has become something he’s accustomed to.

Carlos slowly gets up from where he’s sitting, the mattress instantly fluffs up from where he was. He walks over to the foot of the bed again, looking for the other sock somewhere around. Oscar is still resting, admiring the man in front of him - waltzing around the room looking for his things like his phone, his wallet, and his stupidly expensive perfume that gets Oscar’s head dizzy like a good high.

Oscar stirs again, pulling the duvet on top of him closer to his chin, tucking himself in between it lazily observing the other man prepare to leave. It’s times like this he wished that maybe he wouldn’t have to. The schedules of the races and the rush of time made it almost impossible for them to overstay their welcome at each other’s. If it’s leaving for Baku today, then it's Vegas for another week. And so on. Except for the breaks they get, and it’s something Oscar’s come to like more. Before Carlos, it was catching up on sleep, playing video games, and eating at another spot that Yuki mentioned in the group chat. Nothing’s changed in his plans, just the addition of a certain brown-eyed individual’s company - and that made the time away from the adrenaline-filled weekends more desirable.

Oscar sees Carlos pace around the room suddenly, in search of something. He’s looking under the sofa, and flipping the hotel-issued magazines off the coffee table. Oscar shuffles and supports himself on his elbows, peeking over to where Carlos was currently jamming his hand through the side of his duffel bag again.

“You looking for something?”

“I can’t find my watch,” Carlos motions to his wrist with a face that looks scarily close to what a kicked-puppy would look like. His shirt sits taut against his arms, and the sleeves are rolled to his elbows, showing all kinds of forearm action.

Oscar sits up a bit more now, his bed head resembling more a bird’s nest than a head of hair. He ushers towards the counter near the sofa with his head and Carlos follows the motion to where his eyes lock on to the silver gleaming from the top of the counter, amidst some other clutter that has Oscar’s name written all over it.

“You kept it there before we, you know,” Oscar mumbles out with a small chuckle, it’s just them there - there’s no need for Oscar to talk properly, the energy of fully waking up hasn't risen in him yet, and he’d very much like to sleep in today.

Carlos walks over to grab his watch, puts it on swiftly, and locks it in place on his wrist. The action has Oscar attentive, more attentive than needed one might say, but he can't help but stare at him - Carlos’s soft black hair falls to his forehead as he tilts his head down to secure the watch on his hand. Carlos reaches towards his bag, bringing his phone out of his back pocket, and checks the time.

Oscar is still sitting up, slouching, the hue of sleepiness still washed over his face - he looks incredibly soft at the moment. His lower half was covered by nothing but the white, heavy duvet, and his pale body speckled with moles and freckles, and fresh new marks of last night.

Carlos walks over to him again, shoving his phone back where it was. His right hand comes up to embrace Oscar’s face, slowly falling to where his chin is to tilt the brunette’s head up to him. Carlos bends down to kiss him on the cheek, the warmth of his plush, red lips against the soft of Oscar’s cheeks. Oscar leans in his head, savouring the contact of the kiss.

When Carlos pulls away there is a crinkle in his eye, a smile he can't help but have, looking at the younger man in front of him. His hand still holding onto Oscar’s face that he lets graze across his cheek, just to feel his warmth. Oscar always ran hot, even with the temperature low, his flush kept him warm.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Leaving me without a kiss, Sainz?” Oscar grins back at him, his rabbit teeth and the crook of his canine out on the show, accompanied by the apples of his cheeks raising ever so lightly.

Carlos chuckles, deciding to humor the man in front of him whom he’s grown so unhealthily fond of.

“Just gave you one, amor.”

Oscar feigns fake annoyance and furrows his eyebrows, with a quick eye roll before going back to peering at Carlos, awaiting his request.

Carlos breathes out another laugh, early morning Oscar had to be one of his favorite Oscars. The brunette got more clingy, especially on days like this when Carlos had to leave early and they knew it’d be some time again till they could loiter around each other’s comfort again. He leans in first, and Oscar instantly does so too, like a reflex, craning his neck up to meet Carlos halfway.

Their lips meet, and Oscar can taste the lip balm on the other man already, his own chapped lips chasing after the other’s plump ones. The kiss is soft, just like the ember of light flooding through the gaps of the curtains. Carlos tilts his head, deepening the kiss a bit more, a kiss that is unlike the ones they shared last night - filthy, wet, and heated. Oscar’s sleepiness is cut short a bit by the feeling of Carlos’s contact. He breathes him in and presses his tender lips against the older man’s. They linger against him, and Oscar can feel himself humming into it, his shoulders relaxing against Carlos’s touch. Oscar places chaste pecks on him in the middle, his hand reaching up to cradle Carlos’s cheeks. His stubble grazed Oscar’s palm, his hands were far smaller than the other man’s - they barely covered Carlos’s face whereas Carlos’s would have engulfed half his face already. Oscar loved the feeling, he loved leaning into his hands, letting himself be rested in its warmth.

Oscar pulls away first, breathing slightly heavier than he was a while ago, a wash of pink decorating his cheeks, his ears - running all the way down to his neck and collarbone. Carlos licks his lips pulling away as if to taste Oscar again. The Spaniard is left with his chest bubbling and a smile plastered across his face. Oscar’s hand goes to retract back to himself but Carlos catches it first, placing another few short, quick kisses on the other’s pale warm hand, contrasting against Carlos’s tan, gruff, and hairy one - adorning his silver watch.

“Get some sleep, love,” Carlos whispers to him so quietly, that Oscar would have barely heard him if not for the otherwise silent room.

Oscar dozily nods, his eyes already back to being half-lidded. Before he can collapse back into every nook and cranny of the mattress under him, Carlos decides to be even more of the romantic bastard he is, placing one final kiss on the top of Oscar’s head, into the soft mess of his chestnut waves which sealed that Carlos was finally leaving.

He feels Carlos pull away from his space, leaning down to grab his bag and shuffle away towards the exit of his room.

Oscar felt his eyes get heavier and it got harder for him to keep them open. He can hear Carlos rustle, further away towards the door in front of the small foyer now. The click of the only ambient light on in the room echoes through, Carlos switches it off and the room gets darker than it already was, the only light existing is the cracks of early morning sunlight peeping from between the heavy curtains.

The room is still cool and Oscar’s eyes are closed now as he starts drifting off into comfortable slumber. The last thing he hears is the soft tick of the door as Carlos closes it behind him, the sound diffusing with the white noise from the central air conditioning that’s soothing Oscar back to sleep.

Oscar breathes deeply, he can smell Carlos’s lingering perfume in the air and on his pillow. The room feels like him, even if it is Oscar’s space. He feels his senses get hazier, the last remnants in his mind being the thought of the other man. His man.

And if Oscar wakes up much later in the noon, getting some sleep, as Carlos had said - and he doesn’t find the older man beside him, then that’s okay.

Oscar will see him soon, anyway.

thats it! forgive me if the spanish nicknames are wrong or something i tried my best and i in no way shape or form know spanish well - hope you liked it and if u wanna see more stuff just flood my ask box (it heals me literally seeing reqs) and remember, carcar 4 lyfe xoxo

[morselmint]

Apollon and Amor (1891) - Ján Fadrusz

Gallery of City Bratislava (Galéria mesta Bratislavy,GMB) - Slovak Republic

[ianitos]

love is love is love is love

[milkcookiekin]

so many tags ;( (dw i made it work, and also i will be reusing a few nicknames from the first two parts. i will not be including ghostwalker because ghostwalker can’t feel emotions)

nicknames the phighting deities give their s/os

darkheart - my beauty, pumpkin, lovebug

“what brought you to my realm, my beauty?”

firebrand - amore, sweetness, my little flame

“um, sweetness? i created some gloves so i can touch you now!”

icedagger - my jewel, my marshmallow, sugarplum

“are you cold? i-i can hold you if you want, sugarplum!”

illumina - my lotus (that’s it, he’s not all that creative)

“let me admire you, my gorgeous lotus..”

venomshank - (unironically) snookums, cutie pie, and my daffodil

“don’t worry, my daffodil, my army and i will protect you..”

windforce - hottie, precious, peach

“let me at ‘em, peach!”

[notquitecanon]

Look at you // Moonknight system x reader

Summary: Three words, three men. Crazy how it meant something so different coming from each of them. You cherish them all.

TW: Marvel's version of DID, sexual mentions through out, jake's section is just smut sorry I'm a whore, fingering, oral (f receiving), no use of Y/N, I don't think I mentioned specific pronouns but I used feminine descriptions of genitalia, terrible and overused Spanish. terrible and overused British slang. mentions of penetrative sex and male receiving oral. Marc is touch starved and self sabotaging but what's new? criminal overuse of italics I think that's everything worth mentioning?

I typed this up In like 30 minutes after the idea came to me. There are typos + I've never written for the moon boys before (idk how I literally never stop thinking about them) Anyways on with it:

Steven says it like he’s won a prize. His eyes light up with that amazing grin, and he holds his hands out to you like you are about to hand him whatever the archeology equivalent of a Nobel Prize is- except in this metaphor you’re also the trophy. He says it often- when he sees you in a new outfit or hair style for the first time, when he greets you after not seeing you for a couple days, when you step out of the steamy bathroom in a towel, when he’s had one too many pints at the pub and the light is hitting your eyes just right, when you kneel between his legs and look up at him. 

“Look at you!” His voice is somewhere between breathless and a growl, yet still chipper and awestruck. His eyes are roving over you as if he can’t find a favorite part about you, and he can’t- it’d be like comparing wonders of the world, “Darlin’, you look absolutely stunnin’!”  He inched closer, hands reaching out to you. You couldn't tell if it was a demand for you to close the distance or hesitation that you might not allow him to touch you. And while Steven could be fun to tease, you weren’t cruel… usually. His eyes still couldn't settle, but they kept flicking nervously- hopefully- back up to yours, “You didn’t do all this for me, did you, luv?”  “All for you, Steven.” You promised, taking his hand and placing it on your hip. His breath catches as he starts feeling the delicious fabric and he didn't wait for permission for his other hand to roam up to your hair. His eyes were still roaming, no the better word was analyzing you like you were the depiction of an ancient deity come to life. He nodded as his breath became heavy, and the sweet thing almost melted when you reach up and brush a curl from his face. He might have had wandering eyes but you had wandering hands, cupping his cheek then dragging down his neck, down his chest to the hem of that sweater you so often stole, and then underneath just to drag back up his bare chest.  “All for me, don’t know how lucked into you. Bit hard to believe, innit?” He rambled but you let him for only a moment. You playfully smacked his ribs under his shirt. It wasn’t hard to believe at all, you’d told him a thousand times just how lucky you were to have him. He breathed a laugh, shook his head, and apologized quietly. You smiled softly, reaching towards him to press a kiss to his jawline, then his cheek, and finally his lips.  When you pulled back, Steven surprisingly wasn’t still leaning into the contact like usual. This time his chocolate eyes start at your feet and rake up, painstakingly slow, “Look. at. you.”

Jake says it like he’s proving you wrong- he usually is. His smirk is as smug and irritating as it is thrilling, his eyes darken like a predator about to pounce, and his fingers flex like he’s focusing all his energy on not pouncing too quick. When something he picked out looks just right on you, when he sneaks up on you just enough to see you startle, when he makes a flush creep up your neck, when he pins you while teaching you self defense, when he pries out 'one last' orgasm after you were sure you couldn’t do it again. 

“Look at you, mi amor.” Jake teased, as if he wasn’t the reason you were the mess you had become. His strong arms were the only reason you weren’t boneless on the mattress as he held you up enough to see your reflection in corner mirror- you idly wondered if Steven and Marc were enjoying the show. Jake was grinning and his eyes are practically danced as they took in every last inch of your shaking body. If you had anymore control over your body (which you obviously don’t), you’d smack that smirk right off his smug face- and Jake would've probably liked it, the deviant, “Follame, dulce nina, lo haces tan facil.”  Unfortunately, you didn't have much control at that moment. That much was obvious to both of you (and probably your neighbors). In fact, all you had been able to manage between moans were breathy ‘pleases’ and screams of Jake’s name. Instead, you clung to him the best you could, leaving claw marks down his shoulders. Your knees had knocked back together, clamping his hand between your thighs- still too cock dumb to realize that was part of the problem. Trapping those evil but delicious fingers next to your throbbing core as you writhed through the most recent wave of pleasure. You hear Jake’s cool chuckle, but when you look at him- both of him… shit when did your eyes cross?- he’s still just watching you.  He is kind enough to wait until your eyes uncross edand your breathing to evened out before he swatted your thigh, just hard enough to make you gasp before you realized what he wanted. You couldn't even be embarrassed when he lifted it up and your slick almost shimmered on his hand in the low light.  Jake's grin was wolfish, clearly proud of his work as he rounded the corner of the bed. Leaning over you, his lips ghosted over your sweat dropped forehead and then your own swollen lips. His large hands took purchase at the soft flesh of your hips, squeezing as a warning before quickly, efficiently tugging you down to the foot of the bed where he took to his knees.  “One more for me.” It wasn’t a question or a request- a statement. You shook your head, but didn’t tell him to stop- you didn’t want him to stop but you genuinely didn’t think he could make you come again. From between your twitching thighs, he simply arced a brow. “Don’t believe me, princesa?” "Told you." Minutes later, he emerged victorious from the vice of your thighs, nose and chin practically dripping as he grinned up at you. Your fingers were still knotted in his curls as your chest heaved, stars dancing in your vision as you gasped or maybe you were screaming… you couldn’t tell. All you knew was Jake and the little circles he was rubbing on your knees with his thumb as you came back to Earth.  Jake’s dark eyes watched you like you were a living piece of art, voice rasping and zealous, yet still holding that annoyingly familiar ‘i told you so’ candor, “Dios mios, Look at you.” 

Marc says it like it just might save him. His eyes soften and his shoulders lose some tension, like the weight of the world (moon?) lessens when you’re around, and if you’re really lucky, you might catch a small, sweet, relieved smile. When you say such pretty things while he’s inside of you, when he comes home and your making enough dinner for two, when you open the curtains in the morning and the light shines in, when he looks up at you with his head on your lap and your fingers toying with his curls,  when you first wake up and the first thing you do is sleepily smile at him, and sometimes, most times, when he’s not even fronting when he’s watching as a fly on the wall as you are just as gentle and loving with Jake and Steven. 

“Look at you.” Marc whispered it, it was intimate, reverent. Like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud. His head was in his lap and he’d been somewhere between half awake and mostly asleep for the better part of the afternoon. Jake had run the body ragged while he fronted, and now with Marc at the wheel all he wanted was to rest and be near you- not necessarily in that order. So, he didn’t argue nearly as much as usual when you simply pulled him onto the couch and pushed his had to you lap where you played with his dark curls until he went limp, sprawled over the overstuffed yet still too small couch Steven had chosen for the flat. It was comical how his long legs hung over the arm and back of the sofa, one arm draping over you and the other hanging off so his knuckles grazed the floor. But Marc knew how to be grateful, knew how to realize when he got more than the thought he deserved.  This was good. You were good. And he had known plenty of bad, so for the moment he’d soak up your good like a plant soaks up sunshine.  In between long blinks, he had watched you with soft eyes as you rotated from your latest book, scrolling on your phone, and whatever show you’d throw on the TV. Sometimes you were humming as you read or muttering comments about your show. Your free hand was twisting his curls, combing across his scalp, and occasionally gently drifting down to rub his back. God, you were a fucking angel. How could he not look at you?  “What about me?” You asked, quiet but bemused, magic fingers tracing from his hair to rest at his chin so you could see his eyes. Softer than usual. Your smile was reassuring, a promise this was real. A promise he was actually here. That he deserved to be. Marc sighed. He could wax poetic at you for the next four hours and not even cover his opening remarks on how grateful he was for you, why he didn’t deserve you, and what he’d do to keep you. But he also knew how upset it made you when he talked like that, so instead, he shook his head slightly, burrowing even closer into you if that were possibly before tugging you down to meet his lips briefly, “Someone’s feeling sentimental today. Everything alright?”  “Perfect, baby, perfect.” He promised, still openly staring. You shook your head, hiding behind your book, but Marc gently pushed the pages to the side, “How could I not be, just… look at you."

______

translations:

mi amor: my love

follame, dulce nina, lo haces tan facil: fuck me, sweet girl, you make it too easy

Princesa: Princess

Dios Mios: My God / Oh my God

I'm gonna be so real with y'all I know the Spanish words need the accent marks but consider the fact that I am dumb and can't figure that out yet. Did I put three gifs to distract y'all? yes. also he's pretty. sue me.

Anyways sorry if this sucked laugh out loud

the boys during this