#Five Miles To Midnight

[endless-formsmostbeautiful]

Five Miles to Midnight dir. Anatole Litvak (1962)

[nitrateglow]

Favorite films discovered in 2023

2023 kind of sucked, but it was a fruitful year for me as a movie geek. I finally got around to seeing films that have been on my TBW pile for years now. I also gave myself a challenge that I actually completed: watch at least one film from every year between 1900 and 2023.

Anyway, I'll stop beating around the bush. Here are my top 20 favorite film discoveries in 2023. (The order is very, very loose from 5 on down. I genuinely had a hard time narrowing the list down to 20, let alone ranking everything.)

When a Woman Ascends the Stairs (dir. Mikio Naruse, 1960)

This well-regarded drama follows Keiko, a bar hostess who's just turned 30 years old. She has limited options as an unmarried woman in postwar Japan. Considered "old," she has to marry soon or scrape enough money to buy her own bar. With its jazzy score and first-person narration, When a Woman Ascends the Stairs has a noirish vibe but it certainly isn't noir at all. Though the film is tragic, what moved me so much was Keiko's character. She has a tough lot and her story is ultimately tragic, yet she is determined to keep going, even if life won't give her a break.

The Boy and the Heron (dir. Hayao Miyazaki, 2023)

Miyazaki's current "last film" is certainly his most abstract and puzzling. I imagine it'll be one of his more divisive titles in the years to come, but count me among its fans. While being "in the know" regarding the current state of Studio Ghibli and Miyazaki's 60+ year-long career in animation allows one to better appreciate the many allusions and themes within the film, it stands just fine on its own as a surrealistic adventure about grief and the power of art. Also, damn, I LOVE hand-drawn animation so much.

Black Cat (dir. Kaneto Shindo, 1968)

Kaneto Shindo's Black Cat is yet another confirmation of my feeling that horror pairs best with humor or heartbreak. While there are some morbidly funny moments, Black Cat is largely a devastating supernatural horror story about a young samurai who encounters two mysterious women in the woods, not realizing they are the ghosts of his murdered wife and mother. Even worse, they've sworn to kill any and all samurai they encounter, since their deaths were the result of raping, pillaging samurai-- but they remain human enough to desire an exception. I was creeped out thoroughly by the chilly atmosphere and imagery of this film. I liked it even better than Shindo's Onibaba and that was one of my favorites from 2022!

Malcolm X (dir. Spike Lee, 1992)

I usually dislike big movie biopics for being stuffy and formulaic. Malcolm X avoids both of these issues. Directed to the hilt by Spike Lee, this film is passionate and compelling, about as far from a stuffy Oscarbait biopic as you could imagine. Also, Denzel Washington is AMAZING in the titular role. Like, we're talking one of the best performances I have ever seen because not only is Washington convincing as Malcolm X, he also perfectly portrays his arc from zoot-suited young criminal to uncompromising activist leader. I was absolutely mesmerized the entire time-- it's a long movie that never feels its length and I'll definitely be revisiting it in the future.

The Kiss Before the Mirror (dir. James Whale, 1933)

James Whale’s horror movies are listed among the finest 1930s cinema had to offer, but his other works remain woefully overlooked. The Kiss Before the Mirror is a strange marital drama set in a dreamlike interwar Vienna. A lawyer defending a murderer who shot down his cheating wife comes to discover his own wife in the midst of a casual affair. Will this discovery lead to another killing? Despite the lurid plot elements, Kiss is closer to Kubrick’s introspective Eyes Wide Shut than a typical 1930s melodrama. Both husband and wife are complex characters struggling with destroyed illusions, making the story a hell of a lot more complex than you'd expect.

Five Miles to Midnight (dir. Anatole Litvak, 1962)

I am so glad I ignored the meh reviews on this one because I would have missed out on one of the best thrillers I've seen in years. Sophia Loren is a woman desperate to shake off her narcissistic, abusive husband played by Tony Perkins. When Perkins is wrongly believed dead in a plane crash, he hides out in Loren's apartment so they can collect the life insurance money, split the funds, then part amicably. This being a Hitchcock-style thriller, it doesn't work out that way. What sells the film is the psychological cat-and-mouse game between Loren and Perkins's miserable, mismatched married couple, and a noirish sense of doom lends a great deal of atmosphere.

Shoes (dir. Lois Weber, 1916)

Shoes is the best Lois Weber film I have yet seen and it still packs a wallop a century-plus since its initial release. Mary MacLaren plays a young woman single-handedly supporting her family on a five dollar a week salary. She wears shoes that are falling apart but can never seem to save enough for a new pair-- that is, until an unsavory way of getting the cash presents itself, much to her horror and temptation. This is a heartbreaking little film that showcases a lot of what I love about 1910s American cinema. There's less glamor in the settings and nothing at all genteel or cleaned up about the poverty on display. MacLaren is wonderful in the lead too, her performance a quietly compelling portrait of quiet desperation.

Jeopardy (dir. John Sturges, 1953)

Barbara Stanwyck was in such a wealth of films that I can forgive myself for not realizing this one even existed. After seeing it, it's easily in my top five favorite films of hers. On the surface, the plot sounds like fodder for sleazy sex fantasy: a housewife on vacation is kidnapped by a hot escaped convict. She's racing against time to save her husband from drowning after the tide comes in at the beach where he's trapped; the convict has a very specific price for any aid he's willing to offer. Stanwyck's characterization complicates the situation and the direction amps the tension to a breaking point. Great, great stuff!

Girlfriends (dir. Claudia Weill, 1978)

This film came across my path in a weirdly personal way. One of my sisters got engaged this year. We've been close all of our lives and shared an apartment for years, so this is going to be a big change for both of us. Girlfriends is about a young woman whose best friend is getting married, meaning she'll be on her own for the first time. In addition to making this adjustment, she's a photographer currently hired for weddings and bar mitzvahs, but dreaming of entering the larger world of art galleries. I guess you could say it's a 70s version of a quarter-life crisis film (Noah Baumbach's Frances Ha takes A LOT from it). The performances and direction are exceptional, having that unglamorous, lived-in vibe I love about the films of this period. It also just happened to come into my life at the most resonant time, so there's that.

Ivan the Terrible, Parts One and Two (dir. Sergei Eisenstein, 1945 and 1958)

As a person who hates the idea that realism is the only valid form for cinematic drama, Eisenstein's hyper-stylized Ivan the Terrible movies are a joy. The compositions are like something out of a painting, the acting is operatic, the writing mythic and sweeping. The dance number in Part II is one of my favorite scenes in any movie ever. Best of all, the films rise above their propagandist origins, becoming a fascinating study of institutional power set against individual charisma.

The Red Queen Kills Seven Times (dir. Emilio Miraglia, 1972)

I've been getting more into giallo lately and The Red Queen Kills Seven Times is among the more memorable titles. You have the fashion world setting, a disguised murderer running around in a red cloak, over the top kills, a villainous junkie who looks like Bucky Barnes, a spooky castle with death traps, the works. It's a movie where I don't really care too much about the plot. It's the off-kilter, sinister atmosphere that draws me in, as with most giallo movies.

Little Miss Sunshine (dir. Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, 2006)

It took Alan Arkin dying for me to finally get around to seeing this much beloved 2000s gem. I expected to only be interested in Arkin as the drug-addled, foul-mouthed grandpa, but the entire movie is so warm-hearted and hilarious that I fell in love with it whole hog. The characters are all quirky without being Quriky (tm), if you know what I mean. And I love the final message about just living your life and not worrying about whether or not you're "successful" in the eyes of society. An old theme to be sure, but done so, so well here. (Also, the mercilessly satirical jab at child beauty pageants is pure gold.)

Pom Poko (dir. Isao Takahata, 1994)

I feel like a lot of western anime fans only see Pom Poko as "lol that movie where the tanuki have comically oversized testicles." And yeah, that is indeed something in this movie but there's so much more. It's one of the boldest films I've ever seen, an "animated documentary" (to use Takahata's words) about a village of tanuki waging war against humankind's encroachment upon the natural world. It's such a genre grab-bag, critic Daniel Thomas' description fits it best: "The story weaves through slapstick comedy, social commentary, satire, surrealism, and tragedy. It changes moods much the way the tanuki change form, bending and molding into a new shape, and relentlessly moving forward." I still think Only Yesterday is Takahata's best film, but Pom Poko is strong competition and yet another film I can see myself rewatching many times to come.

Bullet Train (dir. David Leitch, 2022)

I still kick myself for not seeing this in the theater when it came out. Bullet Train is a wonderful lark of an action film. On first watch, I recall thinking it was like a live-action anime shot in a very Tarantino-esque style. I've seen it a few times now and I enjoy the hell out of it every time. And if you don't like it, well, you just might be a Diesel.

That Cold Day in the Park (dir. Robert Altman, 1969)

Another film with a so-so reputation that I really enjoyed. Sandy Dennis (who's gradually becoming one of my favorites with every performance I see from her) plays a virginal rich woman who takes in a handsome young guy one cold day. Her initial kindness quickly curdles into erotic obsession and her house guest has his own secrets. It's an early Robert Altman film and not his most polished work, but that makes it all the more fascinating to me. It's a creepy psychological thriller with a haunting ending, as well as an interesting time capsule of the late 1960s.

Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (dir. Russ Meyer, 1965)

Where has this movie been all my life?? It's a bizarre campfest about three criminally minded go-go dancers who romp across the California desert, strewing all kinds of havoc in their wake. It's such a strange movie that I don't know how to describe it properly: it's got a New Wave sensibility to it all the while indulging in exploitation B-movie nonsense. Definitely a fun film to watch with a group.

Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (dir. Chantal Akermann, 1975)

I finally bit the bullet to watch this one after it topped the 2022 Sight & Sound list. Do I think it's the greatest film of all time? No, but I don't like singling out any work of art for such a designation. Putting aside all the drama that ensued when this was granted GOAT status, Jeanne Dielman is a striking film. It's definitely not something you just throw on casually-- you need to set aside the time to watch it and be in the right headspace. My initial mild interest morphed into a sense of anxious dread as the film ground along its three hour runtime, its protagonist struggling to retain her total sense of self-possession and control as she's thrown off her groove by unexpected events.

The Wicked Lady (dir. Leslie Arliss, 1945)

This is not high art by any means. It's melodrama with a capital M, laying the cheese on thick. Margaret Lockwood plays a devious, scheming femme fatale in 18th century England who's a gold-digging noblewoman by day and a highwaywoman cavorting with bad boy James Mason by night. This is easily the most entertaining of the Gainsborough melodramas I've yet seen, dripping with soap opera antics, sumptuous costumes, and camp-a-plenty.

War and Peace (dir. Sergei Bondarchuk, 1966-1967)

There is no substitute for reading Tolstoy's massive novel, but this 1966 Soviet version is definitely a fine work in its own right. Filmed in three parts, it's about nine hours long and it does a good job capturing the interior lives of the characters in the source material. Everything about it is just breathtaking: the costumes, the sets, the massive numbers of extras during those battle scenes. It's the kind of intellectually and emotionally stirring epic that makes all those hours fly by.

The Sweet Smell of Success (dir. Alexander Mackendrick, 1957)

I often chafe when people act as though all 1950s American cinema were Leave it to Beaver wholesomeness and buttoned up repression. Some of the nastiest Hollywood movies I've ever seen came out of the 1950s and The Sweet Smell of Success is prime among them. Among the best of the late classic noir period, it follows Burt Lancaster as a popular but monstrous newspaper columnist who uses his power to control the lives of everyone around him, particularly his sister, to whom he has a borderline perverse attachment. The dialogue is as sharp ("You're dead, son. Get yourself buried." "I'd hate to take a bite out of you. You're a cookie full of arsenic.") and the cynicism as thick as the best of Billy Wilder. If you love noir, you can't miss out on this one.

What were your favorite film discoveries of 2023?

[youmakemereai]

[professionalgirlboy]

Anthony Perkins in ‘Five Miles To Midnight’

originally posted on my tiktok @girlerasure

is he an abusive husband in this film.... yes, is he very cute....yes

[mtonino]

Five Miles to Midnight (1962) Anatole Litvak

Sophia Loren in Five Miles to Midnight (1962)

[b4kuch1n]

frog documentation. frogcumentation

I think I mentioned a while back I'd post nibling frog momence after the gift's done given. which happened on the 2nd this month I just forgot lmao. anyways we can do it now. I used the boigameista pattern scaled up to four pieces of A4 print paper and decided to double deck it to a two layer thing, not unlike a pillow, for ease of washin. because it was gonna be gifted to a one year old child

took a long time and made a number of mistakes bc hand sewing makes me worse as a person but this guy was done in time for the birthday occasion and that's what matters. chose non-fuzzy fabrics for it because we live in a dense city in the tropics and from personal experience if I hug something made of fur I would explode. the original plan included felt patterns on its back for bonus textures for baby but that wouldn't stretch well along with the rest of the thing so had to hold that back. eventually we got this

zipper across its ass, the coat type of zipper bc I miscalculated when ordering. but it did have a shape and that's all that matters to me. will be a fun game for the baby to grow up and be severely misinformed about what a frog looks like

happy extremely late birthday to this thing also

[endless-formsmostbeautiful]

Well, what's new in the outside world today?

Anthony Perkins and Sophia Loren in

Five Miles to Midnight dir. Anatole Litvak (1962)

[absolutcineyteatro]

[ne-umeyu-tancevat]

i have NEVER been so happy to see tony perkins get run over by a car

[nitrateglow]

Thoughts on Five Miles to Midnight (1962)

Movies like this are why I don't take critics seriously. I really enjoyed this one so much more than I expected. It's not a perfect movie-- I found myself wishing Hitchcock had directed it instead-- but it's a deliciously dark psychological thriller.

Sophia Loren and Anthony Perkins are Lisa and Bob, a married couple living in Paris. Bob is a possessive, emotionally unstable jerk. Lisa can't handle the abuse anymore and wants a divorce, but Bob refuses. When Bob takes a flight to Casablanca, the plane crashes midway, reportedly leaving no survivors.

Before Lisa can feel liberated, Bob returns to their apartment days later, bloodied and bruised. Turns out he survived, but he doesn't want her to tell anyone because his life insurance policy will make the two of them rich beyond their wildest dreams. Lisa just wants Bob out of her life, so the two make a deal: Lisa will hide Bob in her apartment while going through the process of collecting the money and then Bob will start a new life elsewhere, never darkening her doorstep again.

Several factors complicate this simple plan: a nosy kid peeking into the apartment from across the street, a sleazy neighbor hoping to put the moves on the now available Lisa, Bob's aggressive sexual jealousy towards his repulsed wife, and Lisa being at her wits' end as her husband tries to convince her to stay with him despite everything.

I was fascinated by the two main characters in this movie. Bob is a narcissist of the highest order and Lisa is vulnerable but manipulative in her own way (we learn she mainly married Bob to escape a bad situation, a truth which makes Bob bitter). Their messy marital drama blended well with the crime element, giving the film the grim vibe of noir.

My only issue is that some of the suspense scenes could have used a surer hand and more tension. I really think Hitchcock would have done a great job with this story. However, as it is, the performances are good and the story kept my interest. I don't get why it's considered such a dud. Maybe it's because none of the characters are super sympathetic? I don't care-- they were INTERESTING and Lisa was sympathetic enough for all her faults, so I was invested.

Also, I love Perkins' sunglasses and leather gloves look. What an aesthetic!

[youmakemereai]

[ittybittyfanblog]

Only You, Darling (Only You, Babe)

Summary: There were orders for your abduction. You were made to be the bait by a rival gang to get to the elusive head of Onychinus. Sylus doesn’t take it too well. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: mc x sylus, fem!reader x sylus (use of she/her pronouns), depictions of violence (it gets a little graphic), reader gets abducted and injured, strong language, protective!sylus, he’s a little unhinged here, self-indulgent! A/N: I can’t believe this game pulled me out of a three-year creative rut LMAO. I’ve been doing fanarts, now I’m writing again?? The power these pixelated men hold over me, man.  Anyway, enjoy!  This version of Sylus is probably a little OOC idk idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was close to midnight, and you're being followed.

On your six, a stocky man in an unassuming dark suit has been tailing you since you left the dingy bodega a little over a mile away from your apartment for about, three? five minutes– no, maybe even longer.

Shit, you mouth silently. Sloppy. You should’ve noticed him sooner, and the two other lackeys now closing in from up ahead. They’re armed too, if the hands hidden inside their jackets were any indication.

As if things aren't looking bad enough, you’ve decided tonight would be the perfect night to go weaponless, deciding against bringing your handgun with you since it was supposed to just be a quick run to the store for supplies. Namely, the late-night cravings sort of supply.

You clutch the wrinkled paper bag containing your coveted jalapeño Cheetos tightly.

This is what greed does to you, a mocking voice echoes in your head. Since when did your inner voice of reason sound masculine and oh-so-familiar? 

Exhaling quietly, you try to calm the rising beat of your heart and appear to be clueless of your surroundings. Walk at a normal pace. Look unaware of the men with the intention to… What even was this? An ambush? Good, old, regular robbery? No, it doesn’t seem like they were in it for something that insignificant. They wouldn’t even bother to be this cautious if it were. 

But then, what were they here for? The dangers you were more familiar with are of the monstrous kind in the literal sense of the word; entities that you face on a daily basis as a Deepspace hunter. Not the regular threats posed by mankind – which in this particular situation, suddenly feels more foreboding.

While racking your brain for ideas on how to slip away from their sight without escalating the situation, you fail to notice a fourth person hidden behind the dumpster inside the narrow alleyway on your left until you feel the cold, hard edge of a pistol gun hit your temple.  

With a shout, your hand shoots up in an attempt to yank the gun away from the hand holding it but the sudden burst of pain from the impact has left you feeling dizzy and off-kilter. The moment you throw your fists up to block your face, heavy fists strike you directly in a flurry of hits, colliding with your forearm and your unguarded ribs.

You let out a pained grunt as you stagger backwards, trying your hardest to keep yourself from falling back on your ass and ward off the next incoming attack. 

A sinister laugh alerts you of the others, now surrounding you in a circle. Shit!

You hastily shift your legs into a crouching position, bracing yourself as you attempt to sidestep the one in front of you before making a run for it. You spring into action, but before you can even take another step, an arm shoots out and coils tightly around your neck like a noose. A cloth that reeks of something distinct is slapped over your mouth and nose, rendering you unable to do anything but struggle. 

“Now, now– the boss wants her in one piece, John,” The stocky man, who’s apparently larger and more jacked up-close, pipes up. John tightens the limb circling your throat, preventing you from breathing, before slightly loosening his grip. 

 “I’d advise you from struggling too much, sweetheart. But if you insist on making this harder for yourself,” the man talking suddenly grins, revealing rows of crooked, silver teeth. “He ain’t said nothin’ about a couple of bruises.” 

You give him your dirtiest glare, trying to pull away from the death grip the burly man called John had on you, but you feel your muscles slowly becoming heavier and your vision starting to blur. 

Ch-chloroform?

You make a muffled shout, a scurry that earns you a heavy hit on the stomach, one last futile move to free yourself, but the inevitable effect of the potent substance starts to overpower you. 

“After all, we need to make sure that the big bad boss of Onychinus actually comes for his bitch, don’t we?”

Rendered completely useless, the men start to make quick work to restrain your arms and legs in a hogtie before carrying you down the street, to a shaded corner where a large, gray van is parked.

The barn doors open, and you’re tossed in carelessly to the back, landing painfully on the cold, hard floor. An involuntary whimper escapes your lips, feeling like one big bruise; splotches of red and blue start to form like a violent watercolor on your skin. 

The engine revs. Before completely losing consciousness, you think you hear a faint caw.

The car drives off the beaten path, into the night, leaving not a trace of evidence of what transpired mere minutes ago aside from a discarded brown paper bag and a deflated bag of chips. 

-

-

-

From a distance, flying towards the hazy skyline, a mechanical bird crows a bad omen. 

_____

In the dead of the night, the head of Onychinus sits as a spectator; a towering presence at the head of a table inside a private room, obscured in plain sight, in an unremarkable establishment far east of Linkon City. 

Unassuming as it may be, the room’s occupants are men of great renown, both in influence and notoriety. The CEO of a chain business in Azure Square, a regional manager of a well-known bank in Linkon, the head of a weapons trade representing a faction in the N109 zone… All held significant power, all held ulterior motives.

A meeting of minds; the type held only in the secrecy of the night, gone in the break of dawn. 

Sylus has half the mind to listen in on the droning exchange of fake pleasantries and plastic smiles as the men deal trades in nature that of weapons and favors. A number of hungry, beady eyes cast him furtive glances, fearful yet devout. Some cautious in the hope of earning his approval. 

“–the package will be en route to the agreed-upon address by the end of the week,” a stout man in spectacles finishes off, clearing his throat. Beads of sweat start to form at the back of his neck as red eyes bore into his, assessing. Deliberating. “O-or if Richard’s able to give me the go-ahead in advance, I’ll make sure it arrives by Friday,” a gulp–then, “sir.” 

All in reverence. 

He hums, his switchblade dancing idly in his hand, deliberately stretching the tension that hangs heavy in the air. He delights in this power to unsettle, savoring the authority that his mere presence commands—a demand for absolute deference. 

“Make it half that time, will you, Raymond?” Sylus responds amicably, not as a question. The man, Raymond, sputters. 

“That won’t be pos–” Sylus tilts his head, eyes shifting into something more dangerous. “Please, I’ll try to cut the time shorter but there won’t be any assurances.” 

The pale-haired man sighs in acquiescence. “I guess that will have to do.” Raymond lets out an exhale of relief, but catches his breath as Sylus continues, “Any later than Wednesday, and I’ll come to claim it personally.” 

Raymond, more nerves than man, starts to blabber something in response–but stops when something black suddenly appears in a blaze of dark energy, near the shoulder of the intimidating man he’s trying to appeal to. 

Sylus raises a hand, and a large crow lands on his pointer finger. 

He caws, once. Twice. And shows a projection. 

The inhospitably cold room suddenly went glacial. 

All conversation halts to a stop as an overwhelmingly suffocating aura starts to emanate from the man–no, the being at the head of the table, making all that are in the vicinity freeze in fear. 

The devil posing as the leader of Onychinus abruptly stands up, and Raymond thinks, Oh I’m going to die here.

Without a word, the man disappears in a Stygian haze.

_

Five minutes later, only after they felt like death was no longer looming over their heads, did anyone dare to move a muscle.

_____

Your head hurts, and your mouth tastes of rust. 

Having been awake for longer than your captors were aware of – two (?) of which bickering near a barred slate of metal that you assume is the door after taking a quick peek from beneath the mess of hair concealing your face – you try to get your bearings together without arousing the suspicion of your present audience. 

“–bet it’s gonna take a while ‘fore that guy arrives. You think she’s enough to get him to show his face?” 

“Damned if I know. In any case, we got a pretty, li’l plaything on our hands,” a snort. “Make her worth the effort.” 

Where were you? From what it looks like, you’ve been transported into a nondescript underground bunker of sorts, dank with a hint of mildew and rot in the air; a rumbling air vent on your left masking any noise that escaped your mouth when you woke up. The area is poorly lit, save for the flickering bulb hanging precariously above your head as your main source of light – good for casting shadows to hide your bruised face, bad for the pounding headache you’re pretty sure is a concussion. And with your back seemingly close to a wall, you arrive at the conclusion that there are no other entryways, no way to leave, but the guarded door in front of you. 

In short, you have no idea where you are. 

Fuck–this is bad, you swear to yourself internally, trying to control the rising panic swelling up your chest. You never thought your nightcap would lead to this mess. Nobody knows about your current predicament, and it’ll take more than a day before your absence raises any alarms, so right now, you’re on your own. 

Think, think! What can you do?

What can you do? You have nothing on you, nothing you can use as a makeshift weapon to defend yourself with, and your hands are tightly bound behind your back by a thick, heavily twined rope with no give. The situation is slowly turning bleaker by the second, and it isn’t even your fault that you’re here in the first place! You were made a pawn, a mere bait in this messed-up dick-measuring contest between a crazy, sadistic, self-proclaimed head honcho and Onychinus’s own crazy, sadistic–

Wait a minute. Sylus. 

You send a strong prayer to anyone above that’s listening, and an angry telepathic shout for good measure to the one who’s unaware of his involvement – but nonetheless the source of your ruined night – in this attempt at kidnapping a perfectly law-abiding citizen of Linkon.

Sylus, as much as I hate your unfortunate tendency to stalk me through means that, honestly? Eludes the hell out of me, I really, REALLY hope that you’ve been keeping tabs toni–

“Hey, boss! I think this one’s awake!”

Fuck. No use pretending anymore. 

You hear heavy footsteps from outside the room before the corroded metal door swings open to reveal a large man, easily standing above six feet, sporting a neatly trimmed beard and an unsettling smile. His arms are covered in tattoos– overlapping, almost undecipherable. A gnarly scar runs from the side of his mouth to just above his brow bone; his right eye a cloudy gray, most likely a morbid souvenir from the sustained injury.

His functional eye zeroes in on your pitiful form, and his smile widens into a hostile grin. 

“Well, well. It seems like our esteemed guest is finally ready to join in the fun,” His voice sounds like gravel, with a mocking intonation. “I hope my men weren't too rough with you on the way here.” 

You let out a breath through your teeth, blinking a few times to try and rid the blurring in your vision. You have to bide your time– “Why am I here? What do you want from me?” 

The man cocks his head to the side, smile still in place. “I assume you already know. But I’ll indulge you your little questions, why not?”

He crosses the space separating the two of you with just a few, languid steps before he’s in front of you. He leans forward, brushing the messy locks of hair – dried with blood – away from your face in a deceptively calm manner. “The devil needs to pay his dues, but it’s been rather difficult to get a hold of him, you see,” he sighs in exaggerated disappointment. ”I intend to collect, so I waited patiently for the right moment, for an opening. For an opportunity. 

And here, the opportunity presents herself.” 

You sneer, moving your head back to let your hair fall from his creepy hold. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, mister, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong idea.”

He barks out a laugh before gripping your chin tightly between his fingers. “You��ve got a smart mouth on you. Maybe we can find a better use for it.” 

You feel it before you hear it. 

“Perhaps not.” 

Something vicious saturates the air, something intense and terrifying and wrong. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and some sort of primordial response deep within your brain is telling you to get away from it.

But then, the paralyzing fear melts away to something akin to hope when you realize the source of this new disturbance.

Relief washes over you when familiar ink-and-red tendrils materialize behind the man in front of you. The dark wisps dissipate like smoke as soon as it comes and in place, your savior – sporting an expression that could only be described as downright murderous – stands before you, all six feet of unadulterated rage.

Several things happened so fast, it was almost simultaneous.

A cacophony of shouts came loudest from the two men who had been on guard duty but screams also echoed from outside the room. You saw flashes of red, twin laughter, and blood spurting from the necks of the now headless guards, and then a symphony of bullets and a lot of things breaking rang across the room. 

Suddenly— 

Deafening silence. As if something has put an abrupt stop to the noise. 

Amidst all the chaos, the scarred man in front of you had no time to make a move before savage whips of crackling energy engulfed him, leaving only his head free from the smothering darkness. 

His expression betrays something wild and manic as he tries twisting around to look at the figure behind him. “You—”

Sylus pays no mind to the breathing, dead fool—lower than dirt on his feet, with the nerve to harm what is most precious to him—as he keeps his gaze solely on you; his eyes darting up and down as if taking inventory of all the bruises and scrapes you sustained from the abduction. 

You meet his eyes. “You came.” 

An indecipherable look passes his face, gone as quickly as it came. “A little too late. I apologize.” 

You weakly huff out a chuckle, wanting to shake your head but decide against it lest it aggravates your concussion. A prickling sensation, then the rope around your wrists falls off with a quiet thud. 

“Luke. Kieran.” 

“Everything’s all accounted for, boss,” Kieran announces, suddenly appearing beside your right, along with Luke who’s on your left. Both look no worse for wear.

 The latter gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh, man. They got you good, little crow.” 

“Caught me off-guard, s’all,” you insist half-heartedly. 

A sigh. “Transport her directly back to base. Attend to her critical injuries once you arrive, and keep her awake. I’ll handle the rest once I get back,” Sylus instructs the twins in a tone that brooks no argument.

They nod in sync and start making a move to carry you out, but you protest.

“Wait, you’re staying behind?” For some reason, the thought of being separated from him, even for a short amount of time, makes you feel ill. Well, worse than your current state at least. 

Sanguine eyes soften when he hears the tremble in your voice. The offending man in front of you, reduced into something less threatening than a cowering dog in comparison to your rescuer, is forcibly pushed aside to make room for Sylus as he steps closer. 

He crouches low so that you’re looking down on him instead of up. One large hand covers both of yours, mindfully avoiding the fresh rope burns on your wrists, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the unmarred part of your skin. 

“This will be quick, sweetie. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. “I swear to you.”

You swallow, but nodded reluctantly. “Come home soon.” 

“I will.”

With that, you let yourself be carried out of the claustrophobic space you were confined to, into a larger room littered with unmoving bodies that you're frankly too tired to care about at the moment, up three (rickety) flights of stairs where you exit into what looks like the inside of an empty shipping container, before finally, finally getting out. 

A gust of salty wind hits you and you ask, “Are we near the docks?” 

“Yeah,” Kieran answers, carefully putting you down on the backseat of Sylus’ car. “Mephisto trailed after the van they stuffed you in before reporting back to the boss. We followed soon after.” 

Luke frowns as he inserts the key in the ignition. “We weren’t aware that they had eyes on you for a while now. An oversight on our part, won’t happen again,” he assures you. “Gotta give them props for that, at least.” 

Kieran, now getting in the passenger side of the vehicle, shoots him a look. 

“Anyway, we’re glad we got to you before they did anything… worse,” Kieran continues, then winces in a show of mock sympathy. “Can’t say the same to that fucker back inside. Haven’t felt Sylus’ bloodlust this strong in a long while.” 

You try to focus on their words, but you feel yourself nodding off as the remaining adrenaline slowly leaves your body. You know you should feel more worried about what the two were insinuating, but your mouth still tastes like you swallowed a bunch of coins and you just want a soft bed to sleep in for an entire day. Or three. 

“Oi, no sleeping. Doctor’s orders,” A snapping finger in front of your face forces you awake. 

You blink your tired eyes open in an attempt to stay lucid, the pulsing pain in your head becoming more prominent as soon as the threat of danger has passed. 

“This is gonna be a long night,” you sigh, wishing that Sylus will keep his word and be quick about… whatever he’s planning to do with your abductor. 

–––––

There hasn’t been much left of the man who proclaims to be the new head of an arms syndicate Sylus had dealt with in the past. He recalls the history of his relationship with the cartel being less than cordial, but nothing that would warrant his ire. Except for tonight.

He usually doesn’t leave a trace when doling out punishments; no, not anymore. Not in recent years. He prefers to be efficient about his killings, dissipating any evidence in thin air after reducing them into fine paste, rather than make a big show out of it. Quick and precise.

Except today… Someone had the arrogance, the absolute audacity to steal directly from the dragon’s nest.

The contents of which have always been kept in strict confidentiality. What is known, only chosen individuals bound to secrecy are privy to, and a lot of people would kill for. 

But unbeknownst to anyone else but its owner, only one thing in this hoard of secrets truly matters to the dragon. One solitary treasure alone he would burn planets for—and someone has tried to steal it.

Harm. the treasure. To get to him. 

It seems as if the new bloods needed a reminder of who, exactly, they’re stealing from. 

One who dwells deep within the underbelly of the cities both monster and men inhabit, that even the most heinous of sinners seeking solace in the dark, are afraid of. 

And what retribution tastes like to those who are foolish enough to bite more than what they can chew.

The poor soul unfortunate enough to be the first one to discover the carnage will witness that what was left of the man that had wronged the Onychinus kingpin is now stuck on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of a basement where the treasure was held captive. They will find that the man’s innards are deliberately hung in a haphazard fashion, in all corners of the room like bloody, sinewy tinsel. 

And the centerpiece of this bloodbath is none other than the man’s decapitated head, forcibly attached to the hanging light in the middle of the room. A bulb crudely drilled past his cranium, while blood dripped down the floor in slow, ominous rivulets. 

They will understand in dawning horror that the one responsible for this... gross butchery, has left the head swinging. That the man’s mouth will forever remain agape in an eternal scream to immortalize the exact moment he realizes the gravity of his sin.   

Yes, Sylus is more than glad to remind them. 

_____

You arrive a quarter past four AM. 

Barely taking a step past the foyer, the twins immediately whisk you inside to perform an ‘emergency patch-up.’ Luke’s words, not yours.

“We’re your personal CNA while waiting for the head nurse to take over,” he explains cheerfully, wrapping another layer of gauze around your wrist. You hiss when Kieran dabs a cotton ball on the gash on your temple, peroxide fizzing as it comes in contact with the dried-up blood. Muttering out a “sorry!” Kieran does quick work in cleaning the injury and covering the affected area.

In no time at all, all visible wounds are bandaged and disinfected. The worst of your head wound had to be stitched up, but other than that, nothing seems to require immediate medical attention. There’s nothing left for you to do but to bear the aches that came along with the bruises – especially on your tender midriff – and to pop a tylenol for your throbbing headache.

You offer them a sincere, “Thanks. No, really.” before they leave you in Sylus’ room, after multiple reminders to “not sleep before the attending nurse arrives for the final diagnosis.” 

(You think they might have enjoyed playing caretaker a little too much.) 

With a lot more effort than you care to admit, you painstakingly remove your bloodstained clothes until you're down to your underwear, before draping yourself in a large, red, silk robe. A hot shower sounds heavenly to your sore muscles, but the soft mattress is calling to you more so you head straight to bed. 

With nothing else to occupy yourself with, you prop your head on a mountain of pillows – to keep yourself relatively upright – and let out a sigh. 

Tonight had been a shitshow. All you wanted was something to snack on while you binge through the last season of the show you were watching back at your apartment; you never thought a late-night run to the store just a few blocks away would result in… this. If not for Sylus’ intervention, you’re sure you'd be leaving with a lot more than a couple of scrapes. If not worse.

You're lost in your own thoughts when short, successive raps on the door catch your attention. It swings open before you have the chance to pipe out a, “come in!”

Speak of the devil.

Sylus enters the room, not a hair out of place. You notice that he’s changed into a casual, brown sweater and a pair of dark-washed jeans. His eyes meet yours, tightly-controlled expression relaxing as he crosses the room towards the side of your bed, wasting no time. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Still pretty sore, but Luke and Kieran already handled the worst of my injuries,” you answer, making a move to sit up. Sylus tuts disapprovingly, gentle as he puts a hand on your chest to prevent you from moving any further. He sits gingerly on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle you. Once fully settled, he let out a deep sigh.

“You had me worried for a moment there, kitten.” He admits, a slightly rough edge to his voice as emotion seeps into it. He regards you intently, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re here, safe. 

Your hand reaches out towards his face. Without missing a beat, he leans in to nuzzle your palm, eyes closing shut. He reminds you of a big wolf, unbridled fire simmering beneath the surface, yet tame in the presence of his handler. 

“I’m fine now, thanks to you,” you assure him with a lopsided smile. “Give my thanks to Mephisto, as well. Tell him he gets a pass on the stalking this time.” 

Sylus opens his eyes, a hint of amusement and something else you can’t identify flickering through. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll be lucky if that bird gives you the privacy to bathe alone after tonight,” he jokes. 

He’s joking. Right?

You eye him for a moment before deciding to let it go. You're too tired to argue.

Instead, you cautiously ask a question you aren’t sure you even want the answer to. “What happened after we left?” 

Sylus expression doesn’t change except for the upward tick on the corner of his mouth; the same peculiar glint in his eyes coming across a little stronger. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. You don’t need to worry about anyone coming for you.”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

He hums. “Do you really want to know?”

You stare at him, and he stares back at you placidly. 

You purse your lips and look away. “Maybe not.” 

Sylus breathes out a laugh. He gently grasps your chin between his forefinger and thumb, guiding your head to meet his gaze once more. A softer look on his face, inching closer to yours.

Your heartbeat slightly picks up. In your vulnerable state, you feel a welling desire to bare your feelings to the man in front of you. You want to tell him how relieved you felt when you saw him in that cursed basement, how he was able to quell your fears with just his presence alone the moment he appeared in a familiar haze of black and red. Like your own, personal, vindictive guardian. 

Instead, you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his. 

Sylus groans quietly, a hand cupping your face as he leans closer to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of contentment from being this close to him. You feel, more than you see, how his taut body loses the remaining tension from the events that transpired just mere hours ago, how he finally relaxes as he loses himself in you.

Very carefully, he eases you further down, cradling your head with one hand until it rests on a pillow. His lips drift to the corner of your mouth, trailing soft kisses up to the apples of your cheeks, your forehead, then to your nose. 

He pulls back slightly, chuckling when you make a sound of discontent. When you open your eyes, you see him looking at you—half-lidded and tender. 

In a low voice, he instructs, “Rest. You need it.”

The feeling of exhaustion pulls you in, but before you surrender to it, you remind Sylus, “I’m not that fragile, you know. You don’t have to worry too much.” You poke his cheek and he catches the offending digit to bite it affectionately. “I’ll be up and running in no time.”

He doesn't speak for a minute, considering your words. His mouth sets into a thin line before letting out a sigh.

“And if you get hurt again? What then?" He whispers so quietly, seeming as if he's talking to himself.

"I'll get hurt again, that's for sure," You tell him, matter-of-factly. "But really, that’s just an occupational hazard. I’m sure you realize."

“Love — what a terrible, little thing,” he muses, half-forlornly, half in jest. "I’d rip this cold heart out and throw it in flames if I could.”

While speaking, his hand finds its way into the tangles of your hair, gently running his fingers through the strands in a lulling manner. His lips landing on the crown of your head softly. Reverently.

You hum sleepily.

“Of course you would, Sy.”

_____

“You’ll be glad to know that the artifact you had your eye on back at the auction will be arriving this Wednesday.” 

“Huh? But I thought it was already sold to someone else?”

Sylus shrugs. “I made a counteroffer.” 

“You didn’t have to. I told you it was fine.” 

“I know. But I also recall a certain someone telling me how much they wished they had placed a bid on it on our way back,” he pinches your cheek fondly. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s yours.”

“Oh. Well– thank you,” you yawn in response, leaning your head to rest against his palm.

His thumb strokes your cheek. “Anything for you.”

[jiuwi]

hiii! hope you’re doing well,, can i request a pt. 2 of them being away at training camp with kageyama, ushijima, iwaizumi, and atsumu? (by no means do u have to do all 4) i really enjoyed the first one!! thank you so much <3

THEY’RE AWAY FOR TRAINING CAMP (PT. 2)

𖦹 part 1 here! ; ft. kageyama, ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu

notes: THANK U NONIE!! i hope you enjoy this one as well ^_^

𖦹 KAGEYAMA TOBIO

unknowingly reaches for his phone after training. sure, he’s miles away from home, yet he finds himself staring blankly at the screen for five whole minutes before hearing tsukishima snort from behind him.

“if you miss them so bad, just call. gosh, will a tiger bite your ass if you do?” tsukishima shrugs and leaves the room.

definitely feels embarrassed after tsukishima’s suggestion but agrees nonetheless.

his heart immediately flutters once he hears your voice. he hugs his knees and curls up somewhere in the corner of the room, listening to you speak.

“tobio? are you listening?” you ask for the 10th time, then as if on cue, he snores. oh.

𖦹 USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

golden retriever energy !!!

conversations with him are always:

“baby, i miss you :(”

“give me a hug once i get home please”

goes on facetime and tours you around the camp, ignoring the knowing stares of his acquiantances that are silently judging him for being all sweet and cutesy around you.

gets so clumsy while touring you around ( accidentally drops his phone, trips on a staircase, etc. )

your dynamic is basically—you asking him a question and him humming shyly in response.

𖦹 IWAIZUMI HAJIME

mr. “need you, miss you.”

late night calls are always present in your relationship

would take a midnight jog around the campus while listening to you talk about your day

ALWAYS waits for you to end the call first

“hajime?” your voice, soft and tired, silently yawns his name. he hums softly, leaning towards the speaker of his phone.

“sleepy?”

“yeah” you reply, and he smiles softly. “mn, okay. good night, let’s talk again tomorrow.” then a few seconds later, he hears your soft, peaceful breaths through the speaker, and he figured that you already fell asleep and forgot to end the call.

𖦹 MIYA ATSUMU

claims that he “misses you like crazy, it’s insane.”

definitely gets all whiny around everyone, especially osamu ( said twin later takes a picture of atsumu all splayed out on the floor and squirming like a baby )

“ew, can you stop doing that?”

“samu, you’re so mean!”

“i’ll really send this to y/n if you don’t stop.”

sighs a LOT. is also frustrated a LOT. so whoever’s practicing with him has to deal with his monster sets without a break.

[bunny-jpeg]

overstimulation

max verstappen (mv33)

tags: smut/pwp, university student!reader, stress relief, facetime, mutual masturbation, dirty talk/degrading language, established relationship, loving!max

a/n: you ever played god with your caffeine consumption. i have, and it sucks!

you could hear the ticking of the clock in your room as you sat there hunched over your textbooks. why did a class need so many textbooks? the ticking of the clock was like like your racing heart, everything felt so loud in your head. like shouting in an empty room.

you were over-caffeinated, horribly stressed and yet no information was getting through your thick skull! which only added to the frustration. you needed to pass this exam, you needed to graduate!

but even the words on the page felt smudged in your mind as you tried to wipe the restlessness out of your vision.

maybe it was time for rest. you looked at the time on your computer screen, it was well past midnight. you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands. you exhaled deeply and dropped your arms onto the desk.

your phone pinged and you sadly looked over to it and saw the name flash on the screen "maxie". he felt like he was a million miles away right now, you didn't want to bother him with your currently conundrum. he had a race to win this weekend, he didn't need to worry about you having a panic attack over an exam.

you looked away from your messy notes and picked up the phone. you unlocked it and saw the text from him, "hope the studying is going well, i am free in about half an hour if you wanted to facetime before you went to bed. remember i love you and i'm cheering you on for your exam just as much as you're cheering me on."

you frowned at the text message, not because it was upsetting you. but, because he was cheering you on. as the girlfriend, you were supposed to cheer him on. you sighed and leaned back against your chair and looked at your phone for a moment. nothing was going to change the state of your exhaustion and stress, for sure not another coffee. max already gave you looks from your enjoyment of the drink, you could only imagine how he'd look when he found out how many cups you've had in just this night.

"sounds good, just give me five mins before you wanna call. love you." you replied before you turned off the lamp by your desk and closed your laptop. at the very least you could enjoy a brief call with your boyfriend. you got up and stretched your arms over your head. you heard your back crack from the shrimp position you were in most of the evening. you could feel the bags under your eyes.

you rubbed your eyes once more before you got into bed. you laid out across the queen sized bed with your phone near your head. you yawned loudly and waited. it felt nice lying in the quiet of your room. you felt a small excitement however, when your phone rang. you grabbed it and saw it was max calling you. you answered the phone and saw a good look at max's face.

he smiled when he saw you, but then it dropped as he said, "you look tired. have you been sleeping? tell me you've been sleeping." he looked comfortable on the hotel room bed, it made you partially wish that you were there beside him. curled up under his arm and kissing at his face. and him kissing more intimate areas.

"i have been... trying to sleep. you know i want to do well. i've just been so stressed out."

he sighed, "my treasure." he shifted on the bed a little, "if i was there right now, you know i'd make it all better." his tone was inviting, it drew you in as you caught a brief glimpse of the bulge in his sweatpants. ah, he needed some stress relief too.

"i know." you said, "you kept asking if i'd go with you this weekend. you know i'll be with you next weekend, after the exam is over." you shifted in your spot on the bed, "but, maybe.... you could tell me exactly how you'd make me feel better."

max chuckled, there was a glimmer in his blue eyes as he said, "ah, is someone pent up. i guess that would make sense, i left so early that i didn't give you the love you deserved before i left." his said lowly, "i want to see your face while you pleasure yourself... and no toys, i don't need any help making you cum."

you swallowed and managed to get the phone propped up some pillows so max could see you. he did the same, you got a good look at his cock out of his sweatpants. it made you shudder a little at the sight of it. he wasn't the largest in the world, but it was enough to make you squirm. you could remember how it made you feel.

"there she is." he purred, "even on a shit phone screen you look so beautiful. are you wearing my shirt?" he inquired which made you shudder.

you nodded and pushed up the shirt a little bit. nothing too fancy, just one of his. you giggled, "i wanted to feel closer to you. it's hard to study all alone."

max knew more about your area of study now than he did before he met you. he said, "well, if i was there." he said softly, "if i was there right beside you on the bed." he watched your expressed shift as you started to pleasure yourself. he licked his lips and started to stroke his cock, "fuck, if i was there. i'd have you on your side so you could study and i'd move myself up against you. get myself between your legs from behind and fuck you slowly. can't have you lose focus, this is an important exam." he swallowed. you were beautiful.

"max."

"you know i'd make you feel good. maybe we could put the test if you could remember more if i made you finish over and over and over again." his voice was low, his tone was seductive. it left a curl of want through you.

you panted, "i don't think that'll help much, anytime i'd think of an answer i'd just think about your fucking me." you tensed up a little as you continued to play with yourself. even through the phone you could feel max's gaze on you and it left you needy in ways you couldn't formulate into words

"wouldn't that be so bad?" he asked, "middle of your exam, the exam of your life and all you can think about, not the questions, but my cock inside of you. my hands around your neck as i push you back and forth of my cock. you like that don't you? you like how i make you feel." his words were like honey off his tongue that spread across your head, it left you wanting more. you wished max was here at that moment to put his words to use.

your hand would be just fine, but you knew that max's cock would make the experience feel so much better. to fuck you with a feverish pace, to have the bed creak under you.

the man had such a grasp on you. he knew exactly how to make your core twist with want. you continued to rub your hand up against your clit, you gasped a little louder and found yourself tensing up. you felt flushed, which only grew with the sound of max's voice and heavy pants. he was feeling good as well.

"i wish you were here. beside me. so i could make you feel good. i always love how your face looks when i make you cum so beautifully. you look like a dream under me. oh fuck, even on top. as long as i make you feel good, i don't care exactly how to make you squirm. fuck, you're a dream come true. even over the phone, i need you. i want you." he groaned through a tense jaw as he continued to stroke his cock.

"fuck, max." you groaned. if you didn't have an exam so soon, you would've been on the next flight out. you would've been with him and in his arms. you would've sucked him off while you played with your clit. you would've fucked him until the stress was totally out of his body.

"you're so beautiful. i want you to cum for me, i want you to feel good. that's what my treasure deserves, to feel her best. especially when she's going to ace that exam." he groaned as the thrusts of his hand became more erratic, pre-cum made the tip of his cock shiny and went down his hand as he fucked his fist.

it didn't take long before you felt the surge of pleasure through you and with a few more heavy moans, you came against your hand. you soaked your panties as you rode out your pleasure. it left sparks in your mind as you shuddered from a deep want.

"fuck." he gasped.

you whined a little bit, a small strangled moan came from your lips and made your pulse race. you felt it hard to be loud when you were all alone. you could wake up the entire red bull team if it was you and max, but alone you were a little more quiet.

max was only egged on by your sweet noises, he continued to stroke his cock in a feverish manner. he felt the excitement leap in his bones. it felt like a live wire as he quickly made himself finish, cum dripped over his fist. pearly white cum over his hand as he jerked himself off through orgasm. you got a perfect view of his weepy cock as he slowed his movements.

he near wheezed out, "fuck..." and then relaxed, a movement that made the phone topple over for a moment. you could hear rustling and when you could see his flushed expression once more. he was smiling like an idiot, cheeks bright pink.

you relaxed, you hand felt soaked from being between your legs. you looked at the screen from the odd angle and smiled at him, "that.. that really helped." you swallowed and felt the blush spread through your cheeks.

"anything to help you, my treasure." he said softly "you'll do well on the exam?" he asked.

you nodded, "surprisingly, i have a little more confidence." you giggled, you felt much more relaxed as you laid on the bed, "i miss you though. it's not exactly the same."

max exhaled deeply and then smiled once more, "well, maybe i can come get you after your exam. and you can cheer me on during the next race. i need my good luck charm." he chuckled a little. from his expression, how he gazed at you. he was very much in love with you, and you loved him back.

"i think i need a break tonight, from the studying." you got comfortable in bed with the covers soon over your shoulders, "tell me all about the drama on the paddock... something where i don't have to think about school."

max laughed, "well, let me tell you what is going on between carlos and oscar." and as you listened to him ramble about the gossip on the track. you were finally able to relax.

studying could be a worry for tomorrow <3

[ventismacchiato]

O8.5 stuck with you — idols inferno !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

YAE MIKO: Welcome cuties to "Idols Inferno," or I², where idols ignite sparks in a tropical paradise! Here’s a comprehensive guide on how our upcoming and hot dating show will unfold!

1. Island Oasis: Our contestants, members from two different idol groups, DELUSION AND WINDBLUME, will embark on a journey to a stunning island getaway. They'll leave behind the glamor of the stage to immerse themselves in the raw beauty of nature.

idols inferno island! doesn’t seem like much…

2. Living Arrangements: While they compete for hearts, our idols reside in a cozy dormitory area. Each contestant will be able to enjoy their own private rooms, but will be sharing a dorm building with all the other contestants. Don’t get too excited, these dorms are designed to be as uncomfortable as morally possible in order to motivate our idols to work harder for the rewards!

an adjustment from the life our idols are used to!

3. Survival and Romance: Here’s the twist! Our idols aren’t just here for love—they’re also here to survive. From beachside cookouts to forging alliances, they'll fend for themselves while navigating the highs and lows of island life. The kitchen will be replenished with ingredients every two days, but contestants will be expected to put together meals on their own everyday. A water well will be located a mile away from the kitchens, contestants will have to trek to fill up their containers everyday. 

4. Games and Challenges: Throughout the journey, our contestants engage in thrilling challenges designed to test their teamwork and chemistry. Picture competitive strength challenges like partner piggyback rides or hilarious two-legged races on the beach! Make sure to tune in because the weather is hot, which means less fabric to wear! ;)  

5. Confession Box and Matchmaking: After every activity, participants visit the confession box to anonymously choose another contestant they are interested in. Matched pairs have the chance to enjoy better food, upgraded accommodations, and even a night in a nearby five-star hotel instead of the usual shitty dorms!

note: example image does not depict show events

6. Contestant Dynamics: With a total of 13 contestants, including 3 mystery guests to be revealed at a later date, tensions and emotions run high as new arrivals shake up existing connections. 

oh whoever could these be?

7. Interviews and Real-Time Updates: The end of every episode features intimate interviews with one of the contestants, offering viewers insights into their thoughts and emotions. Episodes are recorded and edited the following day, ensuring they're posted by midnight for viewers to keep up with the drama and romance in real-time.

Amidst palm trees and pristine beaches, bonds deepen and sparks fly as our idols explore their connections. Will they find lasting love or simply a lifelong friendship?

In the end, hearts will be won and memories made as our idols return home, forever changed by their time on "Idols Inferno." Tune in to not miss a second!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

guys i drew/edited that map myself cus i wanted this to make sense pls tell me you like it i know it’s extra but 🤗

short mini chapter to explain the show i’ll explain anything else if i need to in later chapters xx

also pretty obvious if ur chronically online but can you guess who the mystery guests are? 😍

synopsis after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — after this ad break we will get back into the story xx

taglist closed — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @kazuhasbabe

[explorevenus]

addicted ♡ re2r!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call the cops

word count - 2.9k

description - by the end of the summer, you're bound for college and your boyfriend leon is bound for his shiny new police officer job in raccoon city. knowing your relationship could be threatened by the distance, your need for each other has become insatiable.

tags/warnings - porn with plot, soft dom leon, car sex, cunnilingus (f receiving), fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, mildly angsty, no use of (Y/N)

a/n - this was a request by my beautiful goth puppy wife chaos baby @nexysworld <333 special thanks to @dollfacefantasy for beta reading and believing in me and also being my momager <3

recommended listening - addicted by saving abel

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w; <3

-venus ♡

Young adulthood felt so scary and new and weird.

You and Leon had been dating since high school and now you were fully legal adults, figuring out what to do with your lives and pretending you would both fit together seamlessly in each other’s plans. Just weeks ago he had graduated from the police academy and you had until the end of the summer to spend as much time together as possible before he would move into the city to become an officer, and you would be moving states away to attend college.

You told each other you would visit as often as possible, that you would call every day, that as soon as you finished school you would move back to Raccoon City to be with him, or he would find a hiring police station near you to settle into, and you would live happily ever after.

But there was a silent, knowing melancholy that hung over you all the while, and it intensified every day. Neither of you wanted to address it, for fear of spoiling what little time you had left, so it just hung there unspoken as you clung to each other for dear life.

Leon knocked quietly on your door, hoping not to wake your roommates. It was a crisp, clear summer evening and the forecast indicated a meteor shower would be visible, so as soon as he finished up at work, he took the top off of his Jeep, loaded the back with blankets and made his way to you.

His heart softened at the image of you wrapped in a blanket, ducking out of your apartment to follow him out to the car. It was nearing midnight and you were already in pajamas, but it felt right that way. Comfortable. 

Soon enough you were sipping slushies from the gas station, your sneakers kicked up on the dashboard and the wind rushing through your hair as Leon drove the two of you up the base of the Arklay Mountains. There was a little lookout tucked away less than five miles up, one you frequented together practically since you met. This lookout had seen numerous makeouts and unquantifiable hours of conversation, silly and stupid and serious and solemn.

The car slowed to a stop and Leon threw it in park, moving his seat back so he could get comfortable. His lips were stained pink with cherry slush as he looked over to you with a gentle smile.

“Pretty, huh?” He asked, watching as you stared up at the sky, awe-filled eyes searching every gap in the void for a shooting star. His warm, broad hand still rested on your thigh, thumb skimming over the soft fabric of your sweatpants in a gentle caress. 

Relaxing into his touch, you nodded, looking over at him now. Your own lips and tongue were tinted blue and what remained of your slushie was cold in the palm of your hand. It was funny, you thought, that you’d driven all the way out here to watch the meteor shower but still, you couldn’t help but watch each other. The breeze blew warm and the radio played lowly.

“You’re pretty,” You replied quietly, playing with his fingers. Even having been together for years, he still managed to make you shy.

Leon let out a soft laugh and shook his head, his other hand coming forward to tip your chin up. “You’re pretty too,” He began, and you were just beginning to blush when he added, “Pretty corny.”

You threw your head back and groaned dramatically, swatting at his chest. “You’re pretty annoying,” You griped, but before you could continue your playful rant, he guided you back toward him and pressed his lips against your own, and just like always, you melted almost instantaneously. 

At the start the kiss was quite tender, communicating a sense of longing and connection that you had only ever felt with him. His thumb traced your jaw while his grip tightened on your thigh in an affectionate little squeeze and you felt as though you could sit here with him forever, craning your neck over the center console of his Jeep just to kiss him beneath the stars, just to breathe him in, to be with him. Leon was your safe place and even the thought of being away from him sent you into withdrawals.

Your shaking hand came up to cradle the back of his neck, fingers curling into his golden hair as you took it upon yourself to deepen the kiss, wanting to get as much of him as you could. You wanted to horde him all to yourself, you wanted to sink into him and have him sink into you, to pause time and keep him there until you were sick of each other, though you knew no length of time together would ever feel like enough. Tongue swiping against his lower lip, you flattened your palm over the crotch of his jeans and massaged gently.

“F-Fuck, baby,” Leon grunted into your mouth, feeling all the blood rush to his cock in response to your touch and your languid kisses. “I’m gonna miss this…”

“Don’t,” You whispered, “I don’t wanna talk about it… Just wanna feel you…”

With a short nod of understanding he reconnected your lips, sliding his hand beneath the waistband of your sweatpants to dip a finger into your folds, delighted at the realization that you had gone without panties for the evening. He grinned into the kiss and slipped his tongue past you, the pads of his fingers quickly finding your clit with practiced ease.

Your lashes fluttered and your thighs shifted together, a quiet mewl of pleasure tumbling from you as you bucked up into his hand. With each passing second your heart was beating faster and you could feel the wetness collecting beneath his touch.

“Mm, my pretty baby,” He sighed out, the pad of his thumb flicking at your clit while his middle and index fingers petted at your hole. “Put your seat back. Let me taste you.”

There wasn’t a beat of hesitation as you reached down to recline your seat and push it back, and as you did so, Leon was making quick work of climbing over the center console to join you in the passenger seat. He gripped your thighs and pushed your legs up to rest on the dashboard as he yanked your sweatpants down in one swift motion, wasting no time smothering your plush inner thighs with kisses.

His pupils dilated by the scent of your cunt alone, and while he initially planned on taking his time with you, he just couldn’t help himself. Cramped down on the floor of his own passenger seat, Leon’s fingertips printed into your thighs as he dove forward to kiss and lap at your wetness, drinking you up with a deep, wanton need. 

You tensed at the feeling, glittery heat washing over you before you relaxed into his mouth and brought one hand down to tug at his hair, encouraging him further. Your hazy eyes blinked open to look straight up at the sky, the cool night air foreign on your most intimate parts, but not unwelcome. It was quiet out, serene, private, as though you and Leon were the last two people on Earth. A shooting star cast across the sky in a blur, and you quickly realized that your wish was for you and Leon to be the last two people on Earth. Maybe that would be nice. At least your time together wouldn’t be so limited.

Losing Leon felt like losing a limb, even if he was only moving a few hours away to the other side of the mountain. Another shooting star streaked across the night sky, and you barely even noticed you had said something until you already finished speaking, “I wish you could stay… I feel like I can’t breathe without you…”

He hummed into your slick pussy, tongue swirling over your bud before pulling back just far enough to respond, “Not talking about it, baby, remember?”

Your face scrunched up a little bit as you realized your mistake and nodded, returning your focus to the glittering stars above you while your boyfriend sucked and licked at your cunt like he was starving. Soon enough his middle and index fingers were prodding at your hole, tracing the shape of you before sinking deep into your sticky, wet heat, your needy walls sucking him in.

What you didn’t know was that Leon had been focusing so much pleasure on you over the summer because it felt like making up for what he wouldn’t be able to do from thousands of miles away in the fall. You were the only thing he could bring himself to think about since roughly halfway to graduation at the police academy, when he was beginning to pester Raccoon City Police Department with his exemplary test scores and ever-growing resume– by the end of the year you would have both gone so far in separate directions, and long distance wasn’t something you ever excelled at. He knew that the day he left for Raccoon City, he would be effectively nailing the coffin shut.

So he bided his time by fucking you senseless almost daily, eating you out, pinning you down and driving you to tears with your toys, feeling every inch of you beneath his hands just so he wouldn’t forget. Every moan, every mewl, every whimper and sob and plea from you was like music to his ears, like pure heroin directly to the vein. Just like a drug, the better it felt in the moment, the more he knew it would hurt you both later on.

He felt you bucking into his nose and whining quietly, and every twitch of your muscles made his cock throb in his jeans. Leon couldn’t take it anymore, he needed you now.

Pulling back from your core, Leon moved quickly to undo his belt and shove his jeans down his thighs, desperate for some relief from the pressure and intoxicating desire. He was already dribbling precum just from the taste of you, a distinct wet patch growing at the front of his soft blue boxers that soon joined his pants down his legs, and shortly thereafter he was clumsily crawling over you in the passenger seat of his Jeep.

Almost like muscle memory, your arm fell behind you in a blind search for your purse in the back seat. You quickly retrieved it, digging through its contents as Leon’s hands shoved their way up your shirt to paw at your breasts, devouring your throat with kisses, making it a little difficult to maintain your focus. Finally you found what you were looking for, fingers coming into contact with that trusty little box… only to find it empty.

“L-Leon… mm, babe, hey,” You panted in an attempt to gather his attention. He hummed a barely noticeable sound of acknowledgment, but otherwise didn’t budge. You let him continue for a lingering second before breaking the news in a near whisper, “Leon, we’re out of condoms…”

He paused, breaths short and hips rutting into your own with need, his woefully hard cock grinding against your slit. While his body acted on its own in search of any friction he could get, his mind was spinning. He knew you weren’t on birth control and he knew a risk like this could ruin everything you’d both worked so hard for… but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

In fact, it sort of spurred him on.

He buried his face into your neck again and sucked a harsh, dark mark into your skin, a feeling of possessiveness taking root in him. “Then we’re gonna risk it,” He said definitively, his voice low and almost growling in your ear. “Just think about it, sweetheart… Maybe if you let me knock you up, you can forget all about college… I could just whisk you away to the city with me and take care of you for the rest of our lives…”

A rush of heat struck you like a moving car and knocked the air out of your lungs. You knew it would be stupid to throw away your scholarships and every dream you’d had for yourself on a whim, but it was admittedly a nice fantasy at the very least. Arching into the palm of his hand, you relented.

“F-Fuck, fuck… Fuck me, Leon, please, just fuck me…”

And just as you anticipated, he took you up on that. A cool breeze rushed through the open vehicle as he lined himself up at your hole and drove into you, his vision going white for a second just at the intensity of the pleasure he felt, being engulfed by you again. Your body was heaven on Earth to him, you were heaven on Earth to him. 

He sheathed into you down to the hilt with a low groan, one hand clutching your hip and the other tangled in your hair. Leon tugged your head aside by your hair so he could speak directly into your ear, “You’re mine, you hear me? All mine. My girl, my wife, my pretty little baby mama…”

Each declaration was punctuated by a thrust of the hips, his swollen, leaking cock stuffed so deeply inside you that it was almost like you could feel him in your throat. Any and all concerns about your future, individually and as a couple, burned to ash in the far back of your mind as he fucked into with fervor. In this moment, Leon was all that mattered.

You quivered and writhed beneath him, your gummy insides pulsing and clenching around his length, and even with the top off the Jeep, the windows were beginning to accumulate a subtle fog on them. The two of you were hot and slick with sweat, drowning in the heat of each other and the late summer air.

“Leon,” You moaned, nails biting into his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, for any shred of stability. “Make me yours…”

At this point, you couldn’t even tell if you were serious, and similarly to Leon, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were drunk on him and everything about him, the warmth of his skin, the pheromones that clung to his sweat, the strong grip of his hands and the sound of his breaths and the feeling of him railing into you like you were made for each other. 

“Plannin’ on it, baby,” He said in response, words breathy and a smug grin tugging at his lips. He let go of your hair to plant his hand against the window as he increased his pace, plunging into you with ardor, his balls heavy and aching for release. “Gonna keep you all to myself, give you everything you ever wanted.”

The hand of his that was holding your hip just a moment ago was now wedging itself down between you to rub steady circles into your clit. You jolted at the contact, an incoherent cry tumbling from you, molten heat pooling up in your stomach. His earlier ministrations left both him and you especially sensitive and nearing your climaxes.

He could feel your peak approaching through the way you were convulsing around him, your wet cunt tightening and pulling him deeper with each stroke until he couldn’t even think anymore. Every last one of his senses was clouded– no, drenched with you. His pace stuttered just a little bit as he decided he couldn’t possibly hold back any longer.

With a loud, pleasured groan of your name, Leon stilled inside you as a torrent of cum flooded your waiting womb, warming you from the inside. What finally pushed you over the edge into your own release was Leon’s sly fingers tugging and pinching at your bud with expertise.

“G-God, fuck,” You sobbed, breaking skin as your nails raked down his strong back and gripped him as close to you as you could manage. Tears were pricking at your eyes as you coated his cock with your release, leaving behind a creamy white ring of arousal at the base of his softening sex.

Silence fell over the car as you clung to each other, broken only by your gasping breaths for oxygen. Leon buried his face into your shoulder and kissed the sizable hickie he’d left you earlier, still fresh and stinging.

“Did so good for me,” He huffed into your ear, nibbling at your lobe. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Eventually he pulled out, a sticky mixture of your juices dribbling out of your spent hole and down to the leather seat below you. As Leon climbed less than gracefully out of the passenger seat with his pants around his knees, you were both startled by the unexpected sight of headlights traveling up the very same mountain road that led you here, and the vehicle was pulling into the lookout.

“Shit,” Leon grumbled, rushing to fix his pants and toss you a blanket from the back seat to cover up with, given your sweatpants were lost somewhere on the floor of the car.

The intruding vehicle pulled up right behind Leon’s Jeep, headlights shining into the cabin as a person got out of the driver’s side… with a flashlight. Of course it had to be a cop.

Leon took a deep breath before rolling his window down with a polite smile. “Evening, officer… Nice night, isn’t it?”