#the ship we want but don’t deserve

[shihoerusu]

Ship: Talina

Talia Al Ghul x Selina Kyle

[heartless-aro]

The thing is, I don’t care that much about the actual act of someone shipping aromantic characters nearly as much as I care about the biases and amatanormative beliefs that underlie so many people’s decision to do so. The problem isn’t that individual people ship aromantic characters sometimes. It’s the fact that shipping aromantic characters or expressing disappointment that a character is aromantic and thus “can’t be shipped” almost seems to be the default in fandom spaces. Aromantic representation, especially nonpartnering aromantic representation, is treated as something that will “ruin people’s fun” (see: the Hazbin Hotel creator explaining why she won’t say whether or not Alastor is aromantic).

And yes, SOME aromantic people can still date or have non-romantic partners. But the fact that some people are so vehemently against the idea of fictional characters being nonpartnering is still something to be questioned.

Because, really, that’s the crux of the issue. It’s perfectly fine if people like the idea of an aromantic character being partnering or romance favorable. In fact, it would be wonderful to see more characters written as partnering and/or romance favorable aromantics. But when someone ONLY shows interest in characters being partnering or favorable aros in response to those same characters being interpreted as nonpartnering, it often comes across less as a desire to have representation for partnering and favorable aros and more as an opposition to having representation for nonpartnering aros.

[angy-grrr]

spoilers for chapter 429

idk if you guys remember but ochako does have parallels with All Might, specifically as the side who saves. It’s not that he feels the same for them both or something like that, they serve to represent the type of heroism he naturally goes to; his friend is not his love interest, from his perspective she’s out there having a crisis over not being able to save her, and Izuku reminds her that she is a hero bc she is his hero -she saved him multiple times, and she should be able to feel like a proper hero.

This conversation is not about the nature of their relationship, is about heroism; Izuku relates to a conflict between being a hero who saves and failing to save someone, and doesn’t want to see Ochako ending spiraling because she couldn’t also fulfill that role as expected. She’s his hero not because he loves her romantically -he’s a nerd I’m sure he would be way more nervous and blushing if he was confessing anything he thought was romantic- but because she’s able to go and do what All Might does to Izuku, save him physically and emotionally.

He knows she hides her feelings in order to not be a burden, yet he doesn’t talk about his own feelings outside of his guilt in heroics -what does he feel about losing OFA? About his own failures? About the people he personally lost? He can’t talk for others and claim Ochako is everyone’s hero, but he can speak for himself, and that’s his personal perspective -she is a hero to him, she’s his hero. And then the class appears to make sure she’s able to get support and understand she’s not alone, and she’s important to them too.

but Izuku doesn’t get support. Izuku cries a little and talks a little about himself, but he doesn’t get supported. If this was meant to be romantic, I don’t understand why he would hold back what’s inside of him.

the end of the chapter reveals that boy is going to be helped by that woman who regretfully ignored Tenko, and they both witness it and are happy about it while hearing izuku inspired that change, and iida wonders what’s up with them -this is the conclusion to their relationship. In their hearts these two are saviors who struggle to be heroes who save others, and they are happy there are appearing more people who want to be heroes like them. Heroes who save. Save like All Might.

That grandma for example, interpreting the narrative as what I think is intended, would be that boy’s All Might; she’s his hero.

Izuku and Ochako are heroes who save, and Deku is here to remind her at least she did save him many times, that she is still a hero because she is his hero. I don’t believe is meant to be interpreted as romantic, not that Izuku sees that phrase as it neither -after all, he said he does want to be like All Might and feels good to imitate him, but he doesn’t love him.

Ochako’s All Might hair moment, the parallels with Toshinori telling him he can be a hero, the trying to save from black suffocating quirks, the we can do it and do your best…

Do I need to remind you heroes arent a romantic thing for Izuku Midoriya?

[laughing-drawing-aces]

okay i absolutely hate the thinking that some people (ronancers) have of ‘why are you not shipping this w|w ship because of steve who is a man why are you depending a man’s feelings on a w|w ship’ maybe it’s because regardless of your gender or your sexuality screwing over and betraying a friend is exactly that! it has NOTHING to do with sexuality or gender! SCREWING OVER A FRIEND IS SCREWING OVER A FRIEND REGARDLESS OF WHAT YOU IDENTIFY AS!!

[yuripira4e]

I want to preface this post by saying that I love the cat king as a character, especially one that has such a major impact on Edwin and his relationship with his queerness and learning to be okay with it; HOWEVER, I also believe that everyone that genuinely believes he should be a love interest for Edwin should read this. (Also if you just like the cat king as a character and want to understand his character better and why his and Edwin’s relationship is not something that would be healthy or “real” for either)

[teafiend]

[jitteryjive]

i need to remake my cup bros ref… both cup and human designs… it’s been almost a year(?) and i’ve developed the headcanons and i would like to share with the class!!! (i wrote thirty tags. Please help me)

[allthepandasintheworld]

Man though I need to dig up some of the old art I have of René as a kid/teen… he was goth/emo as a young adult and i think it explains exactly why I’ve latched onto Silco so hard after season 2

[little-shiny-sharpies]

New frames of them got me beating the executive dysfunction slightly!!

[marauderingminnie]

So much of the current marauders fandom controversy wouldn’t even exist if people just tagged their posts right 😭😭

[bibleofficial]

i just ADORE a ‘post-exhaustion from crazy sudden onset reality check’ when u just sit down tired as fuck & ask urself ‘why did u do that’ bc u always end up going ‘u know what ur right … WHY did we do THAT ?’

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

See, this is why we can’t have nice things

Controversial Character Tournament Round 1: Castiel from Supernatural

[greengoblinswifey]

Redemption— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— you’re taken by Groff’s accomplices and you’re ex Rafe Cameron appears to save you unexpectedly. your past is full of pain but he’s determined to make things right.

warnings— ex to lovers, kidnapping, arguing, slight manipulation and coercion, oral(m&f receiving), fingering, choking, ass slapping, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Rafe hadn’t planned on being part of the treasure hunt again, but when he heard about the Groff connection and Sarah dragging you into it, he couldn’t stay away. It wasn’t about the money this time—though he wouldn’t say no to a cut or possibly stealing it for himself—it was about you. Despite everything, he still cared deeply, even if he didn’t show it the way you deserved.

Your relationship had ended months ago, crumbling under the weight of his issues and the way he treated your friends. You’d made it clear you didn’t want to see him again even during the trip. But when he found out you’d been kidnapped by Groff’s men, something inside him snapped. He couldn’t think straight until he had you back.

When he first showed up to give his help, your cold glare hit harder than any insult. “You shouldn’t be here, Rafe,” you’d said flatly, refusing to meet his eyes.

He tried to explain himself, but you cut him off. “I don’t trust you, not after everything. You treated my friends like garbage, and you don’t get to come in now and play the hero.”

“I’m not here to play the hero,” he’d said, voice low, almost pleading. “I’m here for you.”

But there was no time to dwell on old wounds. Chaos erupted, and by the time the dust settled, he’d saved you from Groff’s accomplices and now you were both hiding out in a grimy motel room.

“You didn’t have to come after me, Rafe,” you snapped, pacing the cramped space. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor. Especially not from someone who ditched us when we needed him.”

His jaw clenched as he leaned against the door. “You’re seriously saying that to me? You all left me to almost get arrested! Like I was nothing.”

“You were nothing when you couldn’t pick a side!” you fired back, glaring at him.

“I did pick a side,” he shot back, stepping closer, his voice dropping. “I picked you. That’s why I’m here.”

His words hung in the air, the weight of them undeniable. You scoffed, looking away, but your resolve wavered as he moved closer.

“You think I don’t care?” His tone softened, a crack in his armor. “You think I didn’t lose my mind when I heard they took you? I couldn’t—I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Your breath hitched, but you shook your head. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe’s hand caught your wrist gently, turning you to face him. His gaze burned, the anger and pain in his eyes mirrored in your own. “I’m here now,” he murmured. “Let me prove it.”

You didn’t have time to argue before his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was desperate, heated, and filled with all the unspoken emotions you’d both buried. Your fingers curled into his shirt as his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. The frustration and anger melted into something you couldn’t name, something that felt like it could destroy you both if you let it.

Rafe’s hands were everywhere, his lips trailing from your mouth to your neck with a desperation you hadn’t felt in months. You wanted to lose yourself in him, but the anger resurfaced, and you pushed him away, chest heaving.

“I can’t do this, Rafe. Not after how you’ve treated us—how you’ve treated me.”

His jaw clenched, but his voice was soft. “I got a ship for all of you. I stayed civil even after you tied me up. I’m here, trying to prove myself to you. I still want you. I can’t do this without you—I can’t be better without you.”

Your emotions threatened to spill over, but instead of crying or screaming, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. The kiss was fiery, tangled in resentment and longing, as his hands roamed your body again. His lips found your neck, and a moan escaped before you could stop it.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” you muttered, your voice shaky.

“Yeah?” His hand slid lower, brushing under the fabric of your outfit and finding your pussy. “Well, you’re wet for this piece of shit.” His voice was low, teasing, as his fingers found their way inside.

You gasped, torn between shame and pleasure. “You’re disgusting, Rafe. I can’t stand you.”

“And yet here you are, you’re a slut for liking this,” he whispered against your neck. “Hear how wet you are.”

The heat built unbearably, and you couldn’t stop yourself. As your body betrayed you, the orgasm was laced with mortification. You turned away, unable to meet his gaze, but he just smirked softly. “You can hate me all you want,” he said, his voice a murmur. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He slipped his fingers coated in your arousal in your mouth and your tongue swirled over them.

“Good girl,” he chuckled.

“You never know when to shut up, do you?” you snapped, rolling your eyes as Rafe smirked. His hands rested confidently on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I could say the same about you,” he quipped, his voice low and teasing. Before you could retort, he dropped to his knees, silencing you with his actions.

“Don’t,” you started, but the heat of his touch made your words falter.

“Stop pretending you don’t like it,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours, as he licked your pussy. Despite yourself, a soft moan escaped you.

“That’s what I thought,” he said smugly, and you could only glare as he gave a satisfied grin.

Rafe’s grip on your hips was firm, his strength keeping you in place despite your squirming. Your fingers tangled in his buzzed hair, tugging as whimpers slipped from your lips. His focus didn’t waver, and you felt yourself trembling under his relentless attention.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice breaking with a mix of defiance and surrender. But he didn’t stop until your entire body tensed, a soft moan escaping as you reached your peak. He looked up at you afterward, his expression smug and victorious.

Rafe leaned back, a smug grin on his face as he palmed his cock through his pants, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Look how hard you got me, baby,” he said, his voice low and confident. His hand moved slowly, emphasizing his words. “You used to always help me out with this, come on, suck daddy’s cock.”

The nickname made you wince, memories stirring. He saw the hesitation but leaned in closer, voice softer but insistent. “You know you want to,” he murmured, his gaze challenging, daring you to resist.

Rafe pulled his hard cock out, his size drawing a breathless reaction from you, it looked like he’d gotten bigger, if that was even possible. He chuckled, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Come on, baby. Help daddy out,” he coaxed, his tone a mix of command and temptation. Despite your resolve, you felt yourself falter, unable to resist the magnetic pull he always had on you.

Arching your back, your ass high in the air, you leaned down, taking him into your mouth. His groan was instant, his hand finding your waist before he smacked your ass. “That’s my good girl,” he muttered. You rolled your eyes and took him into your warm mouth, bobbing your head at the right pace to have him moaning. You used your hand to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth as his balls tightened and his breathing grew ragged. Just as he was about to release, you pulled away.

His laugh was one of disbelief. “You’re such a brat,” he muttered, shaking his head, though the amusement never left his eyes.

Rafe’s warm hands moved to your bare thighs, rubbing it slowly as he looked up at you with those blue eyes. He knew it was your weakness. You were already soaked but having him caress you like that practically turned you into a fountain. He had you right where he wanted you.

“My cock really misses that tight, wet pussy,” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

“Yeah? Well if you want to fuck me, you’re gonna have to beg,” you retorted.

Rafe let out a mocking chuckle, as if he couldn’t believe those words left your lips. His little baby wasn’t such a baby anymore.

“Seems like we’ve been apart for so long that you’ve forgotten, Rafe Cameron doesn’t fucking beg.”

He snaked his hand around your neck, pulling you into a heated, rough kiss. Your tongues slipped into each other’s mouth, the feeling one that made you melt. He pushed you onto the bed by your neck and took his position above you.

“You’ve also forgotten that this is my pussy and I saved you, I’ve fucking earned it,” he said, with that cocky smirk plastered on his face.

Everyone had their weakness, for Sarah it was John B, for Pope it was Cleo and for you— well, it was Rafe Cameron.

You spread your legs and he smirked, resisting to make a snarky comment as he dragged the head of his cock up and down your wet folds. He placed it on your clit, teasing you as you squirmed underneath him.

“Please,” you whimpered, wanting nothing more than to have him plunge his cock inside you,

“Look who’s begging now,” he said, darkly.

He lifted your legs around his waist and you locked them as he sank into your pussy. His hips bucked and his pace faltered as he had to slowly push in and wait for you to adjust to his size.

“So tight f’me, glad no one’s been inside this pussy since we broke up.”

You gave him a slight push on the chest but your attack was halted as he thrusted into you all the way. Your jaw fell slack as you gasped for air feeling him fill you to the brim.

“S’okay baby, just breathe, daddy’s here,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your lips.

He began rutting steadily inside you, whispering little praises that made your stomach flip. You wouldn’t admit it but a part of you missed having him above you like this. By now he had taken off his shirt, revealing the muscle underneath and the sweat glistening on his body. You ground against him, your clit getting the stimulation you desperately craved and sending pleasure through you.

“Oh God, daddy,” you moaned, meeting his thrusts faster.

“You gonna cum baby? That’s it, cum for me,” he murmured.

Rafe’s pace sped up, hitting the sweet spot inside you as your release hit you like a truck. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, your legs shaking as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

“Good girl, there she is,” he cooed, “I knew you wanted this too.”

“M-more,” you managed to croak out.

“Oh my baby wants more? You want daddy to fuck you even more? What a dirty little slut.”

He complied with your request, flipping you swiftly onto your stomach and pulling your hips up to him. You arched your back the way you knew he liked it and he kissed your ass before rubbing his cock along your folds.

“God baby, did I mention how much I missed this wet pussy?”

He slammed into you from behind, gripping your waist as he brought you back onto his cock, hard. Your ass clapped against him and he watched mesmerized as his cock disappeared inside you and came out covered in your cream and juices.

“Daddy,” you moaned, shamelessly as he rolled his hips into you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he had on that smug look and you gasped as he pressed your face into the pillow, pounding into you at a deeper angle.

“You really like that huh, fuck, your pussy is just gripping my cock so well baby, cum for daddy, cream all over my cock.”

He slapped your ass, basically giving you the go ahead as you shuddered under his touch, his name leaving your lips continuously as you creamed all over his cock. Unable to stop himself, he stilled inside you, his load spurting as he moaned your name and you felt his dick throb against your walls.

He rolled over, pulling out of you but not before spreading your ass to watch his cum drip out.

You stared up at the ceiling, wondering what you were doing with your life. You were in a random motel in Morocco and you hooked up with your ex after he saved you from kidnappers, meanwhile your friends were probably out looking for you, worried sick.

���Uh, we should go, they’re probably looking for me,” you sighed, getting up. He took a piece of cloth and wiped between your legs. Silence fell between you but oddly, it was a comfortable silence. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but care and sincerity. He really did come for you and was actually trying to change and do right by you all.

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ skz and the reason you aren't together !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: angst

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: i loveee me some angst so i hope you'll enjoy! <3 seungmin's part is slightly longer because i wrote it for my beloved keisy @starlostseungmin <3

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - he chose work over pursuing his feelings for you.

He knows how you feel about him, and you know how he feels about you. Things couldn’t be simpler.

But in reality, things were more complicated than ever. Yes, Chan did in fact confess, but with the same breath he also told you this could never go any further.

You were devastated, confused and sad, not understanding what was going on through that bright mind of his.

You liked each other, you both wanted this – so, what was the issue?

It wasn’t you, it could never be. It was him, as always.

He was too busy, his job too demanding to leave any room for you and the precious feelings you’ve developed for him.

Chan felt like he didn’t deserve your love, because he could never be there for you in the way you needed a boyfriend to be.

He could never be there every morning when you woke up, kiss you goodbye each time you left the house or greet you with a big hug when you returned. He just couldn’t, too caught up in work to even notice the hours tick by.

You didn’t deserve an absent lover, one that could not put you first.

No matter how much he cared, how much his whole being longed for you, his job would always be his main priority. Then, his seven brothers. While you, would end up being third on his list.

It pained him to admit it, and even more so admit it to you but since he respected you so much, you deserved nothing but the truth.

This information crushed you, every word that left his mouth a stone that contributed to the mountain you were quickly getting buried under.

“But I love you.”

He shook his head, brown curls getting into glossy eyes. “I love you too, but we – I, can’t.”

At the end, just as you were preparing to depart his studio, he stood up. Without thinking, you hugged tightly, aware this would be the last time before things would change forever.

“Please don’t be sad because of me.”

How could you not? How did he expect you to not mourn the beautiful relationship you could have had, if only he wasn’t so against it?

If only he would have chosen you.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - because he broke up with you.

Yeah, pro idol Minho ended your relationship on a random Thursday night, taking everyone but most importantly you, by complete surprise.

“Let’s break up.”

You can’t believe your ears, especially since you’re in his house, eating the food he just prepared for the both of you, in his kitchen while wearing one of his shirts.

Nothing was amiss, nothing even prompted it. Things have been going great in your relationship – there was no recent argument or disagreement that could explain his sudden decision.

Blames it on his work and his hectic schedule, trying to appear as detached and unaffected as he possibly could. But you know better; you see it all.

The way his fist clenches over the dish rag, how his eyes won’t meet yours even for a split second. This isn’t something he wants to do, not in the slightest. Yet, here he is, breaking both of your hearts for a reason he doesn’t even bother revealing.

It stings in the worst way possible, even more so when you stand up to hug him and he just puts a hand up, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please, Y/n. Don’t make this harder for me.”

Tears well up in your eyes and that’s when he looks away, slumping against the counter as a sniff reaches his ears. He’s gripping the wood with such force you’re afraid it might actually snap.

“Why are you doing this? What’s going on?”

But Minho doesn’t respond, not even as you start crying and begging him to talk to you, to tear down the wall he suddenly plopped right between you two in your relationship.

He’s so close, mere inches away, but his heart that belonged to you, that always responded to yours, is suddenly grabbed harshly out of your hands and shipped away to an unknown destination.

“Minho.” You sniff, not hiding your tears or the pain that’s slowly ripping your heart to pieces and letting them fall all the way down to your stomach, trying to escape from the torture. Because even the idea of not having him in your life was pure torture.

“I think you should go.”

He walks past you, head hung low as he throws the dish rag on the table without saying anything else, putting an end to the conversation. An end to your relationship. Throwing it all away like the time spent together meant absolutely nothing to him.

Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

But it wasn’t, not like he’d ever let see you the way he broke down as you slammed the front door shut, walking out of his life for good. Even if you didn’t agree, it was better this way.

Your life was better, and happier, without him in it. That’s what he kept murmuring to himself as he slid to the ground, against his bedroom door, crying while clutching his chest, afraid his heart might stop beating.

It was all for the better.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - is already in a relationship.

The most stupid thing you can ever do in this lifetime is fall in love with someone who’s already in love with another.

Not only is he in love, he’s also in relationship that’s been going on for three beautiful years.

The thing is, you haven’t always had feelings for Changbin.

It was weird, really. For the longest time now, he was just your bubbly co-worker who laughed so loud the whole department could hear him. The mood maker of the company.

It happened on the annual Christmas party, where you drunk a little too much as you were nursing a broken heart after your ex dumped you out of the blue.

The whole world was spinning but you were happy – happier than you’ve been in months.

Noticing you could barely stand, Changbin ever the gentleman, offered to drive you home.

You complained and complained but after some more convincing from him, Changbin managed to coax you onto the passenger seat of his sports car.

You were silent the whole ride but as he parked on your driveway, he gasped, worriedly grasping your hands and exclaiming about the tears on your cheeks. You didn’t even notice you were crying.

But that’s when the dam broke and it all came to the surface, tears flowing freely down your face and neck as you sobbed, telling Changbin everything from beginning to end.

And he listened, holding your hands and nodding when appropriate, offering you the occasional sip of water or a tissue to wipe your face, not interrupting once.

His heart broke for you, unaware his mere presence was already working on mending yours.

The next morning, you almost didn’t show up to work as you remembered everything, how you made a fool out of yourself in front of everyone but especially Changbin. But something pushed you to do so.

As you arrived, a care basket was on your desk, accompanied by a little note with a crooked smiley face and then, he appeared, doing the exact same expression.

And you laughed, wholeheartedly. And you continued to do so as you began taking your lunch breaks together, working side by side and even taking turns on driving the other home.

Falling for him was inevitable, but you didn’t mind, all warm and fuzzy on the inside as the heart your ex broke was anew.

That is, until you met her. You and Changbin became so close that he couldn’t help but want to introduce you to his other half, the woman who loved him unconditionally that knew a little too much about you.

And just like that, your heart shattered once again, the pieces so tiny they were easily blown away in the wind, leaving behind a big whole were all of your love once resided. How could you be so stupid to believe someone could ever love you again?

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - you found out he was in love with someone else.

Plain and simple, as heartbreaking as it sounds.

Let me paint this picture: you two are best friends, each other’s safe places. You always talk about everything and anything with one another, feeling comfortable to share even your darkest secrets.

Because of that, you genuinely thought he might even reciprocate your feelings at some point.

But one day, as you’re both hanging out at your house, watching a movie, all of the hope and daydreams you held in your heart for a happy ending with him just get crushed.

He suddenly dumps this new information on you while he’s casually munching on some popcorn, watching the couple on the screen confess their love for each other like your heart didn’t just stop beating.

You’re so taken aback that you stop breathing for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes.

For some strange reason, Hyunjin doesn’t meet your gaze even as it goes silent between you two and your eyes keep burning holes into the side of his head.

Only when you finally tear your gaze away, eyes glossy as you try to murmur encouraging words does he finally turn to you.

His breath hitches in his throat at the sight but other than that, he doesn’t comment on it.

The whole ordeal feels like a slap in the face, hurting more than any physical injury you’ve ever sustained but, it’s not like you could blame anyone but yourself for it. You’ve missed your chance and now, Hyunjin was going to be in a happy relationship with someone else.

So, as expected from any best friend put in that situation, you say through gritted teeth.

“You should confess.”

Hyunjin searches your face for any sign of discomfort and finds many – but, as expected, doesn’t say anything, just looks away and nods slowly. Like he just can’t maintain eye contact for more than five seconds at a time.

And that’s the end of it. The whole vibe changes, now uncomfortable and cold and it’s clear that neither of you is paying any attention to the movie anymore.

But he still remains till the end, and when the credits start rolling, you stand up first and bid him goodnight without your usual warm smile or departing embrace before sprinting up the stairs to your room.

His heart squeezes painfully in his chest as your door slams shut, the tears in your eyes bringing him unexplainable sorrow.

And as he leaves your apartment that night, down in the dumps, you know things between you have changed forever.

Because that’s the last time you and Hyunjin talk.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - he hasn’t confessed yet.

Jisung has liked you for a while now but for some reason, every time he wanted to take that leap of faith and finally confess, something always came up.

You were interrupted, plans had to be cancelled or you were simply too busy to even talk to each other.

It was driving him insane, especially when he’d spot you at an event surrounded by people he felt he couldn’t push through, missing his chance at your attention every time.

He felt forced to watch you from the sidelines, a background character in your life that would never get his moment to shine.

You were friends, but he often felt he cared about you more than you cared about him and it was tearing him apart.

Each time you smiled or laughed at one of his jokes, everything around him disappeared as time seemed to come to a stop, making you look even more beautiful. Which was a hard thing to do since you were already perfect in his eyes.

His insecurities and crippling fear of rejection were literally ruining his life, preventing him from experiencing the love story he’s been yearning for.

Jisung was good at hiding his feelings from you, but sometimes, he slipped up.

Like that time, he held your waist for a little too long, or guided your hands over the piano keys like it was the most natural thing in the world. Those moments when he wasn’t overly conscious, when he got lost in the moment, were your favorite.

You see, in his mission to prevent you from discovering how insanely in love he was with you, Jisung managed to make you believe the opposite. That he hated you. Okay, maybe not hate, just strongly dislike.

Always avoiding being left alone with you, barely meeting your eyes or pulling away when you got a little too close. He seemed repulsed, and it hurt you.

Where you really that unpleasant in his eyes?

He was nice and bubbly around everyone else, no matter the gender. Why couldn’t he be the same Jisung whose smile made your heart skip several beats around you, too?

This went on for a long while, which solidified the idea he hated you in your head, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

One day, Jisung almost walked in on you and Felix…hugging on the practice room floor? His heart dropped, brows furrowing in confusion. Felix knew how he felt about you, he would never disregard that, right?

Everything clicked when he heard your muffled sobs and pained voice.

“I give up, Felix.” You said, hiding your face in his chest as a loud sob escaped you. “Jisung hates me, it’s official! I tried so, so hard but it was no use.” Felix murmured something back, deep voice uncharacteristically soft as he comforted you, caressing your back.

Jisung couldn’t hear what he said though, eyes filling with tears as the only thing resonating in his ears was the pounding of his own heart. You thought…he hated you?

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - because your relationship is too…complicated at the moment.

Complicated didn’t even begin to describe your relationship with the ray of sunshine.

He was your ex that somehow slithered his way back into your life again, only this time, as a friend. Not even, just an acquaintance that knew too many of your secrets and biggest aspirations.

There was no denying the feelings you still harbored for him, the flame flickering in your heart each time he was around; each time he spoke, he smiled, he laughed or even as much as looked at you, your heart thumped so loudly in your chest you were afraid he was able to hear it.

It was embarrassing, especially since he didn’t seem as affected.

Your relationship ended on a sour note – arguing, screaming, crying, the whole package.

Yet a few months later, when you happened to be at the same party, Felix accompanied by a friend walked up to you like nothing even happened, greeting you brightly.

It was horrible, and you almost cried right there and then, missing the way his doe eyes took in all of the little details that changed about you ever since you broke up, desperately committing them to memory.

Like he never wanted to forget, because he didn’t. Felix never wanted to forget about you, even if you didn’t love him anymore.

And so, this happened a few more times until the inevitable took place.

You kissed. And never spoke about it.

And then you kissed again, and again, until he was coming over to your house in the middle of the night to do more than kiss.

It messed with your head, the way he was looking at you – like you hung the stars on the night sky for him and him alone. Like he loved you and wasn’t breaking your heart each time those plush lips kissed every inch of your skin, worshipping every part of your body.

“Why do you keep coming back?” You’d whisper one night, resting your head on his naked chest as the moon bare witness to your unspoken feelings.

“You keep calling.”

“And when I’ll stop,” you move to look at him, face mere inches away from his, hands supporting your weight on his chest, “will you still come?”

He hesitates, staring straight into your eyes. “Most likely, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Yeah…complicated.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - because he is your best friend.

For most, the transition from best friends to lovers was as natural as breathing, something inevitable that was bound to happen one way or the other. Not for Seungmin.

He didn’t even allow his mind to go down that road, to think about being more than friends with you, one of the people he held the closest to his heart.

Not because he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, but because he was afraid.

Yes, he was afraid that once that line was crossed, the one that kept you firmly in place in the beautiful friendship that only blossomed and became very special over the years, it would all disappear.

Things would change and shift, which would bring forth your downfall.

In his eyes, the risk of fighting and breaking up was too big for him to even consider taking your relationship to the next level. He didn’t want to lose you, never.

But what he failed to take into account was that you would not stay single forever.

That’s why, the moment you skipped over to him and squealed about having a date, his heart almost stopped beating.

His world was spinning, like an earthquake started in his head which was quickly crumbling down every single wall and boundary, and rational decision he ever made over the years.

“You…have a date?” He gulped, ignoring the alarms going off in his head that were deafening him. “With who?”

“This guy from work.” You shrugged, excitement dimming as your gaze met his, serious. “He isn’t the one I like, but I guess it will have to do for now.”

Seungmin wasn’t stupid but his heart understood your allusion before his mind did, thumping loudly and stealing his breath away.

You were talking about him. You were going out with another guy but were thinking about him – he was the one you liked!

Still, he didn’t vocalize a response, choosing to nod and pat you on the back gently, staring at anything else other than the disappointment that overwhelmed your whole frame, making you appear oh so small.

The day of your date arrived sooner than he’d like, and Seungmin was miserable, especially since you texted him the location ‘just in case’.

Usually, he was more than happy to know where you were, safe and sound, but this time he would have preferred you didn’t let him know you were with another guy at the restaurant you frequented together.

Hours passed, and night was making its presence known, but still no sign from you. Was he worried? No. Because for once, you staying out meant the date was a success and you were having the time of your life with this guy that wasn’t him.

That’s until, a mere half an hour later, loud knocking had him off the couch in a second, opening the door to find you frowning, and with tears in your eyes. Opening his mouth to speak, shocked, thinking something had happened on the date, your finger hitting his chest stopped him.

“Why didn’t you come?” You sniffed. “I thought going out with someone else would finally prompt you to admit that what we have is more than a simple friendship! Do you hate me that much?”

He was speechless, grabbing you by the elbows as you barged in, tears streaming down your face.

“Answer me, Kim Seungmin!” Well, he was fucked.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - isn’t sure what he feels for you yet.

Or better yet, his commitment issues prevented him from admitting to any feelings he might have.

See, you weren’t just friends. You were a little more than that, spending most of your free time together going to cute cafes and what would be considered dates, acting all lovey dovey.

That is, when you weren’t spending the weekend bound to his bed. That wasn’t fair, sometimes he was the one tied up. A very mutual arrangement.

Jeongin managed to drag you into a situationship you were now too deep into to break off, having developed actual feelings.

But each time you tried to speak to him about said feelings, he’d close off quicker than a frightened snail, impossible to reach.

After each one of these occasions, he wouldn’t contact you for days on end, sometimes even weeks, leaving you wondering if he’d ever come back.

He always did, he couldn’t stay away from you no matter how much he tried.

Even if he messed with other people in that time, he’d still make his way back to you, smiling like nothing even happened and ready to give you all of his attention and affection again.

It was exhausting, and very, very painful.

But you still welcomed him back with open arms, too happy to see him to even care that each time he appeared in your life again, you were not the same.

Every time he disappeared and you didn’t say anything, a piece of your heart was ripped off harshly, stomped on and then thrown in the trash, devoid of any color or life. Like an old toy, forgotten in favor of a new, shiny one.

But Jeongin didn’t care. It’s not like he could be bothered to pick up your scattered pieces – they didn’t interest him, you did.

Not like he ever noticed the light in your eyes dimming each time he stormed back into your life after pretending you didn’t exist for weeks.

To be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever be together.

Not now, or in the future.

No matter how much you hated to admit it, the facts were neatly laid out before you – Jeonging didn’t care about you at all, no matter how sweet, loving or good you were to him.

He thought you couldn’t notice, that your love for him was too blinding for you to see anything else other than him.

But you did. And he also did when one day, for the first time since he met you, as he stumbled out of a bar, giddy and tipsy with his phone to his ear ready to hear your sweet voice, his call didn’t go through.

[jo-com]

୧ ‧₊˚ 💐⋅ ☆ ➛ You bagged that?

Lando Norris x Fem!Actressreader

Summary: Lando has seen everyone of your movies— from tv shows to random videos, he’s just so updated about you in everything it’s crazy, but what’s more crazy is him spreading that you guys are dating.

Genre: SMAU

Fc: Elle Fanning

Note: There are some grammatical errors to look out for!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ✉⋆˚｡ ⋆୨୧˚─ ───────

Liked by Landonorris and 3,901 others

No.1fFan_ Yn is an actual princess, i love her so much😍

Tagged; @Not_Yn

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Username1 SHE IS THE EPITOME OF ROYALTY 👸🏻

Username2 I love her movies sm🥹

Username3 BESTIE SAME!!

Username4 lando on likes??👀👀

Username5 uhm who?

Username6 some f1 driver whose been liking her for years

Username5 ohhh

Username7 he just likes every pic of hers ig🤷🏻‍♀️

Username8 I’VE SEEN HER IN PERSON, SHE’S SUPER NICE🥰

Landonorris Lucky😢😢

Username9 DHSHUSUWB LANDO😭

…

Liked by louispatridge_, Landonorris, Netflix and 2,378,901 others

Not_yn I have two sides😚

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Landonorris love all ur sides!

Carlossainz55 Dream on lover boy😝

Landonorris Fuck off

Username10 lmao them fighting in the comments r so iconic

Username11 y/n not even giving a damn😭

Username12 HER BEING SO ETHEREAL IS EVERYTHING

Landonorris I AGREE😫

Username13 not lando being her no.1 fan

Username14 stalker much??

Username15 girl stfu, u do the same

Annehathaway why is ur comment sec always chaotic

Not_yn even I don’t know😭

…

Landonorris just posted!

Liked by mclaren, and 12,378 others

Landonorris so pretty😍

View all comments

Username16 THE DELUSION😭

Username17 Y/n didn’t even like this

Username18 A+ for the confidence

Username19 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ON HOW PRETTY SHE LOOKS

Landonorris real😢

Charles_Leclerc Dude…

Carlossainz55 Man…

Georgerussell63 🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️

Pierregasly Oh brother..

Username20 THEY HAVE MIXED FEELINGS😭

Username21 lmao the whole f1 attacking him

Username22 the whole gang came to shame him

Username23 yn being so unbothered😎

Username24 MY QUEEN FR🥰

…

➛ Messages

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Liked by 4,679 others

WAG.updates ACTRESS Y/N L/N WERE SEEN KISSING THE KNOWN F1 DRIVER LANDO NORRIS— The couple have been spotted together a few times already.

Tagged; @Not_yn, @landonorris

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Username25 oh…

Username26 we owe him an apology

Username27 LANDO DESERVES AN APOLOGY FROM ALL😭

Username28 nobody believed the poor man

Landonorris WHAT’S UP NOW BITCHES

Landonorris and they call me crazy🙄

Maxverstappen u still are😑

Landonorris Yeah..crazy right that is🤪🤪

Username29 gaslighting myself that this isn’t true

Username30 Y/n isn’t even in the likes must be fake

Username31 GIRL PLS LANDO ALR COMMENTED

Username30 doesn’t prove anything

…

Liked by Landonorris, urbff, and 5,092,278 others

Not_yn wanted to soft launch but the jig is up

Tagged; @Landonorris

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Landonorris can finally say i love you without being judged😛

Not_yn my poor baby has been so much

Username32 NOOO MY HEART IS FOREVER BROKEN

Username33 welp good bye cruel world

Username34 they lowkey adorable ngl

Landonorris now u ship us🙄🙄

Username34 WE’RE SORRY😭

Charles_Leclerc we stand corrected

Carlossainz55 i know when to say sorry. Sorry

Username35 she’s so pretty💕💕

Landonorris the prettiest😁

Pierregasly aww lover boy

Landonorris fuck off

…

➛ Messages

…

Loved this!!

[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ climax ] | sylus

— summary: sylus drags you onto a mission with him for old time’s sake. and you slide into familiarity, almost like there isn’t a wedge in the form of a beautiful young hunter driving you apart. — cw: explicit sexual content, reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, assassin!reader, mentions of blood, profanity, mentions of pedophilia, mentions of human trafficking, minor character death, men with guns, reader has a shitty past, self-destructive behavior, reader doing her assassin duties, a little romance sprinkled in between, mdni — notes: inspired by mr. & mrs. smith. thank you so much for reading, lovely! [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 ] — now playing: cariño - the marías — obligatory tags: @withering-dream @an-ever-angry-bi @midiplier @abbylee0710 @picnicthegarden @karespocketboyfriends @chrissy26 @delulusimps @glamouroki @midiplier @celestemcbrim @everywherenothere @ari-shipping-stuff @beewilko @alexhenituse @nim-rose @moonlight-inthe-sea @sunnyf4lls @himiko-omikami @inkonparchment @sillyfreakfanparty @regandoesthings @im-in-different-universe @ravensheart18 @alyyylog @corvid007 (sorry if i missed anyone.)

He wanted to make love. You wanted to fuck.

He wanted you, all tender and pliant beneath him, his name hinged in your throat. He wanted to worship you, to uncover the erogenous zones of your body piece by piece, and to expose you like forgotten treasure buried deep beneath rotting ruins. 

But you reasoned you didn’t have time. You were in a hurry—a hurry for what, exactly, you couldn’t pinpoint. 

Perhaps you were rushing to feel something, in a hurry to please and to feel useful as you tore his shirt from his shoulders, his body rigid and searing between the thick of your thighs. Pleasing is all you know, serving embedded in your chemical makeup, no room to pursue your own desires. 

Your mouths came together so abruptly that your teeth clashed. The counter of his kitchen island was glacial and tacky beneath your thighs. You’d barely divested yourself of your coat before you drew him into an ardent dance of tongues, his abs twitching beneath the artful crawl of your fingers. You tugged at the give of his pants, quietly yet vehemently demanding he take them off. He drew back, wild-eyed and hair mussed, eyes drowsy with want.

“We should slow down,” he sighed, hot and open-mouthed where your shoulder met neck. Blistered down to your collarbone where he nipped, hands roosted on your hips, thumbs soothingly cruising over juts of bone. 

It made you sick, his tenderness. You weren’t glass and didn’t deserve to be handled like it. 

You chuckled something husky and bitter, tossing your thoughts to the wolves. Your fingers raked through his hair. Grabbing the scruff of his neck, you brought his mouth back to yours, trapping any further words of protest in his throat. 

You didn’t want to think. Didn’t want complications. Just wanted to be driven by sensation, tucking your inhibitions into the darkest hulls of your mind. 

You’re a bit of a masochist. You enjoy punishing yourself for misdeeds you’ve constructed in your mind—having feelings for your boss, secretly envying your friend. Your use is slowly running its course, and you’ll one day be thrown to the wayside. 

You figure you don’t deserve kindness. Sensitivity. You don’t deserve a slow love, the steady creep of an orgasm bubbling in your stomach, evoked by the sluggish grind of hips, words of affirmation whispered like the sweetest supplication into your ear.

No.

You deserve to be used, lusted after. You’ve spent most of your adult life with that mentality, your past having engraved that under your skin. You’ve been a weapon for as long as you can remember. A tool. Loveless. Which is why, when the gentleman who’d frequented Lux wanted to take his time with you, you declined, opting for something more ragged and intense. 

He took you hard and rough on his counter at your behest. Left you open, bare, laughing, battling to get your breath under control. You stayed the night to humor him. Let him hold you as he stroked the sweetest compliments of all with ghostly fingers into your skin as the stars in the sky gave way to the gentle spill of sun rays. 

You crept out of his arms and apartment once he sank below the misty shawl of sleep. He’d inquire about your whereabouts later—ask why you didn’t stay. You rarely did. Tonight, you felt weak. 

You’d ignore him until you next needed him. When the urge to forget sunk its talons into your chest, curling around your heart and squeezing. 

You had a mission to prepare for. Sylus’ name lit up your notifications, cryptic as ever with minimal words. You’d deal with your feelings later. 

There was work to be done.

Besides, you didn’t even remember his name. 

How could you face him when you’d uttered someone else’s name while he was deep inside you?

—

You pay for your escapades in the form of pretty petals of blue and green blooming on your neck the following night. Bite marks. 

You rub at the raw skin for the nth time, a hiss forced through grit teeth. Maybe he was a little too rough. Concealer works wonders, coupled with your glamor. Still doesn’t take away the sting, but you suppose the pain is your punishment for being weak.

You stretch, yawning. Shift until the leather of the car’s backseat squeaks. You sense his eyes on you in your periphery, boring down to the marrow. The fine hairs littering your body stand on end. You maneuver again, leant against the door, cheek propped on your knuckles, avoidant as ever.

You try to focus on the scenery unfolding beyond the car’s windshield. Powdery stars spilled over a deep violet canvas. The red glare of brake lights every so often as you approach another vehicle. Try to focus on the driver’s fingers readjusting on the steering wheel, on the fixed hum of the engine, and how it intermingles with the gentle bumps on the road. Home in on your breathing and the thunderous drum of your heart. He’s been watching you like this since you eased into the car—Sylus. 

You get this creeping suspicion he wants to say something. Like he knows all your secrets, having perused through them like they’re the yellowed pages of a book. Nah. He wouldn’t know what kind of night you had. He wouldn’t care. You’re a grown woman, capable of making your own mistakes and reaping the repercussions of them. He has other things on his mind—other people. 

Another yawn escapes you. You curse yourself for not grabbing coffee on your way out. Too busy pouring yourself into your dress, painting your face with makeup, and meticulously tucking your weapons away. 

“Long day?” says Sylus. You jolt the slightest bit at the grit of his voice. How it breaks up the silence and sets your stomach alight with dragonflies. Fabric shifts. His exhale is weighted beside you, thigh brushing yours as he spreads his legs, so very big in comparison to the backseat. 

You force a smile, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress. “You could say that.”

You feel the shift in his gaze. There’s a whisper of bitterness in his tone when he next speaks. “Maybe you should spend less time pursuing your hobbies at night and more time sleeping.”

This time, you do turn. Cut your eyes to him, mouth tugged up with confusion. His expression reads passivity. Mouth scrawled into a rigid line, scarlet eyes fixed to yours, unrelenting. Something’s off about him tonight. You sensed it in the brevity of his call when he phoned you to outline your mission—you’d be accompanying him tonight to a banquet. A glittering, amenable doll on his arm, smiling pretty like murder wasn’t rotting your mind. You’d lure your target away to be snuffed out like a candle’s flame. Slip out without drawing suspicion, and the world would be rid of another shit stain. 

He quirks a brow, wordlessly challenging you. No customary smirk comes this time. Just the air weighted with something tense. Your throat clicks when you swallow. You opt for obliviousness, laughing it off despite the gnarling feeling in your gut worming its way up your throat. Despite every synapse in your brain screaming for you to fire back. You’re reading too much into things. He’s being his usual, detached self, and not because he knows you were up to no good last night.

Right?

“Maybe I should.” 

The tendons in Sylus’ neck pull, jaw tensing. For a moment, he looks like he wants to keep prodding. But he instead averts his gaze when the driver chimes in, announcing you’ve arrived at your destination. 

The venue’s tawny spotlights dance over the windshield as the car crawls to a stop. People donned in expensive formalwear line the sidewalk, animatedly chatting as they await entry. You take some time to admire the historic, art deco architecture before your door opens, the crisp evening air spilling in and fanning over your skin. 

You look up when Sylus offers you his arm. His expression softens considerably, contrasting the wet cat he was moments ago. There’s a hint of a smile twitching his lips. He almost looks boyish, and you can’t help taking him in. He’s dressed to the nines, tucked in a three-piece tux, bow tie meticulously tied, hair swept up into a pretty, alabaster coif.

Your lips spasm. You peel yourself from the seat, gathering up the trail of your dress. Twine your arm with his, allowing him to shepherd you through the throng of people. It almost feels like old times, their voices petering to a hush when they catch sight of you. They part like a school of fish as the pair of you make your way up the steps leading to the venue’s doors.

“Stay frosty,” you joke to dispel your nerves, standing before the heavy, double doors, waiting for the attendees to open them. 

Sylus snorts, his arm flexing beneath the possessive clutch of your fingers. He pinches the bridge of his nose. And the exasperation in his voice makes your eyes crinkle with mirth. “Please, never say that again.”

You slide into familiarity thereafter, almost like there wasn’t a wedge in the form of a beautiful young hunter driven between you.

—

She said something curious to you when you arrived at the airport earlier—Ms. Hunter. You had the time to spare. You wanted to ask why she requested you drive her instead of Sylus. But you didn’t push it, figuring she had her reasons. Maybe she didn’t have the energy for his nagging, his fretting. She should be so lucky. 

She’d be gone for a couple of weeks, swept up in the grueling task of protecting researchers in the mountains from Wanderers. A part of you felt sorry for her. Worried. But she was a big girl. If she could smack Sylus around in Kitty Cards, she could dodge a few teeth and claws, no problem. 

“Need help?” you asked over your shoulder, the SUV’s engine humming idly at the airport’s drop-off point. 

She smiled at you from the backseat. “I got it!” she chirped as she fetched her oversized suitcase from the floor. 

She rounded the vehicle, bowing to your level at the window. Up close, her smile looked more mischievous than usual. Smile lines bracketed her honey-dipped eyes as she murmured, “Be nice to Sylus. He’s trying, ya know?” 

You pinned her with a quizzical look, your mouth working around a retort. She left before you could get a word out. You watched her slip through the crowd of travelers milling about before she was out of sight, leaving you to mull over what the hell that meant.

—

It starts to make sense as time passes what she meant. 

When you’ve gorged yourself on conversation and champagne, nestled between politicians, CEOs, socialites, and people of the like. Fickle, spewing gossip you can’t be bothered to keep up with. 

Sylus rarely leaves your side, only slipping away to chat up old colleagues or to procure you more bubbly. Always has a hand, scorching and possessive, at the small of your back, or an arm slung about your waist, drawing you into the safety his body exudes. He doesn’t correct anyone when they address you as his, giving you a subdued, amused look when you work your mouth into amending them.

You titter shyly, toying with your necklace. Maybe this is a part of your cover—pretending to be his significant other, all pretty and docile at his side. You won’t complain. It’s nice being this close, feeling wanted, and being envied in a different way. Not for your body, but for the man wrapped so willingly around your finger. 

It’s felt like ages since you’ve last done a gig together, so you’ll enjoy his attention, even if it’s all a ploy, while you can.

The evening slides by in a blur of twinkling chandeliers and laughter. 

Sylus draws you into a dance, and the pair of you are swallowed up by the mass of swaying couples and the string orchestra. Your cheeks ache with a smile, your limbs and inhibitions loosened by the champagne. He holds you to him as you waltz, his body rigid and devastating against yours, languorous fingers curled around your nape. He hasn’t stopped smiling, a boyish dimple cratering his cheek. Hasn’t released you from the scarlet stir of his eyes since, and you smoosh your face against pectoral muscle, hiding the warmth splotching your cheeks.  

His heart thrums something steady beneath your ear. Beneath the expensive pleat of his tux. Breaths even, his bewitching scent furling in your chest like smoke. You let him lead you about the glittering marble tiles of the dance floor, feeling like you’re in a dream. Perhaps it’s the bubbly that’s got you toddling through a dreamlike fog, but a fraction of you starts to think, just for a second, you’re more than a cover, and your boss isn’t so detached, shoving you to the back burner in favor of someone else. 

Your breath is sharp when he suddenly peels away, expertly twirling you. You laugh as your dress flutters around your ankles, nearly tripping you up. He dips you as the music dampens, the beautiful scenery tilting and blurring. Swathed in the tawny lighting of the banquet hall, you make out his features, something akin to affection loosening his expression, and the smile slips from your face. 

The world fades away, and only the pair of you seem to exist in this moment. He pulls you closer until your vision fills with red, fringed by dark, wispy lashes sweeping over cheeks mottled pink. His lips purse as his gaze slides to your mouth, breath stirring your baby hairs. You hold your breath as he eases in, appearing like he’ll kiss you, and you’re stricken by something hot. Your mouths but a hairsbreadth apart, he whispers something that makes your heart sink to your feet.

“It’s showtime.”

The magic of the moment falls away as he steadies you. A pout worms its way onto your face as Sylus tangles your fingers together, a chuckle swelling in his chest. He leads you back to your table, still holding your hand, even long after you’ve returned to your seats and the event’s host takes to the stage to introduce a guest speaker.

—

Nikolai is easy to manipulate. To bend to your will. Of course, he is. All men are if you know how to approach them. 

It helps that your glamor erases a few years off your face, giving you the appearance of a young woman barely experiencing the world. His favorite. It only takes you fluttering your lashes, laughing pretty, and flattering him to get him to take you back to his hotel room.

On the surface, he’s a passive, middle-aged man who looks like he wouldn’t harm a fly. But beneath that facade, he’s a scourge waiting to be wiped out. He’s as despicable as everyone else you’ve bumped off, auctioning off girls to nefarious men under the guise of selling “harmless little dolls.” Moonlighting as a franchise owner, using his stores as a ruse to smuggle young girls through the channels of the underworld. 

You take that personally, having once been on the auctioning floor yourself. Memories of a past painted red flood your mind, and it makes your stomach churn with disgust. You were lucky then, having been turned into a murderous tool rather than a fucktoy. So, it makes sense why Sylus was so eager to get you on this mission. Like he knew you’d take pleasure in watching Nikolai’s life drain from his eyes, his blood caked up under your nails. 

Your smile twitches, threatening to screw up into a grimace as you walk at Nikolai’s side, arm in arm. He’s red-faced and cheery, having gorged himself on champagne and merriment at the banquet. You would’ve snuffed him out if four bodyguards didn’t flank you. Not like you can’t take them, but you’d rather complete your mission as quietly as possible without rousing suspicion.

You just have to keep up the act long enough to isolate him so you can make your move. He’s been ruffling Onychinus’ feathers, claiming to be in cahoots with its notorious leader. Sylus, of course, doesn’t like that, not wanting to be associated with the likes of him. This is where you come into play, his ever-faithful watchdog, ready to kill at the drop of a hat.

Nikolai ushers you into his hotel room, where three more guards stand in good form in the living area. You acknowledge them with a seductive smile, allowing one to frisk you. Your smile grows tenfold when he finds nothing, clearing his throat and straightening his tie as if he’s fallen prey to your charm. Someone should be fired.

Nikolai leads you into his room thereafter, the double doors shutting and locking with finality. You offer him a massage, to which the portly man happily accepts, stripping down to his boxers and plopping onto the king-sized bed. He has a thing for pretty, young girls barely scraping the surface of legality. You’ll see to it he’s ushered into the afterlife by one.

Your hair waterfalls from its updo, warm as it spills onto your shoulders when you pull your hairpin free. You ruck up your gown, climbing over his body to roost yourself on his backside, legs bracketing either side of his waist, heels digging waning moons into your thighs. You’re sultry as you ensnare him in small talk, fingers kneading over layers of fat and muscle. Nikolai hums appreciatively, seemingly thrilled to have your company. Just the way you want him.

Your fingers tip-toe up his spine, thumbs smoothing over the notches of bone there. He exhales beneath your ministrations, remarking how magical your hands are. You huff a laugh as your fingers curl around his jaw, the opposing set burying themselves in his hair. 

“Massaging isn’t the only thing my hands are good at.”

With a fluent twitch of your wrists, his neck snaps, the sound barely heard above the gentle croon of the jazz music he queued up beforehand, accompanied by the exhale of a life dying out like a flame. 

You pull his eyelids down, easing off his lifeless body. Stare at his corpse with a faraway look in your eyes, smoothing some hair away from his face. Like he’s a sacrifice to the little girl inside, screaming for revenge. You straighten your dress when the bedroom doors rattle, Nikolai’s men frantically calling his name. Shit. Maybe you weren’t as meticulous as you thought. 

Quickly, you survey your surroundings for a way out. Spot the sliding doors leading to the balcony, and you dart between them, the wispy curtains grazing over your fevered skin. A wintry kiss of wind greets you as you lean over the rail, hair ruffling, and you take in the bokeh of lights glittering on the street below. 

You’re at least eight stories from the ground, so jumping is out of the question. You could very well fight your way out, but Nikolai’s guards are heavily armed. There’s no guarantee you’ll make it out of the fray unscathed. 

You lean back against the rail, adrenaline spuming through you, watching the bedroom doors pulse as his guards kick and shove against them. Fuck! Tugging a knife from the garter belt tucked beneath the slit of your dress, you prepare for a fight, body taut, nerves flaring. 

Just when you’ve resolved to get your hands dirty, something feathery touches your bare shoulder. Gentle and curious in its embrace, and you whip your head around to its source. You’re met with a smoky tendril, speckled with claret orbs of energy, swirling ominously before you. You peer over the railing, a familiar shock of white blurring into frame. There’s no mistaking the upward cant of his lips, and the crinkle of scarlet-spun eyes from this height. He motions to you with two fingers from the sidewalk, wordlessly beseeching you to come down.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter, a nervous expression stretching your features. Heights have never been your forte, but you suppose beggars can’t be choosers. “Fuck it,” you relent, gathering some courage and climbing onto the rail. 

Nikolai’s men finally break through, and as they dart in, spraying the room in a hail of bullets upon seeing Nikolai’s corpse, you fall into the feathery cradle of Sylus’ Evol, a yip ripped from your throat. 

You float to the ground like a feather, falling into Sylus’ arms. He looks down at you with something unguarded shining in his eyes, using his Evol as a shield when Nikolai’s men pelt the pair of you with a barrage of bullets.

You lose yourself in the moment. Your lips part, lids heavy with something you can’t quite place. 

“Took you long enough,” you chide to dispel the tension brewing between you, trying to catch your breath.

“I’ll be more punctual next time,” Sylus answers with a chuckle, voice rumbling against your body as he casually walks away from the scene, refusing to put you down, even long after he’s warped you to safety. 

rising action | masterlist