#like i would understand if he got other things to do

[kismetlotts]

cw: angst, mentions of sex, best friend Simon Riley, mentions of knives, mentions of hurting yourself but no implications of actually doing so or having done in the past, mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol, clueless Simon Riley, crying in each others arms, helping out your best friend, reader is self less

part 2 of Best Friend Simon Riley Angst (I recommend reading part one first to understand certain elements better)

You woke up in the morning, daylight shining through your curtains and you already knew it wasn’t sunshine- bound to be nothing but grey clouds out there, flooding the sky like a polluted ocean. Your nose and head ached in the silent flood of last nights memories, your crying, your actions and worst of all, your best friend.

Oh Simon, what a dickhead you were. Why did you have to come here?

Your body flushed against the cold sheets behind you, a weightless bed, giving you the impression he’d done a runner. Typical him honestly- you wouldn’t be surprised if that was what initiated their breakup; the same breakup that was at fault for all of this.

He was always so forward, front and confrontational within the field. The notorious ‘Ghost’ that installs fear in every enemy he has to face. He’s a fighter at work but ironically, in life, all he knew was how to retreat. Pull away before he can cause anymore damage, pull out before the mess gets bigger.

You flung the covers off you, their pretty, pink, innocent pattern already making vomit surface in your throat. He’d flopped down on that bedding countless times in the past: memories which made it hurt more came to mind. The knives that were already jammed in your gut, heart and what’s seemed as your brain, twisting a little deeper before freezing up in place.

You remembered the times when his body would accidentally fling you around the mattress, grunting and smirking while he settle down and got comfy. You remembered the way his fingers tapped on the cotton as he leaned over to see what you were looking at on your phone. Nosy but never prying in too much.

Imagining how you looked when you watched his hand sweep across the duvet on movie night, pushing every crumb onto your bedroom floor with a laugh and an apology leaving his lips. His hands, shooting into the air as he surrendered in playful shame. Not really paying attention as your voice scolded him for eating in your bed.

Your fingers stripped the bedding from its covers. Tossing them into a pile on the floor beside your laundry basket, the sheets so stained with both of your sweat and dirt from the situation, your nose scrunched up at the sight. You left it there ready to put in the wash later.

Though, a part of you can’t help but wonder if they will ever feel as clean as they did before.

If they’ll ever give you the warm, comforting sensation you got every night before nodding off to sleep. Would you ever hear their soft cries to slip back in bed when you wake up early for work? The covers flopped back in agony, silently pleading for you to come back and have five more minutes?

No. Now they just feel like you never got out of that bed, the duvet still wrapped around your body keeping you hostage and forcing you to go about your day. The weight of everything on your shoulders enough for you to trip and fall on the material.

You’d burn them if they weren’t so big.

The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous, why the fuck did you let it happen anyway? The sex with him wasn’t anything like you’d wished or dreamed of nor would it have never been.

He didn’t love you but something inside you obviously can’t comprehend that. Every chance you get to show or pretend that the two of you were more than what you were- you’d leap for it: eyes sparkling with the same hope a lost kid has.

He used you last night and you let him like the pathetic, lovesick loser you always were. It wasn’t sex, it was nothing more than a mere distraction and waste of time. A waste of his time, more hassle just for him.

Your fingers wrapped around your smooth doorknob as you pushed open your bedroom door, trailing into the kitchen before an aroma of pancake batter and fresh baking gripped you by the throat. Your big eyes meeting Simons, his familiar, large figure pressed against your kitchen counter as he sucked on his bottom lip.

His face was pale and his brown pupils never left the plate of fucked up pancakes, left on a placemat on the table.

You laughed. You laughed because you couldn’t trust anything else to come out- You couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t break down crying, that you wouldn’t scream or hurt yourself in front of him, that you wouldn’t wince at this- idiotic gesture.

Was this an apology? Was this all you meant to him? A plate of sweet treats you’d have to force yourself to eat, to swallow down and help you forget everything bad that happened. Maybe, or perhaps it was pure coincidence it summed up his perspective of the night; perfectly.

“Did you make me pancakes?” The tremble and nerves in your voice was apparent and he nodded slowly, gesturing to the massive bag of groceries on the countertop.

“With berries and sugar on top. I’ve got some other things here though, chocolate- all kinds, some syrup and honey and other fruit in that bag if you want any. I just added berries because I know they’re your favourite.” He rambled on.

“When did I tell you that?” Your head turned to the side, twitching in uncertainty as you sat down in front of the plate. Eyes squinting as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You said when we…-oh.”

That’s not her, Simon.

His hand lifted to his eyes, rubbing them to avoid looking anywhere. The rise and fall of his chest grew faster and you just knew how is heart felt, flooding with guilt and embarrassment at his own actions.

Staying mad at him was hard when you knew him so well. Mistakes get made and feeling get trampled on but he wasn’t a bad person. That’s why you fell for him all that time ago.

The knife in your hand cut through the pancakes like butter, your posture up straight and distant from the plate while your appetite warned you not to bite. Your eyes flickered over to Simon again, seeing his hands still firmly placed over his eyes, broad shoulders retracted inwards as his body jolted in silent cries. The metal rattled against the table as you put the knife down and jumped out of your chair.

“Simon don’t do this-“ You spoke comfortingly, lunging over towards his body. Your soft skin met with the roughness of his arm but before you could say another word he shoved your body away from him.

A voice you’d never heard before coming out loud and brute, as you took a step back from his harsh rejection.

“Can you just fuck off trying to make me feel better constantly- I know i’ve fucked up and I know i’ve upset you. Stop acting like everything is alright when it isn’t, you do this every time- i’m not a kid!” His fist clawed at his shirt. Pulling it away from his chest as if he wanted to rip his heart out to stop the torture he was suffering.

Spit flew from his mouth and his eyes looked red, sunken with despair. Your voice died in your mouth, tongue soaking up all your saliva and you tried to swallow.

He was lost. He ruined the thing he needed the most- fucked about and caused chaos with his lifeline. You were his saviour and always had been. He didn’t need for you to fix his relationship or his problems, he needed you to fix him. He didn’t sleep with you to use you intentionally, it was a drunken mistake and a shitty timing.

He inhaled through his mouth, his throat croaking as he gripped the counter for stabilisation. Face was locked down to the floor, glued and staring at his shoes on your kitchen floor.

The drops of his tears on the black leather of his boots and the drops on your tiles reminding him of how pathetic he was being. He was a man, he worked in the military. He had slept with people before, cheated, and ruined relationships but nothing hurt like this hurt. Nothing knocked him down so hard he was afraid to get back up, he was afraid to lose you. Simon was scared.

“I made a mistake and I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I can even do to make it up to you- fucking pancakes- it is stupid I should know better and I should know what to do but I-” The whiteness in his knuckles disappeared as he lessened his grip on the counter. Hands falling to his side as he broke down on the spot.

The hard armour he lived in unraveling like flimsy pieces of ribbon. His wet eyelashes hitting his cheeks as he wiped his nose and face on the back of his wrist.

“I can’t think. I can’t be me without you here and I don’t know what to do, please, i’m so sorry just please come back to me. I know i’ve lost a part of you and I will fight until the end of day to get it back, but for now just let me have the rest back. I need my best friend back.” His hands met your lower back as you flung your arms around his neck, your own eyes dripping with tears of outrage and hurt but above all you needed Simon too.

You sobbed silently into his shoulder as he held you close to him finally getting his breathing back to normal. You bit your lips shut and breathed slowly so he couldn’t feel your body shake for air. You didn’t want him to realise how much you were struggling in his arms- how lost and abused you felt. You didn’t want your emotions to worsen his because he had to come first.

He’d lost the love of his life and he needs someone to be strong for him, help him get on his own feet. Be beside him with wide arms and a welcoming face. It wasn’t him being selfish, it was something you had to understand Simon to understand.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you hesitantly sat down and talked. It was a long talk hidden by cheap smiles and forced laughter but of course, he didn’t catch on. You let him speak, you gave him advice- hugged it out and as weeks passed by, the two of you were back to normality again.

He’d found a new girl quicker than you thought he wouldn’t, pretty girl and ironically she your figure and eye colour. The more you watched them interact the more they seemed to happy together, kissing, hugging, buying each other gifts. It felt just like how it was before.

Back to Simon and his lovesick best friend that will always be there for him even if he’s never there for her. Back to Simon and his awful dating life as he hops from one awful breakup to the next because they all are missing something.

All he wants, is girl with your hair colour. A girl with your eye colour and your smile. All he longs for is a girl that he can hold hands with but can also roll his eyes at when she teases him for being too cheesy. He wants a girl who can laugh and joke with him but still support him and by there for him in more ways than one. Not just a girlfriend but almost as if a best friend at the same time. That’s all he wants and asks the world for but for some reason she just isn’t out there for him.

And until he realises why he looks for you in every girl he meets. Until he steps back and opens his eyelids to everything right in front of him. She won’t ever be.

[cursingtoji]

the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine

cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.

loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.

gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.

of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.

it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.

at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.

sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.

“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.

by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.

“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.

before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.

“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”

“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.

toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”

“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.

though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.

soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.

“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.

“let me alone, just today” you whined.

“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.

to correct your form. obviously.

"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.

"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.

"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.

"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.

it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.

"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.

how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...

"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.

and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.

"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.

"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.

"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: Your life together with them🩵

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Park Gyeong Seok x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f)

Summary: various joint situations when you live with them.

A/N: I apologize for writing a little less often!

🩵🩵🩵

Cho Hyun Ju

Since the girl served in the army and got used to discipline, she will follow it while living with you. She always wakes up much earlier than you, about three hours, where you can sleep until 9-10 a.m., in some cases even before lunch if you get very tired. While you are sleeping, Hyun Ju will do a lot of things around the house (quietly so as not to wake you up), cook you a delicious breakfast and go to wake you up.

She will do it gently and carefully, stroking and kissing you wherever she wants. You sometimes grumble and tell her to lie down and sleep with you in a hug, but it doesn't affect her, so she continues to wake you up with kisses.

- Baby, it's time to get up, your favorite breakfast is already getting cold. And we have a lot to do. - she says gently, kissing your sweet lips.

After a couple of minutes, you still wake up and sleepily go to eat what your Hyunnie has prepared for you with love.

Kang Dae Ho

The guy has a lot of fun living with you. After all, you have new ideas almost every day. Again, recently you wanted to lose weight by the summer, you decided to run every morning. But it wasn't very good alone, so you forced your boyfriend to join you.

- So you want us to wake up at 7 a.m. on our weekend and run down the street when normal people will sleep? - he didn't understand at all why you need it, because you were beautiful.

- And you will run with me for the company! - Dae Ho only had to agree, he didn't want to offend you.

And he knew that soon you would get tired of it and you would throw away this idea, so he decided to be patient.

Thanos (Su Bong)

You and the guy were complete opposites to each other. It was especially seen with household items. Su Bong was dirty. He constantly left his clothes all over the apartment: socks in the corners, clothes were lying on the backs of chairs. You were very unhappy with it, okay, unwashed dishes, but these are extremes.

- Can you stop scattering your clothes? Can't you put the clean ones in the closet, and throw the dirty ones in the laundry. I'm tired of cleaning up after you like a little child. - you mumbled when you removed his clothes from the chair again, while he was sitting on the phone.

- Yes, yes, good. - he said without much attention.

- If this happens again, all your things will fly to the trash!

- I got it, just don't be angry, my baby. - he put down the phone and started cleaning everything, then you rewarded him with a kiss.

But he won't be able to get used to it, so he'll still leave his things, but he's ready to clean up for your extra kisses.

Park Gyeong Seok

The three of you lived in a small apartment: you, your future husband and his daughter Na Yeon. Since the girl was undergoing treatment, she often stayed at home. But you and the man didn't want her to be alone, so you decided to take a housework and sit with Na Yeon.

You and the girl played a lot of her favorite games. She is very attached to you and even calls you mom.

When a man comes home from work, the girl asks him to join you and he, though tired, agrees, because he can't refuse his beloved girls.

Sometimes you and the girl like to mock him, so you can make up him with different makeup.

- Dad now a real princess! - said Na Yeon when she painted Gyeong Seok with children's cosmetics, you just laughed at this whole situation and at the face of a man who was both grumpy and smiling.

Nam Gyu

The guy loves cats very much, but since you both work a lot, you can't get a pet yet, but Gyu really wants to, so he started feeding street cats.

He thinks there's nothing wrong with that, but he was wrong. The cats are used to the fact that the guy began to feed them and they began to come to your house en masse, meowing and asking for food.

When you saw this, you were furious, you immediately called the guy and he had a shy face, he knew what was going on.

- Gyu, do you want to explain to me what's going on with cats here?

- Well... I fed them a little, it looks like they got used to it.. - you looked at him with an evil face, although you understood that he not on purpose.

- Now you will clean up after them, so that there is not a single shit from them! - you said and entered the house, he only agreed with you.

After this situation, the guy began to feed these pets less often, and you began to think that maybe you would give Nam Gyu a kitten.

🩵🩵🩵

[walkawaytall]

Okay, this has been ripping through TikTok and I do not think it's what people are saying it is. Now, I have no insider knowledge, but I have been cursed with an ability to often (though not always) be able to follow Trump's trains of thought even when he skips all around and clearly forgets to bridge the gap between subjects. I blame my ADHD-riddled brain, which does similar things if I don't make a concerted effort to rein it in. Anyway.

Some necessary background: Trump was president when the US secured the 2026 World Cup, and I believe also when we secured the 2028 Olympics. That's what he's talking about in this section. His full statement about this topic is below:

And in 2028, the Los Angeles Olympics will be one of the great sporting events and patriotic celebrations in history. I was with Gianni, the head of the Olympics. And because of the wildfires, they’re going to do a special, special job. They’re going to really do something very special for the Olympics. And the opposite, some people said, oh, maybe the Olympics can’t go there. It turned out just the opposite. They came to see me the other day and the committee. And it’s just the opposite. So the Olympics is great. And Johnny, for the others, you know, the World Cup. Johnny is the head of it. We had our top people, Wasserman. They all came in on the Olympics. And then I saw Johnny. And we got the World Cup, too. And you know, it’s only because they rigged the election that I’ll be your president representing you there. So I got both of them. I got the Olympics and I got the World Cup. And I said, you know, it’s too bad. One was in 2026 and the other was in 2028. And I said, I won’t be there. I won’t be your president. But then they rigged the election. And now we won. So I’m going to be your president for the Olympics and for the World Cup. So, Johnny, thank you for the World Cup. And everybody, thank you for the Olympics. We’re going to have a great time.

I understand that this is rambling and confusing, so I have attempted to translate it into a normal, linear statement below.

My translation: When Trump was president, he was involved in securing the United States as the location for the 2026 World Cup and the 2028 Olympics. He either thought or told some people that it was kind of a bummer that he wouldn't be president the years those events took place. The implication there is that he assumed he would win the 2020 election, thus disqualifying him from running for president again. But then the Democrats rigged the election, which meant he didn't do his second term in 2020, and now he's won the 2024 election, so he'll get to be president during the World Cup and the Olympics.

It is important to note that Trump uses a lot of "us" and "them" rhetoric to stir up his constituents, where "we/us" is him and his followers and "they/them" is anyone who opposes him. It's very 1930s Germany, but I can't think about that for too long or I end up in a panic spiral. Anyway, while he obviously uses "them" the normal way -- as a generic pronoun -- I would be very surprised to see him use it to refer to his own people, especially in this context. If he were brazenly bragging about fixing the election, I'd think he'd use we. (I'm not...like, a linguistics expert; this is just an observation. But his talking points depend on heavy repetition. That's why every opposing politician has a demeaning nickname that gets beaten to death, why "fake news" has become everyday language, why he's still talking about the 2020 election as being rigged, etc. This is just another chance to remind everyone in the room that they got cheated out of something in 2020, to really encourage more unrest.)

Also, whenever thinking about a conspiracy theory, it's helpful to consider two questions:

Who does it benefit?

Does the risk outweigh the reward?

In this case, a rigged election obviously would benefit Trump greatly. However, revealing it on a national stage wouldn't. Trump isn't stupid. He chooses to remain ignorant about some things, and refuses to depend on experts when he should, but when it comes to something like this, I don't see him bumbling into a conspiracy reveal. The risk is too great.

Because something you have to understand is that, while his most die-hard fans are in a personality cult of sorts and will bend over backward to excuse his every move, he has moderate voters. He has people who can't stand him as a person, but disliked Harris more and those people would likely be pretty pissed if they found out the election had been rigged.

Also, many of his die-hard fans believe they are in the majority in our country. I know this because I have been told this regularly on TikTok this week when I made some videos related to the inauguration. Trump tells people this all the time -- that his victory was a landslide (he got 49.9% of the votes in 2024, so that is a stretch), that he's a man of the people, etc. Many of these people believe that the 2020 election was rigged, but 2024 was won fair-and-square. And while I'm sure some would be fine if the 2024 election was rigged as long as the results worked in their favor, it's too much of a risk to potentially upset his followers. Especially since...what would the reward be here?

Like, I get it: Trump's very boastful about a lot of things. But this would not endear him to all of his voters, and even for those who were okay with it...it's possible some would think it was a great "beat them at their own game" sort of thing, but it doesn't really gain him much of anything.

So, I personally do not believe that he was admitting to rigging the election at a nationally publicized rally. I do agree that some of his statements earlier in the speech about Elon understanding voting computers was weird, but it also could have just been one of his tangents. Anyway, unless there is more evidence than this particular speech, I personally think it's just speculation (though I've wondered about it myself for months).

I saw a clip on Tiktok but when looking it up on the Google I found no major news organization talking about it. Edit: Someone told me I misconstrued what he ment so I'm just gonna let this sit here and yall can make up yalls own mind 🤷🏾‍♀️

[freeluigihesbae]

𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 (𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖) - 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟏

(5,534 words)

summary:

You and Luigi are coworkers for TrueCar, but you've never met in person. You've been flirting around on Slack and exchanging messages as of recent, which seems to become an invitation for him to entire your life. And body.

He accepts and soon, you do too.

𝗍𝗐: 18+ !! ���𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒, 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗅𝗎𝗂𝗀𝗂, 𝗌𝗎𝖻!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋/𝗌𝗎𝖻!𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝗎𝖻𝖼𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍, 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁

~

TrueCar was the best thing that happened to you. You'd moved from the east to the west coast after attending both your undergrad and graduate years of schooling at Stanford and finally decided that California was the place for you. The weather was fine other than the earthquakes, wildfires, and other disasters hitting the state but you simply ignored them all. As a Computer Science major, jobs were becoming harder rather than easier to find. Your degree was no longer a scarcity but then...

then TrueCar happened. The position was hybrid - both work in-person and virtual - which would come to show how they were far ahead of their time and unknowingly prepared for the pandemic that was going to erupt in a year's time. The main form of communication was Slack, which really was a professionally themed copycat of Discord, but no mind. Everything you did and said was posted and discussed in the several channels that constantly pinged your phone as the app became your new source of corporate social media. You managed to make friends in your new team, having video-calls and occasional meet-ups at nearby bars when time-permitted. In-person was fine but working from home was really the best thing you could ask for.

A few months pass and you see the news about the pandemic. The president is waving his hands in a downward motion, saying everything will be fine, but the coming weeks seem to disprove it. The case numbers are rising and your company decides to go fully virtual, whether this becomes a serious issue or not.

Thank god because you could definitely need it. At the same time, it seems like the company was undergoing re-arrangement which meant everyone had to switch around with team members and projects that they were working on. It seemed cruel, in a way, that they were trying to compensate for the comfort they gave by dipping employees into new arenas on short notice.

But little did you know it would be the best thing that could ever happen to you.

❧

Today is the biggest meeting of the company because you just got approached by one of the biggest car retailers in the world and they want to implement a new program to make vehicles more affordable. They'd be giving away thousands of cars to be exclusively sold on Truecar's website, and you were in charge of convincing them why Truecar was the best option for it.

"Ladies and gentleman, thank you for joining us today. On behalf of TrueCar, we are incredibly honored to have your time and interest in pursuing the deal you have proposed to us. It is my understanding that our consistent increase in sales is what convinced you to approach us, is that correct?" You ask with a brightness in your voice, desperate to get this deal under your belt.

"Absolutely. We were, are, and continue to be pleased with how well your company advertises the use of second-hand and lower priced cars in order to increase the market and frankly, decrease the stigma around it. Cars are cars and as a car company, we are in the business to sell." A man's voice responds in confidence and an undertone of I'm impressed to go alone with it. It makes you smile as your bright teeth are on display for all of the stakeholders, company employees, and members of the interested party to see.

"That's wonderful. The increase in sales that you are seeing are impressive, but I believe it's our methods which are better than the results. The way we have approached sales includes elements of morality and passion. We want to give our customers the best cars for the best price, but we never forget the need to make money. We have and continue to strike a delicate balance which has benefitted our company." You pause, allowing pride to swell in your chest as you click to the next slide, which has a bunch of graphics you spent hours understanding with the help of the responsible parties who made them.

"These graphics are based heavily on the cost-benefit principle. To give a little more background, we use microeconomics to understand our customer because the fundamental exchange or our country's currency starts and continues in the hands of the people. How do we approach the company from a consumer perspective? We did several surveys and found..." You continue with your speech, going through each and every graphic while answering questions that pop-up every now and then, until you get to one specific graphic.

Luigi Mangione's.

He was one of the brightest employees at TrueCar and had a stellar reputation amongst everyone, but strangely enough, you never got the time to know him like everyone else did. But, since re-organization happened, this project was practically catapulted into your face. You found out it was being done in several parts through terrible communication and had to message nearly every single employee (200 private conversation would make a case for this statement, even if it isn't true) and one of them was Luigi Mangione. He responded in haste and detail which was exactly what you needed during such a hectic time. He had volunteered several hours of his time over the past three weeks, hopping onto Slack calls and Zoom meetings whenever you requested them. You can't find a single time when he said no which made you wonder if he was even doing his work.

Of course he was! That's why he was given his project too.

Let's not forget, you are totally into him. That was the worst part because you knew he must've had so many other girls pining after him, probably shooting him meetings and asking questions like dumb blondes would and trying to waste his time. You can't help but indulge in his features and his face every night, wondering what it would be like if...

Back to business.

You land on his graphic which was the most complex and detailed, but highlighted the best of the best points about the company which you knew would make the executives before you swoon. It was a fun experiment and session where you could prove to him that you totally got it.

"This is one of the most important points that we have here. We have a table showing you all a hypothetical scenario in which, it would seem like Option A is the best answer for our first question. But in our second questions, Option B seems more suitable. What you are seeing here is the framing effect, which several if not all companies use to dupe and cheat money out of consumers. We take that out. We cut through the bushes and give customers details that they can read with simplicity in order to make the best decision because buying a car is one of the most expensive purchases someone can make. When we treat our consumers with the respect they deserve, they'll give us the business back. They'll invest in not just the website or the cars, but in us." You speak in smooth, complex sentences which unravel simplicity with skill. You're praying that Luigi is watching, perhaps smiling and impressed, because your eyes are forced to stay trained on the screen in front of you and analyze the graphic like you haven't done so already. You add a few more details before ending and opening up the room to questions.

A few hands go up and you answer them like 1+1 was being thrown at you a hundred times. Your answers are filled with expertise and you make the best impression, getting well wishes and successfully landing a deal which is going to take your company to new heights.

The meeting ends and you let out a sigh of relief before getting flooded with congratulatory messages and hundreds of mentions in the, well, hundreds of channel that you are apart of. Everyone is cheering you on and it makes you smile, but you're really waiting for one specific message.

And it finally comes.

Luigi Mangione: Hey that was a grt presentation. You aced my graphic I'm so impressed.

The message nearly sends you over the edge as you squeal embarrassingly loud, trying to contain your excitement and surprise? Because wow, even you didn't know you were this into him.

You: omgggg thxxx ur so sweet 💘

You add the emoji for your own satisfaction, hoping cupid gets the message across to the man you're keening over right now.

Luigi Mangione: Ugh so cute. Slack call? Do you have a few?

You heart jumps. Did he just call you cute and THEN propose a call? You're rushing to the mirror to do a few fix-ups but thanks to your preparation for the meeting that just happened, you were looking smoking hot to talk business with Luigi.

And maybe, something more.

You don't answer and instead, press the video call icon at the top right, waiting for him to pick up. You turn your camera on while graciously using the time he takes to pick up to stare at his profile picture. His thick eyebrows and sharp nose draw you in like you'd seen him for the first time. His smile was disgustingly charming and-

He picks up. His face pops up on the screen as he gives a wave.

"Hey there." He does his infamous eyebrow raise before laughing out loud and you giggle back.

"Stop, oh my god. I couldn't have done nearly as well if you and so many others hadn't spent hours explaining this to me. The credit goes to you guys." You say, but your eyes and glued to the side of the screen where he's sitting back in his chair, upper torso in display as he is in a short sleeved compression t-shirt. Talk about details and noticing them at the wrong time.

"You talked to others?" Luigi folds his hands and you think you're going to have an orgasm right there. Fuck, the veins are popping up softly under his skin and you're thinking to yourself one hell of a reward would having his biceps around your neck. He seems to catch you staring.

"Hey pretty. Heard me?" Luigi smirks and you snap out of your trance before staring right into your camera.

"Y-Yeah I had to talk to like, 20 other people. You know, like Josh, Andrew, Ashley, and-" You stop, feeling yourself get stressed just having to think about the gruesome three weeks where you had to sit and listen to everyone explain while taking notes furiously. Your fingers would often hurt after these session, which wouldn't be helped by your everyday ministrations having orgasms, screaming Luigi's name and having terribly dirty fantasies that you wish he could fulfill.

Dreams.

"I wouldn't think the explained things as well as I did, did they?" There's a streak of something in his eyes, which darken when he asks his question. Is it jealousy or pride? You're trying to figure it out but he quickly replaces it with a smile.

"No Luigi. They didn't. They didn't at all." You answer back before giving him a wink, feeling bold at what you just saw in his eyes. He finds himself surprised, as his hands slowly rub his triceps and god...

He knows exactly what he's doing. Your eyes are following their movement, taking note of his long fingers which you just wished were inside of your right now.

"Oh I know." Luigi says and your eyebrows furrow.

"What do you mean?" You ask, intrigued by his statement. His eyes go wide before you chuckles out.

"Can't a man be confident in his abilities m'lady?" He asks, a seductive voice intertwined with his question. You gulp before giving him a smile.

"Yes can do my knight in shining armor." You answer cheekily and this time, he winks at you.

"I'm getting pinged by my team. Talk to you later after your pilates at 6." He states this with amusement in his voice but you feel your heart drop.

Because you do have pilates at 6.

"W-Wait how do you know that?" You ask, unable to stop the stutter that makes it's way past your lips. Your smile is at half-mast now, unable to decipher whether this man was just great at guessing or he really knew your schedule.

"Women are predictable. I'd assume you are too?" Luigi smirks before you get a chance to answer. "Does that work?" He asks, tapping his fingers across his abdomen expecting an answer. You let your eyes linger there for a second too long before giving a soft yes and that does it for him.

He puts the phone down and you're left with thinking about how time can go faster, simply waiting for him to call you back.

❧

Pilates couldn't get done any faster, as you had your weekly catch up session with your friend, Bea. She knew everything about Luigi and she was a trusted companion since her type was different.

Entirely different.

It was actually women.

"Oh my god Bea you wouldn't believe it. He told me I was fucking cute after the meeting and somehow, he knew I had pilates at 6." You're walking out of the glass doors, as Bea sighs behind you.

"You know this guy could show up at your apartment unannounced and you'd let him fuck you." Bea snorts and you giggle, letting the thought sear through your core.

"You know I think I would. I wouldn't complain at all." You emphasize the all at the end of your sentence because you have to admit, you were a less innocent than your face cared to show. You liked the idea of him thinking about you when you weren't looking and although it might've been scary, you wouldn't mind if he fucked you senseless.

You actually needed it really badly.

Bea can see how gone you are in your thoughts about him, so she gives a shake and a quick bye before you return it, walking over to your car. You start the engine, steeling yourself and clearing your thoughts so you can drive home safely and call him as soon as possible.

Finally, your car gets into the driveway and the exhaustion from your pilates session scurries away into the dark corners of the world (your car?) and you hurry inside, slamming your door shut and locking it before throwing your shoes off and making your way up the stairs.

You're about to call Luigi on Slack, maybe send a message asking for his number before an unknown number sends you a message.

Unknown: Hey there.

Something about it feel strangely familiar, like how Luigi had addressed you in your earlier Slack call. Normally, you never respond to unknown messages but this one...

this one really drew you in, making something of an obligatory pull bloom inside of you. You slowly type a hey, who's this? back and hit send. To your surprise, the response comes quicker than you'd imagined.

Unknown: Luigi

You swallow hard, pulse beating against your sensitive spot on your throat a little faster. You didn't actually think it would be Luigi, but hey, all is fine. Maybe a coworker gave your number, you think, but it still doesn't sit right because in the time you've been with the company, you only ever gave them your second work number... not your personal.

You: Funny. How'd you get this number?

Luigi: A coworker.

So far, you buy it. You ignore the gut feeling and suppose that it must've slipped and spread across your coworkers at some point since the most recent project had several overlaps with other team members you worked with in the past.

You: So..

Luigi: So...? Do you want to keep typing or can I hear that pretty voice of yours?

He did not.

You: We can call how about you call me this time? I was nice enough to ring you this morning. You end the message, hitting send and smirking.

Luigi: We don't have to call if you don't want to.

Ugh, mean. Was it really that hard to press the call symbol? You wanted to hear his voice though, so you give in and ring him yet again.

The line is going through and you put your stuff down, opening your fridge to heat up some leftovers from earlier last night. You rummage through your stuff, trying to look for that orange-lidded box but it's nowhere to be found. The line is still ringing, so you put the phone down and walk around your kitchen, wondering if you were stupid enough to leave it outside. Nowhere. You check the trash, empty. You're scratching your head at this point and you finally walk over to the sink and to your horror, it was licked clean with remanants of the food on the side with the fork still inside. Luigi's voice scares you at the same time and you jump.

"Hey there." He says, in the same tone he had this morning. You can hear his smile but your breathing is too heavy as your back is pressed against the cool fridge. You swallow the saliva before stepping forward and picking up the phone on her island.

"Jesus, you scared me Luigi." You say, half-focused on him while you're trying to figure out why your leftover tupperware is in the sink. It's making you feel unsettled.

"I don't think I'm a scary person. Is everything alright?" His voice is laced with concern now and you feel yourself calming down, explaining the situation.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine I'm just confused because my leftovers are in the sink and I'm starting to think I sleep eat now." You answer him with amusement and he gives a deep, heart laugh back. It sounds hot, you note, thinking about what it would be like if his voice was in your ear right now. You still can't help but turn around and glance at the box.

"Must be a good cook. I know I'm a sucker for some good Thai food." He breathes it out with the same amusement in your tone and this time, you feel a shiver down your back. Your leftovers were a pad see eu takeout from your favorite Thai restaurant and his answer seemed a little too close for comfort.

"Are you?" You ask, darting your eyes around the room because it's not feeling so comfortable in the house anymore.

"Yeah. Wouldn't you say we have a lot in common?" His voice a bit more stern now but he's asking her with innocence you can't tell whether is real or feigned.

"Like what?" You keep your question curt like the last, slowly walking into the living room and checking the sides and corners to make sure no-one is there. No-one is. You sit down on the couch, trying to control your heart rate.

"Like how we both like Thai food. That's a good start." Luigi answers with surety in his voice and the air feels thinner now.

"I never told you that, so how do you know?" You try to maintain your composure but your voice starts to shake.

"Now I do. Thanks for confirming." Luigi has an irritating attitude in the laugh he lets out.

"I wasn't trying to." You answer, rapid fire. Every sound outside starts to make you jump as you're looking over your shoulder.

"Now, why so jumpy? You seem scared." He teases you, mocking the hesitation in your voice. Your skin is shivering and you're 99% sure someone is watching you.

"I'm not scared Luigi. Just making conversation." You're still talking into the phone, but you slowly get up, making your way upstairs. You know you might regret this, but you have to be absolutely sure because Luigi isn't making you feel too good right now and you're trying your level best to ignore the suspicions your gut is feeding you right now.

"Conversations aren't usually this... high-strung. Are you okay?" Luigi responds, shifting his tone from something dangerous back to concern and you know he's fucking with you. You know this man is trying to screw around with you.

"Great. Great Luigi. You still haven't told me how you know I like Thai food." You snap at him, unable to contain the stress your feeling as your head is spinning.

"I wouldn't be so��rude if I were you, baby." The name slips from his tongue and you freeze. Something hot blazes across your skin as you realize you like that. You want that. You've been wanting it and finally, you just got it.

It doesn't clash to well with your increasing heart rate because if anything, it makes it shoot higher. You let out a sharp exhale.

"You like that don't you?" You stepped into your study room on the top floor, checking the windows to make sure they're locked and opening the doors, squeezing your eyes shut and praying no-one is hiding there. Clear. But his question makes you nearly whimper and you find yourself nodding before you stop, stepping back out of the room and back into the foyer.

"I don't." But it's a lie and you can feel it. You can feel your conscience eating away at you, begging you to tell the truth.

"Don't fuckin' lie." Luigi growls, spite and another emotion dripping across the phone and that's when you hear a creak downstairs.

Fuck.

"I'm not lying Luigi. I don't know what you're trying to do right now." You raise your voice before checking the bathroom quickly and as you wished, nobody is in there. You finally make your way down the foyer to the very end, feeling your chest tighten as you prepare to step into your bedroom. Your fingers twist around the doorknob and you practically throw it open when you hear another creak downstairs. You shut the door and lock it, running into the closet and climbing into the attic crawlspace.

"I'm just asking questions and you are lying to me." You're terrified now because this isn't the Luigi you are quite used to.

"You're freaking me the fuck out Luigi. That's what's going on." You hear a step on the stairs and throw your hands over your mouth. Someone is in your house and you think you know who.

But you're praying this is all a trick of your mind.

"It's okay to open up, you know. You can trust m-" "Shut the fuck up Luigi." You shout into the phone before cutting the call. The relief washing over you is better than any medicine you've ever taken, you have a newfound confidence as you press your ears against the wall of the crawlspace. You can hear some sounds from outside and birds chirping which is comforting. You wait for ten minutes and when you don't hear anything and your phone, thankfully hasn't rang from Luigi again, you open it up, making your way down into the closet.

You still step into your bedroom with utmost caution, but you can't seem to take it seriously. Your strides become more confident as you open your bedroom door and nearly missing the wave of panic you feel when you see the foyer.

No-one.

You laugh, thinking Luigi was just acting like a creep but you walking to the bathroom, fixing your hair and letting your ponytail loose. Your mind keeps reeling back to the conversation with him, replaying the way he called you baby and it was just too fucking good.

Too bad he didn't call again. You almost missed his voice but the panic was worse, so mostly, you were glad. You walk back into your bedroom, sliding your sweatpants off and realizing your clothes are everywhere, running around in boxer shorts. You manage to grab a fresh pair of pajama pants which you throw onto the bed before taking your shirt off and letting it slip to the floor. You shiver a bit, just left in your bra. Another top catches your eye and you slip it on, appreciating the cropped fleece.

But something raises a red flag.

Earlier, when you entered the room, it was warm. Quite warm, actually, because you had the heater on the entire day to combat the winter weather. It took all but five minutes for that to disappear? You're staring at the window and realize.

The window was open.

Open.

The window was open.

And as if it couldn't get worse, the phone rings and you nearly trip over the clothes on the floor.

It was Luigi.

Your hands are shaking as you let a cry out, hugging yourself. You place the phone up to your ear before sobbing out a Luigi? quietly.

"Yes baby?" His voice is right next to you, behind you in the slightest and you let out a primal scream which is quickly muffled by a strong, unrelenting hand that gets pressed into your mouth, fingers threatening to choke you. You writhe and squirm against the hand but quickly, another arm grabs your neck and turns it to the side.

It's Luigi alright.

"Missed me baby?" His grips your throat tighter and you can't stop the fear driving your arousal past a previous breaking point, feeling heat spread across your body and absolutely relishing the light-headedness his hands were giving

The hand leaves your throat before a slap lands on the side of your thigh. You bend forward, ass brushing against his crotch before placing your hand on the now blooming red print.

"Fuckin' answer me slut." Luigi's voice is dripping with desire, demanding an answer of you. You slowly remove your hand from your thigh, letting it hang in the air as it shakes impossibly hard.

"Y-Yes." You mewl it out and you can hear his breath hitch before his arm is circling around your waist, pushing your head back into place as you face forward. That hand starts to feel around, teasing over your breasts and down your navel. You whimper, letting tears rush out as his cold fingers are playing cruel games with your skin. He flips, suddenly, grabbing a breast and you feel your knees nearly buckle.

"N-No." You attempt to stop him weakly but he just laughs, gripping harder. He does let go after a few choice squeezes, pushing you onto the bed and flipping you around as you face him and you see him in all his glory. His eyebrows are knitted together as you watching eyes swim with desire. His neck is strained, chest heaving as he is trying to restrain every filthy desire he's waiting to hurt and pleasure you with. His arms are flexed, veins pulsing as he waits and waits.

His eyebrows furrow deeper before his lips curve into a nasty, sly smirk.

"No? No? You fucking slut." He grips your throat and this time, takes the liberty of letting it cover the entire diameter. Your eyes go wide as you pull on his single arm, feeling your breathing get harder and harder.

"I don't know why you're lying to me. I've heard you fucking this pretty cunt with these tiny fingers, moaning my name every single night. I've watching this pretty ass," he stop to turns your lower body around and give your ass a nice slap, letting it echo in the room and watching as the pleasure makes you choke out a sound, something akin to a gurgle. He smiles, letting go to let your gasp and take air in before his hands are on your throat again. You feel yourself trying to get out of his grasp, trying to process how in the world he could know you were masturbating to him and why his hands felt so good around your neck. The deprivation was simply delicious and you wanted more.

"I've watched you ass bend over and split into two at pilates. Been watching you everyday for the past few weeks. Been watching you show my ass to everybody else in that class. I've watched men walking by ogle and just the thought of them staring at your makes me wanna-" Luigi groans, palming himself through his sweatpants. His grip on your throat as lightened up, but you dare not move.

"Makes you w-wanna what?" You gulp, wondering what he would say and he stares down at you, cooing at your glossy eyes that stare at him in fear and wonder and an impossible amount of

submission?

"So glad you asked. Makes me wanna hurt you first. Makes me wanna fuck you with my fingers and slap your ass so hard you cry my name out." Luigi fingers trail down to your shorts, sliding in between your legs as your moan, slowly rolling your hips against his fingers. The touch feel electric, sending waves into your core and you can't stop. Your eyes close until you realize his fingers aren't there anymore. You cover your face with your hands, suddenly overwhelmed with the reality of the moment.

But he has other plans.

He grabs both arms, pulling them down with one hand before slapping you across the face with another. You let out a sob, the pain stinging but still making you pulse between your legs. You can tell he knows by the small sighs he lets out, pressing his bulge against it.

"Can feel you pulsing. You little painslut. That's what you are, isn't it baby?" He starts grinding down on you faster and you can't help but let the sensations get to you, struggling to let free of his grasp because you desperately need to thread and grab his hair in yours fingers, but instead he presses down into your stomach, watching you wince at the discomfort.

"If you don't talk I'll make you bitch." God the insults are just perfect, turning on parts of your brain you didn't know exist. You keep silent, indirectly telling him to keep going. His eyes widen before he tears the top off, making you scream.

"What happened to the cunt that was aching for me, hm? What happened to that pretty voice moaned my name when work was over? Where's that pretty body that was arching off the bed every time you came huh?" Luigi slaps your breast and you moan, crying his name out in a harsh exhale which he bends down and drinks up, devouring your mouth with his tongue. You feverishly reciprocate, desperate for his validation and constant touch on you. "Please."  You let out a quiet, slutty noise that makes him groan. His fingers thread into your hair which you starts pulling without mercy, adding to the pain by biting into your neck and you think he might tear it off.

"H-Hurts Luigi. It hurts." You are feeling more pain than pleasure, attempting to let him know how you feel but a part of you knows that he won't listen he won't care. He'll do whatever he wants and in the case he does slow down, it'll all be for his benefit.

"You're gonna take it anyways." He flips you around, forcing your body onto all fours and the sensations of the moment make you arch your back, sticking your ass up in the air which he adds to, pushing your neck sideways and down into the bed. You yelp as you feel another hand smoothing over the entirety of your back, going lower and lower until your stomach is nearly touching the bed and your ass is directly on his crotch. "You haven't answered any of my questions and if you don't," you here something click and shake, which you find in the corner of your eye.

A gun.

"I promise I'll make it hurt baby you want me to hurt you?" He's bent his body now, entirely draping himself over your backside and whispering into your ear, juxtaposing the absolute threat with a sweet, honey-glazed voice. You let out a slow breathing before moaning through your words.

"Don't hurt me Lu." You say this, breathing in slowly as you savor every shift in his position, taking in a slightly sharper breath when his hands start roaming around atop your ass. The lack of pressure makes you un-arch your back, taking solace in having space but a hand is back on top, pressing down.

"Move and I'll make you cry." He takes the gun, pressing the cool metal in the space between your legs, feeling yourself impossibly wet as his slow, circling motion imitate his fingers that were on you earlier. "W-What were you asking-" You wanted to be the perfect little girl and answer his questions which have flown out of your mind, but he's pulled the gusset of your underwear to the side and shoved the tip of his gun inside your cunt, watching the juices flow right down and onto the trigger.

"Oh I'll take my sweet time and make sure I get all of my answers." He keens with a soft, soothing the voice that betrays his next motion as he shoves the entire length in, forcing your to clench and sob at the pain.

He wasn't playing games. He was playing you.

part 2

[themultifanshipper]

Hi! I love your fics sm

Please don't feel obliged if this makes you uncomfortable, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing something where reader has vaginismus and the driver is so sweet about it :3

For Max or Oscar (but I don't really mind any of them tbh)

Max was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. He was incredibly patient and understanding. Frustratingly so. 

Warnings: smut, talk about vaginismus, oral, fingering, improper medical procedures 

Disclaimer: people with vaginismus have different experiences with the condition, this fic is vaguely based on a friend of mine's experience, do NOT do what is described in this fic, if you are seeking treatment then talk to a doctor because this is NOT the proper treatment method IT IS FICTION… that being said, enjoy the filth. 

You'd been scared to tell Max about your condition at first. 

All your other relationships had fizzled out because the guys were either too impatient or annoyed, or disgusted with you. 

Which is why you expected Max to be the same. But you couldn't have been more wrong. 

You sat him down one day, texting him beforehand to warn him that you had something serious to talk to him about. 

He tapped his fingers on the table while you made some coffee. 

Once the steaming mugs were in front of you, you just came out with it. 

“I have a condition, called Vaginismus” 

Max just blinked, which made you smile at his clueless face. 

“Do you know what that is?” you asked. 

“Uhh… no” he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. He didn't like not knowing things. 

“That's okay. It's quite rare. It's a condition that makes sex painful, or at least difficult if it’s not treated properly” 

He nodded. 

“And basically it's an involuntary response to penetration. The muscles contract and it can be painful…” 

His brows furrowed. 

“So how do you… do you have sex?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “Well not since we've been together, but yes I have had sex before, but most of the time it didn't work” 

He blushed. “And have you  tried, you know… treatments?” 

You took a sip of coffee before answering. 

“I started. Sometimes it works, but it takes time and effort.” 

 “Okay…” he muttered. “So it's just penetration that is painful?” 

You nodded. 

“So I can eat you out?” 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“I- yes. Yes, I suppose you can.” 

He got up and walked over to you and held out his hand. 

“What, now?” you asked incredulously. 

He shrugged. 

“Unless you don't want to?” 

You were taken aback by his attitude. 

“That's it? You don't want to know more? You're not… disgusted?” 

He stroked your cheek with his thumb. 

“Why would I be disgusted. It's not like you can control it. As long as you are happy, I am happy. And if you want to try treatments, that's up to you. I'm not going to force you. I have a fully functioning hand, and as long as I can bring you pleasure in other ways, I'm good” 

Tears sprung to your eyes and he melted, getting down on his knees and stroking your thighs. 

“What is it? Did I say something wrong?” 

You shook your head. “You're the first man to not react badly. You really are the one” 

He blushed even darker at that. 

“Well let's see if I can make you come with my mouth, then you can decide” 

It was your turn to blush. He led you to the bedroom and lay you down on the bed, dragging your clothes off and admiring your body. 

“Fucking perfect. Can't wait to devour you” 

You scoffed at his cliché choice of words and he smirked. 

He spread your legs, licking his lips as he gazed at your already glistening cunt. It was all his, and he was going to prove to you he was worth it. 

He licked a stripe up your folds and you shivered. 

His eyes were on yours the whole time, studying your reactions, every twitch of your hips for any indication that he was doing a good job. 

He brought his hand up to thumb at your clit lazily while he took a quick breather. 

“Wait, I can't finger you can I?” 

You blinked at him. 

“Uhh… not at the moment, no” 

He nodded, taking it in his stride. “What about my tongue?” 

You groaned and he smirked up at you, proud that he was getting you this flustered already.

“Yes, your tongue should be fine” 

He dove back in gleefully, happy to have new information. 

You felt his tongue prod at your entrance and you gasped. 

He mistook that for discomfort so he retreated. 

"No” you begged, your hands going to thread in his hair to hold him there. “Keep going, it feels good” 

Max hummed and continued, pushing his tongue further inside you, and his nose bumped your clit every time.

He quickly figured out how to use that to his advantage, and he rubbed it against your clit with purpose every time he pushed his tongue inside you. 

You took an embarrassingly short time to come after that. 

Once Max had figured out the fastest way to make you come, it became a daily ritual. 

And the absolute sweetheart was doing as much research as he could to understand your condition, and how to treat it. 

He didn’t push you though. If you wanted to seek treatment that was your business.  

So he waited, and was perfectly happy to eat you out every day for the rest of his life if that's what was required of him. 

But a few weeks later you sat him down again. This time on the couch, and you were next to him with your legs over his lap as you chatted. 

“So I have some news…” you were looking at him with a shy smile, almost looking guilty about something. 

When you didn't elaborate he tried to diffuse the tension. 

“Well I know for a fact you're not pregnant. Unless you found another way to get my sperm and babytrap me”  

You slapped his chest and giggled. 

“No, Max. Although that is a great idea, thanks for the suggestion.” 

He laughed and leaned his head on the back of the sofa. 

“What I wanted to tell you is that I think I'm ready for the next step.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, up until now my condition has been mostly situational. A stress response, and sex has always stressed me out, for obvious reasons.” 

His hand was stroking your leg soothingly, which encouraged you to carry on. 

“I've been working on this since we got together. And I feel very at ease when I'm with you. And when I'm not with you…” you blushed and looked at your hands, suddenly shy. 

“Hey. Tell me. What about when I'm not here?” 

You looked up at him. 

“I've been fingering myself” 

You bit your lip, waiting for his response but he just stared at you. 

“You-" you could tell he was picturing it, although his expression remained mostly blank. “Okay…” 

“So really you're supposed to get these dilators, right? But I figured, fingers do the exact same job, and they're free. So I started out with one. And you're supposed to do it for like 20 minutes a day or something. And it has to be snug but not tight or painful, and when it feels fine you move up a size. So I'm now up to two fingers, which is fine, so I need a size up, but three fingers is way too much so I'd need someone with bigger fingers than me…” 

Max blinked. 

“You see where I'm going with this?” you asked encouragingly. 

“No?” Max was lost. All he could picture was you sticking your fingers up yourself for 20 minutes a day while he was out. 

You sighed. “Your two fingers are bigger than my two fingers, but smaller than three. So… I need you to finger me” 

Max just blinked again. 

It took most of your willpower to not slap him 

“Stop fucking blinking and say something” 

“I… are you sure it's safe? I mean you're supposed to do it with like proper equipment and-” 

“Max I swear to god if you start Maxplaining my own treatment to me I am going to lose it” 

He promptly shut up. 

“So we are going to go into the bedroom, and you are going to stick your fingers in me for twenty minutes. Can you do that?” you batted your eyelashes at him. 

“Yes” he rasped, and you giggled at him before leading him over to the bedroom. 

He lubed up his fingers, sliding one in to test the waters, and see your reaction. 

You nodded at him and he slipped the second one in. 

You immediately felt the difference with your own. 

It was a stretch, but not painful whatsoever.

And Max was already hard in his pants. 

This wasn't about him though, this was a medical procedure to help you out, nothing more. 

He knew what to do. 

He moved his fingers gently in circles, just like he'd read about on all those forums, towards the front, the back and to the sides. 

You looked at him in awe. 

“Max… how do you know what you're supposed to do?” 

He smiled gleefully at you. “I've done a lot of research” 

You melted into the bed, doing your breathing exercises as he continued to stretch you out. 

Your alarm rang when the twenty minutes were up, and you were almost disappointed. 

Despite it not being sexual in nature, you kind of liked being this close to your boyfriend. 

It felt very intimate. 

You did the same thing four days in a row, and it became a routine for Max, because every time it was over, he ate you out, and then you gave him a blowjob. 

Which is why when you told him you were moving up to three of your fingers and didn't need him for the next few days, he honestly felt like you'd put him on a sex ban. 

But when you explained to him that that just meant you didn't need him for the medical part, but he could still put two fingers inside you while he ate you out, his spirits were lifted instantly. 

A week later, it was time for three of his fingers, and that was a real stretch. 

It wasn't painful, but as soon as the third slipped in, you felt full. 

Your breathy gasp alerted Max. 

“All okay?” 

You nodded. 

“More than okay… I feel so… full.” 

Max twitched in his pants. 

“I suppose that's normal… my fingers are pretty big” 

You hummed and Max started the usual exercise. 

Except this time, it felt different. It felt almost… pleasurable. 

As it went on, Max noticed you were getting progressively wetter.  

After about 5 minutes of trying to hold in your noises, you let out the tiniest whimper. 

Max stopped his movements and you let out a soft whine. 

Max raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Did that feel good?” 

You huffed “Too good. I think you're gonna make me come like that if you carry on for much longer.” 

Max bit his lip. “I suppose that's good. It means you're relaxed” 

He continued the slow circles and you let out a shaky exhale.  

“Don't keep your noises in” he piped up. “It will just make you tense up. Let them out” 

You couldn't go on like this, it felt too good to not take advantage of it.

You glanced at your phone. 

12 minutes left. 

“Max, if you can make me come just like this in the next twelve minutes I'll let you come on my tits” 

Well with an offer like that how could he possibly refuse. 

“Can I use my mouth as well?” 

You looked at the time again. 11 minutes 37 seconds… 

“I suppose” 

His tongue ghosted over your clit as his fingers moved in their usual slow circles. 

You moaned and he smirked. 

Some medical procedure this was shaping up to be. 

He crooked his fingers upwards just the slightest bit, and the noise you let out was confirmation that he wouldn't need the full 11 minutes. 

You came with 7 minutes left on the timer. 

And you were so relaxed he swore he could have slipped a fourth finger in, but he didn't. That would be abusing your trust, and he was determined to be patient and see this through to the end. 

After another couple of weeks you deemed yourself finally ready. You'd done 4 of your own fingers, then 4 of his larger fingers. And you came every single time. 

And Max had bought you a small-ish dildo to make properly sure you were ready. 

He was away for a race weekend when you used it, but you sent him plenty of proof that you could take it easily, and he was very grateful. 

When he got back, you had a candle lit dinner, wine and all, before he took you to bed. 

You were eternally grateful to Max for sticking this out with you, it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for you, even if it did just involve sticking fingers inside you. 

When Max finally lined himself up with your entrance, he was so nervous he felt like a virgin again. 

When he pushed in it was like the stars had aligned. Everything just felt right.

You had tears in your eyes (of happiness) and you pulled him down for a passionate kiss. 

He rolled his hips and you moaned into each other's mouths at the incredible feeling of finally being joined like this. 

Max lasted about 3 minutes he was so excited. Bless him. 

But he made up for it in the best way. 

He proposed, that night, while you both sat on the balcony in the warm Monaco air as the lights of the harbour twinkled below you. 

Yeah, he was the one. 

[sinofwriting]

All Relaxed - Jenson Button/Reader/Logan Sargeant

Words: 1,698 Summary: Jenson sees how stressed Logan and his girlfriend are and just wants to get rid of it for them. Note(s): Slightly NSFW, Dom/Sub Relationship/Dynamics. Dom!Jenson, Sub!Logan, Sub!Reader. Don’t be like them and approach a brand new dom/sub relationship like this, I beg of you. Also, no one ask how this ship popped into my head, I can’t be held accountable for my thoughts.

Masterlist | Support Me! 

Jenson watches as both Logan and Y/N practically stumble into where the fan stage would be happening. You’d think they had just woken up, but he can tell that still sleep is invading them. The circles under their eyes have worsened and his worry grows when he notices them both shake their head at food being offered. The same thing they did yesterday as well.

He more than knew how rough Formula 1 could be and that was before they made the calendar twenty-four races long. But he never had been that exhausted. Some of it was without a doubt the treatment of Williams affecting him and Jenson had tried alleviating that, trying to somewhat step into the mentor role, but it was obvious that he wasn’t doing enough.

And poor Y/N had broken down in his arms the last time they saw each other about everything going on with her family and school.

He wants to fix it. To see them without any worries, to see them relaxed. All loose limbs, no tension, eye bags and circles gone. He’d like to see them not look so gaunt as well. He’s sure Elias is fine, but it’s obvious he doesn’t know Logan. Benny would have straightened Logan’s current less than stellar eating habits in a few days and Jenson knows it’s been at least a month of Logan barely eating anything unless it’s one of his premade meals.

It’s the thought of wanting to see them all relaxed that has him begin to plot. It would be far too easy to invite them to his house in California. Undisturbed, no close enough neighbors to really bother them, not that he planned on really having them leave the house. If anyone spotted them it would be the end of a peaceful trip. And he knows that they are both free for the next two weeks. He had heard Logan mention it just the day before.

He starts making a list of groceries that need to be ordered, then he makes an email to a friend who owns a private jet and owes him a favor. He texts his housekeeper, asking if she wouldn’t mind going to his house today if she has time and straightening up the place.

As he starts to order the groceries, his attention is drawn away by the sound of a breathless sort of sigh. His eyebrows quirk up when he notices that it was her and he follows her eyes and fully understands, his throat going a little dry.

Logan had been put into a tight-fitting team shirt, something either tailored to him or knowing Williams and their budget they had just given him a smaller size and it looked good on him. The thin fabric clinging to every muscle and inch of his upper half. Jenson hadn’t realized that Logan had gained that much muscle since last year, even despite not eating it seemed he was keeping it well.

He watches as Logan smiles at him before looking at his girlfriend, sending her a small wink and Jenson can’t help but look at her, see how she reacts, and he shifts in his seat seeing the grin on her face, the way her shoulders have slightly relaxed.

What he wouldn’t give to see them both all relaxed for him, laying flat on their backs in his bed, letting him take care of them. He nearly drops his phone as the thought strikes him. Fuck.

—

Jenson watches amused as they walk around his house. Perhaps it was stupid to still invite them to his house after realizing he wanted them both in his bed. But he couldn’t continue to let them go about running on fumes.

“You guys go get settled, take a nap, rest, and I’ll cook dinner.”

“Let me help, Jenson.”

He shakes his head at her offer, “I’ve got it, sweetheart. I’ll come and get you both when it’s all ready.”

She looks ready to protest again, Logan as well, but he gives them both a stern look, and a simmer of arousal hits him as they both immediately start walking to the guest bedroom with quiet thank you’s. This might end up being a bit harder than he thought.

It does end up being harder than he thought, a lot harder in fact. It seems him realizing he didn’t just find them both attractive but also just plain and simple liked them had opened the floodgates. And their responses to him taking care of them was certainly not helping either.

It was only the third day of them being here but Jenson was sure he was going to cause a bit of an issue with the water with how many cold showers he might end up taking. His satisfaction of them letting him take care of them instantly turned to arousal.

That same day however after dinner as they laze about in the living room while he cleans up the dishes he realizes that they might feel the same way. They can’t stop looking at him. At first, he thought maybe they wanted something but were too shy to say something but when he looked over, they both looked away, clearly flustered at being caught and when he went back to cleaning up, their eyes were on him again, lingering.

It’s confirmation, but he doesn’t plan on doing anything about it, not until hours later as he does his rounds in the house, making sure everything is locked up and he passes their room and he hears them both.

The light sound of skin coming together, small whines and breaths that are more like gasps. His hand palms himself before he can stop it and then he hears it. His name. He freezes, thinking he must have misheard, but then he hears it again, the both of them moaning his name.

He barely makes it to his bedroom, back against the door as he presses his hand into his bottoms and jerks himself off, finishing quickly and making a mess of his sweatpants.

Jenson of course brings it up the next morning. The two are so flustered that even if he hadn’t heard he could guess that something happened.

“Good sleep?” He starts off with, hiding his smirk by taking a drink of coffee.

They both nod, shoulders tensing a little and that has him frowning, setting his mug down. He just started making progress on their tension. “You both sounded lovely.”

Logan’s head snaps up, eyes wide as he looks at him while she gasps, hands coming up to cover her face.

His eyes flicker between the both of them. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you both say my name like that again. Maybe with the visuals as well.”

She makes a squeaky noise at his words and Logan’s cheeks have managed to turn more pink.

“And just to be clear, I wouldn’t want it to be a one time thing, or just sex.”

“But, you want the both of us? I mean more with the both of us?”

Jenson smiles gently at Logan’s nervousness. “Yes, the both of you. I want to take care of you two. And sex doesn’t have to be on the table, I’ll still happily do it without anything sexual, but I figured I’d put it on the table.”

Logan looks a little confused but before Jenson can say anything else, she’s giving a slight tug to Logan’s shirt.

“He’s offering to be our dom.” Her voice is quiet, the words clearly meant for Logan, but her eyes flicker over to him as well.

The American’s eyes widened. “Oh. I, we’ve never,”

“Done this before?”

They both shake their heads.

“I sort of figured. It’s not something I’ve done lots of either to be clear and never on this level. The last time I dommed was years ago and it was just sex. What I would like with us would be more than sex if we even agree to have sex be a part of it at all or to do this.”

“Why do you want to?”

Jenson smiles at her question. “I like you both and want to take care of you. You’re both stressed, spiraling. Barely sleeping or eating. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears with how much tension you both are carrying. I want to ease that, take everything off your shoulders, make it better or rather easier to deal with.”

“And you like taking care of people.”

“Not everyone.” He corrects. “I’m a bit too selfish for that, but certain people,” and his eyes flicker between them. “Absolutely.”

It’s not a very long talk, not as detailed as it should be. But he promises himself that he will sit down with them tomorrow to talk everything out, but they’ve got the basics down. They all are interested in the sexual and in private, like Jenson’s home, are happy to be submissive but don’t want it to bleed into their work/student life as much as they can. He makes sure they know to tell him no. He doesn’t foresee himself pressing too hard about taking breaks and such that it would make their work and student life suffer, but it’s always a possibility and he is far from perfect.

And now not even two hours after waking up he’s got them both in his bed and he can’t help the slight amusement he feels seeing them both wearing Logan’s boxer briefs, he’ll have to see about getting them in his next time. His amusement doesn’t last long however as he takes them in, both laying flat on their backs, upper halves completely bare, both stunning.

“Gorgeous.” He murmurs, sitting at the end of the bed and pressing a kiss to Logan’s calf and then hers. “Both of you look gorgeous for me.”

Her breath audibly stutters, while Logan lets out a keen, fingers twisting in the sheets.

He tuts at the tight grip, running his fingers over the younger man’s until he loosens it. “That’s better. Let’s get you both all relaxed for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Jenson.” They say together and his cock twitches. Fuck is he lucky.

[munsonsmixtapes]

older! eddie who is intimidated by your younger male friends

cw: hurt/comfort, age gap (reader is 25, Eddie 40)

You and Eddie enter the party and he immediately feels uncomfortable. He doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because he’s the oldest person there or maybe it’s because he just wanted to stay in with you. This is your debut as a couple and you’re so excited to show him off.

He doesn’t know why since he’s much older than you and none of your friends don’t seem to understand why you’re together. He’s just feeling a bit insecure but he’s not going to let that ruin his night. He’s going to have fun with you and that’s what matters.

You loop your arm through his and lead him into the house, introducing him to all of your friends. It isn't until he comes across your male friends that a strange feelings arises inside him. He doesn't know what it is or where it came from, but what he does know is that he feels out of place.

"Guys, this is Eddie," you introduce him, beaming from ear to ear. All he can do is shake the hands of your friends as they introduce themselves, not really feeling chatty like he normally is. He honestly just wants to go home, but he's going to stay for you.

He looks at all of them, sitting on the couch and he's sure that it won't hurt them to stand up like it will for him. He's wondering now why you're with him when any of these other men would be better suited for the role. He's fifteen years older than you for crying out loud.

He's never cared, especially since you're an adult, but now he's starting to feel like his age. He can't compete with these guys. They're all in their late twenties and definitely don't have that chronic lower back pain that he always experiences.

He can't stay, not now. The whole thing feels weird to him now, being here with all of your significantly younger friends and he feels like he really shouldn't be there. So he excuses himself for a smoke.

You follow him because something feels off to you. You have a feeling that he's just going to leave without saying goodbye. Everyone else might not have been able to see how uncomfortable he was, but you can. You saw it the second you walked through the door. And you completely understand why he would feel that way. What you don't understand is why he wasn't honest with you.

You feel awful that you dragged him here and that he agreed because he wants to make you happy, but you wish he would have told you the truth. That's more important to you than some stupid party.

He's leaning against his van smoking a cigarette and you make a beeline for him, silently plucking the thing from his fingers and taking a drag of your own. You stand in front of him, staring at him even though he won't meet your eyes.

"You could have told me," you say, your tone coming out a bit more bitter than you intended.

"I'm sorry. I was excited, I really was. But then we got here and seeing all of your guy friends...I don't know, it made me feel old."

"You're not old, baby," you hand the cigarette back to him. "You're not old at all. I don't want you comparing yourself to them, okay? You're my man and I don't want any of them. I just want you." You press your lips to his then take him by the hands. "Now come show me how not old you are, hm?" You open the back of the van and he follows, fully intending on doing exactly that.

taglist: @the-witty-pen-name @k-yurieee

[grimeshound]

UNDER YOUR SPELL.

word count: 4,329 (someone got a little carried away...)

pairing: in-ho x you.

summary: you haunt in-ho’s every thought, an obsession he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries—you have no idea the hold you have on him. when you get drunk for the first time, in-ho seizes the opportunity to show you just how deeply you’ve affected him.

cw: 18+, age-gap, dubcon (forced intoxication), mirror sex, first time, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, semi-public sex, dirty talk, corruption, manipulation

a/n: i’ve had this plot simmering in my head over the past few days ever since i wrote my in-ho hcs and it was practically begging to be written … manipulative in-ho my beloved

---

Ever since he first laid eyes on you, In-ho thought you were the prettiest little angel to ever step foot in this hellhole.

You were nothing like the others. Kind, wide doe eyes, sweet smile that radiated innocence. He wondered how a pretty thing like you had ended up in a place like this. In-ho always did pride himself in his appreciation for the arts, all things with beauty. The moment he took notice of you, it didn’t take long for him to wonder what it would take to make you his.

You had joined a small group, after having met a kind man named Jung-bae who graciously let you in. Everyone shared their names, and that’s when you learned his. Oh Young-il. Except, of course, that wasn’t his real name. Just a guise, a character to play during the time he spent amongst the players. That didn’t matter, though, since you rarely used his name. 

“Sir,” you’d say. The times you did call his name, it’d be “Mister Young-il.”

The first time you spoke to him, you were nervous. It was hard not to be, something about his piercing gaze had a hold on you. Yet, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way you looked up at him, your voice so soft and deferential, made his pulse quicken. He’d do anything to protect you, and he did. Each time the games forced you apart, you’d come running to him the moment you returned to the main hall, your face lighting up with relief.

“I’m so happy you’re okay, sir.” You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, gentle and reassuring.

You hadn’t realized it, but your attachment to him was carefully orchestrated, a product of all the high-risk situations In-ho would engineer to put you through. He’d swoop in at the perfect moment to save you, it made you trust him, made you depend on him more than anyone else. It also nurtured the little crush you were already dewasveloping, and he noticed. You couldn’t help it. He  kind to you, protective, and so devastatingly handsome.

Behind the scenes, he dug through your file. Orphaned from a young age, too naive to understand the world’s cruelties. Trusting the wrong people, you had fallen into debt, landing here. The more he learned, the more he was convinced—You needed someone to take care of you. Someone like him.

One night, In-ho just couldn’t take it anymore. After hours of keeping up his cold, calculated facade, he found himself teetering on the edge of his own sanity. The stress of orchestrating the games was always a burden he bore in silence. But lately? It wasn’t just the carnage and strategy that weighed on his mind. On top of all that, now there was you. Every stolen glance, every soft word you uttered, every moment in your presence had burrowed under his skin. You consumed him, invading every thought until there was no room for anything else.

He knew he was losing control.

When the last murmurs of conversation faded throughout the main hall and the players around him drifted into an uneasy sleep, he finally gave in to his impulses. He had a guard sneak him a bottle of soju, not caring how inappropriate or risky the request was. Rank had its privileges, and he wasn’t above abusing them.

Even in the dim light he spotted you, laid in your bed not too far from his own. All curled up and completely unaware of the monster disguised as your guardian angel watching over you. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. 

He listened to the sound of your breathing as a guide, the quiet rhythm of inhale and exhale filling his ears before finally pulling the bottle from its hiding place beneath his pillow. With a sharp twist, he uncapped it, the faint scent of alcohol wafting into the air around him. Sitting up in his bunk, he took a long, deliberate swig. The burn of the soju as it slid down his throat was a welcome distraction, albeit temporary. He exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair.  

The alcohol dulled the edges of his stress but sharpened something far more dangerous, far sicker. Desire. Thoughts of you came to surface before he could resist, vivid and unrelenting. He thought of your wide, trusting eyes looking up at him, the way your voice wavered when you spoke his name. He didn’t stop his thoughts when they turned more and more depraved. Your quiet utters of his name turning into obscene moans, innocent brushes of skin escalating into him fucking you like a madman into the crummy bed he sat beneath. The way you clung to him, so innocent, so naive, so completely unaware of just how sick his thoughts would turn because of you. 

He took another long swig, his grip tightening around the bottle as his frustration intensified. How could you do this to him without even realizing? Without even trying? It was maddening, the hold you had over him. And now, with the liquor loosening his usually taut held control, he found himself wondering how much longer he could resist. How much longer he could keep his hands to himself.

And then, as if summoned by his desires, your voice broke the silence.

“Sir?”

He turned to see you turned towards him, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. He softened instantly, smiling lazily as he called your name. “You’re awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You climbed up to his bed without hesitation, settling beside him. “What about you?” 

“Me neither,” he murmured. He thanked whatever god there was that you couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t take a peek into the sick fantasies that had clouded up his thoughts just moments ago. Even now, when sat face to face with you, they played in the background— like a channel he couldn’t turn off no matter how hard he’d press the remote. Only, he didn’t make much effort in stopping them. If anything, the fantasies only shot up with you now in front of him. 

Your attention was soon drawn to the green bottle in his hand. “Is that… soju?”

He chuckled at your amazement. “It is.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “I’ve never had any before.”

His heart skipped. You really were too good to be true, weren’t you? He feigned surprise. “Never?”

You shook your head. “No. But..” You hesitated for a bit. “I’d like to try, if that’s okay.”

How polite. How trusting. He handed the bottle to you, hiding his smirk beneath a kind, patient smile. “Of course. Go ahead.”

You took it with both hands, your fingers brushing his briefly. There was a moment of hesitation, a fleeting glance at him as though you were silently asking for reassurance. He gave you a small nod, his expression warm and encouraging. Uttey deceptive. The thought of getting you completely wasted, rendering you impossibly dumber and even more impressionable than you already are rang like music to his ears. You tilted your head back as you gulped down more than he expected. He didn’t stop you, though. Simply watching with quiet satisfaction as you drained a sizable amount.

The first sip had your nose scrunching up, the bitter taste of the alcohol overhwleming you. Instead of backing out, you pressed on, curiosity and his approving gaze egging you on. With each gulp, you felt your body tense slightly at the unaccustomed burn that slid down your throat.

In-ho watched you intently, his dark eyes locked on you as the bottle tipped higher and higher. You were drinking far more than he expected, but he made no effort to stop you. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his lips quirking into a faint smile. Quiet satisfaction flickered in his eyes as he watched your determination to please him override your inexperience.

When you finally lowered the bottle, your lips were shiny from the liquid, your cheeks already beginning to flush, something In-ho was quick to take notice of. Whether it be your inexperience, the quickness of which you downed the Soju or the fact that you haven’t really drank or ate much prior. The alcohol had hit you harder than you anticipated, working its way through your system with worrying speed. Your head tilted back slightly as you tried to regain focus, blinking up at him with worried, glassy eyes. 

“Sir,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I feel…so funny.”

He stepped closer, his hand moving to steady you by your waist when your knees buckled slightly. “Funny how, sweetheart?” he humored you, the concern in his tone carefully crafted.

“Dizzy,” You clung to him instinctively, your hands gripping his arm like a lifeline as you specified. “I feel lightheaded, mister Young-il. M’scared.”

“Shh,” he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. His hand slid to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he held you steady. “It’s okay. You’re just not used to it, s’all.”

Your forehead rested against his chest, your breath uneven as you tried to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with something twisted in his gaze, though his voice remained tender and reassuring. “Poor baby,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand stroked your hair, the sound of his words soothing you. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

You were too drunk to notice the dark glint in his eyes or the way his smile lingered just a little too long. Too naive to realize how tightly his grip held you, as though he’d never let go.

Young-il led you to the bathroom, steadying you with a firm grip as you clung to him for balance. Every touch, every reassuring glance he gave you was planned down to the last detail, feeding into the web he’d been weaving since the moment he first laid eyes on you. You were his perfect little pawn, and now, more than ever, he could see his plan falling into place. 

When he knocked on the bathroom door, you were already bracing yourself for the usual bargaining and desperate pleading that so often accompanied requests to use the facilities. But to your surprise, the guards let you both pass without hesitation, a testament to the sway your knight in shining armor seemed to hold.

He guided you inside, shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. Leading you to the sink, he turned on the faucet, letting the cool water rush out. “Here,” he said softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s wash your face. It’ll help.”

You nodded, leaning over the sink and splashing the water onto your flushed cheeks. The cold sting sent a brief jolt through you, though it did little to clear the fog in your mind. When you blinked your eyes open and straightened, you nearly jumped at the sight of him standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a weight against your back.

Your wide-eyed gaze flicked up to the mirror. He stood there, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the intensity in his eyes made your stomach twist. Despite yourself, you wiped your face with your sleeve and offered him a sheepish smile.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, stepping closer. His hand brushed your damp hair back from your face, the gesture tender in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Good,” you mumbled, though the truth was far from it. The alcohol swirled in your system, leaving you dizzier than before. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, it sent a warmth through your chest that was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his tone low and velvety, each syllable wrapping around you like a shackle. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten until now, his chest pressing lightly against your back.

Your breath hitched as something firm brushed against you from behind, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper. “Sir Young-il…?”

“In-ho,” he rasped, cutting you off. “My real name, it’s In-ho.” His voice had dropped even lower, and there was something raw and possessive in the way he said it. You blinked, confused, his real name rolling off your tongue before you could even think twice to question him.

“In-ho,” you repeated softly, as if testing the weight of it. “What’s going on?”

His lips curved into a faint smile, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. “I’ll take good care of you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded too quickly, too eagerly, the alcohol and your long-brewing crush on him clouding your better judgment. “I trust you,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly as he trailed his fingers along your waist, his touch deliberate and possessive.

He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you two as his lips found yours in a kiss—the first one you’d ever shared. Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined it to unfold. You pictured your first kiss with a high school crush, maybe some boy your age who’d take you out on an innocent date. But all those dreams faded the moment you met In-ho, and now, all dreams you had were consumed by him.

You pressed against him, letting him take control as his kiss deepened, hungry and intense, like a man starved for more. You followed his lead instinctively, trusting him—because you always knew, deep down, he knew what was best. So when he raised his fingers to your lips, you hesitated for only a moment before parting them, allowing him to slip two fingers inside. His dark eyes gleamed as you sucked obediently, your cheeks flushing deeper under his watchful gaze. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and his breathing grew heavier.

Pulling his fingers away, he wasted no time in hooking them into the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down in one hasty motion. His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear as his right hand skimmed the sensitive skin of your neck.

You grabbed his wrist suddenly, your touch light and hesitant. “Wait, In-ho—” you murmured, your voice trembling with embarrassment. His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I… I’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He wasn’t surprised; he had suspected as much. But hearing it from you, seeing the vulnerability in your gaze—only stoked the fire burning within him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice deceptively gentle, though there was an unmistakable tension in his tone.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. “I trust you. Just… be gentle. Please.” 

He smiled at that, a flicker of something darker hidden beneath the curve of his lips. “Of course,” he murmured, his hands resuming their slow exploration. But in his mind, he knew the truth: restraint was never his strong suit. Especially when it came to you. 

And with you—so soft, so eager, so completely his, he doubted he could hold himself back for long.

His fingers, still slick with your saliva, trailed down to your entrance, brushing over it with deliberate precision. The touch made you jolt, a shiver running up your spine as you gasped. In-ho groaned low in his throat, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “Fucking dripping,” he mused, his voice a sinful rasp. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, the intrusion making your thighs instinctively part.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he pressed deeper, his touch firm but unhurried. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt something like this, but the last time had been your own doing—fumbling, desperate, and entirely unremarkable. That had been just days ago, tucked away in one of these very bathroom stalls, shamefully thinking of him. Now, with his hands where yours had been, the stark difference had you feeling light-headed. 

His fingers were thicker, rougher, impossibly skilled. The sensation left you trembling, your legs threatening to give out as he worked you open. His other arm snaked around your upper chest, holding you close, his grip firm yet possessive. The position bordered on a chokehold, but instead of fear, it only sent another wave of heat coursing through you.

Your breath hitched as a soft, broken “Ohmygod,” fell from your lips. He didn’t pause, didn’t falter. His finger curled just right, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your hands gripped on In-ho’s forearm, knuckles white as you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying and failing to stifle your moans.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet, roughened by desire. He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. His other hand released its hold on your chest as it moved lower, settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you.

You nodded weakly, barely able to form words. “Uh-huh… feels so good, sir,”

That made him chuckle, a deep, dark sound that reverberated through your body. The honorific sent a thrill down his spine, his cock straining against the confines of his sweatpants.

“You’re ready,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he pulled back just enough to tug his waistband down. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide as you took him in, the sight was intimidating, your head reeling. 

"In-ho, I–I don’t think I can take that." Your voice faltered, a hint of shame creeping into your words. He laughed, a sound so familiar it sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of hearty laugh you'd grown so used to hearing from him. But now, there was something different—something darker layered beneath it, like a cruel mockery. "Course you can, angel," he said, his tone smooth but laced with an unsettling edge. "I know you can. Let me take care of you."

“H-Here? Like this?” you asked, your voice small and unsure, referring to the state he had you in—bent over the sink and in front of the mirror. utterly at his mercy.

He leaned in, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your gaze back at your reflection. “Right here,” he confirmed, his voice a low growl. Want you to watch yourself while I’m fucking you open.”

The vulgarity of his words sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching for him. You nodded, too dazed and drunk to do anything else, and he didn’t waste another second.

He slid inside slowly, the stretch making you cry out and grip the sink tighter. The initial sting was sharp, but it quickly gave way to something deeper, something so intense it left you gasping. Your legs wobbled beneath you, and you leaned harder against the sink for support.

“In-ho… In-ho,” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a chant. “Sir… I— I feel you in my stomach.”

The confession had him groaning, a sound so guttural it made your knees weak. “Yeah? Fuck, baby.” He babbled as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours as his hand trailed down with deliberate slowness. When his palm flattened against your stomach, his fingers brushing over the faint outline of him inside you, your breath hitched. 

“Feel that?” he murmured, his composure slipping as he began to move. His hips snapped against yours, each thrust deliberate and punishing. You nodded frantically, a whimper escaping as he pressed down, sending a shockwave through your body. “In-ho, nngh!—“ 

You were completely out of it, your thoughts a tangled haze, your body slack and pliant in his hands. The alcohol coursing through your veins had stripped away every layer of hesitation, leaving you wide open to his manipulations. And In-ho, oh, he reveled in it. The way your voice slurred when you called his name, the way your movements were unsteady, dependent on him for every step and touch—it all fueled his sick delight. You were better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

As he pulled you closer, pressing into you from behind, your gaze flicked to the bathroom door, a flicker of worry breaking through your drunken stupor. “In-ho…” you mewled, voice soft as you felt your body jerk with each rough thrust he made.. “What if–ah!—someone walks in?”

He paused, his hands resting possessively on your hips, a smile ghosting across his lips. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, his voice low and soothing, though there was an unmistakable edge of amusement in his tone. “The guards won’t come.” His confidence sent a shiver through you, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “But… but what if another player—”

“No one’s going to interrupt us,” he said firmly, his dark eyes boring into yours before you could finish your sentence. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. “You’re with me. They wouldn’t dare.”

Something about the absolute certainty, the power in his voice—had your anxiety ebbing away, replaced by a strange sense of safety. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch, your inhibitions melting once again under his spell.

“You trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Mmhm,” You squeaked out through laboured breaths. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you back against him. He watched your reflection as his fingers dug into your soft flesh, relishing the way you gasped and arched into his touch.

Your head lolled slightly, your body swaying under his hold. “Mmmh…I feel so dizzy,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho chuckled darkly, his hands moving to steady you. “That’s just the soju, sweetheart,” he said, though he didn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

He loved seeing you like this. Drunk, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. Every soft whimper, every stumble, every little movement that showed how completely you relied on him only fueled his desire. You were his, whether you realized it or not.

As his fingers grazed your skin, he couldn’t resist pushing you further, testing your reactions as he pushed your buttons. “You know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the curve of your neck, “Y’look so pretty like this. All fucked out and needy. Just for me.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, pressed against him. “Y-you think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, his voice a velvety purr. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. “Just look at yourself, baby. See how perfect you are for me?”

Your hazy eyes flicked to the mirror, taking in the sight of the two of you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, his expression raw and predatory. The way he looked at you—it was almost too much. Your cheeks burned, and you averted your eyes, biting your lip.

He wasn’t having that. His hand left your waist, fingers gently gripping your chin and turning your face back toward the mirror. “No,” he said firmly. “I want you to watch. Watch yourself while I take care of you.”

The authority in his voice sent a thrill through you, your body trembling as you nodded weakly. “O-okay—ah, fuck!”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

As his hands roamed lower, teasing and exploring, you couldn’t help the soft, breathless moans that spilled from your lips. Every touch, every word, every look from him pulled you deeper into the fog of your drunken desire, leaving you utterly helpless in his grasp.

And In-ho? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin, your muffled cries, and his filthy murmurs. “Thaat’s it, there’s my pretty girl.” His hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fucking take it. Just like that.”

Every thrust sent you higher, the alcohol in your system amplifying every sensation, every nerve alight with pleasure. Your mind was fogged, the world around you turning into nothing but a senseless blur. And yet, you felt every little sensation In-ho fed you, each rough snap of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt your climax building, overwhelming and unstoppable. Your eyes fluttered shut, ready to let go—but his hand suddenly cupped your cheek, a sharp slap bringing you back.

“I told you,” he growled, his voice authoritative. “None of that. You keep your eyes on me when I fill you up. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, gasping as you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze once again through the mirror—the sight was enough to send you over the edge. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you cried out his name.

The sight of you coming undone beneath him was his undoing. With a few more erratic thrusts, he followed, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. A deep groan tore from his chest, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he rode out his high.

The room fell into silence, save for the sound of your labored breathing. In-ho steadied you, his hands gentle now as he helped you stand. He brushed your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“If we get out of here alive…” A sheepish smile spread across your face, “Let’s drink again sometime?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “When we get out,” he corrected, his tone laced with quiet determination. He kissed you once more, sealing the promise. And he meant it. If it meant keeping you by his side, he’d kill every last player in the game with his bare hands.

[bitchface24-7]

And I am back once again with my regularly schedules JayVik x reader request!

For context this time, I tend to have a pretty stable sleep schedule but whenever I’m on vacation it kinda goes to shit. This will lead to me staying up til 2am and waking up at noon for days on end which is super annoying. So In order to fix this, I will pull an all-nighter in an attempt to “reset” my sleep schedule (which actually does work but I also super wouldn’t recommend it)

I had to do this again recently and while I’ve gotten used to it, it’s still annoying to deal with. I know for a fact that both Jayce and Viktor have ass sleep schedules and, while Jayce’s may have gotten slightly better after becoming a council member (out of necessity mayhaps), I am still willing to bet money that they both pull regular all nighters

With all that being said, I think it would be nice to pull an all nighter while hanging out in the lab, spending the time trying to keep each other up with too much coffee and dumb conversations. On the flip side, I also think it might be funny if Jayce/Vik tried to convince Reader to just sleep and have reader call them out on their shit

(Also mayhaps some cuddling? Would probably make me fall asleep instantly but also I need to be squished between them (non-sexual style))

Thank you in advanced, hope you’re taking care of yourself :))

ALL NIGHTER - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: all of you have the worst sleep schedules ever. Point blank period. So when you decide to pull an all-nighter with them, you remember how much it sucks; but it does help you fix your sleep schedule in a jiffy. If only the two men didn’t constantly try to get you to sleep. If you’re sleeping; so are they.

warnings: nothing. It’s fluffy like cotton candy. Goofing off, banter, negotiation, cuddling

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I too have to reset my sleep schedule sometimes and I know how ass it makes me feel. But I just can’t help it, I don’t want my day to end (especially if I have things to do the next day) so I just… stay up 😭

Your sleep schedule has been fucked ever since you got time off from your job and took that god-forsaken nap. You took it at five p.m. and woke up at one in the morning. You then stayed up until five pm again and fell asleep.

Rinse and repeat.

Now you're going to use your tried and true method in desperate situations, you’re gonna pull an all nighter.

And who better to do it with than your two boys?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You walk into the lab, your feet dragging across the floor a bit. It’s almost four p.m. and you can feel the fatigue coursing through your body.

You want to sleep, but you can't.

Viktor and Jayce are experimenting as you come up to their stations. Jayce shoots you a big grin and Viktor just nods lightly in your direction. You walk further into the lab and plop onto your designated rollie chair.

"You okay?" Jayce asks, his big puppy dog eyes looking at you. You tiredly smile at him, "I'm just tired, trying to pull an all-nighter to fix my sleep schedule."

You hear a small hum at your statement, "Understandable. I do the same thing when needed." Viktor adds as he continues to work. Jayce looks worried at you two, "I get my sleep schedule also isn't the best, but I have maybe done an all-nighter once or twice. How often have y'all done this?"

Viktor stops working and contemplates Jayce's question, you look up to the ceiling and try to add up the amount of times you did this, "Anywhere from six to ten times? I really only have to do it after I get time off, I get so excited having nothing to do that I stay up way too late and wake up way too late."

Jayce huffs at you and looks to Viktor, "And you?" Viktor purses his lips and looks to the side, "Too often."

"Viktor!"

"What? Leave me alone."

You giggle at them, "You can't say anything Jayce. You've pulled all-nighters too. I've seen you stay too late at the lab and bring home paperwork from the council home."

Jayce sputters as the two of you giggle at him. His fond look gives away him fake irritation.

"You should sleep, love. Honestly pulling all-nighters is bad for your health."

"And you're a hypocrite Viktor. Pass me the coffee pot, I'm staying up for as long as I can."

Viktor sighs and complies to your demand. It's true, he is a bit hypocritical.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The delirium has set in. Everything is making you three giggle, how Jayce's hammer sounds as he works on a prototype, how Viktor's accent swirls his words due to his exhaustion, looking at each other for too long.

The lab is full of snorts, cackling laughter, and wheezing.

You look at the clock and see it's almost three in the morning, "Ok, I'd say it's bedtime now. We'll probably wake up at around nine or ten in the morning and we'll be able to go to sleep properly later today."

Both Viktor and Jayce whine, wanting to stay up longer. You shut the shit down.

"Nope! Nuh-uh, bed time for all of us, c'mon."

They listen to you, complaining the whole time, but the minute you all lay in the lab's futon, they almost pass out insatntly.

You're smack dab in the middle. You're essentially laying on top of Jayce and Viktor is on top of you. You hear Jayce's heartbeat as you card your finger's through Viktor's hair.

You sigh in content, this is gonna be the best sleep of your life, you can feel it.

It's great being a teddy bear.

Having a delirious laughing attack would be great with them. Like when you’re laughing with a friend in class and you just can’t stop 😭😭 I miss that so much bro

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

i'll be honest i haven't done as much Illario Pondering up to this point as some others. but i am Rotating Him now so gonna do my thinking out loud on my already too long post just because...

obviously Illario and Lucanis responded to their childhoods in very different ways/grew up into very different people but i think if you want to trace Illario's Issues back down to this level you can see how that would turn him into who we see in the game/stories too.

while Lucanis ends up as a loner with "no one else" (that he Counts anyway), Illario seems to have way more connections when we meet him as an adult--he flirts with anyone, he's into nightlife, he hooks up with random people at parties, the other Crows will mention him like he's a known presence in their lives--yet none of them know what he's Really up to. So his relationships outside Lucanis & Caterina do seem to exist in plenty, but they also seem to be very shallow. Unless he has some offscreen never mentioned confidant, no one seems to know what he's up to, with either Lucanis's or Caterina's "deaths", or his alliance with the Venatori/Gods. he's kept that part secret while keeping up all these other social connections. in theory maybe he got some of the other off-screen talons on his side who knew the whole story but we don't have any evidence for that either way I think (though I don't remember all the codex details so I could be wrong).

[sidebar: yes, Zara, i know. apparently they were deep enough in whatever they had going on to have love-y pet names but like... clearly not enough that Illario wasn't willing to kill her to cover his own tracks; and personally i have my doubts that the relationship was without any ulterior motives on Zara's part either. even if they did care for each other on some level they were or weren't willing to admit (since that's entirely within our realm of interpretation now) it clearly took lesser priority than their other goals)]

SO. Illario's a conniving man (intentionally!) who isn't sharing everything he knows with his "allies" probably on either side, but at the same time... he is still a very emotional man. i don't think the whole "use people and drop them" thing is his actual desire as much as how he's gotten used to operating in the world. while Lucanis seems to have self-isolated as a way to protect both himself & those around him, I think you can interpret Illario as instead learning that he can achieve the same result by instead having a large amount of very shallow relationships. By spreading around his desire for connection he creates a situation where Caterina can't possibly remove them all from his life, but has the plausible deniability of not being actively close to anyone so he doesn't risk punishment falling on himself either.

and i don't necessarily think his approach was a WORSE one compared to Lucanis', at first. in many ways something's better than nothing and Illario seems to have a better understanding of himself & his emotions (not saying he always does or it's a GOOD understanding, but "better than Lucanis" is not a very high bar), plus way more experience in general at just. social anything. because now that they're adults, ILLARIO is the one who has managed to stand up to Caterina, and change the direction of his own life, even if he did pick the most ruthless path to it. Unlike Lucanis (in The Wigmaker Job & first parts of Veilguard) he DOES show great deal of autonomy, understanding that his tiny family is the thing holding him back from what he really wants. But he also has no one else jumping over to help him, no one left he can manipulate, and so he reaches past the crows to the Venatori/Gods as the next step.

so the true downside to this is in fact based in reputation more than anything else. because he's spent years seemingly playing with the emotions of everyone else while never really giving them a way in, as a coping mechanism... he's already burned those potential bridges in a way Lucanis hasn't. people aren't willing to extend extra graces to him the same way. possibly it even contributed to why Caterina liked him less as a successor, since he was less controllable by her personal rules/whims. i dont really have a thesis statement here like before since i haven't been mulling it over as long but i think it's a fun way to interpret their dynamic.

man... in Veilguard it really is so so clear how much Lucanis yearns for connection, how much he laments having barely anyone who is a tangible long-term presence in his life. Illario and Caterina are IT until he meets Rook, he tells them.

but he grew up in the Dellamorte estate. A huge, huge manor that would not just have servants, but STAFF. payrolls full of people who clean and cook and keep the place running. And we know he had some amount of free reign around the place. He explored in the tunnels and basements and found the secret entrance/exit while playing alone. He learned how to make churros and cook other food from the kitchen staff. Someone taught him to knit. So... where are those people? Where's the kindly cook who became a second mother, or the maids who watched him play? He would know their names and remember them, if they were around long enough. And it's NOT just some rich boy privilege that makes him forget they're there, because we know he sees the working class as people who with real lives. In The Wigmaker Job, he knows elves in the alienage, who think well enough of him to let him use their secret routes around the city. He risks the whole mission and breaks rules to let one single serving maid go--they're not invisible or somehow lesser to him. He was raised as a Crow, he's been trained since he was a boy to be observant--he'd listen for the names and details about the lives of servants who were around him all the time as a child. And he is also kind and gentle, so he would reach back if they offered him any kind of affection

Which means their absence in his life is intentional. Caterina must have had the staff rotated often enough that he couldn't learn who they were, and discouraged anyone from talking to or connecting with the Dellamorte boys--she probably thought she was keeping them safe. Keeping them from having people who might matter and therefore could be used against all of them--not to mention it's way easier to slip a poisoned treat to a trusting child, or convince them to follow you out of the estate to an undisclosed location. Her paranoia after losing all her children and other grandkids warped into isolating the Dellamorte boys utterly from any kind of connection and affection outside of herself, and then she withheld it anyway, because she was afraid of getting hurt again too (<- not an excuse, still abuse). And she is NOT a kind woman, who would look over a transgression--servants disobeying her orders about staying away from her grandsons would mean losing their job at best and probably physical punishment along with it. Or maybe you just never saw that coworker who dared say something kind to a crying child again.

It's so sad. And makes it so much more meaningful that there WERE occasional times he got away with it anyway. I wonder how much those cooks risked when teaching him how a kitchen runs, and to make his favorite dessert. If they had some excuse for it, or were all sent away once Caterina found out. Of course he'd stop trying to make friends with any children of the staff his age, if any time he did, the whole family got moved to work at a summer villa in the country instead. If the people who cleaned his rooms were different every month. He'd notice that anyone who he tried to get close to just ended up out of his life entirely, and so eventually Caterina wouldn't need to keep isolating him intentionally as he grew. Lucanis learned. He started doing it himself.

[revelboo]

I actually got one of the random love letters from conjunx too. It came in yesterday and I got Brainstorm, checked your account a little after and there was a Brainstorm fic. Timing was impeccable.

Their letters are too cute!

Fight For You Pt 2

D 16 x Reader

• Cradling you in his servos, he’s absolutely fascinated with how tiny you are. He’s never actually seen a mini-con before, but he’s heard stories. That sometimes they transform or combine into weapons, while others can boost a bot’s strength. They’re rare, though. And jealously protected by the wealthy. Servos toying with the tether that’s attached to your back, he vents. Had you escaped from your owner? Knows he’ll get in trouble if he’s caught with you and that the smart thing to do would be to hand you over to Darkwing. Maybe he’d go up a rank for finding you. Except, that tether bothers him. Turning you in would mean condemning you to being leashed again. It’s none of his business, but he still can’t do it.

• Ow. Aching down to your very bones, you lift your head, disoriented for a moment before you realize you’re wearing your helmet. And it all comes rushing back in a breathless rush of terror. The gate malfunctioning and getting pulled through. Shoving upright, you hear a deep grumbling and your head turns. Can’t scream, can’t even move as you stare up at that massive monster looking down at you. Hyperventilating as it reaches and crooks a massive servo inches from your face. When you don’t move, it flexes the servo and grumbles some more. Trying to help you up? Not hurt you?

• “You’re okay,” he says, warming when you cautiously lay a tiny hand on his servo and allow him to pull you to your peds. He’s spent most of his recharge cycle searching the archive for known mini-cons and coming up empty. Can’t find you in the records at all. “Do you have a name? I’m D-16.” And you just stare up at him, before chirping tinnily and touching his servo again. Rubbing his other hand against his helm, he vents because he has no clue what you’re saying. Can’t understand the obscure mini-con dialect. Which means he’s no closer to figuring out the mystery of you. Idling playing with the old datapad, he pulls up a favorite vid. It’s grainy and faded, but it’s one of the few surviving records of Megatronus Prime. He’s watched it so many times he about has it memorized. Seeing you looking up at the screen, he tips it so you can see better. “You like Megatronus? He was the best of us. The strongest of the Primes.”

• Deciding the giant isn’t going to hurt you or he’d have done it already, you turn your attention to the video he’s watching. And your heart stops when you see the little, blurry shape almost hidden by the arm of the bigger, purple alien giant. “Hey! That’s part of my team!” Pointing with one hand you slap the other against his servo. “There! Right there!” And he grumbles softly, making your breath hitch with the realization that you just smacked him. Except he doesn’t seem angry, so you point.

• What’s gotten into you all of a sudden. Squeaking and chirping excitedly as you point at- at- that’s you isn’t it? How has he watched this vid so many times and never noticed the mini-con right there peeking around Megatronus’s arm? “You were his mini-con? Megatronus’s?” Watches you reach to pat a tiny hand on the screen as his mouth just falls open. Because you’re not just a lost mini-con that’s been kept on a leash. Your Megatronus Prime’s. “I’ve never heard of him even having a mini-con.” But there you are. You’re too distinct looking for there to be two like you and he’s almost giddy with that realization. You’d known him. Fought beside him. And he has so many questions.

Previous

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The cops wade in and out of the house as your world turns as dusky as the ocean depths. You sit at the table, staring as the smell of seasoned pork wafts in the air with the voices and the crackle of radios. Footsteps go back and forth down the hall as shadows loom over you.  

The one across from you says your name. Again. Officer Bolton has thinning gray hair but a thick mustache. You know him. He knew your dad and would stop by whenever his cruiser needed a top-up. 

“I need ya to write it down, miss,” he taps on the notepad in front of you. “Since ya can’t talk. Need a written statement anyway.” 

You blink at him. You feel sick. The smell of the cooking meat is making it worse. You frown and get up. You go to the stove and turn the dial off. It’s probably dried out anyway. 

“Miss,” Bolton calls after you. 

A sniff comes from behind you and you turn. Sy enters with another officer; Private West. He’s probably about your age. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen as many of us in one place,” West says in a tone brighter than the circumstance. 

“Well, it’s a sight to see, isn’t it? Old Don, crushed...” 

You wobble forward and latch onto the back of the chair. You can hear the impact of Sy’s fist over and over. You glance at him as his brow furrows. You just got to tell the same story he did. The one he went over before they got there. 

“It’s her daddy,” Sy says as he comes forward to help you into the chair. 

You sit and rub your throat. You don’t have much of a choice. If you tell the truth, it doesn’t get you much. Your dad is still gone. You don’t know that anyone would believe it anyway. He always told them all you were too stupid. 

“Sorry, miss,” West scratches the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean nothing.” 

You stare at the paper and pick up the pen. Your hand shakes as you hover it over the page. What happens after? What happens if you don’t listen? Will Sy hurt you too? 

You put the nib to the paper and lean forward. It’s like writing a story. You go through what he told you too. You were in the kitchen and you heard a loud noise... 

“Good girl,” Officer Bolton praises. “We just need that statement then we can go file the report. They’ll have that body down at the morgue by midnight.” 

“Awful stuff,” Sy shudders. You almost believe him. 

“Should we keep someone here?” West asks. 

“Ya think the engine’s got a mind of its own,” Bolton scoffs over the scratching of the pen. “Sy, you gon’ look after the girl? Don’t think she ever spent a night without her daddy.” 

Just like always, you’re not there. They talk about you like a thing. Like you can’t understand them. You’re just the same burden you always were. 

“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Her daddy just gave us his blessing, like I was telling the Private. You know, I offered to help finish up that old Bronco so we could talk about the wedding...” 

“Blessing?” Bolton leans back and stretches his arms behind his head, “well, how about that? Syverson, you a good man. Knowing she need someone, huh?” 

“She’s a nice woman,” he puts his hand on the back of your chair. “Quiet. And she makes a hell of a dinner. Seeing as you and the boys came all the way out, I’m sure you can help out with the roast she was slavin’ over. Can’t have it goin’ to waste.” 

You put the pen down. That’s it. The lies are in ink. 

You stand up and go to the stove. This is how it will be. Same as it ever was but it’s Sy now. You open the oven door and put on the mitts to take out the pan. 

“Does smell good,” Bolton says. “My old lady always overheats the damn thing and she got not taste for flavourings.” 

“If you don’t mind,” West adds. “I usually just pop a frozen pizza in after my shift.” 

“Y’all been so good about Don and there’s lots to go around.” Sy affirms as you carve up the tender meat. Not dry at all though to you, the smell is sickening. 

“It is late, past dinner, ain’t it?” Bolton grumbles. 

“We’ll get some plates down. Least we can do is feed y’all,” Sy drawls. 

You keep your head down and obey his indirect orders. You blood is a flow of ice. You’re trembling as you scoop the gravy and potatoes over the roast.  

Your dad’s dead. It’s a startling reality that hasn’t quite sunk in. That’s not what has you unnerved. No, it’s that new truth that you’re struggling to accept. Sy. He’s not going anywhere. 

You understand now what he was asking your dad. He wants to marry you, but why? Why you? Your dad wasn’t wrong. You’re boring. You’re dull. There’s something wrong with you. So why would anyone want you when your only family could never even stand you? 

💍

When the house is quiet, you don’t know what to do. When it was you and your dad, he ignored you. It was just like being alone. But with Sy, everything is different. Nothing can be like it once was. Like it always was. 

He calls your name from down the hall. You haven’t moved from the kitchen table since you served up the roast to the men invading your home. You didn’t kill your dad but you feel like you helped. 

If you could just speak up and tell Sy to go home before everything turned bad. No, you just stood there and listened. You put your back to it all and then... 

You get up and peek around the corner. His silhouette is like a cloud of gloom at the end. You shuffle toward him, hands fold, feet heavy. He flips on the light and you squint. 

“Hey, sugar, you tired? It’s real late, isn’t it?” 

You shrug and look at your bedroom door then back to him. You flinch as his large hand lands on your shoulder. You pout up at him and hold back a quiver of fear. You can feel how easily he hurt your dad. 

“I’m gonna have a shower, wash the day off,” he says. You notice his tie is undone. “You go on and lay down. You deserve a rest.” 

You lower your chin and he catches it in his hand. You bat your lashes and stare up at him. You move your hands behind you and bunch your fingers until your nails jab your palms. He leans in as you stand rigid and terrified. 

His lips meet yours and his coarse beard tickles you. He hums as he kisses you softly. You squeeze your eyes shut as your heart thumps. You’ve never been kissed before. Never even thought of it because it was just never something that would happen to you. 

You feel as if you might tip over as he pulls away. You stay like that as his hand falls away and he clears his throat. You open your eyes and blink. 

“Was that... okay?” He drags his hand over his beard. “Ahh, probably scratchy,” he combs his finger through the hair. “I’ma get nice and fresh for ya, sugar.” 

Your lips are tingly and hot. You turn and push through your bedroom door. He’s watching you but you’re too afraid to look back. 

You close the door but don’t latch it. You don’t want to make him angry. He exhales and his weight creaks in the floor. The bathroom door clicks and the shower buzzes shortly after. 

You turn on the light and glance around. You sit at the folding table. The small beads lay in their clusters, sorted by colour, but you can’t bring yourself to put them into the grid. Your vision blurs as you languish in the aftermath. 

You should cry. Your dad is gone. You should be sad. You’re scared, you’re confused, you’re lost, but there’s nothing in your heart missing.  

The air ripples and Sy’s yawn frightens you. His shadow moves into the room behind you. He grunts as you watch his arms stretch above him in his grey silhouette. Even then, he is huge. 

“You should come to bed, sugar,” he girds as he sits and tests the frame of your bed with a bounce. “Come ‘ere.” 

You look down at your hands and splay your fingers over your legs. You slowly stand and turn to him. He tuts as you gape at his shirtless form. He wears only a pair of plaid boxers. You gulp. You’ve never seen a man like that. Through the fabric, you can’t even trace... well... 

“You can’t sleep in that, can ya?” He says. 

You peer down and up again. You jump into action and go to your dresser. You take out a loose pair of linen pants and a bulkier tee. Before he can react or you can think, you flit out. 

You lock yourself in the bathroom and change. The familiar task keeps your panic from flowing over. When you’re done, you hesitate. You gather up your clothes and face the door. You have to go back now. 

You shudder and leave the bathroom. You enter your room and go straight to the basket of dirty clothes. You drop in the day’s outfit and stay facing the corner. He coughs. 

“Turn the light off, sug.” 

You keep your gaze averted as you obey. You turn off the light and tiptoe to the bed. You linger before it. You wince as he locks onto your wrist and tugs you closer. Your knees hit the frame and you let him bring you down next to him. It’s a small bed, narrow just for him, crowded with both of you. 

He nestles you against him as you curl up on your side. He brings the blanket over both of you and hugs you snugly. He nuzzles your hair and drones in content. 

“Isn’t this nice, huh?” He asks. 

You can’t move. If you had a voice to speak, you couldn’t. You just give in to his power. That’s what always kept you safe. To appease is to survive. 

You close your eyes and he yawns again, “I’m beat too,” he rasps. “But I’ll be all too happy to wake up next to you.” 

His breath puffs into your hair and swathes your scalp in damp heat. As each intake and exhale slows and steadies, he snores like rumbling thunder. It isn’t the noise that keeps you awake though. 

The night wears on with the subtle movement of shadows through the window. You listen to the house and its creaks and cracks. Even with Sy wrapped around you, you feel alone. Desolate. You wallow with the whirling winds as they swim through the leaves. 

Morning slowly peeks over the window sill but your world is no brighter. You grow restless and squirm beneath his arm. You turn on your back as you try to peel it away. He grunts and draws his hand back, cupping your chest to your horror. 

You clasp onto his hand and he purrs, “so soft.” 

You pinch his forearm then slap his bicep. He can’t touch you like that! You didn’t say he could. His eyes snap open and he leans back against the wall with a grunt. 

“Hmph, sugar, what’s going on?” He asks groggily. 

You sit up and cross your arms over your chest. You put your chin down and scowl. He reaches for you again, this time he strokes your arm, and you swat him away. He took your dad, he made you lie, and now he’s just touching you! Kissing you! 

You turn quickly and hop off the bed. He calls your name and you wave at him dismissively. You hurry from the room without looking back. Your heart races as you listen for his pursuit. You don’t hear it, even as you get to the kitchen. 

You stop on the tile and take a breath. Coffee. You can handle that. He drinks it, just like your dad. You remember. If men are all alike, then all you need to do is cook and clean and keep to yourself. 

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hey, you.

If you're American, and you've been having a hard week egg for.. reasons -

I have something to say to the Americans.

Just remember.

They aren't immortal.

Nobility has lied for centuries. They told us they were placed on the throne by God - the rule of the king being the will of the Creator.

The French proved them wrong.

You are young. They are human. They will one day die.

And on the day they die - regardless of if hell is real or not - there will be a movement when they are laying on that death bed. They will feel their live slipping from their grasp.

And they will feel the fear.

The possiblity of eternal consequence.

They will fear what waiting for them on the other side. The one journey they cannot buy their way out of. The moment the bell tolls for thee.

And honestly, the thought brings me peace.

Trumo and Elon AREN'T demons - though it's so easy to think of them as so.

They are evil humans. And all humans die. Trump? He's 80. He's over three times my age. He's older than my grandmother. He eats McDonald's and Diet Coke like no one's business. Knock on wood I'm betting he's got ten years TOPS.

('I'll be the last president' - my ass. If you take a bad fall it's game over dude. You won't release your health records cause you're most likely due for a heart attack soon mfer. Your minions don't like your candy ass Junior enough to have him as a successor and Baron doesn't fucking care so realistically speaking whats your game plan here? 🤨 Elon's kids have too many daddy issues to take your place. You can't even use a sword. Napoleon would slay you where you fucking stand you pansy)

So if you've been struggling this week, I just wanted to remind you.

Black people won our civil rights without the support from the media, without online social networks, without the support from 90% of white people.

70 years ago, around when my grandma was born - I could not sit next a white person in school. If a white man was walking towards me on the street, I'd have to step into the gutter and let him pass. At risk of being actually killed by the whole town if not.

Nowadays in my city I could tell a white guy my age 'Fuck you!!' to your face. Middle finger and all. And they're not gonna put me in jail for it. No stranger is gonna jump in. The whole town isn't gonna care. If anything, people will just record.

That all happened in ONE generation.

So no matter what Trump does.

Remember. He's not immortal. He will die like we all do.

You're young. You'll have the rest of your life to reverse everything he's done.

That's the thing about personality cults. Once the personality is removed, the whole thing falls apart. And the personality in question is once again - an 80 year old who eats Big Macs and wears suits two sizes too large. A man who would probably get genuinely upset if you asked him to recite his 8 times tables.

If Trump dies in the next 10-20 years, before he turns 100, I'll be 35-45. a.k.a - my generation will be entering the older majority. Our generation will be the eldest and the most influencial. What then?

The Trumpettes won't have their leader for their personality cult so they'll have no one - not even their republican parents - to tell them who to think.

We'll be older, wiser. We'll teach our kids the signs. We'll tell them stories what to do, and invest pubic funds to conserve the history of our fight - to never be erased.

If you're scared this week, I understand.

But remember. We've fought harder with less - and we still won.

So keep your head up. Doom is the tool of the enemy. You keep going, you keep living, and you survive to tear down their legacy while the bastard spins in his grave.

Keep going. Keep your angry hearts and clenched fists. Hold on tight to your love and rage. And keep going.

That's what Hobie would want. That's what a Hobie is there to teach us.

Hope this helped someone, anyone, even if it was a little bit. If this helps you get through the day, or the next hour, with the smallest bit of hope - that's all I want.

Thanks for reading this far! Here's Hobie :)

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

And bonus:

Ayo I just gotta add this in here -

Word to god, and when I say this I say this with my whole chest -

I'd be DAMNED before I ever say I'm scared of Donald Trump.

First of all, I'm black and poor. There's been a white man wanting me dead since the moment I left my Mama's hoohaa and guess what, I'm still here. That mfer ain't special. Call me when the klansmen come not when done mfers with tiki torches cosplay call of duty.

Cause none of them coming to the hood..tf.. Try that shit in neighborhood with Bloods and Crips.. Y'all not the only ones with automatics and lots of money. It's just the black people with money and automatics keep shit quiet. If these racist mfers had ppl breaking in they house the way Kendrick had mfers breaking in Drake's with choppers they'd be terrified as fuuuckkk

And secondly there's 4chan fellas out there that probably legit jack off to the idea of a black queer trans person crying in fear. And those mfers can kiss my black ass and kick rocks cause I wake up every day smiling. So -

Anyway I'm done lol

I just had to get this out of my system lol. OKAY BYE FOR REAL

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless: Smitten

Jeongin x fem!reader

Warning: unhinged group chat as always, other than that, nothing!

Genre: friends to lovers, fluffffff

Summary: You and Jeongin go to the same MMA class, and he is absolutely smitten by you. And you two are good friends too. The problem? You treat him like a child, when all he wants is to ask you out. And that's where his unhinged gang enters.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Jeongin wiped the sweat off his brow, giving his opponent a nod after their sparring session, and turned around to see you pulling on your gloves. Your ponytail swayed as you hummed a tune to yourself, and Jeongin swallowed hard.

He did his best to control his impulses (such as the one he had right now to to come over and kiss the hell out of you).

But he was not weak (mostly). He was Yang Jeongin, the future ace of this gym and your soon-to-be love interest - if only he could figure out how to get you to stop patting his head like he's some cute puppy.

“Hey, Innie!” you called out, flashing him a smile that made his knees weak. “Good job!”

He smiled and thanked you, as you came over, and did that one thing that made him want to scream into oblivion. You ruffled his hair with that adoring smile on your face. And it made him feel like a toddler.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Jeongin let out a groan and grabbed his phone. He knew what this would lead to. Obviously. But he needed his brothers.

---

Jeongin: Ok. I'm gonna cry.

Chan: Aren't you at class??

Jeongin: She did it again.

Jeongin: She ruffled my hair. AGAIN.

Hyunjin: LOLLLLLLL

Jeongin: Shut up. I’m serious.

Felix: Omg. Is this the MMA girl?

Jeongin: YES. I can't understand why she treats me like a damn child.

Minho: Because you act like one?

Jeongin: YAH. I need a plan to make her see me as a MAN.

Jisung: Bro, just spar with her and like…accidentally tear your shirt or something. Girls love muscles.

Hyunjin: You do not have the muscles for that to work.

Jeongin: HYUNJIN.

Hyunjin: I’m just saying 🤷‍♂️

Felix: Invite her to dinner! Like, after practice? Nothing says “boyfriend material” like a home-cooked meal.

Seungmin: Cooking takes time. Which he doesn't have. He’s so obviously in the friend zone. He needs something that works fast.

Chan: You’re all missing the point here. Jeongin, be honest. Do you flirt with her?

Jeongin: I TRIED.

Jeongin: I told her she looked good in her gloves once. She said thanks and told me where to buy the same pair.

Minho: Wow. That’s rough.

Hyunjin: Okay, new idea.

Hyunjin: Go alpha on her. Next time you spar, pin her down. Like real close. Look her in the eyes and growl something like, “You’re not getting away from me this time.”

---

Jeongin rolled his eyes. Here we go.

---

Jeongin: That's crazy.

Jisung: No, wait, Hyunjin’s onto something. Girls LOVE dominance.

Chan: Or, you know, you could try talking to her like an adult.

Jeongin: I’m trying, hyung, but every time I look at her, my brain short-circuits.

Felix: Omg wait. This is perfect. You could do the classic “let me fix your form” move.

Felix: Stand behind her, adjust her stance, hands on her hips. It’s foolproof.

Seungmin: It’s not foolproof. He’ll trip over his words and fall on his face.

Jeongin: Oh my God.

Changbin: No, no, I’ve got it. Show up outside her place with some flowers and confess.

Hyunjin: Or better yet, let’s sign you up for a fight. Invite her to watch. Show her you’re tough.

Minho: He’ll get punched once and she’ll call an ambulance.

Jeongin: WHY DO I EVEN ASK YOU PEOPLE.

The next morning, Jeongin walked into the gym with a nervous buzz, the ideas his brothers had fired at him the night before poking at his brain.

Jisung: Bro. Let me paint you a picture.

Jisung: You’re sparring. She throws a punch. You dodge.

Jisung: Grab her wrist, pull her in close, whisper, “Is that all you’ve got?” Then SMIRK.

Jeongin: Why would I smirk???

Jisung: Because it’s HOT.

Minho: Creepy. Definitely creepy.

Hyunjin: No, he needs to go bolder.

Hyunjin: After sparring, pin her against the wall in the locker room. Close the space, and say, “You drive me insane, you know that?”

Chan: Please do NOT harass her in the locker room.

Felix: Yeah, don’t listen to Hyunjin. What you should do is compliment her strength. Like, “Wow, you’re so strong and gorgeous.”

Seungmin: That’s so cringey. She’ll laugh in his face.

Felix: Okay, why don't you come up with some genius ideas then?!

Changbin: No, listen to me. Women love confidence. Next time you walk in, wink at her. Just a subtle one. She’ll notice.

Jeongin: If I wink at her, she’ll think I have something in my eye.

Jisung: Then STARE at her. Give her those bedroom eyes.

Jeongin: I don’t even know what that means.

Hyunjin: Oh my god. This is so easy. After practice, challenge her to a one-on-one sparring match. Get sweaty. Let her feel your power. And if you win, you say, “Winner gets a kiss.”

Chan: She’ll knock him out first.

Minho: Honestly, I’d pay to see that.

Jeongin: I will block you all.

Hyunjin: NO YOU WON’T. You love us.

---

Jeongin was standing in the gym’s parking lot after his class, trying to call Chan to come pick him up, when he saw you approaching him. You were smiling, your bag on your shoulder, your hair, that's usually in a ponytail, now left open.

“Hey, Jeongin,” you said, your voice light and teasing as usual. “Nice work today. You’re really improving.”

He stuttered a thank you, and smiled at you nervously, his cheeks heating up.

And then it happened.

You reached out, ruffled his hair affectionately, and grinned. “Such a good boy.”

Jeongin froze. His brain short-circuited. Good boy?!

He could literally hear his brothers screaming in his head.

“Say something,” Minho’s voice mocked.

“Pin her!” Hyunjin roared.

“WINK, YOU COWARD!” Jisung howled.

Instead, Jeongin stood there like a statue.

“Innie?” you tilted your head, eyes soft with concern. “You okay?”

That snapped him out of it.

“Y-yeah! Totally fine!” He cleared his throat. This was it. This was his chance to say something smooth.

“Uh…you’re…really so strong and…so gorgeous?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he wanted to die.

You blinked at him. And then, to his utter shock, you laughed - a bright, genuine laugh that made his heart do a somersault.

“Well, thanks, Innie. You’re not so bad yourself.”

As you waved goodbye and walked off, Jeongin leaned against a car, face in his hands.

---

Jeongin: I HATE YOU ALL.

Chan: Ok calm down. What happened?

Jeongin: I TRIED FELIX’S LINE.

Jeongin: SHE LAUGHED AT ME.

Felix: Wait, was it a good laugh or a bad laugh?

Jeongin: HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!

Hyunjin: LOL

Changbin: Did you at least wink?

Jeongin: NO.

Jisung: Bro. Amateur move.

Seungmin: Probably should’ve gone with the “winner gets a kiss” idea.

Jeongin: I’M NOT DOING THAT.

Minho: You’re hopeless.

Chan: Guys, come on. Jeongin, did she seem like she was into it?

Jeongin: She called me a ‘good boy’.

Hyunjin: RIP.

Felix: Don’t give up! She laughed. That’s good!

Minho: Yeah, she’s laughing because she thinks he’s a puppy.

Felix: Puppies can grow into wolves, bro.

Jeongin: You’re all insane.

Changbin: Hey, wolves mate for life. Just saying.

Jeongin groaned, shutting his phone. If this was the kind of help he was getting, he might as well wing it.

Jeongin lay sprawled on his bed, phone in hand, mind racing with thoughts of you. He had officially entered what Jisung would call his ‘simp phase’. Your Instagram page was open, each photo worse than the last - worse because it made him fall harder.

There was one of you holding a tray of cookies, grinning. Another of you proudly presenting a painting up to the camera. The cat one nearly killed him - you were snuggled up with your orange tabby, its paw on your nose as you laughed.

And there was one with the MMA team - you had your arm looped with his in this one, your head tilted slightly towards him. It was a group photo, but that's all he could see. the two of you.

“I love her,” he whispered to himself, then immediately groaned into his pillow. “Oh my god, I love her!!”

---

Jeongin: Guys.

Jeongin: I’m in love with her.

Chan: We know.

Hyunjin: Wait, did you just figure that out?

Jeongin: No, but it’s hitting me all over again. I’m looking at her Instagram.

Jisung: Omg, show us.

Jeongin: No way.

Minho: Wow. Stalking her Insta and gatekeeping? Bold of you.

Jeongin: Shut up. She’s perfect. She bakes. She paints. She loves cats.

Minho: Cats? Suddenly she's a lot more interesting.

Jisung: Innie, DM her something flirty.

Jeongin: That’s so cringey I might die.

Chan: You guys are going to ruin his life.

Hyunjin: He needs to grow a spine. Just do it, Jeongin. Be bold.

Felix: OR…

Felix: Next time she posts something cute, comment something sweet. Like, “You’re so talented.” Compliment her! Girls love compliments.

Seungmin: That’s decent advice.

Jeongin: I can’t do that. She’ll think I’m obsessed.

Minho: You are obsessed.

Jisung: Or… Post a thirst trap. Let her know you’re hot too.

Jeongin: A thirst trap?! Like what?

Jisung: I dunno. Shirtless mirror selfie? Women eat that up.

Changbin: You don’t have enough abs for that.

Jeongin: I DO! STOP ATTACKING ME.

---

The boys were no help, as usual. Jeongin flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He was doomed.

But then, as he refreshed your page, he saw it - a new post.

It was you and your cat again, this time with a caption that read: "My goodest boy 🐾."

Jeongin stared at it. Good boy. Again. The word that haunted his every waking moment. And yet, when you used it like this, he kind of wanted to melt.

He felt his thumb hovering over the like button. His mind raced.

“Cute cat!” No, too boring.

“You’re adorable.” No, too forward.

“Can I be your good boy?” Oh god, Hyunjin was invading his thoughts.

He slapped his phone face-down on the bed.

He couldn’t DM you. He couldn’t comment. What he needed was a real plan to show you he wasn’t just the kid you patted on the head.

---

Hyunjin: New plan. Jeongin, buy her flowers. Deliver them to her home.

Jeongin: That’s not the worst idea.

Jisung: But make it sexy. Like, walk in all sexy and say, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I had to bring you these.”

Jeongin: YOU WANT ME TO DIE.

Felix: Wait! What if you bake her something? She likes baking, right? It’s cute and romantic.

Jeongin: I don’t know how to bake.

Chan: That’s what YouTube is for.

Minho: Or Felix can bake and you can pretend you made it.

Changbin: No way, she’d see through that in a second. She’s too smart for Jeongin’s terrible acting.

Hyunjin: He could dedicate a fight to her.

Hyunjin: Win a match and shout, “That was for you, baby!” She’ll love it.

Seungmin: Or hate it.

Jeongin: WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS.

Chan: Please don’t listen to him.

Jeongin: Oh my god, my life 😩

Felix: 😅😅😅

Hyunjin: Look, Jeongin, at the end of the day, just be confident. If you act like a man, she’ll treat you like one.

Jeongin: Easy for you to say. You’re not in love with her.

---

Jeongin tossed his phone aside, heart pounding. He didn’t know what his next move would be, but one thing was certain: he was in too deep to back out now.

The gym that usually buzzed with activity was so quiet now. Jeongin stood across from you in the sparring ring, his gloves up, his nerves barely contained. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this.

Sparring with you? His brain was already a mess when you just existed near him. But now, you were in front of him, bouncing lightly on your feet, your focused expression somehow making you look even more stunning.

“Ready, champ?” you teased, your grin playful as you adjusted your gloves.

Jeongin swallowed hard, trying to focus. “Yeah. Ready.”

With a wink, you moved quickly as you circled him. Jeongin mirrored you, trying to keep his stance solid.

It was going fine. Really good actually. You were good with your arms, and he tried to return the pressure, throwing a one-two combo at you. You dodged effortlessly, and then out of nowhere, you hooked your leg behind his, pivoting your hips to execute a perfectly timed trip.

Jeongin yelped as his balance gave out, and suddenly he was on the mat, his back hitting the ground with a loud thud.

“Nice match,” you said, already kneeling over him, one hand braced on the mat beside his head. You leaned over slightly, your face hovering above his. “You okay?”

Jeongin glitched in real time.

It was all too much - your bright eyes, your playful smile, the way a few strands of your hair stuck to your forehead, glistening with sweat. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and the concern in your voice made his heart stutter.

“I…uh…yeah,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You tilted your head and asked, “You sure? I hope nothing hurts?”

“Pretty sure I’m dying,” he muttered, half under his breath, closing his eyes and exhaling loudly.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” he squeaked, his face burning red.

You laughed softly, leaning back to give him space and extending your hand to help him sit up.

“You did well, Innie. Just gotta work on your balance.”

“Yeah,” he said dumbly, staring up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

You tapped his cheek lightly with your gloved hand. “C’mon, champ. Let’s get you up.”

---

Jeongin: I’m never sparring with her again. Ever.

Hyunjin: What happened?

Jisung: Spill.

Jeongin: She KNOCKED ME DOWN.

Felix: Oh nooooo.

Jeongin: And instead of just walking away and letting me die with dignity, she kneels over me.

Hyunjin: Oh, that sounds spicy.

Jeongin: SPICY?! IT WASN’T SPICY. IT WAS HUMILIATING. She hovered over me with her PERFECT FACE and eyelashes and asked if I was okay. Like I’m some helpless little kitten she rescued from a tree.

Felix: Awwww. That’s so cute!

Jeongin: IT’S NOT CUTE, FELIX. IT’S A CRIME AGAINST MY MASCULINITY.

Seungmin: What masculinity?

Jeongin: SEUNGMIN, I SWEAR.

Minho: You’re spiraling again.

Jeongin: I could smell her shampoo. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

Hyunjin: Uh huh

Felix: She thinks you’re cute AND talented.

Jeongin: I WANT HER TO THINK I’M HOT.

Minho: Maybe try not to land on your ass next time.

Jeongin: Wow, great advice, hyung. I feel so much better.

Hyunjin: Bro. She’s into you.

Jeongin: SHE IS NOT.

Changbin: I mean… isn’t that kind of symbolic? Like, you’re already floored by her?

---

If the locker room was soundproof, Jeongin would've screamed so loud.

---

Jisung: Okay, okay, so she thinks you’re adorable. And a child.

Jisung: But if only she knew that you're basically ready to give her a child

Felix: OMG. Jisung, no.

Jeongin: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!

Jisung: Am I wrong? Didn’t you literally say the other day, you'd do anything for her, even give her your last name and your firstborn child?

Jeongin: THAT WAS A PRIVATE THOUGHT, YOU GREMLIN.

Chan: What the actual fuck is going on in here?

Jisung: Oh, perfect timing, Chan-hyung! Any tips on the said topic? Since you've already done it.

Chan: Jisung. Please.

Felix: 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Hyunjin: This is so out of control, and for once it's not me 🤣

Jeongin: EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU IS THE WORST.

Chan: Jeongin. Does she actually think you’re a child, or are you projecting because you’re too scared to confess?

Jeongin: I don’t know.

Changbin: Oh, he knows.

Minho: 100% projecting.

Jeongin: I somehow feel like every time she looks at me she sees a ‘cute little brother type’

Hyunjin: Then you need to show her you’re not a little brother type.

Felix: Exactly! Be confident. Flirt back. Stop acting like she’s going to break you.

Jeongin: She already DOES break me!

Hyunjin: BRO. MAN UP. Or I swear I’ll walk up to her and tell her everything.

Jeongin: IF YOU DO THAT, I WILL END YOU.

Chan: Okay, enough. Stop overthinking it. Just talk to her, show her your genuine self.

Jeongin: But what if I mess up again?

Seungmin: You’ve been messing up this whole time, and she still likes you. You’re fine.

Hyunjin: True. She probably thinks your flustered baby deer energy is charming.

Jeongin: Oh my God

Jeongin thought he could pull it off. He thought he could just quietly distance himself from you without anyone noticing. After all, it was for the greater good. If he didn’t interact with you, maybe he could convince himself he didn’t feel anything.

But it didn’t take long for the cracks to show.

He started avoiding eye contact at the gym. No more conversations after practice. He skipped group water breaks and focused on solo drills. He even fled the gym the minute his class was done.

And you noticed. Of course you did.

Because he was literally the highlight of your day. Jeongin was a clueless idiot, because he definitely couldn't see how much you adored him, and this distance was getting to you.

---

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed as you watched Jeongin avoid your gaze for the fifth time that day. Normally, he’d flash you his shy smile or wave when you caught him looking. Now? He was all formal, barely sparing you a glance.

Something was definitely up. You waited patiently for him to come to the locker room. And of course he took the long route just to drag it out.

You huffed in annoyance before calling out, “Jeongin!”

He froze, his water bottle hovering close to his lips as he turned toward you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh. Uh, hey, Y/N.”

You tilted your head, scrutinizing him as you asked, “Are you okay? You’ve been weird lately.”

“Weird?” he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I’m just… focused on training. That’s all.”

“Focused on training?” You raised an eyebrow. “Ok, so ignoring me is part of that?”

“No! I am not-” His ears turned red as he shook his head no.

You stepped closer, lowering your voice and asked, “Did I do something? Are you upset about the spar-”

“No!” he interrupted, eyes wide. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

You blinked. He did not just say that.

“Did you just hit me with the breakup line?”

Jeongin looked like he wanted to crawl under the mat.

“I…uh…I have to go.” He practically sprinted to the locker room, leaving you standing there, more confused than ever.

---

Jeongin: Guys. I fucked up.

Felix: WHAT DID YOU DO.

Jeongin: She asked if she upset me, and I panicked.

Hyunjin: Wait.

Hyunjin: You did not tell her it’s not her, it’s you.

Jeongin: HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT.

Changbin: OH MY GOD.

Jisung: LMAO. DID YOU REALLY?

Jeongin: I panicked!

Minho: This is officially the funniest thing you’ve ever done.

Chan: Okay, let’s not bully him.

Chan: Jeongin, why are you avoiding her?

Jeongin: Because I don’t want to make things worse. She already treats me like a kid. If I keep acting like an idiot around her, she’s never going to take me seriously.

Seungmin: Avoiding her isn’t going to make her take you seriously either. It’s just going to make her think you’re mad at her.

Jeongin: But what if I do something stupid?

Hyunjin: Bro. You already did the stupid thing. The bar’s on the floor.

Felix: Seriously, just TALK to her.

Jeongin: You say that like it’s easy.

Jisung: Because it is easy. Walk up to her, say, “I think you’re amazing and also I have a huge crush on you. Wanna kiss?” Done.

Jeongin: I’d rather eat a dumbbell.

Minho: Please do.

Felix: Okay, but seriously, Jeongin, if you don’t fix this, she’s going to think you hate her.

Chan: And it's gonna hurt you more than it hurts her. Or whatever.

Jeongin: Fine. I’ll talk to her. But if I embarrass myself, I’m never speaking to any of you again.

Minho: Can’t wait.

---

The next day, you were warming up when Jeongin approached you hesitantly. You glanced up, surprised.

“Oh, look who finally decided to stop ghosting me.” you said, and it broke his heart to see that you weren't giving him your usual smile.

He winced as he said, “I wasn’t ghosting you.”

“Sure felt like it.” You said, crossing your arms. “So what’s going on? And don’t give me the ‘training focus’ excuse again.”

Jeongin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been… overthinking some stuff.”

“Stuff?” You tilted your head, waiting for him to elaborate.

“You,” he blurted out, then immediately regretted it.

“Me?”

“Yes. I mean -” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Look, Y/N. You’re amazing, okay? You’re smart and funny and strong, and you make me feel like an idiot half the time because I don’t know how to act normal around you.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Jeongin -”

“I like you,” he interrupted, words tumbling out in a rush. “A lot. And I know you probably think I’m just some kid, but I’ve been trying so hard to prove I’m not. And it’s probably really obvious now, and I’m sorry if I’ve been weird or -”

“Jeongin.” You stepped closer, cutting him off.

“Sorry.” He looked at you, panic written all over his face.

But you smiled, your heart softening. He was so damn adorable, you wanted to bite him. To say the least.

“You don’t have to prove anything. I never thought of you as just some kid.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. And for the record…” You reached out, ruffling his hair with a grin. “I like you too, Innie.”

Jeongin covered his face with his hands, whining, but he couldn’t stop the huge grin that spread across his face.

"C'mere you," you said, and Jeongin surged into your arms, letting you hug him tight.

---

Jeongin: SHE LIKES ME BACK. OMG. I'M HYPERVENTILATING.

Hyunjin: NO WAY.

Felix: OMG!!! YESS!!!

Jisung: What did you say? How did it happen? Give us details!

Jeongin: I just told her I like her. She said she likes me too.

Chan: See? Told you honesty works.

Hyunjin: So when’s the wedding?

Minho: Well, that's what you get for being such a good boy.

Jeongin: OH MY GOD.

Seungmin: Congrats bro

Changbin: Go celebrate. Go get outta here!

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan

[the-court-of-dreams]

ONYX STORM SPOILERS

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Quotes that KILLED ME in Onyx Storm

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1)

To the ones who don’t run with the popular crowd, the ones who get caught reading under their desks, the ones who feel like they never get invited, included, or represented. Get your leathers. We have dragons to ride.

Books have always been a safe place for me. I still remember picking up The Hobbit when I was still a kid, closing my bedroom door and going on an adventure. I'm almost 25 now and I still love going on adventures. From magic schools to institutes, hidden cities to castles, forests to enormous capitals. With cars and ships and horses and broomsticks and dragons. Every story, a new adventure. Every book, a new journey. Oh, how I love travelling!

I only ever had one friend who loves reading as much as I do and our conversations about books, the hours we spend making theories, and analysing everything that happened... they are some of my most beloved moments. ( @strovilos , you are the joy of my life) My other friends don't understand as much, it's okay. I' ve always been the kid hiding books under my desk, staying up past my bedtime with a light under the covers. So yeah... that dedication really got me.

I was invited to places, but I almost never felt included while being there. That was okay too.

I always preferred riding dragons anyway.

2)

Xaden is mine. My heart, my soul, my everything. He channeled from the earth to save me, and I’ll scour the world until I find a way to save him right back.

Wow, that didn't take long at all, huh? Straight in the fucking feels.

3)

I could reach the rank of Maven, lead armies of dark wielders against everyone we care for, and watch every vein in my body turn red as I channel all the power in the Continent, and I would still love you. What I did doesn’t change that. I’m not sure anything can.

Such a good start for me and my fucking heart. Thanks, Rebecca... I really appreciate it.

4)

If I’m to be court-martialed for helping Braxtyn defend his people, then I shall welcome the trial. All who channel from dragon and gryphon alike should flourish under the wards, and now Aretia will be that haven should one of the others ever return.

Lyra... I fucking stan!

5)

So with all the love in my heart, put your fucking uniform on, because we need you.

Look, I'm not saying that Ridoc is my favourite character in this book... but... Ridoc IS my favourite character in this book.

I died with the whole squad dynamic, but the four of them will always hold a special place in my heart, I fucking love these kids.

6)

Even hundreds of miles away, he’s still taking care of me and doesn’t even know it.

I KNEW this godsdamned book would be full of angst....BUT DID IT HAVE TO BE ALL OF IT??? DID IT REBECCA????

7)

You might be angry when you realize I didn’t wake you to say goodbye. But it’s only because I no longer fully trust my ability to walk away.

—Recovered Correspondence of His Grace, Lieutenant Xaden Riorson, Sixteenth Duke of Tyrrendor, to Cadet Violet Sorrengail

FUCK ME MAN....Come on...WHYYYYYYY????

8)

But the thought of you being out there, beyond the wards, facing down a known attack of venin, triggered something in me I’ve never felt before. It was hotter than rage, and sharper than fear, and cut deeper than helplessness, all because I couldn’t get to you.

Fuck you.

9)

I would have killed anything and anyone in that moment to reach you. No exceptions. I would have channeled every ounce of power beneath my feet without hesitation if it would have landed me at your side.

Double fuck you.

10)

If I’d been there, beyond the wards, I would have drained the very earth to its core to keep you safe.

TRIPLE FUCKING FUCK YOU!!!!

11)

Pain isn’t new to me, Jack. She’s an old friend I spend most of my days with, so I don’t mind if she sings to you.

Violet Sorrengail... you are the most badass bitch to ever badass. (I feel like that's SUCH a Remi thing to say. Fucking finally.... iykyk. Shout out to @skyfallscotland for writing fucking masterpieces. Getting notifications from you always makes my day. If any of you are into fanfcition, i STRONGLY recommend reading everything this girl has written. You can start with Fear and Flame. Thank me, and HER, later.)

12)

“We live by the Codex—” I try again.

“I live by you. When have I ever given a fuck about the Codex or the Code of Conduct?” He cradles my face and leans down, resting his forehead against mine. “I am yours and you are mine, and there’s no law or rule in this world or the next that will change that.”

I love them so much it hurts.

13)

Love of my life. You have nothing to be jealous of.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

14)

“There’s no magic here.” He tugs me against him. “No power. No lure. No taunting reminder that I can save everyone if I just reach for it and take what’s offered. It’s only…peace.”

For the first time since fetching the luminary, I seriously debate Tecarus’s offer.

When I tell you this book was PAINFUL for me....I'M NOT FUCKING KIDDING.

15)

"...Sgaeyl…" He glances up at the trees as if he can see her in the sky above us, a look of longing on his face.

If I had a dollar for everytime this book broke my fucking heart.

16)

“My consort,” Xaden replies casually. “Violet Sorrengail.”

I'm deceased.

17)

I can’t quit watching Xaden’s eyes in case their flecks change back to gold whenever I see him during Signet Sparring.

They never do.

Like my heart will never again NOT be broken for these two.

18)

“The pain. The mess. Give it to me. I’ll hold it. I know that sounds ludicrous, but I’ll find a way.” I lace our fingers. “I will hold everything you don’t want to feel because I love every part of you.”

This ship... this fucking ship...

19)

“Seems Catriona has found someone worth lagging behind for.”

I loathed her in the previous book....but gods did the poor girl go through it in this one....

20)

“There is no cure for me.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “That’s why you have to become better than me. There’s only you.”

I seriously don't know why I'm putting myself through this torture.

21)

When things get…shitty, I hope you can look down at it and imagine us sitting there together when this is all over. That’s the vision I’m going to cling to: you and me, holding hands, looking over the city.

This right here broke whatever soul I thought I had left. It just hurts so much when the characters cling to a future that I fucking know isn't going to happen.

22)

It’s almost like this room is removed from time itself, a tiny corner of the world where we simultaneously live together yet don’t.

Rebecca literally...WHYYYYY????

23)

I didn’t reach for any form of power because even in that state, I knew it could take me back to day zero, and day zero doesn’t give me you. I clawed my way back to myself and left.

Screaming, crying, throwing up.

24)

While most deities allow temple attendants to choose their timeline of service, only two require a lifetime of dedication: Dunne and Loial. For both war and love change souls irrevocably.

For the love of Gods, please let this be some kind of clue.

25)

I love you more than this city. Do not die defending it.

Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.

26)

At some point I’ll stop looking for her, right?

I KNOW Andarna had her reasons... but my girl Violet did not deserve that after everything she's been through.

27)

His smile instantly becomes a core memory.

MY smile instantly becomes a core memory....as in I don't think I'll have one again.

28)

You’re not a weapon of destruction. You’re not venin. You’re the artery power chooses to flow through. You’re life.

I fucking ship this SO MUCH. I love me some enemies to lovers, slow burn, full of angst shit.

29)

When push comes to shove, I'm not the best of us. She is.

YES VIOLET, THAT'S YOUR BESTIE!!!!!!

30)

“That’s a little menacing,” I admit to Feirge. “Then let us be menaces,”

I ADORE multiple povs. I've been waiting for Rhi's and Imogen's pov for 3 books, and I was NOT disappointed. Wish I could have more of them though.

31)

She’ll rip the very sky apart before she and Glane accept defeat.

GO IMOGEN! GO! GO! GO!

32)

The flame of perpetual rage that lives in my chest burns hotter. Fuck that horde. Fuck the venin who ride them. Fuck that unholy vortex of a tornado at the end of the northern field, and fuck the orders to stay grounded in these winds.

FUCK! I love this girl so damn much.

33)

I’m glad it’s you with me. Parapet to Malek’s own doorstep. I’m so sorry I have to go first this time.

To be honest, I didn't really care about Quinn for three books now... but I SOBBED in these 3 pages.

34)

And you should tell him, Gen. Tell him, and you find some happy.

And the fact that she preached for my second favourite ship of the series with her dying breath??? Miss Quinn, you have my heart. I didn't care for your existence for three books, but man, did you get me in the end.

35)

“We made it a good one.”

This one cut me so fuckign deep I had to stop for a good ten minutes. I did not see it coming. I did not think I'd care. I still don't understand why I did. But I really, really did.

36)

“I’m not leaving you!” He leans in and slides his hand behind my neck. “I’m not leaving you, Imogen,” he repeats, softer this time.

If these two don't end up together, I'm gonna make it everybody's problem. I PROMISE!

37)

“You have been the gift of my life,” I tell Tairn.

I've read some theories that Tairn will die in the end... First of all...HOW DARE YOU? And second of all... REBECCA DON'T YOU DARE, I WILL-

38)

She was the first to choose me, to elevate me above all others, the first to see every ugly side of me and accept it all, and every single person in this fucking canyon will die before they remove a single one of her scales.

The fact that Xaden channeled for Violet but really turned to save Sgaeyl... I did not expect that. And although it was painful as fuck to read through... to me it was perfect and a job really well done.

39)

Shadow brings quiet. My soul departs like pieces of ash from a fire, flaking free and drifting away as power consumes the space it once inhabited. I’m no longer on the ice—I am the ice.

Xaden...baby...no....

40)

Save them, the last remaining pieces of me beg, holding on with teeth and claw to keep from being torn away, too.

I will never... ever... recover from this.

41)

“I love you.” Violet’s voice cracks the cold, and a silken thread of warmth wedges itself in the opening before it seals shut, locking it in place.

No. Wait. I grab for that thread with desperate hands, clawing to keep her as more of my pieces are blown away, lost to the void. She is warmth and light and air and love.

This was so fucking painful to read I literally have no fucking words.

44)

I love her. That is the emotion I cling to, the fire of pure power burning at the feeling’s edges, and I know if I take it any further, it will be the next and final piece to float away.

😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔

45)

“What did you do?” My head snaps toward Imogen, and a deep sense of foreboding takes root in my chest. She slowly lifts her gaze to mine.

“What you asked me to.”

How THE FUCK am I supposed to wait who-knows how long for the next damned book???

All in all, I really enjoyed this. I never got bored and I didn't mind the side missions at all.

The xaden×violet of it all shattered my heart. I definitely loved their relationship more than the previous books (It really reminded me of their dynamic from one of the best pieces of literature I've ever had the pleasure to read, a fanfiction piece called Storm in the quiet by @justallihere. She is truly the best.).

I just knew this was coming, and all of their trying would lead to this... it tore my heart apart. I love heavy angst in my books, but it hurts like a motherfucker when you have to wait for the next book in a series. I've promised myself I would never start an unfinished series ever again but oh well....

I loved the side characters so much, and I feel like I got to see them more and get to know them better in this one.

Ridoc is the best comic relief character I've read in a long, long time, and I love him so much (I almost had a heart attack when I thought the cook actually stabbed him.)

Aaric is a little shit and I'm so here for it. His exceptionally well written character was one of the highlights of the book for me.

Imogen and Garrick are my babies and I want them to end up together SO FUCKING BAD.

Also, the Drake and Mira crumbs? Chef's kiss.

I have to admit I was very fed shipping wise.

Unexpectedly, I also laughed my ass off in this book... so I'll probably make another post with all the times I died of laughter. Who would have thought?

My soul will definitely need mending and a good dose of fanfiction to get me through the long wait. To the people who are gifted enough to write these fanfcitions, you are my heroes. Cheers!

Final thought, Xaden Riorson, THE MAN that you are.

Accurate image of me after finishing Onyx Storm: