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imwetforyourmom · 2 days

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GLISTENING UNDER THE STARS.

CW: Breaking up, mutually(?) wanted breaking up, sex for the last time, softdom!chris, romantic sex?, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (pleaseeee dont do this), crying during sex but we all know why 🫤, oral f!recieving, not much dirty talk, not really meant to make you horny but if it works ig it works!!

SUMMARY: You and Chris dont workout as good as you’d hoped for, and thats okay. But, just one last goodbye kiss, one for the road.

A/N: Drowning in a bath of my own tears

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"Can- could we spend, y’know.. one last night together?"

His unrelenting gaze laid upon you, it held the same similarity as a cold hand had rested on your shoulder, the frigid temperature seeping through the cotton of your shirt. The palm rubbing into your shoulder, in a comforting, assuring rub, as if to remind you, ‘you’re okay.’ Even when everything wasn’t okay. Like the world had come crashing, burning down before your very own eyes, the cause your very own hands - maybe even tongue in this situation.

What were you to do in this moment? The pure look in his eyes was enough to make you sick with guilt. How were you expected to speak, when the ball in your throat began to shape into a fist? The sick with you-don't-know-what being your most prime feeling, as if it was tearing your body apart, slitting it in half and moving to wriggle inside, replacing the blood coursing through your veins with that feeling. Changing the thrum of your heartbeat against your ribs to constantly remind you of the illness you felt. Each pump a sick, cruel manner as to give that dreaded reminder above your head, that this was all entirely your fault. Everything you felt was of your doing. What did you do?

The fist in your throat began relaxing, instead now clawing its way up your throat, reaching to the base of your tongue, where a sob slipped through. Why were you crying? You’re the one who’d suggested it, told him straight to his face.

“Chris, this isnt working out.” No sympathy lingering in the undertones of your voice, not even a spared, merciful glance towards his now shattered demeanor before speaking again,

“And I know you think the same Chris. Its so painfully obvious, you’re constantly out with your friends, never at home with me. You almost never speak to me enthusiastically,” you trailed off. Your sentence finishing off with a sigh, your head tilted upwards to meet his gaze. What you saw was no less than what you’d expected, but what you hadn't looked past, was the fact Chris had redeemed himself almost everytime after one of your listed incovencies, after hanging out with his friends all day, he’d always have brought you more than one gift back, and spent the night with you for as long as you wanted (or needed).

But, because the boy was so helplessly inlove with you, he’d agreed. Wanting you the best, completely leaving his own feelings in the trail of your footsteps. He’d told you he wasn't doing well in the relationship either, that he couldn't find contentment - or whatever bullshit excuse he could think of. But, what he didn't say, was how sick he felt whenever he thought of you anytime, his body full to the brim with love, and the butterflies flapping inside his stomach. He’d be happy, as long as you were happy. Whatever it takes, he’d told himself.

You felt his eyes heavy upon you, his lips twitching in a beg to twist his words together, ask for a simple favor, or, task in your hands.

“Can- could we spend, y’know.. one last night together?” He whispered, his voice only a crack away from collapsing entirely ontop of himself. His tears only relying to stay put on the dam he’d built inside his mind, his voice keeping what it could, together.

Your heart dulled in acceptance, the sick feeling running throughout your veins falling to a stop. If it’d help him relax throughout his unspoken words, then so be it.

You nodded, making no effort to form your lips to speak, instead you only stood from the bed, now holding all of your previous guilt. Your hand traveled to his body, running it gently along his chest to the nape of his neck, where you gently wrapped your fingers to twist the waved, shorter hair. Your eyes holding significant love inside them, Chris ignored it. You didnt love him.

His hands begin their journey to the rightful place on your body, wrapping his own palms on your waist, gently. His hands holding a silent, subtle passion behind them, like hands that have longed for their lover, they’ve waited for forever to rest upon this one person. You basked in it, enjoying it for the last time you probably ever would. Whose to tell the future?

You gently pulled his face closer to yours, interlocking your lips in a quiet, loving kiss. No movement being made, or even an effort to be made, just a simple, slow, loving kiss. All you’d need for now, there was no reason to bring it any further, to rush this already treasuring moment, what better than to just, slow down and let it go as it goes?

Your lips were the first to make a move, finally kissing with more passion, it felt right. It felt as if the moment had desired this, this was the way it was meant to go. Your hand gently squeezed as your lips grew along his with more passion, his tongue sliding inside the enclosure of your mouth.

His own hands slid further down your body, his fingertips tracing across till they found the desired plush of your ass. While his other hand held a hold on your lower back, pulling you closer into his embrace, closer to him.

With a slow begin, Chris guided your body to the bed behind you, the hand on your back serving as a quiet reminder that he’d catch you if you’d fallen. Your back met with the soft plush of your comforter, your back painfully easing, causing a soft moan to slip, which only served to intensify Chris’ desire, but he showed no movement to act on it.

Sliding his hand from underneath you, his hand rested on the cotton plush beside your head, while his other went to your hip, digging the tip of his finger through the fabric just enough to feel his caress teasing as it went further, and further down. Eventually falling to a stop once it’d connected to your inner thigh, mere inches away from your heat.

A soft, palpable whine of need escaped your throat, you reached down to grab his wrist, urge him to get closer, to fulfill your desires without a word spoken, but he stopped you. Shaking his head softly as he leant up to connect your lips in a soft kiss, his hands attached to the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling them down in an act to expand the moment, let it linger longer.

His fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties as well, bringing them along with your pants as he tugged them down, closer to fully off with each sound of your lips in the otherwise quiet atmosphere.

Eventually tugging them down your ankles, he de-attached almost immediately, the eagerness underlying his now quicker movements to move between your legs, his hands now moving to your inner thighs again, where he’d spread them wider. His eyes glued to your sex, watching as your wetness dripped to the blanket below you. His tongue licked over his teeth, his fingertips digging into the plush of your thighs.

“Y’look so pretty,” all f’me he murmured, swallowing down the words he wanted to say, all laced with possessiveness. With the guilt he felt pooling inside his stomach, he leaned forward, attaching his mouth to your clit at his own attempt at distracting himself from the overwhelming thought of you no longer being his.

A moan slid from the capture of your throat, already in a prep for bliss. God, you were gonna miss this, miss him- him and his, tongue..? That's what you wanted to tell yourself.

His grasped hands around your thighs squeezed tighter, already finding himself entranced within your heat. His tongue swirling around the bundle of nerves, sucking before sticking his tongue out to trail down to your opening, sliding his tongue into the hole, and back out, creating a rhythmic pace.

His tongue kept up with the pace, his eyes peering into yours as he watched you slowly begin to become out of it, your moans falling even smoother from your lips than before. Not a thought behind your eyes, only the way you felt. His tongue curled into what your face contorted into when he brought you pleasure, yet he’d rather have your body curled into his as he brought you the warmth he seeked. Pleasuring your body with the simple affection of a kiss to your cheek.

Your hips bucked into his face, nudging his nose to your clit in the process, spiking pleasure throughout your veins, the ache for more surging blended within. Your stomach seeped till it fell through an endless pit, either mixing with the underlying guilt, or the start of an orgasm. You weren’t sure.

His hands gripped around your thighs, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers and palms. His tongue moving in desperate acts of more, more, more and more. Perchance more of the unrequited love he wanted to be requited, but that wasn't fitting.

His tongue departed as his hand slid from your thigh, his thumb tracing tight circles on your clit as his ring and index finger slid inside your entrance, quickening his previous pace, sliding deeper against your soft walls, the pleasure ricocheting onto you.

His lips meshed with yours, your lingering taste slipping inside your mouth and dawning onto your taste buds. Yet the pleasure from your legs was bundling your head far too much to care for the luscious taste coating your mouth.

The previous knot — or, ‘endless pit’ fell snapped, a moan sliding off your tongue and whispered into Chris’ mouth, swallowing what was left of the efforted moan, yet it only bounced off the walls of only being needed of one thing.

His fingers retracted from your legs and moved to the buckle of his belt, retrieving it from its locked position, and sliding his throbbing dick from the tight enclosure of fabric. He continued the motions of pulling off his pants and boxers, his movements yearning, yet a coat of desperation blinded longing, leaving the yearning to be of what it was, yet tiny and unnoticable.

His lips never disattached from yours, even when he slid his length inside your entrance, but a striking, pleasurable pain overtook his lip once your teeth had bitten onto it at an attempt to soothe yourself, probably stabilization but all Chris could focus on was the squeeze of your walls bringing the pleasure he so badly seeked earlier. His cock almost begging with the leaking pre-cum.

With one last kiss, bathing in the warmth of your lips, he’d pulled away. His hands grabbing at your hips, groping at the flesh of your stomach, caressing the skin of your ribs as well as the skin below your boobs. His fingertips dancing along the skin left for his eyes, left for the moon to shine onto, casting an ethereal spell on your skin to reflect, let Chris deliver the satisfaction of being inevitably perfect.

His hips moved along with the rhythm of your moans, moving deeper whilst your moans grew louder and harder as your moans strained in the journey of your scratchy, used throat. Your eyes bathing in the tears of your pleasure. The sway of his hips meeting with yours urging the tears to produce, lay this last drop of mercy.

Despite the ache of how hard & deep he went, his movements were soft, cherishing in the bath of your body kneeling to his actions, taking in what it could get and giving back the pleasure he proclaimed. He wanted to soak in the soft hum of the tiny whimpers that failed to succeed from slipping your throat, he wanted to dry your tears with his lips - even if they weren’t from mental or physical pain. He wanted to be able to let the praises slide from his lips as easily as they used to, let each word bathe inside a pool of his possessiveness, reminding your conscious of just whom you’d ‘belonged’ to.

He wanted this one last given opportunity to be by your side, linger in the warmth of your being and skin to be memorable, not any other time you’d have sex, just, lacking the speech.

Your hand slithered to his bicep, squeezing hard, digging a crescent moon shape of your nails into his skin, your eyes closing as the returning feeling of an endless pit formed into your stomach. Perchance this time it wasn’t because of your orgasm. You could see the glint in Chris’ eyes, neither irises carrying a wash of lust inside them, rather, only a form of yearn and— longing. He longed and longed, for what you didn't know.

He was touching you, staring at you, embracing you, inside you for fucks sakes. What more did the man want? What more could a man ask for? Your body laid vulnerable in front of him, your flaws for his eyes, your insecurities lie for his hands to caress, yet he had done neither. Not a whisper of a praise sliding from his pretty pink lips.

Your hand slid to the nape of his neck, running your fingertips up his head, gripping at the loose curls, you pulled his face closer to yours, your lips a breath away from his.

You opened your eyes, meeting his in a long, tension full eye contact. Your face churned in pleasure when he thrusted especially hard in that moment, his cock slamming inside you, as his gaze didn't falter. A cocky smirk laid over his features, clearly enjoying the sight of you, the sounds you were making. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his gaze unrelenting, his lips moved to form the letters he was yet to pronounce.

His previous yearn drowned in his now lust filled irises, a grunt slipping past his lips before he muttered possessively, “C’mon pretty, be a little louder for me baby. Wanna hear your moans and whimpers.” His thrusts slowed with each word his spoke, a seemingly threat.

“Fuck Chris, please don’t slow down, faster, please.” You’d begged, your knees curling into your chest as the feel of his cock drove into your insides, ridding any of the guilt that remained.

Low and behold, the mustered strength provided to your lustful needs was rooted from the tightening in his throat and burning eyes. Each thrust was a way to take his mind off of what was to come after this, each syllable said was a beg of the peace he desired for such an intimate moment. He wanted, he so badly wanted to want to fuck into you, whisper his possesive lacen words into your neck, his re occuring hands keeping your under him as you pleaded for him. Yet, he just couldn't.

Instead, your body lie before him, the window allowing the moon to assure you as the most beautiful thing he’d ever lain his eyes on, sweat dripping down the creases of your body, a mesmerized expression etched on your face, you glistening under the stars as a guiltiful apology sat on the shine coating your body from the moon. Reflected onto your body as it slightly shook with the forces of his thrusts. Each sparkle dancing on your skin a haunting taunt for the body he no longer could love and adore. Only to watch as memories and need for more relentlessly took over his mind.

2578 words.

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bro-atz · 7 hours

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what we do to boys who are on the run

in which: you just so happened to kidnap the wrong man, and you chose the worst possible one to kidnap.

pair: mafia boss!mingi/afab!reader

word count: 6.6k

content: smut, angst (everybody gets mad at bro), mingi's got a gun!, mingi's also on the run oops, some depiction of violence, wounds and bullets and general injuries, domestic!mingi?, big dick!mingi agenda, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), creampie?, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: hold onto your hats this is going to be a long note— and the extremely sylus inspired brain rot continues! domestic sylus anyone? also inspired by the movie ittefaq (you gotta really squint to see it tho) ONE MORE THING this is my contribution to the @cultofdionysusnet summer event: see u on the flip side; and lastly, i'm making this a sylus inspired brain rot series (sorry not sorry) ENJOY special thanks to choy @skteezcursed @ja3hwa and @k-hotchoisan

what we do to boys series: san, mingi

You didn't mean for it to happen. You went to the airport to surprise your brother. Well, you were going to "kidnap him" since he didn't know you were going to be there, but what you didn't know was that he missed his flight, so he decided to cancel his trip. And it certainly was not your fault for mistaking the man with the sunglasses and face mask for your brother. However, it was definitely your fault for putting a pillowcase over his head and pulling him to your car so you could bring him back to your apartment.

When you sat the man down in your living room and unveiled him, you were mortified. Sitting on the couch was a man with sharp eyes, a sharp nose, and the most attractive lips you had ever seen in your entire life— also, he had a gigantic gash across his cheek. This guy was most definitely not your brother— so who the hell was he? More importantly, how and why the hell did he let himself get kidnapped by you when he easily could've gotten away from you with all those damn muscles? And most importantly, why the hell was he bleeding?

"What the fuck?! You're not my brother!" were the first words out of your mouth upon seeing the man.

Rubbing his temples, he looked up at you with a piercing glare, sending shivers down your spine. "You treat your brother like this? Damn, I feel for the guy."

Still completely shaken by the fact that you abducted a total stranger and brought him into your home, your fight or flight instincts kicked in, and unfortunately for you, your body chose fight. You grabbed the lamp next to the couch and held it in front of you awkwardly.

"W-Who are you?!"

"Definitely not your brother, that's for sure," the man chuckled dryly.

"Don't act smart with me!" you raised the lamp, threatening to break it over his head. "I-I'll use th— I'm not afraid to u-use this!"

The slight smirk on his face dropped when you weakly threatened him. Moving his jacket aside, he revealed a gun while saying calmly, "Princess, that's not a weapon. This is. Now, put down the lamp before you break a nail, alright?"

Your blood froze the second you saw the gun. Meekly, you obeyed him, praying that he wouldn't pull the gun out of his holster. He silently gestured for you to get on your knees and kneel before him, which you did. Leaning forward, he brought his face closer to yours.

"You're going to answer my questions first," he started, his low voice practically scaring you shitless. "Why'd you want to kidnap your brother?"

"I-It was supposed to be a prank... He didn't know I was coming to the airport..."

"Why didn't you think to check who I was first before deciding to kidnap me?"

"You were wearing the sunglasses and the mask— You looked like my brother from behind, so I just acted— I got confused," you rambled, your brain desperately trying to keep it together while you answered his question.

"I see," he nodded and leaned back. "And what about your brother?"

"Huh?"

"You said you were at the airport to kidnap your brother, right? Is he on his way?"

"I— I don't know," you stuttered.

"Call him. Find out," he nodded.

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket to see that you didn't have to call him— he texted you the entire saga on how he missed his flight and that he would not be visiting since the airplane tickets were too expensive.

"Well?" the man asked after several moments of silence passed.

"He's not coming..." you whispered, suddenly realizing that your chance at survival diminished significantly due to the fact that no one was going to come to your apartment.

"Good."

Good? Why good?!

"What do—"

"No, princess. I'm not done asking questions just yet," he interrupted you. "Where's your first aid kit?"

"I-In the bathroom..."

"Where is the bathroom?"

"Down the hall..."

The man stood up and immediately winced, his hand flying to his stomach to clench it. He took one step away from you, only to turn on his heel. He did the thing you feared he would do: he took his gun out of his holster. You were practically near tears seeing the gun so close to you.

"Take me there. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Nodding, you led him to the bathroom. He didn't touch you, but he forced you to enter the bathroom first, ensuring that you wouldn't be able to escape.

I kidnapped him, so why am I the one being held hostage?

He put his gun down on the sink and started looking through the cabinets for the first aid kit, but he was looking in all the wrong places, so you cleared your throat and asked, "Can I get it for you?"

He froze. He looked at you, then nodded once. You grabbed the first aid kit from where it was and set it down on the sink next to the gun. You considered using that chance to grab the gun and use it on him, but you didn't have the courage to do that— plus, you knew that you were somehow going to manage to shoot yourself in the process.

The man opened the box and grabbed a couple different things from the box— you couldn't tell what he grabbed because the lid of the box blocked your view— then started taking his jacket and shirt off. You immediately looked away, unsure of what to do at that moment. Sure, you could've looked at him warily since he was holding you hostage, but you also didn't want him biting your head off for looking at him while he did what he had to do.

As you pondered these questions, you heard him hiss in pain, immediately snapping your attention to him. You barely acknowledged how defined the muscles on his torso were before realizing he was cleaning a wound on his waist, instantly making you panic.

"You were stabbed?! You should go to the hospital!"

"I wasn't stabbed, I was grazed by a bullet," he replied while rolling his eyes. "And do you really think a guy like me should be in a hospital? I'll get arrested."

"Maybe for the gun, but if you're not a bad guy—"

"I would like to think that I am—" he interrupted you. "A bad guy."

"W-What do you mean...?"

"Oh, princess... You really should be careful next time you try to abduct someone..."

He set down the stuff from the kit and took a step towards you. Your back was pressing uncomfortably against the sink countertop as he pinned you in place, his face lowering to meet yours. Despite the fresh scar on his face and his general lack of warmth, you had to admit that he was kind of hot.

You felt your face flush with warmth, and you immediately avoided eye contact. The man stifled a snicker as he smirked. "You're cute, princess," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

He finally moved away from you to tend to his wound, letting you breathe. You kept your eyes on the ground, but your eyes would occasionally flit over to him to see what he was doing. He cleaned up the wound and was bandaging it when you glanced at him the seventh time. Surprisingly, he cleaned up after himself and closed the kit before putting it back where you got it out from. You kind of expected him to tell you to do that— but at this point, you didn't know what to expect.

"Come."

He held the gun in front of you again, and your nerves ran cold again. You left the bathroom first, the man following after you. You returned to the living room where he sat down on the couch with a grunt and you stood in front of him.

"So, since you kidnapped me," the man started, nearly making you roll your eyes at him. "I think it's only fair that you deal with the consequences and let me stay here a while."

"Huh?"

"I need a place to lay low. I was going to make other arrangements, but... I wouldn't mind staying in some princess's frilly little apartment."

You gritted your teeth and did your best to keep from yelling at him. After all, he could definitely kill you if you acted up.

"I suppose that makes sense," you bit out.

"Great then—"

"But! I have some conditions."

You watched the man's gaze harden. You held your breath as he leaned forward, his gun still in hand. You were terrified he was going to hold it up, but he didn't.

"Never interrupt me, princess," he said, his deep voice scaring the shit out of you.

"Sorry," you squeaked.

He leaned back into the couch. He set his gun next to him, and you let go of the breath you had been holding.

"What are these conditions of yours?"

"If you're going to stay here, then you need to answer some questions I have for you," you stipulated.

"Alright," he said with a massive sigh. "You get one question."

"Only one?"

"Is that the question you want to ask?"

"No! No," you shook your head. "Just— Hold on."

The man looked at you as you thought about all the questions you had for him. Truth be told, you didn't want to know anything about his injury or his gun because that was just a nightmare waiting to happen. Finally, you settled on your question.

"Why do you want to stay here?" you asked.

"I'm not going to tell you."

"Wait! Then, I want one more question since you technically didn't answer my last one," you countered.

"Fine."

"Can you at least tell me your name?"

"...Mingi."

The night after you kidnapped Mingi, you looked him up online, and while you did struggle a bit, you managed to find some articles about him and his gang. The more you uncovered about him, the more terrified you became of him. To think he used that gun to actually kill someone meant that he wasn't joking when he held the gun to your head— that thing was definitely loaded with real bullets.

You didn't know how long he was going to stay for, but when one of his underlings delivered a package— the biggest box you had ever seen— to your workplace, you figured he was going to be there for a while. You wanted to tell him off, but knowing that he hid his gun from you but could use it at any time made you keep your damn mouth shut.

Despite this home invader maximizing your anxiety, Mingi was surprisingly helpful and respectful, which only made you more wary of him.

Honestly, he was kind of like a dog if dogs had thumbs. You didn't have to worry if he would be gone when you left for work because he definitely made himself at home on your couch and promised you that he'd be waiting for you to get back— although, the first time he said it, it was more like a threat, like "if you don't come back home and try to tell the cops, I will kill you," type thing— but after that, it really was like walking home to a loyal dog. A loyal dog who would have dinner ready for you the second you got home.

"Hey, princess, you're home," Mingi greeted from the kitchen as soon as you walked through the threshold.

That was another thing. He still called you princess. And again, you wanted to tell him to stop, but you were too damn afraid to say anything to him.

"Yeah," you replied, exhausted. "I am..."

You threw your bag somewhere in the living room then trudged to your bedroom before flopping onto the bed. Your day at work was fine, but living with the mafia boss drained all of the energy from you that every action you made took twice the amount of effort that it should've. The second your face hit the pillow, you passed out.

When you woke up later that night, you woke up to see food for you on the kitchen countertop with a little note from Mingi that simply read "eat". You glanced at him on the couch where he was peacefully sleeping, the blanket he used to cover himself slowly slipping off his body.

That was your first mistake with the mafia boss. You shouldn't have cared, but you couldn't help it. You fixed the blanket for him. When you fixed it, he snuggled into the blanket and let out the softest sigh, your heart skipping a beat. You froze when he adjusted his sleeping position, worried that he would wake up, but he didn't. Carefully, you made your way back to the kitchen, ate the food he left for you, then went back to bed.

After seeing him sleep peacefully that one singular time, you unintentionally lowered your guard around the man.

One day, you got home from work to see Mingi sitting in the kitchen. He was on the phone with someone, but you couldn't tell who because the second you entered the room, he hung up.

"Who were you talking to?" you couldn't help but ask.

"None of your concern," Mingi brushed your question off. "How was work today?"

"Tiring... I think I'm going to go take a nap—"

"Don't do that. If you take a nap now, then you're going to be awake all night, and then you'll be even more tired at work tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's Saturday, Mingi," you pointed out.

"Oh... Well, don't take a nap. Keep me company."

Your stomach flipped. You had no idea why, but it did. Maybe you were scared— the man wasn't exactly an angel, and the way he said it was a little nerve-wracking, but he didn't sound malicious. Regardless of your confusion, you decided to just listen to him.

You sat at the kitchen island while Mingi went into the kitchen to start making something. As you sat there, however, you felt your eyes getting heavy, so you stood up and joined him near the stove, watching him as he tossed a couple of vegetables into the pan. You stared at the vegetables just tossing and turning, your eyes starting to get even heavier than before. Before long, your eyes were fully closed, and you started leaning towards Mingi. The second your body came in contact with his, though, you jerked awake and stood up perfectly straight.

"Did you just fall asleep standing up?" he asked with slight amusement as he looked at you, but the straight look on his face suggested that he was anything but amused.

"...Yes."

Mingi lips curled upwards into a slight smirk as he looked back to the stove. He smirked, and your heart fluttered. Your freaking heart fluttered for the mafia boss's insane side profile and devilish grin.

You were done for.

You don't know when the dynamic started shifting for the two of you. Heck, you didn't even know when you went from fearing for your life to enjoying every second you spent with the mafia boss.

Since he pretty much refused to leave your apartment, and you didn't have much of a social life outside of work, you were alone in your apartment together a lot. You started hanging out with Mingi more as a way to keep yourself from taking a nap as soon as you got back from work, and to fill the time between getting home and bedtime, you watched movies, played games, and just talked with the guy. He never told you anything about himself, but he could somehow talk about anything and everything for hours and hours on end.

One night, the two of you were watching a pretty innocent movie— so innocent to the point where it was honestly boring the shit out of you. You stifled a yawn as you and Mingi sat on your couch while watching the movie.

"Come on, the movie isn't that boring," he commented when he saw you actually yawn.

"I'm tired, and this is the world's slowest movie. I'm going to yawn," you retorted.

"Maybe we should change it then..."

Mingi grabbed the TV remote and flipped the channel, the next channel immediately showing the most intimate scene you had ever seen in a movie in your entire life. The second the scene appeared, you heard the characters on screen moan loudly. You choked on your spit and looked away while Mingi panicked and turned off the TV.

Silence filled the living room. You buried your face in your hands. Mingi covered his mouth with his hand. Neither of you dared to speak or even look at each other. The silence continued to persist until Mingi cleared his throat.

"I... Um..." he tried to clear the air with a wavering voice. "M-Maybe we shouldn't watch a movie tonight..."

"Y-Yeah..."

There was another bout of awkward silence. You stood up and silently retreated to your room. Before you closed the door, you squeaked out a quick "good night" to the man in the living room, only to bury yourself in your bedsheets. Your heart was racing, and your mind was spinning— the moment was definitely not expected and awkward, but despite how insane the circumstances were, you were somehow turned on.

The dynamic definitely shifted after that point.

You and Mingi were still friendly with each other, but there was always something underlying in every interaction the two of you shared. It was either prolonged eye contact, or electricity every time the two of you briefly made physical contact with each other. Honestly, Mingi just breathing made you feel like your entire body was on fire, and the longer the tension persisted, the more desperate you got for him to do something— anything— with you.

However, you lacked the courage to tell him that. So, one day, you sat yourself down in front of your vanity mirror in your bedroom and gave yourself a pep talk. Well, you were actually getting ready for an office party you were expected to go to, but you talked yourself into finally making some sort of move on him when you got back from the party.

As you got ready, you planned it out in your head. You were going to slip out of the apartment without Mingi knowing that you left, have only one drink at the party, and then come home immediately after. Luckily, you were able to do just that— you didn't run into Mingi on your way out, you managed to only get through the party on one glass of wine, and you returned home shortly thereafter.

When you got home and opened the door, Mingi didn't expect to see you wearing the tightest dress he had ever seen you wear. His brain short-circuited the longer he stared at the beautiful shape of your body, his eyes drawn to the way the dress hugged your bosom so tightly that it seemed like your chest was ready to pop out of the dress.

"I was wondering where you went," he murmured when you walked back into the apartment.

"There was a company party. I had to go," you sighed as you took your heels off, your sigh slightly turning into a moan of relief.

Mingi gulped nervously when he heard you, his body flushing with heat. It only got worse for him when you shook out your hair, messing it up a little.

As you ran your fingers through your hair, you couldn't help but notice the peculiar look on his face. Sober you would've just dismissed it, but you had enough liquid courage inside you to open your mouth and tease him.

"What is it?" you asked him, a smile playing on your lips.

"Nothing," he immediately responded while sucking in a breath.

You took a step towards him, your body mere centimeters from his. You held his arm, prompting him to look directly into your eyes.

"It doesn't seem like nothing," you whispered.

The man pressed his lips together and exhaled slowly through his nose, his entire body tingling when you rubbed his arm slowly with the faintest touch.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you, princess?"

You bit your lower lip and nodded, a smile playing on your lips. Your hand moved from his arm to his shoulder, then to his neck, your fingers tracing a line down the back of his neck. You closed the distance between you, pressing your body against his. Mingi exhaled slowly, heavily, and he let out a little grunt when you pulled his face towards yours, your lips barely brushing against his.

Mingi looked at you with wide eyes. When you kissed him properly, he acted without another thought. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back harshly, hungrily. His hands moved from your waist to your ass, his large hands cupping underneath and pulling you upwards so that he wouldn't have to bend as much to kiss you.

You clung to Mingi's shoulders when you felt his tongue push into your mouth, making a moan slip out of your mouth. You met his intensity with your own to the point where you were kissing him as if your life depended on it. Your hands desperately clung to him before you ran one hand down his chest, down his stomach, to his waist. You cupped your hand over his clothed hard-on, and that's when everything suddenly changed.

The second he felt your hand on his cock, Mingi pushed you away. He was breathing heavily as he increased the space between the two of you, his chest heaving as he avoided eye contact with you.

"No..." he muttered between breaths. "We shouldn't..."

"What? Why not?"

Mingi bit his lower lip in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. He racked his brain for the proper justification, but he just couldn't come up with anything.

"I... I can't explain."

You huffed in frustration. "You can't keep using that as an excuse, Mingi—"

"Please don't be mad," he interrupted you. "It's just... Can you just trust me when I say we shouldn't?"

"You, the guy with a gun? You want me to trust you?"

"Please."

You took a step away from Mingi. You pushed your hair out of your face and avoided eye contact with him. You were filled with frustration and anger at that point, but you knew that arguing with him was pointless.

"Fine," you finally bit out. "Whatever."

With that, you stormed off to your room and slammed the door behind you.

You and Mingi were walking on eggshells around each other the days following. The two of you couldn't be in the same room after that night. You weren't mad at Mingi anymore, but you didn't want to be anywhere near him because you were still so frustrated with him. That, and every time you were in a room with each other, the sexual tension shot through the roof.

Mingi was on the phone one night when you entered the living room wearing nothing but a robe. You just finished your shower, but you had yet to put clothes on because you needed to find your headband before you could start your night routine.

"Alright, sounds good," Mingi spoke quietly, his eyes tracking your every movement as you searched the living room.

He hung up and continued to watch you warily, his eyes locking on you every single time you bent over to search.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"My headband," you responded.

You started searching between the sofa cushions for the headband— the same sofa that Mingi was sitting on. Mingi refused to move as you continued to search, irritating you further. He was sitting right on one of the cracks. You stood in front of him and frowned at him when you realized that there was no way in hell he was going to move.

"Mingi, move," you tried ordering him even though you knew it was pointless.

Mingi's gaze hardened. You tried to move him yourself, but the second your limbs got close to him, he grabbed you and pinned you down to the couch.

"What the hell—"

"You're doing this intentionally, princess, and you know it," Mingi interrupted, his low voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Don't. Don't fucking try me," he interrupted again, his face lowering towards yours.

You stopped breathing when you felt more of Mingi's body weight on you the closer he pressed himself to you. His knee pushed right between your legs, and his nose brushed against your jawline before he buried his face in the nook of your neck while inhaling deeply. Your entire body trembled when you felt his sensual breath on your neck.

"Mingi," you uttered when he let go of your arms so he could wrap his around you. "You better not be teasing me..."

"You think I would be teasing you right now?" he exhaled shakily.

"After what happened last time? Yes, I do."

Mingi stopped. He moved up and locked eyes with you, and you saw the deep, dark lust swirling in his eyes. Your heart thudded wildly against your chest when you saw the way he was looking at you. He wanted you the same way you wanted him, and there was no way he was going to push you away the same way he did last time.

Rather than continue in the living room, Mingi lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom. He laid you down in your bed and untied your robe, revealing your bare body. He once again buried his face in your neck, but this time he cupped your breasts, his large hand massaging your breasts as he left soft kisses all over your neck. You moaned slightly as held onto his shoulders tightly, your body beginning to writhe beneath him.

"Mingi," you whimpered in a hushed tone.

"Yes, princess?" Mingi murmured into your skin.

You didn't know what to say— part of you wanted to beg him for more, but he was barely doing anything, so you wanted to beg him to just fuck you already, but you knew that he wasn't going to just do as you asked so quickly. You settled for cupping his face and bringing him to meet your gaze briefly before locking lips gently with him.

He kissed you gently at first, meeting the same energy, but when you brought your knee up between his legs, his breathing hitched, and he kissed you a lot more forcefully. You moved your hands to the back of his neck and held on tightly as you found yourself getting swept away in Mingi's barrage of kisses.

As his lips ravished yours, Mingi's hand moved from your breast down between your legs. His fingernails scratched along your folds before he teased your cunt by barely sinking a singular finger into your cunt. You rolled your hips upwards the second you felt his fingers prod into you, making him withdraw his fingers— he was teasing you again. You whined and rolled your waist towards him impatiently.

"You're so impatient, princess," Mingi couldn't help but note with a slight snicker.

"How can I not be when this is all I've wanted for so long?" you huffed out.

Mingi's ears turned a light shade of pink briefly when he heard your words. Before you could say or do anything to poke fun at his random shyness, he thrust two of his fingers into your cunt. You gasped and held onto him even tighter when he moved his fingers in and out of you quickly, without remorse. His fingers were quite literally ruining you with the way he was curling them and ramming them deep inside you.

"F-Fuck, Mingi," you cried as you dug your nails into his skin. "S-Slow down!"

As if he was going to listen to you. Mingi added a third finger and continued with his rapid pace. You felt tension build inside you the rougher he got, and right when you felt like the tension was going to snap, he withdrew his fingers. Without missing a beat, Mingi lowered himself so that his face was between your legs. He kissed and sucked on your clit intensely before shoving his three fingers inside you again, overstimulating you completely. You cried loudly as you came, your cunt fluttering as you squirted.

Despite you cumming, the man kept going. He flicked his tongue rapidly against your clit and continued to fuck you with his fingers. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you pushed your head back into your bed and let yourself go completely. You came again, the force making not only your legs but your entire body tremble.

You were only seeing stars in your vision when Mingi finally stopped. You did your best to blink them away as you felt him move away from you. You were barely able to see clearly when he knelt before you and started stripping himself down. He took off his shirt to reveal his defined chest and the abs that you saw the very first time you met him. The wound that was on his waist had actually healed quite nicely, barely leaving a scar on his body. You couldn't help but reach for his waist and trail your finger along the area that he injured.

"W-What is it?" he asked, his voice trembling a little.

"The wound..." you muttered.

Your eyes slowly moved from gazing at the faint injury to his face. His eyes were still intense, but there was a small smile on his face— a smile that quickly turned into a smirk. His hands reached for your waist, and before long, you were sitting up. He slid the open robe off your shoulders, leaving kisses along your newly exposed skin as he did so. He trailed the kisses from your shoulder down your arm until the robe was completely off you, and he took your fingers into his mouth as he threw the robe off the bed. Your limbs tingled when you felt him suck on your fingers, the pressure making you feel pleasure that you'd never felt before— which was crazy considering that all he was doing was merely sucking your fingers.

When Mingi took your fingers out of his mouth, he sat back on his heels and undid his pants. Your eyes widened when you saw him pull out the most massive cock you had ever seen. His cock was rock hard, throbbing and twitching with every breath he took. He quickly removed his pants entirely and tossed them aside before reaching for your hand and guiding it to his cock. His cock seemed even more massive in your hand, and you were so dumbstruck by it that the man had no choice but to guide your hand up and down his length.

"Don't be scared, princess," you heard him chuckle in a low tone. "I promise I won't hurt you."

As his hand continued to guide yours, his other hand reached for your neck and brought your face closer to his. He pressed his fingers into the sides of your neck gently and kissed you sloppily but passionately, his tongue infiltrating your mouth. You were on cloud nine with the way he was squeezing your neck just right and kissing you over and over again. Your brain was melting the longer he kissed you, and when he stopped, you nearly whimpered. You looked at him desperately, and when you saw the smirk reappear on his face, you knew that he was definitely not going to leave you disappointed.

Mingi laid down on the bed so that his back was pressed against the headboard. He moved you so that you were straddling him, your hands holding onto his shoulders. You felt him rubbing his cock along your ass, the sheer size of his cock making you more nervous with every passing second.

"Are, uh... Are you sure this is the best way to start?" you whispered, your nerves starting to make your body tense.

"Trust me, princess. I know what I'm doing," Mingi replied in a hushed tone, his lips near your ear as he leaned towards you.

The sound of his low voice in your ear made you shiver. Holding your waist, Mingi moved you up before taking his cock and lining it up with your entrance. As soon as you felt the tip of his cock press through your cunt, you exhaled through your teeth, only for that exhale to get cut off by a loud cry when Mingi pushed down on your waist.

"Mingi— Fuck! Y-You're too big!" you sobbed when you felt his cock fill you up to the point where you felt like he already hit your cervix.

"Just breathe, princess," he said calmly as he brushed your hair out of your face. "Relax for me, okay?"

You exhaled slowly, and your body relaxed slightly. You remained seated on Mingi's cock as your grip on his shoulders loosened, his cock throbbing inside you. Leaning towards you, Mingi peppered kisses along your neck and chest, his hands rubbing your waist, hips, and thighs.

"Good, princess... Now, start moving when you're ready, okay?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded. Taking a slow breath, you slowly and barely started moving your waist up and down, the length and girth of his cock a little too much for you to handle on your own. You couldn't help but let out a little cry every time you moved, his cock somehow seeming to get bigger with every movement you made.

Mingi's hands moved to cup your ass, and he assisted you. He moved you on his cock, making you cry louder when you felt the impact of your ass on his thighs and his cock ramming deep inside you whenever he pushed you down with force. The more he had to move you, though, the more frustrated the man got. After making you ride his cock for another solid ten seconds or so, he suddenly flipped you so that your back was pressed against the mattress.

Without a moment to lose, Mingi lowered his body so that your breasts were barely grazing his chest as he rolled his waist into yours. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, your nails digging into the skin on his back as his thrusts got stronger. Your entire body lurched with every slam of his pelvis against yours, and you choked on sobs and whimpers whenever you felt his cock reach deep inside you.

As painful as it was, you didn't want him to stop for even a second because it also felt that fucking good. The way his cock would graze your cervix which each thrust made you more and more excited, and it made the knot in your stomach get tighter and tighter.

"Fuck, princess," Mingi hissed through grit teeth. "You're so fucking tight. You feel so— Fuck!— So fucking good... Your cunt was just made for me, wasn't it, princess?"

Tears blurred your eyes, and one slipped out when you shut your eyes tightly and cried loudly in agreement. You couldn't even bother trying to come up with coherent words as Mingi literally fucked all of the thoughts out of your brain with his intense thrusts. You didn't think they would remain as intense when he started moving faster, but you were sorely mistaken— Mingi was strong and powerful no matter what his pace was.

Mingi bit his lower lip as he moved up. He grasped and pulled on your breasts as his waist moved rapidly, the sounds of your skin making contact over and over again filling up the room along with the squeaks of your worn bedsprings and the two of you moaning and groaning. The room got hotter, and you felt Mingi's sweat start to dot your skin when he dropped his head to watch the way your cunt swallowed his fat dick.

Honestly, just the sight of your sore red pussy was enough to make the man cum, but he held back as long as he possibly could. It was when he suddenly rammed his cock as far deep inside you as he could did he hit your cervix and make you cream around his cock, subsequently making him cum because your cunt got so tight that he thought you were going to snap it off. He grabbed your waist and rammed his cock deep inside you one final time before groaning loudly and filling you up with his cum.

The two of you were panting heavily by the time your highs wore off. Mingi's cock was still throbbing inside you by the time you caught your breath and blinked the blurriness out of your eyes, only for that blurriness to return when you felt him start to pull out, the friction of his cock inside your cunt making you feel good all over again.

"Fuck, princess," Mingi winced then chuckled when he felt your cunt tighten up. "Do that again, and I'll be forced to fuck you all night."

You locked eyes with him when he said that, and you pulled him closer to you before he could pull out completely. You kissed him sensually and left a tiny bite on his lower lip, slightly startling the man before you whispered, "Fuck me all night, then. I want you to ruin me, Mingi."

Mingi kissed you again as he pushed his cock all the way inside you once more. He smirked against your lips in between kisses.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

The next day was extremely weird. When you woke up, Mingi wasn't in bed with you— sure, he didn't have to sleep in the same bed as you after the two of you slept together for the first time, but considering that the two of you stayed in your tiny apartment together, it was weird that he wasn't there next to you. That, however, was not the weirdest part of that morning.

You barely made it out of bed and stumbled into the living room to see that Mingi wasn't on the couch either. Actually, there was no trace of him living in your living room at all or in your entire apartment for that matter. Your jaw dropped as you realized that Mingi was not only not in the apartment, but he and the very little belongings he had completely vanished.

You searched your entire freaking apartment for any sign of him or at least a clue as to where he had gone, but there was nothing in sight. Mingi had disappeared as if he was never there in the first place, leaving you confused, angry, and sad.

Sure, he was a mafia boss, and he owed you no explanation, but how could he just leave you like that? Especially after the way the two of you spent the night prior, why did he just leave you like that?

In the days following, you tried to see if you could figure out where he had disappeared to, but you couldn't. There was no way you were going to be able to track down that man. Just as randomly as he entered your life, he left it as well, and you had to somehow make your peace with that.

Yet, you couldn't help but miss him. You couldn't help but miss the man that held the gun to your head and threatened to kill you, the man that spent so much fucking time with you over the past several weeks, the man you accidentally fell in love with. Fuck. How the hell were you going to make peace with that?

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tpwk-formula1 · 2 days

Note

Cauliflower Crust poly fic please! Max Verstappen for Artichokes, Lewis Hamilton for Gorgonzola cheese with Alfredo Sauce and Mt. Dew (dom!reader) No dessert

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower crust sunshine x grumpy Alfredo sauce sweet sex artichokes "Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use" gorgonzola "Are you always this fucking loud?" mt dew dom/sub dessert no served by Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton

Max Verstappen x Lewis Hamilton x Grumpy! reader

TW mean! reader, blow job, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, threesome

Y/N POV

"Both of you shut up please," I finally groan out after having listened to Lewis and Max bicker about who had a worse day during the race the entire flight. We still had another hour before we would get home and I was over both of them

"Quite frankly, you guys both fucking sucked today. It was neither of your faults it was bad it just was how the day went," I tell them very much over the day.

I was never a sunshine and rainbows girl but after watching both of my boyfriends struggling I sure as hell had zero patience, not for either of them, and surely not to listen to them bicker the entire flight.

"All I'm saying is you didn't have to start from the pit lane," Lewis added completely disregarding what I had just told them.

"You didn't have to be overtaken by Lando who started from fucking p15," Max shoots back making me snap at both of them men.

"Enough! Both of you in the room now," I shout making both men stop bickering at each other and slowly look at me before both of them scramble to get up and rush their way into the small room we had for privacy on the jet.

While the room was small and didn't have a lot of room it was perfect for the three of us to escape into after a long day. Most of the time it was used for sleeping or cuddling with the rare times it is used for what I'm about to do.

When I follow them into the room shortly after I find both men sitting on the bed with their hands in their laps not speaking.

"Oh now you know how to be quiet," I say while rolling my eyes and stepping between Max's parted thighs.

"You are doing what you can with that fucking car, but please shut up about it for once," I say before placing a kiss on his forehead and moving towards Lewis and standing between his legs the same way.

"And you are a 7 time world champion, no one is going to remember where you finished in Baku 2024, so you need to let it go, pretend it never happened," I tell him placing a kiss on his cheek before stepping back and observing both of them.

"Strip and on your knees now," I finally say making both of the boys stand and start doing as they're ask.

I knew both of them where frustrated and I knew it wouldn't take long to make them putty in my hands.

When they were finally on their knees on the bed given we didnt have space on the floor I observe both of them as they nervously twitch around trying to get comfortable under my harsh gaze.

I step to Lewis first placing soft kisses around his chest before trailing my tongue down to his cock which is already hard as a rock just waiting for me to do something.

I take one good lick at Lewis's tip making me hiss in pleasure but it still wasn't enough for what he needed in the moment. Before stepping back and moving towards Max making Lewis whine at the loss of my attention.

"No please," Lewis begs making me roll my eyes and flick his hip softly to tell him to knock it off.

"See how needy he is," I saw staring directly as Max before pulling him in for a wet kiss. I pull back far faster than Max would have liked but he kept quiet not wanting to be on the receiving end of my verbal lashings right now.

I start trailing wet kisses down Max's neck and chest, setting my hands on his thighs softly before I take him halfway into my mouth and giving it a long suck.

"Oh fuck," Max groans not expecting to get so much stimulation so quickly.

I knew how my boys were. Lewis hated being teased, if it was up to him I would already have made him cum. But Max, he was sweet and wanted the build up, he wants it to be slow and for us to take our time.

"S'too much," Max mumbles trying to pull his hips back when I start bobbing my head a bit.

"You can handle it," I say sharply when I pull back. When I look up I find Max staring down with reddened cheeks and a gazed over look in his eyes letting me know just how much of a slut he was for this.

"Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use" I add sharply making Max whimper slightly. I knew it was harsh and maybe even uncalled for but it all the more spurred him on. I think the thought of people finding out that off the track he was a submissive slut for his shared girl friend turned him on.

I went right back in to taking Max down my throat before pushing him back so he can lay on the bed.

"You know what to do Lewis," I snap at Lewis making his scramble to get behind me and pull the sweat shorts I was wearing down taking my panties with them. With the angle I was in he wasn't able to pull them off completely so he just let them rest at my knees.

"You go slow," I tell Lewis knowing if I gave him free rein right now we would both be cumming before I can even finish sucking our boyfriend.

I hear Lewis groan at the command but he still listens because the next thing I know Lewis is slowly pushing in making me gasp softly.

Once Lewis was all the way in he gave me some time to adjust. While I was used to taking his cock he was still quite large stretching me out each time we fucked.

When Lewis started thrusting I gasp around Max's cock making me whine some more. Once we all get into a steady pace I can hear Lewis whining and moaning trying to keep the pace steady even though all he wants to do is speed up.

"Are you always this fucking loud?" I say while turning my head to look at Lewis so he knows I was talking to him. I watch as Lewis's hips buck erratically before getting back on pace.

"S'so good," Lewis mumbled making me smile a little before I turned back to Max and brought him into my mouth once again.

I could tell Max wasn't gonna last much longer so I pull away slightly before mumbling, "Speed up Lew."

That had Lewis instantly speeding up his pace making me gasp as the brutal attack but I can't deny it felt amazing.

"Close," Max mumbled making me speed up my actions letting him know it's okay to cum. It didn't take long for Max to unload his massive load down my throat making me swallow everything he gave me.

Max's orgasm triggered mine because while I'm making quick work of swallowing his cum my orgasm comes out of nowhere making me instantly start shaking all over Lewis's cock sending him over the edge and cumming in my pussy. I rocked my hips slightly making sure to ride Lewis and I's orgasm out before he is slowly pulling out and laying next to Max and I.

The three of us are completely blissed out and basking in our post-orgasm glow.

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merwgue · 3 days

Text

Rhysand is often portrayed as this perfect, morally grey ruler, but when you take a closer look at his actions, it's obvious how messed up he really is. Let’s break down the so-called “benevolent” High Lord of the Night Court.

1. The Hewn City – The King of Torture? Rhysand's treatment of the people in Hewn City is straight-up barbaric. The way he holds power over them isn’t out of necessity or to “protect” them from worse rulers—it’s control through fear and violence. He tortures them, plays with their lives, and enjoys maintaining his iron grip on them. It's almost like he uses them as his personal stress toys. Is that really the hallmark of a just ruler? Sure, Hewn City isn’t full of saints, but for Rhys to stand on his high horse and act like he's saving everyone while still torturing his subjects? Hypocrisy at its finest.

2. Rhysand and Feyre – Let’s Talk About Consent Let’s not forget that he literally assaulted Feyre Under the Mountain. I don’t care how anyone tries to frame it as him “saving her” from Amarantha—there’s no excuse for the way he took away her agency. Rhys manipulated her, forced her into wearing those skimpy outfits, and paraded her around for his entertainment. All while pretending it was for the greater good. It's pretty damn disgusting how that gets brushed under the rug like it was some noble sacrifice when in reality, he robbed Feyre of her choices.

3. Planning to Execute Nesta – The Line Between Justice and Control Rhysand and his inner circle legit planned to execute Nesta, all because she didn’t fall in line. Nesta had her faults—hell, a lot of them—but threatening her life because she didn't act the way Rhys wanted? That's not justice; that's manipulation and control at its core. He wasn't trying to protect anyone. He was pissed that he couldn't control her, that she wasn't another cog in his perfect little machine of Night Court harmony.

4. Tamlin – Kicking a Man While He’s Down Say what you will about Tamlin, but there’s no denying that Rhysand completely overstepped every boundary when it came to him. The Night Court loves to preach about freedom, but Rhys had no problem strutting into Tamlin’s land, throwing it in his face, and making an already broken man feel like utter shit. There’s a difference between defending your own and downright antagonizing someone who’s in the depths of depression. At one point, he basically told Tamlin to end his own life. What kind of "savior" talks like that to someone who's clearly struggling? It's downright cruel.

5. The Night Court – A Dictatorship Wrapped in Pretty Words Rhysand's Night Court is sold to everyone as this place of freedom, where people can be who they truly are—but at what cost? If you cross Rhys or don’t fall in line with his vision, you either face his wrath, his torture, or his manipulation. He's not running a court; he's running a dictatorship where everything is fine as long as it aligns with his master plan. The fact that he keeps calling himself the “most powerful High Lord in history” just feeds into that massive god complex he has. The ego on this guy is unbelievable.

6. Double Standards – The Morality of Convenience Rhys preaches about freedom and respect, but he only seems to extend that to people he deems worthy. If you’re in his circle or someone he cares about, great—you get all the privileges. If not? Well, tough luck. He’ll trample over your land, threaten your life, or torture you into submission. The cherry on top? Everyone around him acts like he’s the greatest thing to happen to Prythian, and the fandom just eats it up.

So, yeah. Rhysand is fucked up. He’s not just morally grey—he’s power-hungry, manipulative, and borderline sadistic. His version of “ruling” the Night Court is as hypocritical as it gets. Benevolent High Lord? More like the king of self-righteous cruelty.

7. Locking Up Nesta – Rhysand’s Tamlin Moment Remember how everyone vilified Tamlin for locking Feyre up “for her own safety”? Sure, it was messed up, but the narrative painted him as this controlling, possessive villain because of it. Now, fast forward to Rhysand, who literally does the same thing to Nesta. She’s spiraling, yes, but instead of finding her real help or giving her space to heal, he decides to trap her in the House of Wind like a damn prisoner. He takes away her freedom, isolates her from the outside world, and forces her into a situation she clearly doesn’t want. How is that any different from what Tamlin did?

But here’s the kicker: Rhysand gets praised for it. Why? Because he’s Rhysand, the supposed hero, and everything he does is always “for the greater good,” right? It’s utter bullshit. He used the same controlling tactics on Nesta that Tamlin used on Feyre, but the fandom acts like he was being this saintly, tough-love older brother. What he did was textbook manipulation, stripping away Nesta’s autonomy because she didn’t fit into his perfect vision of what recovery should look like.

8. Forcing Recovery on Nesta – Ignoring Trauma Let’s not sugarcoat this: Rhysand locked up a woman who was using drinking as a coping mechanism and basically said, “Tough luck, you’re staying here until you fix yourself.” That's not helping; that’s punishing someone for their trauma. Nesta was in pain, lashing out and struggling to deal with what happened to her. Did she need help? Absolutely. But instead of offering her real emotional support, Rhys just forced her into a recovery program that suited his standards and timeline, not hers.

What makes this even worse is that Nesta was self-harming through drinking, and instead of addressing the root cause of her pain, Rhysand and his inner circle chose to control her like she was a problem that needed to be fixed, not a person who needed to be understood. There’s nothing noble about that.

9. Rhysand’s Hypocrisy – Tamlin vs. Himself This is where Rhysand’s hypocrisy really shines. He condemned Tamlin for being controlling, and Feyre (rightfully) left that toxic environment. But Rhys turns around and does the same thing to Nesta, and instead of being held accountable for it, he gets celebrated for “taking action.” How does that even make sense? It's such a double standard that it's almost laughable. Tamlin’s actions were wrong, but Rhysand’s were just as bad, if not worse, because he knew better. He knew what it felt like to be controlled, yet he did it anyway.

10. Stop Giving Rhys a Pass People need to stop giving Rhysand a pass for his behavior. He gets away with literal torture, manipulation, locking people up, and trampling over others' boundaries because he’s good at hiding it behind the facade of “protecting his court.” He’s not the hero people make him out to be. He’s just as flawed and fucked up as the people he claims to be better than.

At the end of the day, locking someone up—whether it’s Feyre in the Spring Court or Nesta in the House of Wind—is a violation of their autonomy. Rhysand isn't some hero swooping in to save the day. He's a controlling ruler who just happens to be good at spinning the narrative in his favor.

#anti rhys #anti ic #anti nessian #anti feyre #anti mor #anti night court #pro tamlin #pro valkyries #pro nesta #acotar #rhysand #anti rhysand #i still have more stuff about him btw #acosf #acotar fandom

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hencheri · 7 hours

Text

18+. mdni.

pairing: mean toxic bf!haechan x fem!reader

warnings: noncon, toxic relationship, gaslighting.

wc: 1.2k

you're watching a movie in the living room, but you're distracted, focused on your thoughts instead of the flashing screen in front of you. it's 3 a.m. and you can hear haechan playing video games in your bedroom.

he hasn't talked to you for hours, hasn't said a word or even looked in your way. it's bothering you a lot. you have a constant knot in your stomach and your heart accelerates at the mere thought of haechan ignoring you.

you hate when he does this, it makes you feel bad. so fucking bad.

you get up from the couch, going to your bedroom. you push the door open, hesitantly walking in. you need to talk to him.

"hyuck?"

he stares at his computer's screen, pressing down on the keys of his keyboard, concentrated on his game. his has his headset on, maybe he hasn't heard you.

"johnny!" haechan calls into his microphone, "quick, come save me."

"hyuckie..." you stand beside him and you know he can see you from the corner of his eye. you bite down on your bottom lip, waiting for an answer that doesn't come.

he continues to play like you're not there. it upsets you so much, could he not be petty for once?

"we need to talk, please," you demand, still trying to get his attention. you know he hears you now since he's quiet.

a few seconds pass before he replies back, "we have nothing to say."

you sigh, exasperated. there are plenty of things you need to discuss about actually, and not just what happened a couple of hours ago. it makes you cringe thinking about the previous events, but you can't just brush it off, especially when haechan's still sour about it.

you were both in bed about to go sleep soon. he made a move, touching your hips up and down, pressing his crotch against your butt. you weren't in the mood, so you told him to stop. he didn't at first and you pushed him away, which really offended him.

he then turned on his pc before you could say anything and you went to the living to watch a movie, a poor attempt to forget about this ridiculous fight.

"but-" you begin, a little annoyed, "we do."

your voice is covered by johnny yelling something to haechan, once again ignored by your boyfriend. "here, here, here! i need to heal you," he yells back, fingers hurriedly pressing down on the keys, "shit, these guys are rough."

"hyuck-" you try, placing your hand on his arm, but he grabs your wrist before you can and shoves your hand away.

you frown, hurt by his action.

"what? we won!?" haechan exclaims, brows shooting up in surprise. you hear johnny talking back without deciphering his words. "ah, they missed the base," he laughs, "yeah, it was close."

he removes his headset and puts it on his desk. but he still decides to not acknowledge you, even when his game is done.

"please," you beg a bit desperately.

"what's the matter?" he sighs loudly, throwing his head back against the headrest of his chair.

"haechan! you've just ignored me the whole night! you can't always do that," you explain to him even though he'll probably only understand what he wants as usual.

he rolls his eyes, "yeah and it's always my fault, right?" he says.

"what- no, that's not-"

"it is," he affirms. he turns his head to you, "every time we so 'need to talk' it's about how i'm wrong, how i shouldn't do this or that, how i should just agree to everything you say and shut my mouth."

you're agape. is this really what he thinks you do? that you only want to complain about him?

"that's not true," you deny, "hyuck, i just want us to communicate, it's important."

he scoffs, "no, you're always the one talking. you don't actually want to hear what i have to say." he looks at you like he's hurt and you start wondering if he might be right. are you really that self-centred? "that's not really what i call communication, you know."

"do you ever ask yourself how i'm feeling? how constantly being rejected makes me feel?" he questions, his gaze not leaving you.

"i don't constantly reject you," you rectify. "sometimes i'm simply not in the mood to sleep with you..."

haechan winces upon hearing your words. "because you are for others?"

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. that's not how you should have said it. "no, that's not what i meant-" but your boyfriend cuts you off, rising up from his gaming chair.

"yeah, no," he shakes his head, "you know what? i've had this feeling that you don't love me like you say you do." he goes around you and you follow him, wanting to reason with him, but he isn't done talking yet.

"we haven't fucked in days and the only thing you let me do is jerk off with your hand. how- how should i interpret that, huh?" haechan sounds genuinely hurt and upset, but that was never your intention to make him feel this way. how could he even doubt your love for him?

"hyuck, please, sit down," you ask, wrapping your hand around his arm to pull him back against you, but he slips away from you.

he turns around and faces you. "are you seeing someone else? is that why?" he suddenly bursts out and you're totally shocked.

"what? no way, how can you think that!?"

he approaches you and this time, you're the one stepping back until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the bed. you look up at haechan, heart beating faster and faster.

"you're not denying it," he points out, now only a few inches separating you from him. "you're cheating on me... how can you be so fucking heartless?"

you shake your head from side to side, gulping down. this isn't true. you've always stayed faithful to your boyfriend, but the knot in your throat prevents you from speaking up, eyes swelling up in tears.

he clasps his hand around your bicep, digging his fingers into your flesh, pulling you flushed to his chest.

"i can't believe it," he breathes out, "my girlfriend is a fucking whore."

you're still in shock when he crashes his mouth on you, smacking his lips to yours and pushing his tongue inside. your whines are muffled, weak hands pushing on his chest to get him off of you, but to no avail.

you fall on the bed and haechan crushes you with his weight, trapping you under him. you squirm around, not liking the way he doesn't listen to your protests and how he forces himself on you.

his lips descend to your neck, planting quick kisses as if he's in a hurry, going down to the valley of your breasts.

"hyuck, please, stop," you cry, but he doesn't listen.

his fingers hook into your shorts, pulling them down with your underwear, too. your breath is caught in your throat, only exhaling when you feel the familiar push of his cock inside of your unprepared pussy.

"you're mine," he moans, the squeeze of your cunt around him making him frown, "when will you finally understand it..."

#this was inspired by the relay cam videos lmfao #tw noncon #tw toxic relationship #nct smut #nct x reader #nct hard hours #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #haechan x reader #haechan smut #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 smut

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cinnaleaf · 17 hours

Text

Wildflower | One Shot

Anon Request: Trent x best friend!reader "Wildflower - Billie Eilish" | MASTERLIST

genre: pure angst wc: ~1.6k a/n: thank you for all your requests, i hope my interpretation fuels your angsty little hearts!

You never meant to love him like this.

Being his best friend wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. You were always in the background, like the wildflowers that grow on the side of the road. Delicate, yet resilient and waiting to be seen. You were always right in front of Trent, ready to give him everything but he kept looking past you and you hated it. Why were you still standing there, loving him when he already chose someone else?

Zoë.

You didn't hate her even though you really wanted to. She was pretty much everything you weren't. Her presence lit up any room, like a sunflower basking in the sun, drawing everyone's attention without doing much at all. Then there was you..a little wildflower growing in the shadows. Unnoticed. It wasn't Zoë's fault Trent treated you the way he did and you knew that, but you couldn't help feeling a little jealous every time you saw them together. You tried to ignore it, but you could feel Trent pulling away from you. He was being cold, distant, and mean. You didn't understand why and it hurt.

“I dunno why you're still here, Y/N,” Trent muttered in a sharp tone, pulling his hoodie over his head as he glanced at you. You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone like you always did. The two of you grew up together and were practically inseparable, until now.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” you asked, feeling knots in your stomach. “You're always around,” he said, his gaze not quite meeting your eyes. “like I need you here or something.” His words slapped you in the face. You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. “If you want me to leave..just say that. You don't have to be so damn rude about it.” Trent scoffed, running his hands over his face before looking back at you with cold eyes. “I'm saying it now, yeah?”

Something had changed, and you didn’t understand why.

“I know you don’t mean to hurt me, so I’ll keep it to myself” was like a mantra you kept repeating to yourself, willing yourself to believe it. You wanted it to be true so badly. You loved him but you wouldn't date admit it to him, especially not now.

You didn’t know he loved you just as much as you loved him. He tried so hard to avoid the feelings he had for you, even if it meant pushing you away. It wasn’t something he was ready to tackle yet. He was dating Zoë in an effort to distract himself from the way he felt about you.

A couple of weeks later, you were at a random bar. It wasn't your usual spot, but Zoë invited you for whatever reason. She was sitting next to you, stirring her drink with a paper straw that was clearly getting soggy. You weren't close to her like you were with Trent, but she asked you to meet up and curiosity got the best of you. She was complaining for the last fifteen minutes, but you weren't really listening until something she said cut through the noise in your head.

“I don't know what's up with Trent,” Zoë said, sounding frustrated. “He doesn't even touch me like he used to anymore. He's there but he's not at the same time. I don't get it. He'll kiss me but then it's like his mind is somewhere else. It's so frustrating.” You froze as your fingers tightened around the glass in front of you. Every time Zoë told you something about him, it stung. He had been pulling away from you for months, but why was he pulling away from Zoë? Your heart did a stupid little flip, thinking maybe the reason he was acting so weird had to do with something else and not you.

“It's weird though,” Zoë added, not noticing the way your face went stone cold. “Sometimes he'll be staring at me and it's like he's trying, but then he just...doesn't.” Her words lingered in the air, you hated how much they made you yearn for something you never had. You wanted to know what it felt like to be held by him the way she did. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, his hands on your waist. You wanted him to really see you. But you weren't her. You weren't the sunflower in his life and it was crushing you.

“Maybe he's just stressed with the season? He gets intense sometimes…” you offered, knowing that probably wasn't it. All of you were lying. To yourself, and to each other. There was no good answer for any of this. Zoë nodded, continuing to swirl her drink as she pondered. “Maybe,” she sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “I really miss how it used to be when he’d come home from a match and kiss me like I was the only thing he cared about.”

The thought of Trent kissing her and holding onto her like she was everything he needed made your chest tighten. You spent years being his best friend, hoping for scraps of affection just to not get any at all. Meanwhile, Zoë got all of it, even if it seemed to be fading.

It wasn't fair, but life never is. C'est la vie.

You stood in the stands of Anfield, surrounded by cheering fans. You shoved your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. It was cold but Zoë's words still swirled around in your head, making you shiver. You didn't even know why you were at the match, but you were. You always went to every single one. Watching Trent move across the pitch was fun to look at any other time; he was a force out there. Would he even acknowledge you or look in the crowd for you like he used to? Or would you just be another face lost in a sea of red? You caught sight of Zoë a few rows in front of you, looking picture perfect as always. She was laughing with her friends, showing not a care in the world. Maybe they fixed things?

For the next 90 minutes your mind kept drifting, not focusing on the match at all. You wondered what it would be like having Trent come home to you, kissing you and telling you how much fun he had on the pitch. You used to be that person, albeit not in the way you wanted to be because there were never any kisses shared. Suddenly, it hit you in the middle of the match. You weren't jealous of Zoë, you were jealous of the version of Trent that was open and affectionate toward her. The version you never had and probably would never receive.

The crowd erupted into cheers after Liverpool secured the win. You should've been celebrating along with them but instead, you felt hollow. Your eyes followed Trent as he jogged off the pitch, he was in celebratory mode, joking with the team and laughing. He glanced at the stands for a quick second, and you thought maybe he was looking for you. Your heart did that stupid little flip again, even though you knew better. His eyes landed on Zoë and your stomach dropped.

You couldn't do this anymore.

Without taking a second to think, you slipped out of your seat and headed to the exit as the noise of the stadium faded into the background. You didn't want to be there when he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. You can't look. Not tonight. Not ever again.

Your phone pinged as you made your way through the crowd but you ignored it. It was probably just a group chat about the match or a text from someone checking to see if you were still at the stadium. It really didn't matter anymore because you weren't coming back. You pushed through the exit, walking for what seemed like forever. You didn't want to stop because stopping meant thinking, and you did not want to think about Trent right now. He was never going to see you the way you saw him and you were done waiting for it to happen. Did he even notice that you were gone?

He noticed.

The seat you always sat in was empty. He got used to scanning the crowd for you, it was his usual routine. You would always give him a smile or a thumbs up, but tonight there was nothing.

Zoë was next to him talking about dinner plans, but he wasn't really listening. He couldn't stop thinking about you, and he knew he messed up. Something in his heart tugged, it was a feeling that had been there for a couple of months now. He kept ignoring it because it was easier that way. Pushing you away and acting like nothing changed was easier than admitting he loved you. And now you weren't there.

He glanced at Zoë, who was on her phone posting a picture they took post match. She didn't notice he was quiet, but he knew you would've noticed. You were always there through everything. The good, the bad, the ugly, the wins, and the losses. You were his rock, his constant. But he was so wrapped up in his own bullshit that he was scared to admit you were more than a friend to him.

You were his wildflower, always there, waiting for him to see you. For the first time he realized he was too busy chasing the sun to notice the beauty growing that was right beside him for years.

You were his everything, and now you were gone.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander x reader #trent alexander arnold angst #footballer x reader #trent alexander x you #trent alexander arnold imagine

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dsireland86 · 2 days

Note

Hello ☺️ Hope your doing well.

Could I please request a Matt Dierkes one shot if possible him being a grumpy ass except to his wife?? Fluffy and cute 🙏

Oh you are my first Matt Dierkes one-shot! Yes! Thank you for the inspiration :)

Feeling on the Edge

TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986

Matt drummed his fingers on his lap anxiously. I could tell he was in a bad mood, dying to get out of the video call meeting with the management team. His face said he was irritated and completely over the whole record label bull crap. He just wanted to be done.

Seeing how fidgety he was, I nudged his leg beneath the table with my foot hoping the friction was enough to tame his temper. He looked over at me and his dark eyes, full aggression, immediately softening.

I grinned at him to let him know I was still in his corner. He grinned back, took a deep breath, and refocused his attention on the computer screen, but not before reaching over and placing his hand on the inside of my thigh.

The rest of the day was hell for everyone, because Matt insisted on setting the world around him on fire. Every little thing that someone did annoyed him. Every word that was said, Matt had some sarcastic, snippy remark to follow it.

In the process of just three hours, he managed to break a computer monitor because he was too impatient, cut the wrong wire while attempting to splice a cable that Noah said was dead, spill Nicholas's coffee all down the front of him because he turned around too fast out of anger, dropped a mix board, misplaced his phone not once, not twice, but three times, and to top it all off, he had run out of Dr. Pepper.

"Dude, you need to calm the hell down! You starting to stress me out," Folio criticized him.

"Yeah, no joke. And if Folio is stressed then the rest of us are at the point of giving you a beatdown."

Matt glared at Noah who crossed his arms while leaning against the table. Matt didn't speak, but the look he was giving Noah screamed a big "fuck you".

"Well, it's not my fault. Those stupid pieces of shit at the record label treat me like I'm and idiot sometimes. I'm not a fucking idiot! I know how to do my job!"

"Nobody is say you are, baby," I pointed out.

"Matt calm down, man. You know not to listen to those people."

Nicholas came walking into the conversation after switching to a pair of clean clothes.

"Oh my god! What the hell are you wearing?"

Matt's expression was of utter disgust, looking at Nick. All of us turned and stared, a few bursting into fits of laughter. Nick didn't match at all. Sporting a neon pink shit that was a little too snug and a pair of snake skin looking pants that were way too stretchy for him to be wearing, he looked ridiculous.

"What?" Nick shrugged with his hands up. "It's all I could find. If someone hadn't been so angry and turned around so fast," scowling over at Matt, "I wouldn't be in this mess."

"Oh so it's my fault you look like a clown?" Matt snapped.

"Yeah, I kinda is," Nick shot back. "And your piss poor attitude!"

"What! I don't have a piss poor attitude! I've just had a fucked up day and all of you have added to it!"

"What! I didn't do anything!" I exclaimed defensively.

Matt's eyes quickly shifted over to me. "No, no, not you baby. You're fine. You haven't done anything wrong," he reassured me, smiling.

"Oh for god's sake, come on man! Your wife isn't that perfect," Folio groaned.

"Hey!"

"Mmm, I don't know, Folio, she's pretty perfect. I mean, you've had her cooking, and we all know that's she's done your laundry a few times, even finding the matches to your lost socks."

Folio looked at me, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah I guess so. Sorry, Y/N," he said leaning over and laying a sweet soft kiss on my cheek.

"Okay, well if you all are done flirting with my wife, I'd like to have her back now, please. Go get your own women! She belongs to me."

"Matt! That was so mean!"

"What! It's true! They're always trying to steal you from me."

I laughed so hard.

"Holy shit, Matt, you can't be serious!"

"Especially you," he chided Noah. "You're always trying to get in her pants."

"Alright, Matthew. That's it! Come with me; now!"

"It's Matt," he corrected me as I pulled him away from the group.

"What is going on with you? Where did that come from? Noah? Really, Matt!"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, walking sluggishly over to me. I snaked my arms around his waist, shaking my head at the Lord of the Rings Shirt he was wearing.

"I just washed that shirt and hung it up last night," I scolded him.

Turning his hat backwards, he lowered his forehead to mine, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm snapping again, aren't I?"

I smiled, placing my hands on the sides of his face.

"Yes, baby, you are," slowly sliding my hands up under his shirt. I played with the front of the waistband of his joggers, feeling his tummy sink in from being so ticklish. He chuckled, jerking his body away from me, but I gathered his shirt in my hands and pulled him back into me. That's when his lips found mine, colliding ever so gently. They were wet and warm, and tasted like the recent Celsius he'd just had.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"For which part?"

He scowled at me, confused.

"For being grumpy or the shirt?"

Matt laughed, giving me a quick kiss.

"Both."

"You owe those guys over there more of an apology. You've been horrible to them today. Are you listening to me?"

"Yup, I am," he assured me. But the way he scooped me up into his arms, leaning over me and attaching his lips to my neck, I knew he wasn't.

"Matthew, stop!" I squealed, trying to get out of his clutches. "Let me go!"

"It's Matt, and no," he groaned, letting his head fall to my chest as I continued to wiggle out of his embrace. "I'm not letting you go. Ever."

The more I wiggled, the more he tightened his grip and my leg got caught up in his, tripping me, and causing me to fall. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the hard impact, only to meet a soft body beneath me and a slight bump to the floor. I looked down and saw Matt beneath me.

"Shit, baby!"

"I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm good." He stared up at me, smiling.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Positive," he assures me, reaching up and pulling me into his lips. He kissed me slow, taking his time to let me feel every move he made.

"Mmm, that... I like that."

He grinned. "I like, you. A lot."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," I joked, leaning in and kissing him again, feeling him smile against my lips.

Matt sat up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his lap. I rested my arms on his shoulders, staring into his eyes.

"You're really pretty, you know that?"

"Oh, so you can give compliments. Shocking!"

"Shut-up! God," he shook his head laughing. "Your sarcasm's going to kill me one day. And what the hell, I'm trying to be nice here!"

Matt tickled my sides, making me laugh hysterically.

"I love you," he said, kissing my forehead.

Wrapping myself up in his arms, I snuggle into Matt, burying my face in his chest. His heart was beating fast, telling me he was happy; that I made him happy.

"I love you, too, Matthew," I replied, grinning.

"It's Matt."

#matt dierkes fanfiction #matt dierkes #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction

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lumpywhump · 10 hours

Note

Whump idea I had.

Organ theft but Whumpee is awake for it. Bonus if they are afraid of needles or medical procedures

Tw: blood

"one two three all eyes on me! Okay kids," whumper clapped. "For our lab we got Subject 188236. Everyone say "hi Subject 188236!"

"...hi subject 188326..." whumper was the most insufferable professor on campus.

muffled cries called from the steel table. Whumpee squinted at the harsh lights, so they could see the people around them. Students in white lab coats and goggles watched them from every corner of their field of vision.

"Today you get no instructions. You'll tell me what to do, and I'll be your arms. We are harvesting it's heart." Whumper looked around, "Student A, how do we start?

"Like are we assuming everything is set up for us to just start cutting?"

whumper nodded.

"Then you need to make a 6-8 inch incision on the chest wall,"

"Perfect,"

Whumpee whimpered as whumper pressed their scalpel to whumpee's chest.

"Based off this subjects size, Student B, how big of an incision should I make?"

"Uhh, I wanna say somewhere between seven and eight?"

"Okay then, I'll go right in the middle,"

whumpee cried out as the teacher slowly ripped open their chest, blood collecting around the cut. Their breath quickened, but relief poured through them as whumper withdrew their tool.

"Oh no! Looks like our subject is panicking, I can't accurately open their chest like this. What do we do now?"

"Have someone nearby calm them down?" Student A answered.

"Student D, your turn,"

"The best way to calm them down is with assurance and distractions. May I?"

"All yours,"

Whumpee felt someone touch their head. They flinched, their chest throbbing worse with the motion.

"hey, it's okay, you're doing well so far, but it's going to hurt more if you don't calm down,"

All whumpee really heard was hurt more. Their eyes watered, stinging their dry eyes.

Student D retreated away, knowing they made things worse.

"it's okay, we all make mistakes. Student E? Wanna give it a shot?"

A hand covered Whumpee's eyes. They reached to pull the hand away, scared by the sudden darkness, but their hands were still restrained. Another hand began to massage their temples. And man, this was probably the nicest thing someone has done in a while. The newer people tended to be kinder. Whumpee couldn't help but relax, in fact, they almost fell asleep.

"good job," whumper whispered, making sure not to disturb whumpee. "Keep going,"

Whumpee whined as Whumper finished the cut, but they relaxed again when Student E begins trailing their nails along whumpee's buzzed scalp.

"what's next?"

"ethh ate," whumpee mumbled with the gag tied around their head.

"what was that?" Whumper asked. Whumpee moved their jaw, referencing the gag.

"Now," whumper returned to their normal speaking volume. "You really shouldn't ever do this, because sometimes subjects are prone to biting or saying things that they really shouldn't, but 188236 tends to be good. When you all work in this industry, you'll learn when it is and isn't okay to do this."

Whumpee felt hands grab the gag and pull it down.

"what did you say?"

"Next you open the breast plate, then the ribs, disconnect the heart from the arteries, blah blah blah. Please, I'm tired, just please get this over with." Their tears wetted Student E's hand. the hands released whumpee's head.

"Whumper... I don't think I can do this,"

Whumper sighed. "And this is my fault. This is another reason we don't normally remove the gag...... why don't we stop for today? We can do this again next class." Whumper smiled at their students.

Once whumper was left alone with whumpee, they turned to them. "Looks like you get off easy today huh?"

whumpee didn't respond.

"Let's wrap your chest so you don't get blood everywhere,"

#whump #whumpee #whump tropes #whumper #lab whump #medical whump #vivisection #multiple whumpers #drabble #whump drabble

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starlightscarsyt · 20 hours

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Arturo & Felicity's Relationship - An Analysis

Smol Arturo & Felicity relationship analysis just based upon what DT Dev has said about Felicity + what we've heard of them from Chapter 2.

SPOILS DOWN BELOW, SO BE READY.

•Felicity is confirmed to be 3-4 years younger than Arturo. Even though Arturo thinks he's 18 right now, he's mostly likely in his 20s. But let's go off the basis that he was 18 when Felicity had died. That means that she was roughly 14-15 when she committed suicide. On top of that, it was mentioned that she was very insecure of herself and adored Arturo a lot. This might mean that Arturo was her only source of comfort in this world.

•The Giles family, from what we've gathered from Arturo, is very clearly unstable. Arturo spent the last 6+ years of his life studying plastic surgery, and honestly, his parents might be the reason for it. Because no 12 year old would willingly put themself in that position. With having an unstable environment, Felicity clinged to Arturo heavily, because he was the only safety she had left in the household. She probably wanted so desperately to stay with him. Because their parents terrified her. She felt like she was always in danger…except when Arturo was with her. With Arturo, he says "How is it my fault that I wanted to live my own life?!" which indicates that he didn't feel safe in his home either. He wanted to leave so badly. He wanted an escape. And for whatever reason…he couldn't/didn't take Felicity with him to have her escape too.

•While we can't say for certain how Arturo truly felt about Felicity, since it seems like his feelings are sort of sporadic, from can be gathered is the following. He probably did love her. Because the secret of "Your sister committed suicide because of you. You never should have left." never would have made him so angry and upset. The guilt is eating him alive. He doesn't want to believe it. And even with J mentioning that Arturo wanted a brother instead of a sister, we don't know how true that is. It could have been his admiration for J & Mariabella taking over. It could've been the trauma he was trying to repress. He doesn't want to remember Felicity.

Because he doesn't want to remember the state he saw her in.

#drdt #drdt spoilers #arturo giles #felicity giles

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moodymisty · 1 day

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So I actually have a 'Uriel Ventris has a kid' story written, If this goes well I'll post more.

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Taking in the scene before him, there was only one thought in Roboute Guilliman's mind; This is all Belisarius Cawl's fault.

He was over 10 millennia old and he had seen some of the worst things the Galaxy had to offer, from competition from other species, betrayal by his own brothers, and the eldritch Tumors called Gods. He didn't believe that anything could surprise him anymore.

And yet, here he was sitting dumbstruck before a baseline woman, three of his sons, and a tiny human who seemed to be the only one enjoying all of this.

He cleared his throat, "So, ma'am, can you care to explain how you ended up having your charge?" He pointed at the little boy, only for said child to pipe up, "My name is Apollo!"

The woman's cheeks coloured despite her dark complexion, "I apologize on his behalf my lord, he does not know what he is saying." The boy was about to speak up, only for his mother to put her hand over his mouth, muffling his voice.

"Yes, now about young Apollo here." Guilliman continued, a part of him wanted to laugh at the small child's antics, but he had a job to do.

Isadore composed herself, she was in front of a primarch, she cannot disappoint him, especially for Apollo's sake.

"Lord Belisarius Cawl had recruited me to assist on a project, and as my family considered it a great honor, I went with him. I assumed that I would be a servant in his lab, cleaning up after his experiments. However, it seemed that he had a different idea in mind."

Her blush deepened, the implications making everyone uncomfortable.

Roboute wanted very badly to smack Cawl for tricking her in such a way. "I see, do you know who his father is?"

Isadore shifted in her seat, "I was not privy to much of the details of the experiment, but from what I could gather, his father was an astartes from the Ultramarines Chapter."

She really didn't know what else to say, before being fooled by Cawl, she was a rather simple seamstress from an Agriworld. She wasn't considered particularly beautiful either, with plain brown hair, eyes, and skin. A bit taller than average, which was her only stand out feature, but that was cancelled out by her rather ugly freckles marrying her face and body.

Never in her life did she think that she would have a child fathered by an Astartes, for one, she thought that it would be impossible for Space Marines to father children at all.

"I see," the primarch's eye seemed to develop a twitch, he didn't realise that when he gave Cawl the orders to research Primarch virility, he should've been more specific as to where to stop. "We will have the young lad her genetically tested to find his father, then we will regroup and decide how to move forward. Uriel, please escort our guest here to one of the serf quarters so that she may take some rest."

She watched as a tall marine with short, cropped, straight black hair with startling blue eyes nodded and motioned for her to follow him.

She bowed before the primarch and left the room, her child looking up at her curiously.

As they made their way down to the serf quarters, Uriel couldn't help but sneak glances at her, she was beautiful in a down to earth way. Gorgeous chocolate colored hair, clear skin, and deep brown eyes. Her height giving her a matronly aura and her full lips seemed soft.

He tried to push the thoughts away. Their father had recently revealed to them that he was going to give them a choice to have offspring to bolster the Imperium's numbers of neophytes.

He didn't know how to feel about that, but as part of this decision, marines were made to go through intense hypno brainwashing to return to them their more base urges.

Uriel hated how they made him feel like an out of control animal. He didn't like not having full control of his thoughts. Besides, the last thing the poor woman would want is to be harassed by astartes when she had already gone through so much.

He secretly admitted to himself that any astartes who fathered her child was a lucky man.

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

This is basically how the story would go, as Isadore and Uriel grow closer to each other and some shocking reveals as to whose soul Apollo has in him.

Also, yes, Uriel has a thing for Milfs. Isadore has low self esteem as she wasn't considered attractive in her culture, and Cawl only saw her as an acceptable carrier for astartes children.

So, yeah, tell me how you guys feel about this.

added your second post to this one so it's all together <3

the 'i don't know the father' mystery! it's a classic XD and poor guilliman having yet another weird thing to deal with on top of all the other weird things in 42m XD

#reply

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elysiaheaven · 2 days

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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲-𝟮𝟰-(The Fox's Wedding)

Mentions of beheading-( threats for now) ,etc,gore

Words:2489

Jiaoqiu sat beside you in the dim, cold cell, his hand still gently holding your trembling wrists. The silence between you was heavy, but it was only broken by your quiet sobs. He looked at you, his heart aching, desperate to understand the source of your pain. He couldn't stand seeing you like this—so broken, so lost in your own darkness.

"Y/N..." he whispered softly, his voice barely audible. "Tell me. Please, tell me what happened. I need to understand."

His question hit you like a blade, and suddenly, the walls you had built around your past began to crumble. Your hands shook as you gripped the edge of your torn clothes, feeling like they were suffocating you. You looked at him with wide, terror-filled eyes, shaking your head. "No... no... you don't want to know. I'm—I'm evil, Jiaoqiu," you choked out, your voice cracking as the words tore from your throat. "I'm a monster. I deserve this."

Jiaoqiu's eyes filled with sorrow and confusion. He couldn't understand how you could believe something so cruel about yourself. "What are you talking about? You're not evil, Y/N. How could you—"

"Stop!" you screamed, clutching your head as memories from the past surged like a flood, drowning you. "I killed... I killed them, Jiaoqiu!" Your voice cracked as you sobbed, shaking uncontrollably. "It's my fault... I deserve to die!"

Jiaoqiu's breath caught in his throat. "Killed who? What are you talking about? You... you protected people, didn't you? That'swhat he sounded like..." His voice faltered as he tried to piece it together.

But you were beyond reason now, lost in the twisted, painful echoes of your past. "It was me! I was supposed to save them! But I failed. I let them die, all of them. The village... everyone trusted me, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't save anyone. I killed his brother... I thought I was doing the right thing, but all I did was bring more death!"

Your voice rose in a raw, agonized scream. "I deserve this pain! I deserve to die, Jiaoqiu! Please, kill me... just end this. Save Feixiao. She deserves a life unlike me. You all do!"

Jiaoqiu's eyes widened in shock as he knelt in front of you, his hands on your shoulders, trying to calm your shaking form. "Y/N, listen to me!" he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "Feixiao, she...We all need you. You didn't kill anyone, not like that. You're not the monster you think you are. Please, don't say this. You're not alone in this."

But you couldn't stop the overwhelming tide of guilt and self-loathing that consumed you. You were trembling violently now, barely able to breathe. "You have to kill me, Jiaoqiu," you whispered, your voice breaking as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. "Please, just... do it. Hoolay will keep hurting you. I don't deserve to live. You'll all be better off without me."

Jiaoqiu's grip on you tightened, and he pulled you into his chest, cradling you against him as you cried, his heart breaking with every sob that escaped you. "I'm not going to kill you, Y/N. Never. I won't let Hoolay's lies destroy you. You're stronger than this, stronger than him. I won't let you give up on yourself."

You cried harder, the weight of his words crashing over you like a tidal wave. He held you tightly, refusing to let you fall into the abyss of your despair. "We're getting out of this," Jiaoqiu whispered fiercely. "You're not dying here. Not today. Not ever. I won't let you."

You sat there, shaking, staring into nothingness as you began to tell Jiaoqiu the truth—the truth you had buried so deep inside, it had taken this nightmare with Hoolay to force it out. The cold of the prison walls seemed to disappear as you became lost in your memories, pulling at the tangled threads of a past you had almost forgotten.

"There was a village," you started, your voice hoarse, as if the words were choking you. "A hidden village, secret but known... One of the Luofu ships... They weren't supposed to be there, but people—spirits—they lived there anyway, helping other ships by trading goods. It was like... a place where the lost people, the forgotten souls, came together."

Jiaoqiu's hand tightened on yours as you spoke, but he remained silent, listening intently.

"There was a leader," you continued, your eyes glossing over as the images filled your mind. "A foxian with nine tails... Eiji. He was... beloved, the perfect leader. He was always around, laughing with everyone, eating with the villagers... no one questioned him. We were all spirits, or... we thought we were."

You paused, swallowing hard, feeling your heart pound painfully in your chest as the memories resurfaced. "No one remembered their past. Not me, not anyone. I was just... a baker. I ran a small restaurant where everyone came to eat, even the Cloud Knights. They'd come from other ships, and we'd feed them. It was... a happy life. Or so I thought."

Jiaoqiu was watching you closely now, his eyes darkening with concern, but you couldn't stop. The story had to come out.

"One day..." You faltered, your hand shaking as you reached for your stomach, as if you could still feel the pain. "I got burned. Just a small burn while cooking. But... spirits aren't supposed to get hurt. I didn't know what it meant, but I... I started to remember things. Little flashes. Pieces of something... someone else."

Your voice cracked, and Jiaoqiu gently squeezed your hand, his silent way of urging you to continue.

"Then, Hoolay's brother came. A monster," you whispered, your voice trembling. "He threatened us, demanded food, threatened our peace... Everyone believed they were safe because they were spirits. They thought nothing could hurt them. But Eiji... he knew. He knew the truth. He asked some of us—chefs like me—to cook for the monsters. To feed them so they wouldn't hurt us. But those chefs... they never came back."

You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears. "I didn't understand why... but I had these memories. Flashes of talking to someone—a friend. I remembered... I was good at poisons. So I made a decision. I cooked the food, but I added the poison."

Jiaoqiu's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't interrupt.

"Hoolay's brother... he ate the food, and when he realized he was dying, he... he almost killed me. He slashed my stomach open." You gestured to your abdomen, the phantom pain making your breath hitch. "But... spirits don't get hurt."

"I blacked out. And when I did... I remembered everything."

Your voice broke as the weight of the truth crashed down on you. "I wasn't a spirit. None of us were. We were people... kidnapped, brainwashed by Eiji. He erased our pasts, gave us new lives, new stories, to fit his perfect little world. We were puppets, living in harmony... But it was all a lie. And I... I broke free of his spell."

Jiaoqiu's face was pale, his eyes filled with horror as the truth sank in. "You... you weren't just a chef," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "You were the one who stopped Hoolay's brother."

You nodded, tears falling freely now. "I killed him. I thought I was saving the village. But when Eiji realized I was no longer under his control, he spread rumors. He told everyone I was the one who aided the monsters. He made them believe I had betrayed them, that I was the one responsible for the deaths."

You broke down, burying your face in your hands. "I don't deserve to live, Jiaoqiu. I killed his brother... I betrayed the village... I'm a monster, just like them."

Jiaoqiu pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you sobbed against his chest. "No," he whispered fiercely. "You're not a monster. You were trying to protect them... you were manipulated, controlled... just like everyone else."

But the guilt and shame had wrapped themselves around your heart like chains, pulling you deeper into despair. "I deserve to die... for everything I've done."

The memories spilled out of you like a flood, the weight of the truth seemed almost unbearable. But there was one part of it that, as dark and twisted as it was, had given you a grim satisfaction. You wiped your tear-streaked face with trembling hands, and your voice turned cold as you began to speak again.

"Killing him... Hoolay's brother," you whispered, your voice hollow. "It was the best part."

Jiaoqiu looked at you, shocked, his arms still around you but tense now as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"He deserved it," you continued, your eyes distant, fixated on some invisible scene only you could see. "After all the pain he caused... the suffering... the torment, I didn't just poison him to stop him. When I knew he was dying, when I saw the life drain from his eyes, I didn't stop there."

You lifted your gaze to Jiaoqiu, your eyes filled with a mix of darkness and regret. "I beheaded him."

The words felt like venom on your tongue, bitter but true. "I wanted to make sure he could never come back. Never hurt anyone else. I watched him writhe in agony, watched him choke on his last breath. Then I took his head. It was... satisfying."

Jiaoqiu swallowed hard, his grip on you loosening as he processed your confession. His face was pale, but his eyes remained steady, filled with a mixture of shock and pain.

You let out a bitter laugh, one that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside you—somewhere dark. "That's how Hoolay would kill me if he wanted to. I know it. He would do it the same way I killed his brother. He'd take my head, and he'd enjoy every second of it."

Jiaoqiu's face twisted with sorrow as you spoke, his hands gently holding your shoulders as if trying to pull you back from the edge. "Y/n...," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're not that person. You didn't have a choice."

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time it was not from guilt, but from the overwhelming weight of the truth. "But I did have a choice, Jiaoqiu. I could've stopped with the poison, but I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to be the one to end him, and I did. And now... Hoolay wants me to pay the same price. I deserve it."

"No." Jiaoqiu shook his head, his voice firm despite the pain in his eyes. "You don't deserve to die like that. What you did... it wasn't out of cruelty. It was survival. You were protecting them, protecting yourself. Don't let Hoolay convince you that you're the monster here. He's the one who deserves to pay."

"The monsters... they killed them all," you started, your voice hoarse. "Hoolay's brother was just the beginning. After I killed him, the rest of them came. The borisin—they wanted revenge, and when they couldn't find me... Eiji..." You choked on his name, your fists clenching. "Eiji handed over the entire village. All those people, the ones I thought were my family... he gave them away just to save himself."

Jiaoqiu's eyes were wide with disbelief, horror etched across his face. "Eiji? The village leader... he sacrificed them?"

You nodded, your body shaking with the weight of your confession. "He was a coward. He couldn't find me because I had hidden myself away after I killed Hoolay's brother. So, he made a deal—he gave the villagers to the monsters. All of them. They died believing the lie he had crafted for them, thinking they were spirits, that they couldn't be hurt. But as they died... they realized the truth. That everything they had ever known was fake, a fantasy created by Eiji. They had families, memories, lives outside the village... all stolen from them. And when they died, they knew."

The agony in your voice was almost unbearable as you recalled the sight of those innocent people falling, one after another, as the borisin ravaged the village. "I watched them die, Jiaoqiu. Every single one. I couldn't save them. I couldn't stop it."

"My daughter, I wanted to buy her..that kite! Why am I here!?"

"I promised my beloved...I would return...I can't die..Why did I forget about him?"

Jiaoqiu's hand reached for you, but you pushed him away, the guilt and horror too much to bear. "You don't understand. I found Eiji after that. I found him hiding, shaking, and begging for his life. He said... he said that he had done it to protect us. That the villagers would have died eventually, so there was no harm in what he did."

You spat the words, the anger and hatred still burning within you. "He said he just wanted a family, that he was a lonely spirit, just like the rest of us. He cursed me, Jiaoqiu. He cursed me to understand his pain. He said I would be just like him—forever alone, forever hated, a monster in the eyes of the world."

You shuddered, your fingers gripping your own arms so tightly they left marks. "And then... he tried to kill me. He had a sword, one that could hurt spirits, and he stabbed me with it. But I didn't die. All the curses, all the pain I had endured—it changed me. I became something else. Not a god, but something worse. A spirit of vengeance, a cursed existence."

Your voice cracked as you continued. "I killed him, Jiaoqiu. Slowly. I made him suffer. I tormented him until he couldn't even scream anymore. And when he was finally dead, I... I turned to stone. Locked away by the Luofu, forgotten by everyone except Jingliu."

Jiaoqiu's hand tightened on your shoulder, but you couldn't stop now. "Jingliu knew the truth. She wrote a letter to Jing Yuan, but Hoolay must have intercepted it, twisted the truth. Jing Yuan... he thinks I'm a monster. Just like everyone else."

You sobbed, your tears falling uncontrollably. "I failed. I couldn't save anyone. Not the village, not the children... They died right in front of me, and all I could do was watch."

Jiaoqiu's face was pale, his heart breaking as he listened to your story. "Y/n... I'm so sorry."

But his words couldn't reach you. The weight of the past, the endless pain and suffering, was too much. You couldn't stop the tears, the cries that escaped your throat as you clutched your chest, feeling like the world was collapsing around you.

"I killed them all, Jiaoqiu! I killed them with my weakness. I deserve to die. I deserve to suffer. I couldn't save them, I couldn't save anyone!"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" He shouted.

"If I did...?! You wouldn't killed me! You wouldn't have consider me an option My soul could cure! I thought If I remind as that person the history made me out to be..You would have killed me easily with no regrets..I wouldn't mind it.."

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr x reader #hsr jiaoqiu #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu hsr #jiaoqiu

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lilsoftext · 14 hours

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•~*BETWEEN THE FLASHES*~•

- chris sturniolo x female reader

- summery: spotted by paparazzi

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In the back seat, Chris had his hand casually resting on Sof’s thigh. They weren’t official to the public yet, but behind the scenes, their relationship had deepened over the past few months. Sof leaned into Chris slightly, feeling his warmth as they laughed along with the conversation. Nick was in the front passenger seat, joking about the latest meme he’d seen on TikTok, while Matt, sitting next to Sof, was quieter than usual. He stole a few glances at Chris’s hand on Sof’s thigh, feeling a pang of something deeper—something that twisted his insides.

Matt looked out the window, pretending not to notice, but when his eyes caught Chris’s, it was clear his brother had picked up on his discomfort. Chris didn’t say anything, but he held Sof a little closer, as if to silently remind Matt that they were together. The car was filled with laughter and chatter, mostly from Chris and Nick, but underneath it, Matt couldn’t help but feel the weight of what was unspoken.

Madison, sitting on the other side of Matt, was oblivious to the tension between the brothers. She was scrolling through her phone, catching up on some social media drama, and occasionally chiming in with her own witty remarks.

"We should’ve just ordered takeout," Matt muttered under his breath, half-joking.

Chris smirked but didn't respond directly. "Nah, we needed a night out. Plus, Madison’s got a reputation to uphold, right?" he teased, nudging Sof.

Madison rolled her eyes with a smile. "You’re not wrong. Gotta keep the fans fed."

They pulled up to the restaurant, and as the car came to a stop, the flashes started. The paparazzi were already waiting. Dozens of cameras, all poised to capture the next big moment, fired off their bright flashes like fireworks. Sof’s heart sank a little—she hated the attention, and even though she knew dating Chris came with this kind of baggage, she wasn’t prepared for it tonight. Especially with things between them not being public yet.

As they got ready to step out, Matt acted quickly. He opened the door on Sof’s side and extended his hand to help her out. Sof, slightly surprised but grateful for the gesture, took it. The cameras caught the moment instantly, and in a flurry of clicks, Matt helping Sof out of the car was frozen in time.

For a second, everything seemed to slow down. Chris, stepping out of the car on the other side, saw the moment and felt a brief flicker of something between jealousy and understanding. He knew Matt had been struggling with his feelings for Sof, and while Chris was never one to doubt his brother’s loyalty, moments like this made everything a little more complicated.

As Sof stood up, Chris smoothly walked around the car, his arm instinctively slipping around her waist. The paparazzi went wild, the flashes intensifying. Sof’s breath caught in her throat—this was bold, even for Chris. She wasn’t used to this kind of public display, especially since they hadn’t officially revealed their relationship. She looked up at him, her expression a mixture of surprise and confusion, but Chris just smiled softly at her, his hand firm around her waist as they made their way inside the restaurant.

---

Inside, the air was cooler, the chaos of the paparazzi outside left behind, but Sof couldn’t shake her unease. They sat at a corner table, the restaurant buzzing with life around them, but Sof barely touched her drink. Chris noticed, leaning over to her.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his hand brushing hers under the table.

Sof forced a small smile. “Yeah… it’s just… a lot, you know?”

Chris nodded, squeezing her hand gently. “I know. I’m sorry about that out there. I didn’t think it would be that intense.”

Sof shook her head. “It’s not your fault. I just… hate that it’s like this. I wasn’t ready for them to see us, and now with the photos...”

Matt, sitting across the table, glanced at them every now and then, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He could see the tension between Sof and Chris, and part of him felt guilty. He had reached out to help Sof, but the way the cameras caught it probably made things worse.

After a tense hour of quiet conversation and forced smiles for Madison’s jokes, they decided to call it a night. As they left the restaurant, the paparazzi were still waiting, but the trip back to the SUV was less chaotic than before. Once they were in the car, the mood shifted. Sof stared out the window, lost in her thoughts, while Chris kept his arm around her, sensing her frustration but unsure how to fix it.

The ride home was filled with silence. Even Nick, usually the loudest, sensed the weird energy and kept his phone up, scrolling through Instagram without saying much. They dropped Madison off at her place first, waving her goodbye as she hopped out of the car.

Once they were back at the triplets’ house, Matt, Nick, Sof, and Chris all stepped inside. Sof still looked uneasy, and Chris couldn’t take it anymore. As soon as they were in the hallway, he pulled her aside.

“I know tonight was crazy,” he started, his voice soft but firm, “but we can’t keep doing this. The guessing, the rumors… it’s not fair to you.”

Sof sighed, looking down. “It’s not just about the rumors, Chris. I didn’t expect things to get so... public so fast. And then with the photos—people are gonna start asking questions.”

Chris cupped her face gently, lifting her chin so she’d look at him. “So let them. Tomorrow, we’ll tell everyone. I’m not hiding you anymore. I don’t care what anyone says. I want people to know that you’re with me.”

Sof’s heart fluttered at his words, but the anxiety still lingered. She glanced at Matt, who was lingering in the living room with Nick, trying not to look over, but clearly deep in thought.

“Matt…,” she started, but Chris shook his head slightly.

“I know. I’ve seen it. But that’s for me and him to figure out. I’m not losing you over this,” Chris said firmly.

Sof nodded, and Chris kissed her forehead gently, leading her upstairs to his room.

Later that night, when everyone had gone to bed, Sof still couldn’t sleep. She lay in Chris’s arms, her head resting on his chest, feeling his steady breathing. Her thoughts were racing—about the night, about the paparazzi, about the complicated dynamics with Matt. Chris sensed her restlessness and shifted, leaning up slightly.

“You’re overthinking again,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I can’t help it,” Sof admitted. “What if things get worse after tomorrow? What if... people start saying things? About Matt, about us...”

Chris moved, positioning himself over her, looking down into her eyes with a calm confidence. “Let them talk,” he whispered. “At the end of the day, it’s me and you. Nothing else matters.”

His weight was comforting, and Sof felt her anxiety begin to melt away. Chris kissed her gently, his lips soft against hers, and soon they both drifted into a peaceful sleep, wrapped up in each other, the world and its noise fading away for just a little while longer.

TOO BE CONTINUED…..

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part 2 is coming tomorrow. don’t miss it. of if you have any requests leave them down below because I don’t have any ideas anymore.

lilsoftext<3

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