#Chris I know being a manager is frustrating. You are one of the better ones I’ve had in that I don’t feel like I have to avoid you

[emmebearpaw]

not going to get over how yesterday at work I was told by my department lead, “if you guys need any help (we had someone call out and were thus Understaffed as hell), try asking the managers again. They didn’t send anyone earlier but they might now” and well we were looking like we were going to fall behind so I called over the radio,

“Hey can we get any help to the in store shopping department?” I then had to run out to go bring out an order so it’s possible I missed it but as far as I am aware I got no response.

5-10 frustrating minutes later, I’m on the verge of crying but have sort of pulled it together and ask over the radio yet again, “Can we please get any help to the in store shopping department?”, clearly verbally frustrated but like hey.

anyways cut to 30 seconds later when the store manager storms into our back room and says. And I’m not kidding. “Asking again over the radio but more frustrated isn’t going to get you anyone to help. We don’t have anyone to spare until the closer comes in at 3pm (it’s like. 2pm. For some reason we have anyone in any other department cross train to be able to help so it’s just the managers that help..) interrupt him and say “the closer comes in at 4.” because our closer comes in at 4pm. He then explains with a huff that he means another manager and maybe josh (another manager) could come in an hour to help.

Anyways Josh walks in not 20 seconds later and starts getting ready to help us.

Hey. Hey Chris? You were just straight up wrong. Not only is being verbally frustrated over the radio a great way to get someone to WALK OVER WITH THEIR HUMAN LEGS AND VERBALLY RESPOND instead of just not saying anything, it literally got us help faster.

[b2cute]

What’s your problem?

rough dom!matt x fem!reader

notes: this is my first smut so please lmk your thoughts!! send any requests ☁️

warnings: obv smut, degrading, pet names, fem receiving, p in v, cover it before you smother it,chocking, slapping, arguing, angst to smut to fluff, i think that’s all

enjoy 😊

word count: 2,460

*y/n’s pov*

*beep beep beep*

the loud sound coming from beside me causes me to jolt up and widen my eyes. i check the time.

3:46 a.m.

i stormed back into matt’s room after an argument we had. nick and i went out for dinner at boa and i came home to a cranky boyfriend that decided to his take anger out on me. instead of fixing the issue, we both agreed to ignore eachother for the rest of the night.

i go on my phone for about 20 minutes before my stomach growled at me. i decided to head over to the kitchen and fix up some cereal.

“look who decided to show their face to world! everyone welcome y/n to earth” matt snarks sitting at the dining table, paralleling the kitchen. i roll my eyes at the comment he made considering chris and nick went to sleepover at madi’s house leaving the house to just us.

“don’t be a brat just because you exhausted yourself in my bedroom.”

again. what is up with these rude comments?

“seriously matthew, can you act normal for 5 fucking seconds? you turned twenty months ago, act like it and quit being immature” i snap. my stomach gurgling louder as i pour cinnamon toast crunch in a bowl. i reach for the milk in the refrigerator and pour it into the bowl as i join matt across the dining room chair he’s sitting in.

silence

i bring my knees up to my chest as i eat the cereal looking up at the light flashing from my hand as i scroll endlessly on my phone. matt continues journaling and i can’t help but notice his veins appearing through his arm as he wrote quickly. his black tank top and gray sweats don’t help my imaginations, but i quickly snap out of them considering he’s being an asshole.

“hmm, so you have an attitude and staring a problem y/n?”

that’s was my final straw. i quickly slam the now empty cereal bowl into the sink and practically sprint upstairs to nicks bedroom and slam the door. i wasn’t going to spend another second with him until he sorted himself out.

i crawled into nicks silk sheets and bring the blanket up to my chest. i stayed in the bedroom with my back turned from the door. i wasn’t crying. i was frustrated. but that’s the thing with matt. he never admits he’s wrong.

*matts pov*

*slam*

she was being such a brat and i don’t even know why. it was like y/n wanted to get me worked up. i had already gotten into a shitty argument with laura and the managing team about the “lack of effort” i put into videos and her attitude made the situation way worse. i gave her a bit of time before i start to head upstairs. i knock on the door, no answer.

i slowly open the door to see y/n on her phone with her airpods in. she glances at me with an expression i cannot read.

did i seriously mess up that bad? i couldn’t have.

“cmon y/n let’s go to my room and sort this out.”

she takes her airpods out and returns them to the case. “okay.” i walk over to the side of the bed and take her forearm as i guide her downstairs, her following my steps. as i open the door to the room she enters, closing the door behind her and locking it.

*y/n’s pov*

we sit on matt’s bed, facing eachother. i could see his angry expression through his face, but he was trying to hide it.

“look y/n i don’t know what’s up with you, but you need to sort it out, okay? i’ve had a bad day already and your nitpicking isn’t making it any better.”

he’s got to be serious.

“my nitpicking?!” i say raising my voice. “from the second i walked into the door you have shown me nothing but disrespect. you’re being ignorant and selfish matt” my eyes burning from the emotions.

“im not the one who locked themselves in my room to avoid the situation now did i, y/n. now you’re going to get rid of that fucking attitude and quit raising your voice or el-“

“or else what?” i snap, raising my voice even higher.

matt lets out a sigh, almost like an “i told you so” breath. “you asked for it.”

before i could process what he meant, his tattooed covered arm reached to my throat and neck, giving it a squeeze. “you want to act like a fucking slut, then you’re going to take me like a fucking slut.” he growls pinning me to the headboard. his eyes were coated black with a small ring of blue. the hunger on his face growing by the second.

*slap*

“answer me slut, how are you going to take it?”

i was so shocked i didn’t know what to say, but i had to admit, i kinda liked it.

another slap.

“like a slut” i whimpered from the stinging on my left cheek.

“good, you’re going to listen to everything i say and don’t even think about cumming with asking me.”

i nod vigorously.

before i can speak, matt’s lip attach to mine quickly. his tounge explores my mouth as he quickly dominates me. he bites on my bottom lip as he slowly moves to my cheek. then my jaw.

soft moans are leaving my mouth as i tug on his brown locks. “fuck matt just like that” i say squeezing my eyes shut. “yea? you like it when i mark you whore?”

i nod quickly. “use your words or i’ll stop” matt growls between kissing my neck. “yes matt i love it”

i was a moaning mess. matt continued to suck, bite, and lick my neck. he left marks that were going to stay for weeks, maybe even longer.

matt quickly disregards his top and not long after comes to rip mine off. “hm, no bra tonight?” matt smirks before taking my right tit to his mouth. he swirls his tounge around and lightly nibbles it while taking the left and pinching my nipple with his long fingers.

“nnngh it feels so good but i need more matt” i whine underneath him. he pauses his movements and look back at me. “such a needy slut y/n” he replies.

before i could say anything else, he pulls me towards him using while hooking his arms underneath my thighs. matt rips my wide legged sweats off leaving me in just my panties. his face was so close to my throbbing pussy that is could feel his warm breaths on my puffy clit.

“you’re soaked y/n” matt growls.

*slap*

his hand slapped my folds. i let out a pornographic moan from the impact. “who does this pussy belong to?” “you matt, all you”

he chuckled through the whimpers i let out and finally takes my panties off. wasting no time, matt comes in contact with my clit and sucks on it so harshly. his hands came up to my tits, pinching and kneading them.

“mm-matt oh MY GOD” i screech. if he kept this up i would orgasm in no time.

matt stops sucking and lets go of my tits only to use one hand to spread my folds out more and the other hand vigorously rubs my clit.

i started to scream. it felt so good. “MATT UMPH SO GOOD” the knot in my stomach begging to release. “please let me cum” i plead getting hungrier by the second.

“go ahead let it out angel” matt says. with that i quickly release all over the sheets, but this doesn’t stop matt from continuing. “too much matt, i can’t tak-“

“whether you like it or not, you’re going to take it slut. you want to keep arguing with me, this is what you get. shouldn’t have got me so worked up y/n” matt argues. i couldn’t say anything as my swollen clit was getting thrown everywhere.

he finally lets go and i quickly close my legs together. my legs were shaking and i had tears rolling down my cheek. suddenly, i feel matt’s arms separate my legs. “did i fucking say i was done?” i nod my head no, slowly but enough to answer his question. “answer my question y/n”

“n-no you did not” i plead, my eyes and face swollen from the tears due to the overstimulation i was receiving. “yea that’s what i thought”

matt sticks his middle and ring finger into my cunt and wastes no time pumping in and out of me. he lowers his head more as he returns to my clit, nibbling and kissing it. “mmph matt” my hands tug at his messy curls. his eye brows were brushed in every direction and his cheeks were painted with a light pink. he continues pumping into me as my back arches. i was on the verge of passing out due to his movements. i felt his fingers curl up and find my sweet spot.

matt continued to hit my g-spot and i felt the familiar knot return. “C-CLOSE” i whisper being worn out. “hold it.” matt snaps. the blue in his eyes completely disappeared. i couldn’t take it anymore, but i didn’t want it to stop.

matt continues to thrust his fingers into my pussy and rub harshly on my clit as i scream. not taking it anymore, i release all over his fingers.

“didn’t i tell you that you couldn’t cum yet?” matt mumbled. “ c-can’t hold any l-longer” i say as my body is worn out. i feel my body go limp as matt removes his fingers out of my pussy. he gets up and shifts so he’s sitting on the bed. i couldn’t open my eyes but i felt his move up again, this time lifting me up. he places me on his desk chair and throws my legs over each arm chair.

“since you can’t follow simple rules like a good girl, you’re going to take it one more time, and if you don’t hold it, well… i can go all fucking night.” matt snarks. i quickly shoot my eyes open in fear. the thought of going all night sounded intriguing, but i couldn’t even handle two orgasms.

i nod slowly at matt’s remarks and feel his swollen lips come in contact with my neck. his kisses were soft, but passionate. i moan softly at the sudden sensation and my hands reach for his hair one more time. matt begins to slide is gray sweatpants off along with his dark blue boxers. his dick is swollen and his tip was a harsh pink shade, leaking with precum.

with one quick touch, matt slips right into me, considering how wet i was. without letting me adjust matt begins to pound into me. one of his hands crept to my throat giving it a light squeeze while the other hand went to my clit once again rubbing and pinching harshly. “AH i’m t-too sensitive!” i scream my hand quickly trailing to matt’s wrist in attempt to move it away from my lower half. i quickly regret the action when matt’s hand squeezes my throat tighter.

“don’t even think about doing that again” matt says as he continues to push in and out of me. “s-sorry i just can’t take a-anymore” i cry. my face was red and the tears were everywhere. “yes you can. you will.” matt says. after a couple minutes of matt’s actions he lets out a groan. “fuck y/n, i’m close” matt says. both his hands come on either side of the desk chair as he pounds into me. the brown haired boys eyes were screwed shut and his eyebrows furrowed. “m-me too” i manage to say using every last bit of energy in me. “can i please cum matt?” i beg. i’ve been holding it since he began thrusting into me. “do you think you deserve it” matt mumbles. i nod my head quickly before he says “go ahead, cum you whore.”

without waiting any further, i release for the third time that night. matt rails me through my high before he finally reaches his climax. he releases long white strings into my as he removes his cock from inside of me.

finally catching my breath, i feel matt’s present leave the room before he comes back in.

*matts pov*

i return to the room with a towel and water for y/n. she was collapsed on the chair, her legs still spread as both our cums we’re seeping out of her. i walk over and clean her up gently. she winces at the touch and grabs my biceps for support. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. i smirk at her struggle to open her eyes. she mumbles something but it was almost inaudible. “speak up baby” i say as i begin to change the sheets. “can’t move” is all y/n can get out of her soft lips.

i quickly finish putting the new sheets on and throw the old ones in the wash. i walk over to my drawer and take out a pair of my boxers and a ransom t-shirt for y/n. picking her up gently, i place her on the bed and lift her legs up to skips the boxers on. i lift her back up and her head quickly fad on my chest and i attempt to put the t-shirt over her head. after i dress her up i walk over and change into a new pair of boxer and blue plaid pajama pants. i grab my hair brush and walk over to y/n.

“you’re hairs a mess baby let me brush it” i chuckle. y/n lets out a soft hum as i brush her beautiful hair . once im finished, i put the hairbrush on the nightstand and lift the covers as i pick y/n up and slips her underneath them. i plant a kiss on her forehead before walking onto the other side of the bed and getting in.

after a moment of silence y/n mumbles “does this mean your not mad at me anymore?” i let out a laugh before replying to her. “of course i’m not mad at you baby i couldn’t even if i tried.” with that, i grab y/n and she throws her legs and arms over me. her head was snuggled in the crook of my neck and i leaned my face at the top of her head as i plant a kiss there.

“my sweet girl, get some rest my love”

taglist: (comment here to be on it)

@mattsleftnipple03 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @mangoposts @guccifrog @lovingmattysposts @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo @n00dl3zzz

[xprakzif]

LOVE YOU GOODBYE,

matt x fem!reader

summary: when matt’s career gets in the way of his relationship, his girlfriend simply cannot take it anymore. what better way to say goodbye than this?

warnings:: MDNI//SMUT, car sex, overstimulation, raw intercourse, kissing, angst, no happy ending.

“just one more time?”

the chilly breeze of the night rushed in causing both bodies to shiver. her short mini dress with lack of sleeves or a jacket only worsened the setting. the hair around her shoulders wasn’t doing her any favors by warming her up.

her tear stained cheeks illuminated by the street lamps occasionally flickering with him standing in front of her. so majestic yet full of shit, how could he stand there so beautifully after breaking her heart?

“face it, matt. i understand this is your job, i get that and i know you have to do this. you have to go hang out with other girls, you have to film and stream all the time, i know! but even when there’s time you don’t bother..” her heart pounding against her chest feeling like she was slowly sinking. she didn’t mean to come off this way. but it gets tiring after a while.

“i don’t know what you want me to do..” he didn’t even look her way, still looking out into the crowd of bodies that filled his shared home.

“yet you throw a party? shit, this is the closest thing i get to-“

“it wasn’t even my idea, y/n! you swear you get me but you don’t, ‘cause if you did, you’d know i don’t even want any of this! it was chris’s idea to invite some people over—shit, it’s not even a party for real. you always do this.. i’m just as tired as you are, alright?” his sudden outburst snapped a few heart strings, she felt herself breaking down quicker by the second.

the booming voices made her racing heart only beat faster. maybe she’s the problem. maybe her leaving would solve his worries, cut back the stress he’s dealing with.

“okay..” she whispered, face heating up as her eyes burned with tears. she continuously swallowed the nerves in her throat but nothing could stop the pain in her heart right now.

she moved through the room trying to find an escape, an exit. haven’t even noticed she let loose and sobbed, ruining her eye makeup.

finally reaching the front door, she stepped out trying to slam the door behind her, but something was in the way.

“cmon, y/n..” matt took ahold of her arm, which she ripped out of his grip to walk off.

from an outsiders point of view, it’d look like he was chasing her. her heels clicking against the cement as she made her way to her car parked a bit far from their house.

“please- wait!”

getting to her car, she finally spun around,

“no, matt! i’m done- with you, with us.. i’m sorry.” she managed to get out. he took in her figure underneath the glooming street lamp. it looked like a scene from a movie.

“what..?”

“i’m sorry.. i don’t wanna be in the way of your career anymore–please don’t convince me otherwise..”

he stood shut, a part of him knew she was right.

he felt his heart tense up as if it were being squeezed. thought they were both going through such heartbreak, neither of them could help but admire the other.

after all, she was his–or atleast used to be. it wasn’t unlikely for him to lust over her, now just wasn’t the right time.

both of them couldn’t deny how sexually frustrated they were. she was right, matt hadn’t spent enough time with her. neither of them were disloyal, so the days added on and on.

he couldn’t help but realize her beauty, even with eyeliner and mascara running down her stained cheeks. if anything it only made her more exquisite.

him standing there, dark purple bags under his eyes from the lack of rest he had gotten these past weeks, his bright blue eyes looking up and down her body. she felt the need as much as he did.

his slow steps toward her made her head spin. he placed a delicate hand to her cheek, caressing it while he looked into her eyes.

“just.. one more time?” he whispered. “as a goodbye..”

there was no need for context when they both knew what that meant. she grabbed the back of his neck, drawing him closer to smash his lips onto hers.

the world around them paused, no care for the party that was going on just a few houses away.

struggling by reaching in her purse, she searched with her hand for her car key unlocking it in the process. the lights flashing for a second took matt’s attention to pull open the backseat door; pushing their bodies onto the cushioning of the seats.

she laid on her back, matt crawling on top of her after closing the door. it was such a cramp space but neither seemed to care too much.

he reconnected their lips to move in synchrony, their hands roaming each others body.

“matt-” she whispered breathlessly, tugging at his hair.

his touch grazed over the thin fabric of her mini dress, trailing down to grip onto her hips. the opposite hand pulling up the material over her waist, revealing her lacey panties.

her hands began unbuckling his belt and undoing his baggy jeans. somehow, he’d shifted them so she was now straddling his lap.

he trailed his hands down to her hips, once again holding onto them while they moved with rhythm, grinding onto his crotch.

“fuckkk– y/n..” he dragged out.

the car filled with heavy breathing and the smacking sound of lips, causing the windows to fog. matt was sat up, back against he car door. she felt the stiffness in his pants through her panties that were damp and sticky.

breaking the kiss, she reached down to tug the fabric down her legs; it was difficult in such an awkward position, but her eagerness made it happen.

he watched her with gleaming eyes as if she were a display of art in a museum. pulling down his jeans, including his boxers, he freed his hardened cock that sprung up.

she aligned her entrance with his length, sinking down slowly; she gasped. he sucked in air between his teeth, seething at the feeling of her tightness gripping around him.

she was swallowing him whole as her hips dove lower to collect him fully into her.

“keep going— that’s it-ahh, take it all..” he groaned and she was fully sat with him deep inside her.

she began rolling her hips forward, reconnecting their lips in the process. the kiss was sloppy. her mouth opening constantly to let out breathless moans from bouncing on his cock.

it sounded like they just ran a marathon with the amount of heavy breathing. he tried his best to buck his hips upward to feel her deeper inside.

“fuck!–so deep—nngh- need to–”

he took everything in his power to thrust deeper and harder with a quickened pace to bring her closer.

she threw her head back with pleasure, clenching around his base as her orgasm washed over her.

“matt–ma– ah–“ she stammered out while she stiffened up with trembling thighs, digging her nails into his shoulders.

he wasn’t far behind her. groaning while slamming up into her, she was caught in a trance by the overstimulation.

“ohmy– nngh—fuckkk, i love y-you–i lov–” he echoed into the car, shooting white ropes of his seed into her painting her slimy walls.

there was a ring of a bubbly, white substance around his cock, a mix of both of there liquids.

they panted trying to come down from their highs. she felt a pang in her chest; the sudden realization hit and hit hard.

this was it. the last dance.

she started to remove her self from him,

“wai-wait. don’t leave yet.” he helped her off, “it’s late, y/n. just stay the night, please.”

she thought for a minute. he was right, though they weren’t aware of the current time, it was late. she thought about the dangers of driving so late on a friday night,

“alright.. fine”

after fixing themselves up, they found their way back to the house. the ‘get together’ the boys were hosting had already died down. no one noticed them slip into matt’s room.

“here,” he handed her one of his larger shirts, "wouldn’t want you sleeping in that..”

“thanks..” she accepted the offer, still feeling hurt with the tension from someone she was once so comfortable with.

she changed, slipped under the covers, and took a deep breath.

he got in right behind her, they were faced away from eachother, she thought.

“y/n?” he whispered, clear enough for her to hear.

“hmm?”

“i love you..” he watched her body expanded with every breath she took. he was facing her the entire time.

“i-i love you too..” she whispered, her voice steady but her eyes brimmed with tears.

the night fell silent. both bodies drifting to sleep after losing energy from their previous actions.

it came morning time quickly, matt shifted in his spot as the sunlight peeked through the curtains.

he recalled being with her last night, joy awakening him. he rolled over to the other empty side of the bed.

empty? this can’t be right, she was here..

he felt like he remembered a bad dream from last night. quickly grabbing his phone to call his girlfriend.

the line rang once.

“you have reached the voicemail box of—“ rang too loud in matt’s ears, he quickly shut it off. his heart began to race.

baby? •!Not Delivered

his mind soon flooded with the memories they shared, then it got to last night.

that wasn’t a dream after all.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other

warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity

mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3

THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH

"FUCK!"

the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.

you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).

you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.

your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.

"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.

“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.

andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)

you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.

remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.

you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”

“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.

“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”

“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.

“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”

chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”

nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”

“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.

“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.

"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.

you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.

chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.

nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).

“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.

“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.

“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.

“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.

matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”

౨ৎ

matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.

he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”

speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.

so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.

but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.

“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.

“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.

he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.

౨ৎ

you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).

when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.

"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."

"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"

you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.

"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.

"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.

"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"

"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"

"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.

"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.

"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.

౨ৎ

matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.

"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"

matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."

"you sure?"

"yes?"

"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.

"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."

"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."

"right," matt offers a light laugh.

he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.

matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."

"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."

"chris-"

"please, matt," he begs.

matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.

matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.

you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.

matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.

"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.

"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.

you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."

"then you must have great style," matt jokes.

"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.

"mhm, sure..."

"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.

"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.

your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."

"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.

"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.

"you said it," he laughs.

now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."

"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."

"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.

and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.

౨ৎ

you hate that matt is still on your mind.

and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.

you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.

and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.

"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.

"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."

matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"

he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"

"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.

"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.

you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).

his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.

"i just need you to take me home."

"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.

"right, i figured, smartass."

"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."

"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.

"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.

you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.

"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.

"fuck you," you say under your breath.

"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.

"are you done?"

"i guess." he shrugs.

"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"

"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."

౨ৎ

"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.

the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"

"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.

matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.

౨ৎ

after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.

you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.

“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.

“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.

matt lets go of you and follows you inside.

you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.

you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”

he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”

“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.

he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.

“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.

matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.

you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.

"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.

"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.

he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”

you whine, “we can’t right here."

"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.

"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.

“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.

“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.

“that’s not fun,” you push.

he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.

“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.

matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”

his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.

he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.

matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.

he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.

you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.

when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.

despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.

you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.

he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.

his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.

matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.

but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.

“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.

“oh? and you want me to…?”

“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.

“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.

you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."

so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.

he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.

matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.

he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.

“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.

he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.

"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.

he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.

you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”

matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.

he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.

matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.

he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.

he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.

he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.

you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.

you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.

he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.

he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”

you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.

matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).

as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.

"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.

"hold it," he huffs.

"can't," you whimper, "just-"

"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.

"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.

he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.

he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.

matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"

you just nod and bite back a smile.

matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.

"c'mere," you tug his hand.

he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.

you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.

until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.

you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.

you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.

"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.

"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"

she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.

"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."

"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.

"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.

andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.

"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.

you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.

matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."

you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."

"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"

"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."

matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.

you both laugh softly before it fizzles.

matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.

it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"

"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.

you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."

he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.

he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”

"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.

he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper

[seunmong-in]

•Midnight sessions & Love Confessions🌙🤍•

Genre: Fluff, best friends to lovers, flirting, slight sass on Chan’s part, cursing (very minimal) Idol!HanxReader 

Words: 1.6K

A/N: This is my first time writing again in almost 5 years... Hopefully, you guys enjoyed this as much as I did!! If you guys want to see more of this please reblog/like the post or if you have any feedback please DM me!!

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*

“Okay Y/N, that was good but do you think you can sound like you're actually in love? You know, like how you are in love with Jisung.”

You glare at Chan while you mouth the words “Fuck you” to him. As Chan and Binnie start laughing at you as you simply roll your eyes. The boys have been teasing you about your crush on Jisung, the other 1/3 of the 3racha, for a while now. They accidentally found out about your feelings for him a few months ago during one of your usual movie nights at your place. Since then, they have been either making jokes or pushing you to confess your feelings to him. However, you have always refused, thinking that he doesn't feel the same way and you didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship with him. After all, Jisung has been your best friend for years and you both have been inseparable since you debuted together. You walk out of the booth frustrated and sat on the couch. Chan and Binnie at the same time turned their chairs around to face you. It was already 12:30 AM and you were exhausted.

“Why can’t you give this part to Lee Know or Seungmin, they can sing this better than I can anyway,” you say stubbornly, closing your eyes for a few seconds.

"Because I had you in mind to sing the girl's response to this love song, Y/n. Plus, Bin and I have been wanting you to sing this for the past year now. We've even discussed having you as our featured artist for this album so you really can't back out now princess," Chan responded with a smile.

You couldn't really argue with Chan about this because he brings up a good point. You and the boys have been begging management for a song collaboration for years, and as soon as they agreed, you all teased the collaboration to your respective fanbases. Scrapping it now would be a waste of time and bad from a publicity standpoint. Knowing you had no way out of this session for at least tonight, you groaned as you stood up back up from the couch and walked back into the booth, grabbing on the headphones that rested on the mic. Once you had the headphones situated properly and the lyrics in front of you, you look at Binnie for the next instructions.

“Okay Y/n, start from the top of the second verse until you reach the bridge. Remember, try to sing this as if you're falling in love. Put lots of emotion into this bunny,”

You nod while Chan signals to Binnie to hit the record button. The instrumentals start playing as you take a deep breath, closing your eyes, and trying to mimic the feeling of being in love. Instantly, you pictured Jisung in front of you, smiling ear to ear as he cheers you on from the other side. You couldn’t help but crack open a soft smile as memories of the two of you played in your mind. You start to recall all the times he saved you from bad blind dates and all the all-nighters you both would pull just because you both got heavily attached to some anime series that was 10 years old. You continued to sing into the mic, putting all the emotions you were feeling into it and not missing a beat. This was something you didn’t do in your first couple of recordings. You were so deep into your feelings, channeling that feeling of being in love, that you didn’t even realize you were hitting all of the high notes in the bridge that Chan originally took out because you couldn’t hit them. Once the music starts to fade away, the memories of Jisung and you fade away too. You slowly open your eyes to see not only Chris and Binnie smiling at you, but Jisung was also in the room, staring at you in amazement. He pushes Chris over to the side and speaks into the mic. 

“Damn Y/n that was absolutely fucking amazing!! Who knew you had that in you, Angel.” 

Angel... He just called you angel. He’s only ever called you Bubba or Bubbles but never Angel... You feel your face turning red as you quickly put the headphones back down on the mic and walk out of the booth.

Ignoring that you are blushing over this new nickname, Jisung attacks you in a hug as he whispers in your ear about how beautiful you sounded in your recording. When did Ji sneak in? Did the boys text him to come sit in as you sang? Did he see you blush when he called you angel? You were so deep into thought trying to figure out what just happened, that you didn’t hear Chan talking to you.

“Earth to Y/nnnn, did you hear anything I just said.”

“Huh, no sorry what did you say Channie?” You let go of Jisung's embrace, and as you turn to face Chan, you see him smirking. Unlike Jisung, he could tell you were clearly blushing over the compliments you were receiving.

“I said I think we finally got our take. If you want, you can go home for the night since I know it’s getting late, and we can play it back first thing in the morning for you.”

Sighing in relief, you agree while you pack up your things. You thank the boys for having to spend/ deal with you the last few hours, telling them you will see them in the morning, and start to walk out of the room when Jisung stops you. 

“Y/n wait up!” He grabs you by the arm, spinning you around. 

“Here let me take you home, it’s late and cold out.”

“Oh Ji, I don’t want to bother you with that! I was planning to Uber home anyway.”

“Well, luckily you aren’t bothering me with asking since I am also the one offering. Plus it is my civil duty as your best friend, so I am taking you home and that's final. Now come on, Angel.”

He interlocks his hand into yours as you both walk out of the company building and go to his car. You couldn’t help but look down as you try to contain your smile though this is something the both of you usually do consistently. Jisung walks up to the passenger's side of his car and opens it for you, bowing down and signaling for you to hop in. You giggle at his silly gesture as you playfully curtsey back to him and get in. It’s moments like these you can’t help but fall more in love with him. He closes your door and quickly runs over to his side of the car, turning it on. He puts on some random playlist and he puts the car in drive. 

“Alrighty, off to your house.”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*

After 10 minutes of listening to music in silence, you finally arrived at your apartment building. You could see from above your sister’s lights were still on which means she was still up playing video games with Felix and I.N. As you turned to face Jisung, thanking him for the ride home, you noticed he was already facing you, softly smiling. 

"I know I said this earlier at the studio in front of the boys, but I really meant it when I said you really killed it with the song, Y/n. I can seriously listen to you sing all day." 

That compliment made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't believe what you just heard. Although you are very talented and often hear comments like that from fans, there was something different about hearing it come from Jisung. It made you feel all bubbly inside as if you had butterflies fluttering everywhere.

"I am being 100 percent honest, Y/n. Hearing you sing with such passion and emotion, I would be lying if I said I didn't fall in love with your voice. I mean, I am already in love wit--" Jisung stops speaking as he covers his mouth and quickly looks down.

You look at him, taking a moment to process what was just said. Han Jisung, your best friend and long-time crush, has unintentionally confessed his love for you. Now the car is now truly silent as the music stops playing. With some newfound confidence, you reach over and gently lift his chin. He looks at you with red cheeks, clearly embarrassed, and tries to avoid your eye contact. You couldn’t help but smile as you finally, say the words he's been longing to hear.

“I am in love with you too Ji.”

Jisung grabs your face and kisses you passionately, and within seconds, you feel a rush of sparks running through your body. It's the answer you've been waiting for after years of not knowing. As Jisung pulls away, he places his forehead against yours.

“I've been waiting to do that since we first met, Angel.”

“I’ve been waiting for the same thing Ji.” You smile at him as you kiss him again. 

After that night, the two of you officially became a couple. The boys were ecstatic to learn that you both had finally confessed your feelings to each other after almost a year of teasing. You also later find out that Jisung had actually written the song that had become a global #1 hit as a confession of his feelings towards you, not Chan and Binnie as you had initially thought.

So not only do you have the #1 love song trending worldwide, but you also got the best boyfriend by your side.

[milaisreading]

hiii!! I really loved your manager stories, can you please make a scenario of the aftermath of the manager having a crush on Lavinho? when Lavinho and Chris arrived and how the boys would react to it? thank you so much!

Author: I really didn't plan on making a pt2 to that story, since it seemed so random. But surprisingly a lot of you liked it, and due to popular demand, here is pt2! Hope you enjoy it and thanks for the support 🙇🏻‍♀️🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"What do you mean Lavinho is coming to train us?!" Reo exclaimed into the camera as Ego stopped his speech to look at him oddly.

"As I said, him and Chris Prince will be training you guys for a week and-"

"No! We refuse! Please, anyone but Lavinho. I rather have stoic Noel here than him." Chigiri begged as he fell to the ground. Ego took in a deep breath and contemplated on insulting or yelling at them.

"You unpolished gems need extra training! This place is made for you all to go to the World Cup!"

"We know! But why Lavinho of all people?" Aryu spoke up, panicking just like the others are.

"It's his turn now." Ego stated simply, already getting a migraine from them all.

"Listen, I don't have time for you brats complaining about the most random things. Just don't cause any of them trouble. (Y/n) will bring you your uniforms and then go training." With that the screen turned black as the others looked in worry at each other.

"What now?! If (Y/n) is in love with that dude-"

"It's a celebrity crush,Bachira! And simple, we need to minimize his interactions with (Y/n)." Reo interjected, disgusted at the idea of (Y/n) liking someone as loud as him.

"And how will we do that? We need to be training too. Ego-san won't let it slide if we miss on our training to chase (Y/n) around." Isagi raised an eyebrow.

"Well, maybe the one who is free at the moment can do the distraction part?" Hiori suggested.

"But we need to be subtle with it. If (Y/n) catches on she might get mad at us." Baro added onto Hiori's suggestion.

"Nagi, (Y/n) hates it when you slack off or sleep in, maybe you can... you know..." Kurona said, turning to look at the frustrated albino.

"I see what you mean. I sure can do that, let's just hope she won't be too mad at me." The boy nodded his head, desperate to do whatever he can in order to keep (Y/n) away from the Spaniard.

"Alright it's settled then, this week will be a nightmare." Kunigami sighed, hoping whatever plan they could come up with will work.

The next few days it was filled with preparations for Lavinho and Chirs' arrival. And when the dreadful day came, the boys watched in horror as (Y/n), Ego and Anri greeted them.

'Damn him!' Rin thought as he and Yukimiya spied on them.

'Why does she have heart eyes for him? He is so loud.' Yukimiya cringed as Lavinho joked loudly about something with Chris and Ego.

'He is so cool! No wonder so many people admire him!' (Y/n) thought nervously as Anri silently teased her over Lavinho being there.

'I can do it! The sooner I ask the better!' (Y/n) nodded to herself as she took out a blank sheet of paper, waiting till Lavinho was done talking with Ego over this week's plan.

"(Y/n)!" The group turned to look at Bachira and Kurona who were running towards them.

"What is it?" The girl raised an eyebrow.

"We need your help with some equipment." Kurona said. Bachira nodded his head and took (Y/n)'s wrist.

"Huh? Alright. Let me see what the issue is." The girl nodded, as much as she wanted to talk with Lavinho, her friends and job came first.

"How...how did you guys manage to tangle up the net? And I swear I have put it up on the goal this morning..." (Y/n) muttered as she was busy to entangle the net, she didn't notice the nervous looks Gagamaru, Kurona and Bachira sent each other.

"We are sorry, we kind of... got carried away while playing that we didn't notice it." Bachira explained, feeling sorry for causing (Y/n) the extra trouble. The girl shook her head and sent the trio a small smile before speaking up.

"It's alright! Mistakes happen, the most important thing is to fix it. Which is going good so far."

"It's really nice of you that you aren't getting mad at us... You look pretty today too."

"O-oh? Thanks, Gagamaru!" (Y/n) said as she continued working with the net, feeling a little happier as the other two subtly kicked Gagamaru's legs.

"Cheater."

"Smooth talker."

Bachira and Kurona pouted.

The next day (Y/n) spent the first half helping Chris with taking notes and keeping him on track with the plans, while the 2nd part was taken over by Lavinho. Although she was nervous at first, talking on such a close level with the Spaniard was a huge thing for her, (Y/n) kept her cool as best as possible.

'He makes great speeches!' (Y/n) thought as she listened to the man and wrote some things down. Shortly after he was done, he split the group into two teams, with Chigiri, Hiori and Otoya left as reserves for each team.

'Now is my chance!' (Y/n) thought as she approached the mohawk man.

"E-excuse me, Lavin-"

"(Y/n)! Chigiri needs some help with the knee brace! We don't know how to put it on!" Hiori yelled as he approached the girl, catching Lavinho's attention in the process too.

"Ha? Does it have malfunctions again?!" (Y/n) asked in worry as Hiori nodded his head.

"He thinks so at least. Otoya and I have no clue how it works tho."

"It sounds serious, you can go. I will take the notes from here." The duo turned around to face Lavinho.

"Th-thank you, Lavinho-san." (Y/n) answered.

'He is so reliable!'

Annoyed at the attention she was sending the man, Hiori took (Y/n)'s hand into his and pulled her along.

"Hmm..." (Y/n) muttered as she finally fixed the brace and started putting it on Chigiri's leg.

"Sorry about that." The boy said, feeling a little uncomfortable that they had interrupted (Y/n).

"It's alright! I will just need to talk with Teieri over this... you might need a new model since this one has been malfunctioning a lot." (Y/n) said, a little worried that he might get hurt if he wore it one more time.

'She is such an angel! Never annoyed when helping others and so genuine.' Otoya thought, blushing from her cuteness.

'She is so helpful... we really can't lose her to that dude!' Hiori thought, sending a side glare towards Lavinho. Meanwhile Chigiri was just on cloud 9 because of rhe attention he was receiving.

Day 3 of Lavinho and Chris' stay was pretty uneventful for the most part. Chris would exhaust the boys during the morning training, and later Lavinho would do the same just more intensively.

'Ahh... he is alone now! Just keep your composure (Y/n), ask Lavinho for a simple autograph and move on with your day. Don't be weird.' (Y/n) thought and nodded to herself, grabbing tightly onto her empty piece of paper.

"(Y/n) is approaching Lavinho. You know what to do." Reo told Nagi and Baro, who nodded in annoyance.

"Why do we have to ask him for advice even?"

"And why do you get time with (Y/n)?" The two asked as Reo just shrugged his shoulders.

"Because I am the only rich one here~" Reo laughed and walked off.

'Asshole.' Nagi and Reo thought as they looked at each other.

"(Y/n), I need your help with something!"

Surpassing a groan, (Y/n) turned to look at Reo, wondering what he needed her for.

"Yes?" She asked, noticing Baro and Nagi approaching Lavinho's table.

"Rin and I need help with our uniforms... they are kind of... colored?"

"What?! What do you mean colored?" (Y/n) asked in panic.

'I put them out this morning! How did I not notice it before?!' The girl wondered as Reo pulled her out of the dining room.

"Dunno. We just noticed the pinkish coloring on our uniforms."

"You need my help with passes?" Lavinho asked the two, who solemnly nodded their heads.

"Well then, I will gladly help ya both!" The Spaniard exclaimed with a smile as Baro and Nagi held back a groan.

'Anything to keel our manager away from him!' They reminded themselves as Lavinho dragged them out of the dining room.

"How did this happen?" (Y/n) muttered as she looked at Reo and Rin's uniform. While the pink wasn't huge, it was still a little visible.

"It's kind of my fault..." Rin admitted with a red face as (Y/n) looked at him.

"How did you... Were you carrying that radish salad again and lost balance?" (Y/n)'s frustration turned into teasing.

"Shut up! It only happened twice!" Rin argued as (Y/n) laughed at his clumsiness.

"I hope this teaches you not to walk around with food! The great captain Rin can't balance a bowl of radish."

"Shut up!" The duo argued as Reo watched them with a red face.

'Her laugh is very cute.'

On the fourth day a lot would have lost hope, but (Y/n) didn't want to. She just wanted the autograph so bad! She was using the time while the boys were training to approach Lavinho, not noticing Niko, Isagi and Yukimiya watching them from a safe distance.

'Today is the day! Nobody can stop me!' (Y/n) thought.

"Lavinho-san."

"Hm? Did you need something (Y/n)?" The man asked as the girl fiddled with her fingers a little.

"I-i wanted to ask if I could get an auto-"

(Y/n) was interrupted as she and Lavinho heard a loud scream and they turned to look at the scene.

"Kunigami! What even happened?!" (Y/n) yelled in worry as she noticed blood coming out of his nose.

"We kinda lost control..." Yukimiya gulped as him and Isagi received disapproving looks from Lavinho.

"We should get you to the nurse." (Y/n) muttered as she and Niko helped him up.

"I will talk to these two and you two make sure Kunigami is alright before you leave him in the medic room. " Lavinho ordered them.

"Yes!" Niko and (Y/n) exclaimed, a little terrified at the man's seriousness.

The same night while the boys were either still eating or showering, (Y/n) was with Aryu braiding his hair. And while usually he enjoyed the attention he was receiving from her, he couldn't help but feel a little off.

"Is everything alright? Are you tired?" The boy asked as (Y/n) shook her head.

"Not really... it's just that the whole week I have been trying to get an autograph from Lavinho-san but it never works out." (Y/n) admitted. Aryu's eyes widened at her words as she continued.

"And tomorrow is his last day here too... I think all the courage I build up is just dwindling."

"Ah... so you just want an autograph from him?" Aryu asked for confirmation.

"Of course! I have been Lavinho-san's fan for a while, so having him here is quite a honor."

"So you are staying in Blue Lock and not leaving us for Barcha?"

"Ha? Where did that come from? Of course I won't. Blue Lock is my home and so are you guys. I wouldn't leave for some random team just because someone I admire is in it." (Y/n) said truthfully, causing Aryu to blush a little at her words.

'We made a huge mistake! (Y/n) is just an admirer!' The boy thought, making a mental note to talk with the others later.

"But why would you think I would leave you guys?"

"No reason! Just a thought!" Aryu laughed nervously.

The same night Aryu told the team about the talk he had with (Y/n). The reaction was a pretty surprised one, then it turned into a guilty one after they realized they made more trouble for (Y/n) than needed. All over a celebrity crush that isn't even a threat. So unanimously they decided to end this plan and just let (Y/n) have her best day tomorrow. As much as they hated it, they decided to stay away from her and let her speak with Lavinho normally.

"Hmmm." The team let out a sigh as they watched (Y/n) talk with Lavinho after the man gave her an autograph. And while they were annoyed with the awe look (Y/n) was sending the Spaniard, they were happy. If (Y/n) was happy, so were they.

"She looks cute when she smiles." Gagamaru said as the rest nodded in agreement.

[divine-victory]

TRICK OR TREAT DEEEEEE <3

Treat! 👻

I hope this makes up a bit for Marigolds 🫶🏻😌 this is set in an AU in which Shanon survives the accident and her and Buck Become friends while in PT. For contestants In this AU they were both at the Pier with Chris and Shanon was Buck’s liaison to Chris through the lawsuit so he never lost contact 🫶🏻

“C’mon Buck, lighten up, it's a party!” Shanon says shoving Bucks shoulder playfully. A much easier feat considering Buck is hunched in on himself, Shanon hates to be a cliche but the resemblance to a kicked puppy is uncanny.

Buck doesn’t quite unfurl at the teasing, but he does turn to look at Shannon. One day Shannon will find out at the laws of physics Buck break to somehow manage to look up at her through his lashes while they’re both standing. But for now she is left to just wonder at it as Buck finally speaks.

“I don’t know,” he says, forehead furrowed. “Isn’t it a bit morbid?”

“It’s a Halloween party!” Shanon defends mock offended. She shakes the blood bags at him to emphasize her point. “It’s supposed to be at least a bit morbid.”

She knows Buck is mostly anxious about starting back the firehouse tomorrow. Knows the attitude and the negativity comes from the fact that Eddie refused to come in when he was dropping Chris off. And she gets it, really. She understands being at the wrong end of Eddie’s grudges better than most. But Buck won, he gets to go back to the firehouse like he wanted and that’s something to celebrate.

They almost lost their lives to a tsunami only months after each surviving their own near fatal accident. They deserve to celebrate the wins they get.

“Halloween is tomorrow,” Buck corrects like the pedantic brat he is at heart. Shanon rolls her eyes even though her chest is filled with fondness.

“Fine, a Halloween Eve party,” she amends as she sticks the cartoonish zombie sticker to the mocktail blood bag. “Either way Chris is too to get a kick out of a tsunami based party, and you know it. Plus we want to celebrate your return home!”

“Tsk, Some celebration,” Buck says, mouth twisting in something that tries to be contempt. But Shanon can easily be recognized as hurt. “We’re the only ones attending.”

“That’s only because Maddie had to work,” Shanon exclaims. Then she turns to look where Chris is diligently setting up a board game and in a calmer tone ask. “Plus, aren’t we enough?”

Buck turns to look too. Watches Chris bite his tongue in the same way Eddie does when he is concentrating on something and notices the abundance of fake blood and waves decor spread out throughout Shanon’s two bedroom apartment and realizes how close they came to losing this. Losing each other in the Tsunami. Or worse never having gotten to connect. After all either one of them could have died in the accidents that lead them to PT.

But they didn’t. They survived, they fought together and they bonded over the pain and frustration. And now Buck can’t quite remember not having Shanon on his side. It’s like he gained a younger sister. One equally as stubborn and impulsive as him but one that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

He straightens up then. Because Shanon is annoyingly right. They’re enough.

[alex-wrestling]

Wicked Game

Drew McIntyre/CM Punk

Warnings: dubcon (punk doesn’t consent in the beginning but gives explicit consent for the rest, slight disassociation, SMUT!!

Summary: “The world was on fire and nothing could same me but you/Its strange what desire will make foolish people do” - Wicked Game, Chris Isaak

A.K.A Punk and Drew fuck nasty in the locker room after Drew loses the title

A/N: in honor of Hell in a Cell I thought I’d repost what is arguably my magnum opus. This was written after Wrestlemania but 🤷‍♂️ title is from Wicked Game by Chris Isaak. I listened to Lingua Ignota’s version more tho.

Punk didn’t know what to make of the man crawling across the announce table. Drew’s back was arched, unbearably so, as he sauntered to sit across from Punk.

What happened at the Royal Rumble was an accident, even he knew that, but as he looked into Drew’s eyes he couldn’t manage to convince himself of that fact again.

He clapped, further enraging the pissed off Scot sat on his haunches. “Congratulations,” he said, “good job. You were the better man.”

“Every single word. I meant every single word I said.”

Punk narrowed his eyes in mock confusion. “I can’t hear what you’re saying,” he yelled above the crowd, pointing to his earpiece.

“If you step in that ring again, I’ll end your career,” Drew growled. “This is my moment.” Punk could feel the heat coming off of him, could feel his sweat stinging his eyes.

“Then why are you here?” Punk asked. “Why are you making it about me?”

Drew’s cold eyes gleamed. “I want to rub it in your goddamn face!” He stood up, allowing Punk to get an eyeful of his chiseled frame and everything below it. Punk could feel, despite the position they were both in, the power he held. Drew had knelt for him, he’d won that title for him. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Drew was obsessed.

Drew put his hand on his pelvis. ‘Suck it,’ he mouthed. Punk continued to laugh. Drew turned, and Punk saw a chance to silence him once and for all.

He swept Drew’s leg out from under him, making him land hard on the announce desk. Drew looked up, shocked, and Punk removed his brace. Drew fell to the floor as Punk beat the Scottish man as hard as he could.

Everything after that was a blur, but he vividly remembered Damian cashing in, being showered in purple and hearing the loud guitar and the Philadelphia crowd go wild. It didn’t make him happy (it should’ve been him, damnit) but the satisfaction was still there, sitting comfortably in his brain.

He watched the emotions on Drew’s face. All of the anger, frustration, disbelief, and sadness as he watched his dreams come crashing down, just like Punk’s had.

The next thing he remembered was being shoved into a wall.

“You thought I was through with you, Punk? That was my chance! Do you know what you just did?”

“Your chance?” Punk retorted. “You tore my fucking tricep! What could you possibly know about chances?”

Drew’s voice bellowed across the hall, echoing and bouncing off of every surface. “You think you know pain because of a torn muscle? I’ll show you pain! I’ll make you wish you never healed!”

Punk was pushed into the locker room by the bigger man. It was devoid of life, but filled with gear and bags. It was almost comforting, a familiarity to it that Punk didn’t know he missed until he saw it again. The last time he’d seen a locker room like this was at All Out with the Elite.

The egos and microaggressions had become too much for all of the men involved, and eventually the animosity boiled over into a locker room fight. Matt and Nick and Adam on one side, Punk on the other, Kenny and Larry doing god-knows-what across the room. Damn. I miss Larry.

His knees hit the concrete floor, and he let out a hiss. Drew towered over him, cradling his chin and tracing his jaw with his thumb. The stench of sweat stung his eyes and he blinked to get rid of the sensation. It was an intimate scene, and if he didn’t know any better he’d think that Drew’s obsession had become a schoolboy crush. “If you want me to blow you you’re gonna have to pay me first,” Punk spat. Drew just smirked, eyes raking down Punk’s body and making the older man shiver. The power Punk had held just a few minutes before was gone; instead, Drew was the dominant man, a hand on his hip bone where his gear dug into the lean muscle underneath it. “Well, McIntyre?”

“You’re a cancer,” Drew started, “a man who’s never had a home because of who he is. You’re a liability, Punk. We don’t want you here.”

Punk smirked. “I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.”

Punk heard the slap before he felt it. The sheer force of it knocked him onto his back. Drew was on top of him, because of course he was. Punk could feel the control he had slipping from his fingertips, and formed a fist to kickstart Brawl-mania or whatever the media wanted to call it. Before he could, Drew grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them above his head. Punk winced as he felt a needle-like sensation in his tricep.

“If you’re gonna fuck me, at least take me out to dinner first,” Punk said.

“Aye, I’ll do that later,” Drew replied, pressing himself down on Punk. The older man could feel the muscles contracting on Drew’s stomach. Even he, the straightest of men, could admit to himself that Drew was attractive. Anyone else he knew would kill to be in the position they were in right now.

Drew’s knee was between Punk’s thighs, further dominating the tattooed man beneath him. Punk searched the blue eyes above him for any semblance of humor, some kind of emotion that said ‘hey, funny prank huh? By the way, I’m not into you’ but he found nothing but fire.

The dread began to set in. He’d heard what guys did to each other in locker rooms, but he’d never been a part of the fucked-up hazing rituals of the past (a certain financial consultant for Fox News comes to mind), and even including all of that information, he never would’ve guessed that he’d be on the receiving end.

His shirt was ripped off with superhuman strength. Drew stared down at Punk’s tattooed chest appreciatively, licking his lips in a way that made Punk shiver. “You’re not gonna fight me? Not even a punch?” Drew muttered, lowering himself down to Punk’s lips and licking them, making the other man’s eyes widen. “Tastes like fear,” Drew said.

Punk tried to use at least a bit of his MMA training and roll the Scot over, but that just made Drew pin him to the floor using his body. With his free hand he caressed Punk’s nipple, making the older man jump with the unexpected sensation. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He shrieked, squirming with the uncomfortable, hot sensation that had just shot through his system. Drew just smirked and moved down his body, licking his way down to his belt, and it finally dawned on Punk what the younger man was thinking. “No. No! Get off of me! God-fuck-no!”

Drew was straddling Punk’s thighs now, looping his free hand through the waistband of the blue pants. “If I let you go, will you be good for me?”

Punk narrowed his eyes. “I’ll tell Paul.”

“And what good will that do?” Drew asked, hand working its way up and down Punk’s body. “You’re a pathological liar. He’ll never believe you. Besides, someone had to teach you to stop running your damn mouth.”

Punk thought it was the tone of Drew’s voice, the low, hushed growl that had come from him. Or maybe it was the friction on his lower half. Either way, he suddenly became too hot. His cheeks were heating up, his breathing became heavy, and the room seemed to close in on him.

Drew slowly released Punk’s wrists. He pulled his injured tricep down to his chest, but otherwise didn’t move. “Aye, you like it a little rough, huh?”

Punk’s eyes kept dancing wildly across the room. His mind and his body were telling him different things, giving him mixed signals. “Leave me alone, McIntyre,” Punk said breathlessly.

Drew made quick work of the belt and pants, quickly moving down to the boxers. Punk expected him to rip those off too, but to his surprise (and enjoyment) Drew stuck his tongue right on the slowly rising mound.

Punk instinctively bucked his hips, but the dominant man laid a hand on the straight edge tattoo on his abdomen. “You will not move again.” It was an order, and one that Punk intended to obey. There was something bubbling inside of him, something brewing in his throat that needed to come out.

His boxers came off next, and Punk breathed a sigh of relief. “Please,” he mewled pathetically.

“Not yet,” Drew said. “I don’t think you want it. You were just trying to get away.”

It was a game of cat and mouse. Drew was toying with him, preying on him, trying to tease him into submission, and Punk wasn’t having it. “Fuck you!” Punk whimpered.

“Aye, I see how it is,” Drew said, standing up and stepping over Punk to change. Punk hadn’t realized Drew was still in his ring gear. He was still sweaty and full of adrenaline, the thin material between him and his-

Fuck. Maybe Punk was a bit gay. He still wasn’t going to beg Drew McIntyre of all people to rail him into the ground.

Then Drew slid his gear off.

Punk could’ve swore his dick was as thick as his forearm. He was shocked that Drew's gear was even able to hide it. He quickly clamored to his knees, clawing his way over to the hunky Scotsman. “Please, Drew, please,” Punk mewled, shocking himself. He’d fought his entire life to be seen as a threat; he’d worked his ass off to be seen as a top guy, intimidating, someone who could hold his own, and he was throwing all of that away for some dick?

Drew looked down at the pathetic man kneeling before him. “I thought you didn’t want it?” He asked, dick jumping slightly at Punk’s submission.

“Please, Drew, I’ll do anything. You’re right, I need this please-”

One thrust from the man above him silenced him. Punk gagged around his meaty cock. Tears immediately started welling in his eyes, which didn’t make sense to him. He was supposed to be enjoying this, wasn’t he? This is what his body wanted, right?

In the end, it didn’t matter. Drew gripped the back of Punk’s head and started to throat fuck him. Punk had to grab Drew’s thighs with his good arm to keep himself upright. His upper arm burned from Drew’s earlier manhandling, and he briefly let go of Drew’s thigh to cradle it.

Drew’s cock was ripped out, a line of spit connecting it to Punk’s mouth. “What? Did I hurt you?” Drew asked, his voice getting softer at the question. Punk just looked up, mouth still wide open, drool leaking from his bottom lip. “Look at that. Just like a doll, aye? So pretty. Get on your knees.” Drew backed away, taking away any support Punk might’ve had so that he fell onto his hands. He yanked Punk’s boxers down to his knees. “I hope you like hair gel,” Punk heard from above. “It’s the only thing I have. But a slut like you doesn’t care, right?”

The cold and wet gel hitting his asshole made Punk gasp. This is really happening, he thought. Do I want this? I could ask him to stop, right?

As if he was reading his mind Drew said, “this is your last chance to back out, Punk. Do you want this?”

Punk was thoroughly shocked by his immediate “yes!” to that question. He didn’t want it, not at all, but the need pooled in his stomach, his dick throbbed, and he had finally, finally relaxed enough so Drew could slip in.

Slip wasn’t the right word; it was more like a battering ram going through a door. Punk sucked in a breath to cry out, but Drew was quicker, grabbing his throat and yanking his head back so they could make eye contact. “You suffer so wonderfully,” Drew whispered. Punk felt Drew’s hips come off of his, just for a moment, before slamming back, making Punk’s dick strain more than it already was. He did it again and again, quickening his pace each time. A particularly hard thrust hit a place inside Punk that he didn’t know existed, and he groaned, feeling his Adam’s apple rub against Drew’s fingers. “You like that, you little whore? You’re not runnin’ your mouth, are ya?” He hit the spot again. Punk’s breath came in short, hot pants. “If you were always like this, I wouldn’t be fucking you. Did you learn?” Punk didn’t know if he wanted to learn. The stress from the constant fighting between them was being released, and Punk couldn’t be happier.

A hand reached down and gripped Punk’s neglected dick just right. He didn’t know whose hand it was, but it knew him better than he did. The constant pressure on his prostate, along with the stroking of his cock broke something in the older man, and he came with a yelp, sending streaks of cum across the locker room. Drew grunted around Punk’s ever-tightening asshole, but ultimately gave in, sending warm cum through him.

Punk collapsed in a heap on the floor, while Drew pulled out, sending white liquid pouring out of Punk’s abused hole. “I hate you, you know that? Keep your fucking mouth shut and this won’t happen again.”

Punk smiled, planning his next move. There would definitely be some more talking. He hated the man back, but maybe this could happen more often. Maybe Drew would be the one on his stomach.

[alj4890]

Heart's Choice Part 3

(Ethan Ramsey x F!MC) (Tobias Carrick x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart One shot.

A/N Here's the finale to your initial question @jerzwriter Sorry it took this long to answer 😂 Thanks for the ask ♥️

Masterlist

Part 3

Ethan wasn't sure how he managed to walk into Chris's room and calmly sit down. He had such a rush of feelings as he looked at her tear stained face. The first was how unfair it was that this was where they ended up after everything they'd been through.

He loved her. He doubted there would ever come a time when he didn't. The thought of losing her cut to the quick. His life, he couldn't even begin to imagine what it was going to look like after today.

Anger and fear melded together, forcing him to want to fight the inevitable. He knew Tobias was right. It galled him to admit it, but the man knew him and Chris too well. He saw right to the heart of the matter just as much as they wished to remain blind to it.

"Ethan?" Chris reached for his hand.

He got up and moved to sit facing her on the bed. Taking her hand in his, he lifted his eyes to her face.

He adored that face. The green eyes that could twinkle with humor then burn with passion were hypnotic. Her warm smile was always directed towards him. Even the slight tilt of her nose was endearing.

Chris's bottom lip trembled, drawing his attention to her mouth.

That mouth had the ability to make him burn. Whether it was in the throes of passion or in setting off his temper, it had a power over him unlike any other. The words she'd whisper to him late at night, hearing her say how much she loved him, how could he walk away from that?

He only knew he had to.

"Chris, I think we both know what needs to be done." He began.

Silent tears began to fall down her cheeks once more.

He reached up with his free hand and gently wiped them away. He knew there was no reason to bring up Tobias's confession. As much as he wanted to blame him for what was happening, ultimately it came down to Chris and himself.

"I'm not going to change, not in the way you need me to. I can't. I won't." He lifted his eyes to hers. "I'm not the man to give you the marriage and family you want."

Chris was unable to speak. Her heart was breaking that this was what had come of their relationship. The fact that he was ending it surprised her. She'd dreaded this talk, knowing she'd have to say they couldn't be together, even though she knew deep down that it needed to be done. The thing was, she hadn't known it would hurt this much.

She loved him. He frustrated and challenged her like no one before or after him. He had a tenderness that could surprise her and make her melt at the same time. Even his dry sense of humor had a way of making her day better.

How could she let him end what they'd struggled to finally have?

She knew though, neither of them really had a choice. This was the only way they could live.

Especially since I now realize I'm in love with Tobias.

Swallowing back a sob, she whispered. "You were the man of my dreams."

A sad smile formed on lips she knew too well.

"That's the thing about dreams, Chris." His voice was hoarse with emotion. "Eventually, you wake up and see reality."

He lifted their clasped hands to his cheek. "You and I have been dreaming long enough."

Her voice hitched as more tears fell. "Do you," she closed her eyes as her shoulders began to shake with her muffled cries, "do you hate me?"

"No." He scooted closer, drawing her once more into his arms. "I don't hate you at all."

She held on to him, crying out that she didn't want to lose him.

"I know we'll need time." She sniffed. "Do you think that one day we could find our way back to being friends?"

He hesitated at the notion. With how much he felt for Chris, he didn't know if he could take simply being her friend. Ethan's self-preservation cried out that he refuse to ever see her again. Though they worked at the same place, being Chief would help keep them from seeing each other as little as possible.

Looking into her heartbroken face and seeing that she was as devastated as he was, he knew he couldn't say no.

"One day." He promised.

She tenderly kissed his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Ethan."

"Me too." He reluctantly released her.

Ethan got to his feet. "I'll go and let you get some rest."

With one final look at Chris, he left.

Tobias was waiting out in the hallway. He'd remained across the hall so as to give Ethan and Chris privacy. When the door opened and he saw his friend's face, he knew that life had permanently changed for all of them.

Ethan noticed him standing there. Giving a brisk nod of acknowledgement, he got in the elevator without a word.

***************

A few hours later, Tobias found Chris fast asleep. She'd exhausted herself from crying over everything that happened in the last few days.

He quietly sat down in the chair next to her bed to watch her. He hated that she and Ethan had gone through this. At the same time, he couldn't help but be overjoyed in Chris returning the love he'd felt for a long time.

Tobias knew she'd need some time before they began their own new relationship. As anxious as he was to start, he was willing to wait for as long as she needed to. He'd already waited in revealing his feelings. What was a little longer to actually see his dreams come to fruition?

He relaxed back in the chair as visions of what would happen when Chris was ready came to mind.

Closing his eyes, he dreamed about her.

****************

Chris awoke alone that night in her hospital room. Noticing the time, she knew she would soon be dismissed from observation. She sat up and wondered if she should buzz for a nurse to find out when she could leave.

Tobias stuck his head in as he'd done every so often, saw her awake, and came inside.

"One last examination." He told her. "Then I'll release you."

She sat up straighter as he checked her vitals. He shined a small light in each of her eyes then grinned at her.

"You're good to go."

She stared at him as he wrote some notes in her chart and wondered what he was thinking. Did he know that Ethan ended things? Was he regretting telling her he loved her? He hadn't exactly said he wanted a relationship. He'd only wanted to tell her how he felt.

Tobias glanced up and caught her staring at him. Setting the chart on the bed table, he sat down on her bed.

"Now that you're no longer my patient," he said, "how are you?"

His eyes searched hers for the truth when she seemed to struggle to find the words.

"Numb, I think." She began. "A part of me is at least."

She summoned her courage to find out what he was thinking. "The other part of me is still thinking about what you and I admitted."

"Oh?" He felt his heart drop. "Do you regret saying it?"

"Of course not!" Her eyes widened that he'd ever think that. "I only regret not realizing it sooner."

She averted her eyes from his. "It was unfair to both you and Ethan that I didn't see what was happening."

"Hey." He took her hands in his. "So the timing wasn't ideal for us to admit we are in love. I know I could have waited a little longer, but I didn't want to." He shrugged. "Now that we both know how we feel, we have all the time we need to be together."

"Is that what you want?" She asked. "For us to be together in a relationship?"

"You thought I poured my heart out to you, simply to remain single?" He shook his head. "I know I said I didn't expect anything to change, but I couldn't help but hope that you loved me too. You couldn't have doubted that if you did, I would do all I could to be with you."

Chris realized how foolish her fears had been. He was right. Why would you tell someone how you felt if you weren't going to do all you could to be with them.

"Well," she said a touch nervously. "Now what do we do?"

"Take you home for your mandatory two days of rest." He told her.

"Right." She moved to get out of the bed. "I meant about us."

Tobias stopped her from moving when he placed his hands on her waist.

"I thought, if you want to that is," he explained, "that you could come to my home to recover." He explained. "I understand if you're not ready for us to begin right away, but I would like to take care of you, if you'll let me."

Tears filled her eyes again. Sniffing, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

Tobias gently rubbed her back when she tightened her arms around him.

She lifted her head, gazing up at him, and asked if he was sure he wanted to do that.

"I know I'm going to be a mess for a while." She added.

He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing her skin.

"I wouldn't have offered it if I wasn't sure." He told her.

"Then I want to go home with you." Chris admitted. "I need to be near you, especially after everything we've said."

He leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

She caressed his cheek when it ended. Their eyes met and both knew they didn't need to say anything else.

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, Tobias took her home.

***************

Epilogue...

"Ready?" Ethan asked.

Tobias looked at his reflection once more. "No. I can't get this damn tie straight."

Ethan stepped forward and untied it to start over.

"It wasn't that bad." Tobias grumbled.

"It wasn't that good either." Ethan remarked, smirking at him. "I think your nerves have gotten the better of you."

Tobias rolled his eyes in response.

"There." Ethan stepped back to study him. "I think you're ready unless you need to stare at your reflection a little longer."

He walked out of the room, pausing in the doorway to tease the man one last time. "I can always tell everyone that the wedding has been postponed because the groom can't tear his eyes off himself."

"Don't even think about doing that." Tobias followed him out. "Come hell or high water, I'm getting married today."

The two made their way towards the altar and took their positions.

"Hey?" Tobias whispered to him before Chris walked down the aisle. "Thank you."

"For what? The tie? You never did have the knack for them." Ethan whispered back.

"Not that, smartass. For this. For standing by my side. Being there for Chris," Tobias paused the moment Chris appeared and began to walk the aisle with her father. "For a lot of things that I don't have time to get into."

Ethan patted his back. His heart still ached from time to time, but he'd realized after a few months that he needed both Chris and Tobias in his life. He was miserable keeping them at a distance. It hurt more being without their friendship than it did seeing them together as a couple.

It gave him hope for his own future when he saw Chris in her wedding gown and didn't wish she was marrying him. The fact that she only had eyes for Tobias in this moment didn't bother him. He knew that he had made the right decision for all three of them.

He was able to stand there and watch the two closest people in his life obtain their happily ever after.

[dojae-huh]

Hello! Just want to say again that I'm glad I found your blog, your down-to-earth commentary, especially about the business side of it all, is very much appreciated :)

Hi. Thank you for letting me know, I'm glad you find some more down to earth posts useful. In part, I run this blog to offer an alternative in fandom experience.

Thing is, we, as k-pop fans and as people who don't work in showbusiness or South Korea, don't have enough knowledge, experience or inside information to have a strong educated opinion on most of things when it comes to idol companies and their executives. We can have opinions as customers - I like this music, this promotional strategy works on me, these outfits are ugly, this concept rocks -, but not as business analytics. Especially considering how much media play, false information and difference in cultures we face.

However, nowadays everyone has the illusion that they know better, that their opinion and feelings are valid when it comes to any topic. And spread and defend their opinion like it is the ultimate truth.

I've recently come across a twit starting with "it appears that" and ending with "for sure". In a span of a few sentences the fan offered an imaginary scenario and finished with a "this is truth". Of course to "prove" that SM is evil, heh. Such baseless statements easily play on fans' love for their biases, evoke an emotional response, call to arms, they give an answer to "Who is to blame?!", provide a target for unleashing frustration and anger.

When one solo-stan blames our bias, we can call bullshit because we know how things really are. When a fan blames Chris Lee or SM, other fans are ready to accept the words as believeable. Either because they share the sentiment, or have no own opinion on the matter, so any will do. If everyone around says the same thing, it should be true, afterall? That's how our brains are wired: follow the majority, agree with the tribe, mirror everyone's current emotion.

We can't see the inner works and we don't know the inner rules, but we can see the results of labour and sometimes a reflection of things.

When I came to k-pop, I knew SM as the company that overworks its artists, has lawsuits with them, is super strict. Broken in two halves TVXQ and EXO with half of its members gone weren't a good representation. So when I started to get to know NCT better, I started to wonder if I was lied to or that something had changed in SM (the latter). Neos were taught how to songwrite, SM persisted with good quality music for NCT despite the group not taking off right away, artists not looking slavelike, there was SMstation and interesting projects.

Sure, I can observe bad work: poorly prepared concerts (Link), constant failures with album production (omitting Doyoung's name, boring designs for 127), tasteless stylists, etc. However, I also see good work: artists flying first/business class and living in 5 star hotels, being given opportunity to go to the beach, museums, to enjoy sightseeing in new countries; opportunity to explore one's creativity (soundcloud, NCTLabs, solo performances for Link); SM giving artists second professions (MC, variety host, model) that will aid professional longevity (Doyoung hasn't finished school and doesn't have a degree, but I'm not worried for him, even if SM collapses, he'll always find a job. Same for Taeyong, he came as a blank page, now he is a songwriter and a producer, he can even become a choreographer); neos progressively being given more choice and say, their opinion being consulted and their ideas being implemented once they gain enough experience (Golden Dust story, Taeyong making his own setlist for his concert, Doyoung saying Unity should not have solo-stages, Ten choosing the mood and genre for his solo, etc).

Most importantly, I can see many friendships between neos and producers/managers, and that Haechan and Doyoung, who experienced all of SM's downsides personally and not once, continue to like the company. Meaning, the good should outweight the bad. At least for now.

Fans learnt the name of Chris Lee and continue to blame him for everything to this day, although he doesn't own any shares in SM and has stopped being a CEO a year ago. He is a token scapegoat.

Should I blindly trust fans or should I go read Wikipedia, interviews and listen to the guy himself? In situations like these I always choose the latter.

Sure, I can't tell if he evades taxes or participates in shady business, and what neos think of him (aside from Doyoung calling him "hyung" in public and not being afraid of getting punished for it), but I can see he was the person who overlooked all the early NCT songs (we have "Limitless", "Cherry bomb" thanks to him); created SMStation and SMClassics (say thank you for "Try again", "Star blossom"); found Dem Jointz ("Kick it", "Punch", "Sticker") and multiple other songwriters who now work for SM; brought to Korea the idea of songwriting camps, in which Kun participates nowadays and where he befriends foreign creators; invested SM money into a publishing company (and not a winery or a hotel business), which means SM artists will be secured to have a lot of songs to choose from in the future, and Korean young producers will have access to the global market. He has been with SM close to 20 years, and he is evidently a music nerd, ergo he understands artists and their love for music. So why should I hate him? I have no proof of him taking money away from neos, but I have evidence he was very essential to formation of NCT and the quality of SM sound being maintained. On the contrary, I'm inclined to suspect the quality of albums (song setlist, production) is raising again because he is back to supervising A&R in SM.

[rallamajoop]

Resident Evil 5, and why ‘Man who punched a boulder that one time’ is not a personality

Since I’ve already talked about Resis 2, 3, and 4, it’s probably about time to tackle RE5, which may be relevant to the greater state of the franchise for two reasons. For one, after the success of the RE4 remake, RE5 may well be next up in that queue. And considering the franchise’s recent trajectory, with all that RE8, too, owes to the original RE4, it’s worth asking whether something much like RE5 (for better or worse) may well be what we have to look forward to in RE9.

RE5 certainly sold well – to this day, it remains one of the best-selling titles in the franchise. Cynically though, I can’t help but wonder how much of that was simply the franchise coasting off the reputation of RE4 – a game is still cited as one of those titles-that-redefined-the-genre, whereas RE5 doesn’t have much legacy beyond being ‘the racist one’, or That Time Chris Redfield Punched a Boulder.

To give credit where it’s due, by reputation RE5 was a lot of fun to play with a partner (as it was intended), though it may be more notorious for how frustrating it was to play without one, depending on the infamously-awful partner AI as a stand in. Running away from your own AI partner as they try to waste the good healing items on you when you've only got a scratch is apparently a regular part of the single-player experience. I’m stuck saying ‘by reputation’ here because I haven’t actually played RE5 myself, and thus everything below should probably be taken with a pretty big grain of salt.

What I can tell you is that, experienced purely via let’s-plays and cutscene compilations, this is easily the most boring numbered entry in the whole RE franchise.

The biggest single problem here is its protagonist, Chris Redfield, who’s be reimagined for the new console generation as a huge, muscular slab of a man, and with all the personality of a sheet of cardboard, not-much-enhanced by such exciting dialogue as, "There's one thing I do know. I have a job to do, and I'm going to see it through."

This is not a problem unique to Chris: Jill, in her few actual scenes, fares no better. ‘Dedicated para-military professional’, ‘designated good guy’ and ‘wants to save the world from bioweapons’ are perfectly good character traits. They should not be someone’s entire personality. This is a game that does that classic Winter Soldier trope where Jill comes back from the dead brainwashed by the villains, and somehow manages to make it boring. That shouldn’t be possible, but with Chris and Jill, RE5 has pulled it off.

Not all the heroes are as bland as Chris: Sheva gets to be friendly and upbeat and a dedicated para-military professional. But despite being the designated local, she’s entirely here to support Chris, with no real plot of her own or personal investment in his mission. I mean, she does have some history with this other local squad leader guy called Josh, and there’s a bit where he might be dead or something and you have to go find him, but then he’s fine, NBD. Josh himself is about as interesting as Chris, and I can’t help but suspect he’s in this game mostly as a response to criticism that the only other notable black character (Sheva) was a light-skinned woman with a British accent, after which no-one had the guts to actually do anything with Josh for fear of accidentally being offensive. He's just there.

As usual for RE, the villains are far more memorable than the heroes: Wesker is here to leave no scenery unchewed in his usual ridiculous anime-villain way, and Excella… well, you can’t say she doesn’t have personality. But their plan is the usual uninspired dreck: do wildly unethical experiments to bring about the apocalypse and/or next stage in human evolution, get revenge on Umbrella by doing the exact same shit Umbrella always did, blah blah blah. You’ve seen it all a hundred times before.

Like so many RE titles, RE5 opens with a clear thesis statement: appropriately for a co-op shooter, this is a story about partnership. Chris’ reaction to meeting his new ‘partner’ Sheva is heavy with regret over the loss of his old partner, Jill. So, this is one of those Learning To Love Again kind of stories, where Chris has to learn to trust someone new, right? Or maybe Chris will have to make hard decisions between going after his brainwashed old partner, Jill, or backing up his new partner, Sheva? Nope! Maybe this theme comes through for some in the gameplay, but it sure doesn’t go anywhere in the narrative. Chris discovers Jill is alive and brainwashed all of one boss battle before Jill is rescued, immediately un-brainwashed, and promptly left behind again (because, like, she’s injured now and Chris has to trust his new partner, or something). So like so many RE titles, the opening thesis statement goes nowhere.

The other big problem with this game is the complete lack of atmosphere. You can (and RE frequently does) get away with bland heroes just fine if the setting has enough personality to carry the title, but RE5 doesn’t have that going either. There are probably writers out there who could tell a gripping horror story about a hardened para-military team hunting monsters in open spaces in bright sunlight, but they sure weren’t writing for RE5. The RE series at large is never more laughably absurd to me than when it’s trying to go full military shooter, and RE5 is doing that as hard as it can.

I haven’t yet touched on the big controversies this game arrived with, because lord knows I’ve got no special insight into how to respectfully portray African people and an African location. But I think it's safe to say that mindless waves of zombie-uncontacted-tribesmen waving primitive shields and clubs probably isn't a great way to represent Africa's native population. It's not like you're going to meet any un-zombie native tribesmen. Zombie is apparently just their default state.

Still, even from my limited, white-Australian perspective, what stood out most was just how irrelevant the African setting is to the greater plot. RE’s 2 and 3 were set in a (named) American city, with an American pharmaceutical company as its villains. RE4 was set in a Spanish village, with a pseudo-medieval cult as its villains. RE5 may be set ‘somewhere in Africa’, but both its hero and its villain are white Americans. There may be some vague faff about Wesker researching a particular local virus, but for all plot purposes, Africa is little more than an unfortunate bystander, an indifferent battlefield for foreign white people. The only African people worth talking to have guns, and are already working for Chris’ organisation. Jill of RE3 had to watch her home city and her own friends and colleagues fall to the zombie plague, but no-one pays more than the briefest lip-service to the broken communities or human casualties in RE5 – after all, there are bigger things at stake than a few African villagers, Chris has a missing white friend to find! Besides, there’s always, like, wars and famines and shit breaking out in Africa, it’s just a scary, violent place in general. The zombies probably didn’t even make it any worse, amirite?

Yeah, fuck that nonsense. The entire African continent exists to this game as an exotic location where lots of people can die without the player having the feel too bad about it.

Nothing in this game adds up to even the sum of its parts. The reveal of Jill’s face doesn’t produce a ‘omg, it’s Jill!’ reaction from the audience, it gets a ‘wait, who’s this generic blonde lady?’ The mind-control device Wesker uses on Jill is unrelated to any of the biological research he’s been using to turn other people into zombie slaves, it’s just a glowing mechanical thing that can be easily removed. There’s a document you can pick up which spells out a backstory for Sheva that is honestly more interesting than anything going on in the plot, but which fails to provide any insight into how an African-born native who was apparently educated in America has been walking around the whole game with a distinct British accent. The progenitor virus – the nominal excuse for the whole setting – is apparently nothing that Umbrella's researchers haven't already known about for decades.

Is there anything to recommend this game for? Well, Sheva is so much my cup of tea that she’s been turning my head ever since I first ran into a picture of her in some random gaming magazine sometime back around 2008, and I cannot even properly resent this game’s love of showing me close-ups on her ass (it’s a very nice ass, okay?) But after being saddled with such terrible gaming AI, she’s stuck being one of the more widely hated characters in this franchise, and she has so little story of her own that enjoying Sheva doesn’t get me very far.

Oh, and there's Chris' "Heavy Metal" alternate costume. That's certainly something.

RE5 is obviously reflective of the direction the franchise was already taking towards action and away from horror, but probably owes much more to Capcom chasing popular trends. Military co-op shooters set in sunny, arid locations populated by disposable brown people were in at the time, never mind whether that fit the Resident Evil brand. And though the game was a big sales success, it also led directly into the disaster that was RE6, which just about killed the franchise (though being forced to go back to the drawing board for RE7 inarguably did the series a world of good in the long run).

As successful as the remakes of 2, 3 and 4 have been, it’s hard to see the case for remaking RE5. Since 2009, the era of co-op mechanics being shoehorned into everything has come and (thankfully) gone – what was a controversial new direction for RE then isn’t likely to go down much better now. Though it’s now 14 years old, RE5 still looks like a modern game in a way that even the original RE4 doesn’t, and it can’t boast any of the first four games’ reputations as genre-defining classics. Is it possible to reimagine a title like RE5 enough to bring it more in-line with the other recent remakes without alienating those who remember the original fondly, campy co-op nonsense and all? Is it worth courting another round of ugly, racist controversy just to regurgitate a remake of a game so widely considered the franchise’s shark-jumping moment, and which was more of a sequel to the (so far un­-remade) Code Veronica than any of the previous remakes? That’s ultimately up to Capcom to decide, but my money’s on a ‘no’.

Since the semi-reboot of RE7 and 8, Capcom has already returned to much purer survival horror, and then again transitioned into a more action-focused experience a la RE4, effectively speed-running their way through early franchise history again in just two games. Is a continued shift back towards action in some RE5-style follow-up inevitable?

There are good reasons to wonder if that’s already the plan: Chris’ section at the end of RE8 was heavy on the military-shooter-isms, and there’s plenty more in the endgame and on the internet rumour mill to suggest he’s set to be the lead again for RE9. But speaking personally, ye gods do I hope not. Three more games since RE5 have not made Chris any more interesting to me as a character – not unless they’re willing to commit to the increasing hints he’s on the edge of going completely off the deep end into irredeemable villainy, and I doubt Capcom have the guts for that. The last thing this series needs is a new case of military-shooter-itis.

RE5 may not be the worst game in this franchise, but for my money, it’s easily the blandest. I can't speak for the whole fandom ‒ I can't even speak as someone who's actually played the original ‒ but I for one would prefer to see it left firmly in the past.

[amarantine-amirite]

Hang In There

The contest to hang onto the side of the monkey bars as long as possible lasted for 45 minutes. Each contestant had to face forward. Each contestant had to hold onto the sides of the monkey bars, not the bars themselves. their feet couldn't touch the ground. The last person hanging would be declared the winner.

Christina Montfort seriously believed she had what it took to win. After all, she loved bracing herself on the sides of the monkey bars by her arms. Kids would give her a bad time for this, and here she was, in this contest, where you had to hold onto the edges of the monkey bars.

However; when she usually hung onto the sides of the monkey bars, she wrapped her arms over the top and supported herself with her forearms because she had next to no strength in her hands. Today, she couldn't do that. Unlike the playground behind her house, the bars in front of her were much wider, and she struggled to wrap her arms around them. She barely managed to last half a minute before falling.

"This is stupid," Christina's frustration grumbled as she hit the ground.

Stephanie shook her head gently. "No, it's not," she replied, trying to encourage her friend.

"Why can't I do this?" Christina exclaimed, her arms slipping off the bars. She braced herself, trying to understand why her usual technique wasn't working here.

Stephanie placed a reassuring hand on Christina's shoulder. "This is different," she explained, her voice calm and patient. "These monkey bars are wider, and you can't wrap your arms over the top like the other ones."

Frustration still etched on her face, Christina countered, "No, it's not. It's no different from---"

"I don't know what to tell you, Chris," Stephanie interrupted. She didn't understand why Christina would keep trying a strategy that clearly didn't work.

Stephanie Moffitt had her own problems. Determined to stay upright, she struggled against the temptation to hang upside down. She lasted for about four and a half minutes before she finally gave in. Her grip slipped, and she fell clumsily on her back.

Carol Binner fared somewhat better, but not much. "Help me understand this, Jo," Carol said, furrowing her brow. "Is Christina mad at Stephanie because she can't hold onto the monkey bars from her hands?"

"I think so," Joanne responded, "It seems like Christina is angry at Stephanie because she can't grip the monkey bars like the others."

Carol's confusion deepened. "How is it Stephanie's fault that Chris has bad grip strength?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

Joanne sighed, trying to make sense of the situation herself. "I'm not entirely sure," she admitted. A person's grip strength is their problem, and theirs alone.

Carol scoffed, "Whatever it is, I don't feel any sympathy for her." All of a sudden, she felt her left arm cease to respond to what her brain told it to do. Her left leg hung there like a big salami. "In fact, I don't feel anything on the left side of my body."

Carol dropped off the monkey bars soon after that. She hit the ground with a thud, then got up and limped off the gravel.

Stephanie looked at her as she approached the sidelines. "I'm guessing you're all right now, Carol?" she laughed. Yes, that was a terrible joke, but not totally inaccurate.

At the very back of the monkey bars, Elizabeth Justice and Joanne Wright had a conversation. "Hey, Joanne, do you see this?"

Joanne asked, "What?"

"Christina's still mad about being the first one to go."

Christina argued with the coach loud enough for everyone else to hear. "I hang off the side of the monkey bars all the time, how is it that I'm bad at this contest?"

Coach Thompson shook his head, "I saw you drop because you don't have upper body strength. You just answered your own question"

"I do have good upper body strength," Christina protested. She knew the difference between grip strength and upper body strength in general. She had upper body strength in spades, but barely any grip strength. "I just -"

"no, you don't, and if you did, you would be the first one to drop." Coach Thompson didn't seem to care.

It wasn't the only thing happening around them. Susie Waterman, another strong contender, found herself in an awkward situation. A pressing need to pee led to her dropping from the monkey bars to use the bathroom. Her feet touched the ground upon landing, disqualifying her from the contest.

Seeing Susie need the bathroom made Anna Frasier also feel the need to pee. Unlike Susie, Anna dropped from the monkey bars onto all fours and crawled towards the bathroom with her feet raised in the air to avoid breaking the "feet on the ground" rule. Unfortunately, someone walking his dog accidentally tripped over her. That ended her bid to be the last one hanging.

Elizabeth laughed. "What did Chris say this time?" Joanne asked.

"Nothing, that guy just tripped"

"Is he OK?" Joanne asked as a look of worry etched over her face.

She turned around to see what the commotion was about. From the sound of it, the guy who tripped on Anna knocked out two front teeth and busted his collarbone. Unfortunately, she no longer faced forward, leading to her disqualification.

It didn't take long for everyone to regard Elizabeth as the favorite to win, given her remarkable strength and determination. But mere minutes from the end of the contest, Elizabeth shifted her hand from the side of the monkey bars to the monkey bar itself, instantly disqualifying herself from the competition.

Beverly Lewis surprised everyone. She hung on for an impressive 42.4 minutes, securing her position as the undisputed winner of the contest.

Overjoyed, Beverly reveled in her triumph. Then she actually looked at the check. She discovered the cash prize was only $100, not the $10,000 she had anticipated.

"There's something wrong with this check," Beverly exclaimed, furrowing her brows. She had to wave her hand in front of Coach Thompson to get his attention.

Coach Thompson couldn't have cared less. "Yeah, what's the matter?" he inquired, a hint of concern in his voice.

"It's for 100 dollars," Beverly said incredulously. "You told us the cash prize was $10,000!"

The promise of a ten-thousand-dollar cash prize had been the driving force behind the girls' unwavering determination throughout the contest. The supposed reward felt like a cruel joke.

Coach Thompson's realizing the gravity of the situation and proceeded to ignore it. "That was a typo, that's why," he admitted as he stared at his phone.

"A typo?!" Beverly couldn't believe what she heard. "Then why didn't you say anything?"

Coach Thompson's demeanor hardened, his resolve strengthening in the face of Beverly's protest. "Hey, be lucky you got anything!" he snapped. He hoped Beverly would leave.

She didn't. A loud and ugly argument ensued.

Christina watched Beverly and the coach get into a shouting match about the prize money. Knowing that the prize for the contest wasn't worth the effort took the sting out of being the first one out.

@alookseeblog

[torialefay]

very much not alone in this, anon.

i think ruby said it best, and i know we've all talked ab this before, but it has to be super hard on him with even trying to see anyone.

it's only natural that we idolize the kids so incredibly much, and the fanfics that we write reflect that. i think all of us understand, on some scale, how busy they are. but most of us have never & will never ACTUALLY experience it. we all think that it'd be hard to be with someone who was gone so much, but a lot of us don't consider if we could actually even do it.

i mean, imagine how hard it really WOULD BE to date an idol.

firstly, you probably wouldn't have tons and tons of time to meet up/go on dates with them in the first place. even when they're home, they're incredibly busy cramming their work in. so even if you were interested in each other, it would likely take monthssss to get to the point of seeing each other enough to know if you want to be together. and THAT in itself is a feat. idk if anyone else has ever experienced this, but from personal experience, a lot of the spark loses itself when you feel like you're getting nowhere after months and months of the "talking" stage. it's even faster to burn out when you begin to feel like an afterthought (even if you aren't and they're just busy). so even INITIATING a relationship with one of them would be difficult.

but then maintaining a relationship is a whole other feat. again, it gets into the "not being able to see each other" and "feeling like you're going no where" zone. there are only so many "i miss you" texts that you can make before you eventually feel so lonely that you don't even know why you're there. it ultimately turns more into a feeling of routine & obligation than one of love. it's stagnant and there's absolutely no room for change. so even if you manage to get into a relationship, it's incredibly hard to maintain once the timing of their availability shifts.

i say this for chris because i agree that i think he'd have a hard time with one night stands (again, i could be wrong). but his vibes & the way he talks to usbsometimes really does give off that "i miss you so much" or teasingly long distance vibes. it makes you feel better for a while anyways.

so i'd say that although it'd be extremely easy for chris to meet someone, he isn't stupid. he's literally about to turn 27 yesrs old & he knows what goes into maintaining a relationship with someone. if he is the type that wants something real and deep, he is gonna have a super fucking hard time doing that. which is so lonely and makes me so sad.

so yeah, of course he's probably sexually frustrated. he may even be tempted to give into some things he shouldn't be doing at this point... but then again, he's got skz's reputation to look at for so he literally probably can't.

long story short, i feel bad for the guy. i hope he has lots of lubricant for all the work his hands are doing :(

Am I alone in thinking that Chris is very sexually frustrated? Like idk man, I don't think this is behaviour of a dude that's getting it a lot, this is giving lonely guy desperate for connection 😭😭

No you're not alone, as much as I hope he's got a partner for real-

I feel inclined to say gf but Chris hasn't confessed he's into women but idk he just gives me hetero energy okay?

Do I think they're all into women? Yes

Do I think they're all straight? No

He's giving me the vibes of a man who's frustrated for real with his bubble messages and his fancalls, no one delves into the parasocial relationship like he does w/o getting something in return.

Felix is the same- have you seen his Bubble messages? they're like wedding vows for real, he'll write paragraph length sentences about how much he loves and is grateful for Stays.

He is a Scorpio Venus so NDA's and the streets aren't going to satisfy him for long and he's very protective of his image so I doubt he'd risk it anyway.

The minute ppl stan him with other girl groups or tell him about a dating rumour he'll immediately shut it down by saying 'what? they're like a sister to me'

So i do think it's just his hand and his intrusive thoughts and fantasies (whatever they are- I still don't know what he would think about to get himself off) that are keeping him company and the sheets warm.

Idk for how long because it seems like he's been bitchless for a very long time.

I think probably the closest he's going to get to a lay w/o it affecting his career is if he cozies up to one of the makeup artists or assistants that's always around him.

I personally feel that's why his solo stages are always so sensual- it's because he's gotta put his horny thoughts and energy SOMEWHERE and that's the best option for him.

I'll tag my other babygirls and see what they say.

@torialefay @gnabnahcsworld @scuzmunkie @chansfavouritetoy @lyramundana @berryberrytan

[tinseltine]

THE MARVELS | Marvel Studio Writer/Director Nia DaCosta  

4.5 outta 5 – I’m so glad I’ve been re-watching the MCU in Timeline Order (MCU University), next up for me is Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2, so I re-watched Captain Marvel just a couple months ago, and it still felt fresh in my mind. I’ve also seen Ms Marvel and Secret Invasion on Disney+ so in combination I felt more centered and involved while watching The Marvels. I liked that there's a lot of levity throughout, less zany than a Taika Waititi helmed Marvel movie, but still good unexpected fun! The Flerkins are hilarious, yet I can’t figure out why Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) still finds them so adorable knowing one cost him his eye !?! The 3 leads (Brie Larson) (Tenoyah Parris ) (Iman Vellani)  have absolutely genuine chemistry and they manage to form an equal team, not Captain Marvel and her two sidekicks.

WISH | Disney  Directors Chris Buck & Fawn Veerasunthorn

4 outta 5  - I liked the storyline.  I hear a lot of critics saying feels like Disney propaganda and too many 100th Anniversary Easter Eggs. I didn’t feel that at all.  The little homages to Disney’s beloved past blended in nicely and didn’t distract from the current movie for me.  The villain, Magnifico (Chris Pine) has an interesting arc. In his quest to protect people from the heartbreak of not being able to manifest their dreams, he takes away their desire and gives them a good, safe, happy life on a multi-cultural island. It seemed like a good deal to me, so at first I too felt Asha (Ariana Debose) is just stirring up unnecessary trouble asking about the ungranted wishes. But of course, as they say, absolute power, corrupts absolutely – Manifico’s ego completely wipes out his original good intentions.

RUSTIN| Netflix /The Obama’s Higher Ground Director George C. Wolfe

3.5 outta 5 - I think it’s incredibly insidious the way this important figure in Civil Rights History was nearly erased because of his sexual orientation.  I’ll never understand why that has mattered so much throughout history. In terms of the movie, completely agree, this is a tour-de-force role for Philly’s own Colman Domingo. But I’ll admit I wasn’t fully engaged in the scenes the first 15-20 minutes, then as momentum picked up, I found myself swept up into the politics and renewed remembrance of the importance of the movement, similar to how I felt watching SELMA.

MAY DECEMBER| Netflix | Director Todd Haynes

3.5 outta 5  - I was particularly impressed with Natalie Portman’s character who manages to seem like a humble actress, just so grateful for being invited into this family’s home and confidence. Until you realize she’s a real shit stirrer and narcissist.

Julianne Moore’s Gracie is an even bigger narcissist, so the two women have met their match. It’s Gracie’s kids, both from her first marriage and current that you feel for, as they had no choice in being collateral damage to their mother’s bad judgement; not to mention, Gracie’s very manipulative in the way she speaks to them.  

SHARE?| XYZ Films Writer/Director Ira Rosensweig

4 outta 5 - I will admit, I was thinking of giving up after the first 10 minutes, because for us as the viewer, the perspective of the text is backwards on the screen, which is mildly frustrating, as you have to train your eyes to read what the computer screen is telling the prisoner in reverse. But eventually you get past this or get better at it and start to appreciate the scifi concept of the film.  An unnamed young man (Melvin Gregg) wakes up on the floor in his underwear in a dimly lighted, sterile room, pretty much a prison cell without bars, just blank walls, evoking a tech feel. The back wall provides a urinal and a small shower. The front wall, which we see from behind, contains a computer screen and there’s a keyboard.

PRISCILLA| A24 | Writer/Director Sofia Coppola

3.5 outta 5 - I feel my main complaint of the movie is that I didn’t learn anything new about the wife of Elvis, other than that they slept in the same bed for years and he never touched her until she turned 21 and they married. But since she had no one to confide in and we don’t experience her writing in a journal, we pretty much just witness everything we already knew about the pair, which left me a bit dissatisfied.

READ FULL POST ON ALL 6 MOVIES (MiniMovieExtravaganza18)

[ssinboo]

Here You Come Again

summary: Five years after your dreaded break up, Christopher Bahng returns to his hometown. You thought it’d be easy to just ignore his existence, that is, until you’re stuck taking care of him and his two broken limbs.

pairing: ex!Chan x ex!f!reader (Reader does read on the thiccer side and should be racially neutral, but if she isn’t let me know!)

word count: 8.4k

warnings: Lots of longing and heartbreak, mentions of hospital and implied accident, angsty vibes, reader is quite insecure at times, pure smut, oral (m rec.), unprotected sex, creampie, fluffy epilogue.

a/n: my first fic on this acc, I’m so happy to share with you!

“Christopher and I are over, that’s final,” You exclaim, rounding the office and heading toward your cubicle with a very frustrated Felix in tow.

All week, all he can talk about is Christopher’s awaited return and how you, as the one and only ex-girlfriend, shouldn't just quietly acknowledge his existence but throw him a freaking welcome party.

“That’s not what I’m saying—“ He huffs, leaning over the half-walls that separate your desks. “There’s nothing wrong with being amicable and welcoming him home.”

You sigh, “Lix, we’ve been broken up for ages now, it’d be totally weird.”

“You guys were together for way longer than you are broken up,” He says, as a matter of factly. 

You roll your eyes.

It was true, you and Christopher were once inseparable, glued at the hip from middle school, all the way through university. However, a little after your graduation, he moved to pursue his dreams and your relationship just couldn’t survive the distance and stress of real life.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yes, it does!” Felix stares at you like you've gone absolutely mental. “You guys were together for so long for a reason! You were basically perfect.”

You don’t respond, pretending to be busy with your spreadsheets.  

“No one expected you guys to break up.”

“Both of us did, that’s why we broke up. It was mutual, we agreed it was for the best.”

“No it wasn’t! Neither of you asked me!” You chuckle at that. “It was like my parents’ divorce all over…”

Felix rolls closer on his wheeled chair and crosses his arms, giving you a puppy-eyed pout. 

“Your parents got back together.”

“And so should you—”

You’re about to respond and possibly curse him off when your phone rings and that cheesy ringtone has never brought you as much relief. 

“Duty calls,” You shoo Felix away to his own cubicle and pick up your phone. “Yes, this is her.”

Felix watches your faint smile completely disappear before you manage to stutter out confirmations. 

He leans over worriedly. 

“I’ll be coming right over.”

Your hands shake as you gather up your bag and haphazardly shove your belongings in. 

“I— I need you to tell them I’m leaving early today.”

“Who? What happened?”

"It was the hospital, Christopher is in the hospital—“

Your voice gets stuck in your throat, but Felix realises the situation. 

“Don’t worry, just… Do what you need to do, I’ll handle it here.”

Arriving at the Hospital, your legs carry you over automatically, mind half out-of-it until you’re face to face with the room that holds his name. 

You think about it for a second, considering just calling his mum — it’s not like you ever deleted his parents’ number — and chickening out. But you’re caught by a very friendly nurse who half-escorts- half-drags you inside.

And you see him. 

The love of your whole life up until five years ago. The owner of your smiles, your kisses, your heart and every fiber of your being. Until everything came crumbling down.

And he looks… Great. Better than a vengeful, mean part of you wished he looked. 

His hair is bleached a light blond, his curls almost completely gone. Skin paler than ever — you didn’t believe that was possible, but here he is. Chris makes the ugly hospital gown look like designer.

And he seems more than surprised to see you, like you were the last person he was expecting — Because you probably were. Out of everyone the social butterfly knew, his ex-girlfriend shouldn’t be on the top list of people to get you out of hospital. 

“Hey,” You manage to say, giving him an awkward wave. 

“Hey,” He croaks back, immediately clearing his throat afterward.

You walk toward the bed slowly as the nurse goes about her business. 

He’s got a cast on his right arm as well as a boot on his right foot. You hiss at the purple bruising visible along his neck.

“How— How did you—“ Chris stutters, unsure of how to phrase his curiosity.

Your eyes don’t meet his face. You can’t bear to look at the sunken, sickly complexion without wishing to caress and kiss his ailments away.

“They called me,” You explained quietly, “I’m your emergency contact… Still.”

Christopher closes his eyes, whining loudly at himself. “Ah…” He brings his hand to his face, forgetting it’s clad in gesso and does an awkward half-facepalm. “I’m so— so sorry. I didn’t know they’d call you, I totally forgot I had you listed as my emergency contact—“

You flash him a reassuring smile, “It’s fine… Don’t worry about it.”

You want to speak more, to ask him how the years have been, how he’s been but you’re pulled away to fill paperwork about his release. When you’re finally done, the nurse wheels him back in. He doesn’t speak, only holding onto his smashed phone and the crutch. 

The nurse accompanies you to the parking lot and helps load Chris into the passenger side of your Sedan. You shove the crutch on the backseat, silently hoping it won’t slip and accidentally hit one of you or something. 

“So, where to?” You ask, fastening your own seatbelt. Christopher is about to undo his, only waiting for the nurse to disappear from view. 

“You don’t have to— I can just get an Uber.”

Your eyes tell him you think he’s crazy, “Christopher, I am not leaving you in this parking lot when you can barely walk.”

The way his body slightly jumps at the sound of his name goes unnoticed. He doesn’t respond.

“Are you staying with your parents?”

“Yeah,” He nods. Deciding a ride can’t be that weird between exes, right? It’s like Uber. You’re practically strangers, except you’ve seen each other naked. 

The awkward silence is deafening once the car slides into a smooth hum. 

“How are they?” You chose to fill it with small talk. 

“Mhm?”

“Your parents.”

“Ah,  they’re— they’re doing well. Dad’s retired now.”

“Is he?!” You smile widely, keeping your eyes focused on the road. 

“Yeah, he’s driving Mum absolutely mental. He’s constantly bored, you know how he is.”

“Yeah, I know… He could not stand Sundays when we used to just laze around.”

You practically lived at their house. Living so close by, you would walk to and from school with Chris. You’d do your homework on his bedroom floor before running outside to enjoy the weather. And at night you’d catch on a late-night run of The Simpsons. You shake your head at your teenage self and the insane amount of somewhat-wasted freetime. 

Chris laughs, “Oh, God, yeah! I swear nothing would make him as angry as just seeing us doing absolutely nothing.” 

And then, the awkwardness of missed intimacy settles in, realising you know too much but still too little of the person sitting next to you. 

Goddammit. 

The memory coats your tongue in bittersweetness, the longing for the good times and his fucking laugh bring nothing but an empty feeling at the pit of your stomach. Like when you pat your pocket and think you lost something, but instead of your phone or your keys it’s your childhood best friend.

Pulling up at his childhood home fills you with nostalgia and it’s almost Deja-vu like the view you have of the bright white garage door and the light blue panelling. There’s an old crack on the driveway from when you were helping bring in the exercise set his dad bought and it came crashing onto the concrete, blowing a large hole. 

You get out of the car and pull his crutch from the backseat, having to tell Chris to not move before. 

“Is your Mum in?” 

It’d be a shameless lie to say you weren’t dying to see them again. Mr and Mrs Bahng, the sweetest couple who practically raised you with how much time you spent over. 

“Uh— Yeah, she’s probably making dinner… or something,” He mutters, somewhat quickening his pace. 

Chris fumbles with his keys, seemingly missing the keyhole every time. 

Finally, the key goes in and he opens the front door. 

“I’d like to see her before I go,” He freezes, “—Please? I’ll just say Hi, it’d be rude not to.”

“No— It’s not—“

You catch up, looking into the front windows and realising every light is out and there isn’t a sign of them anywhere. 

“Are they out?”

“…Yeah?”

“Oh, no…I’ll wait until they come back, I can’t possibly leave you by yourself…”

And you walk inside like you belonged— Mostly because you did, you faded into that suburban family home, you settled into the memories, your essence in every wall and every piece of furniture. Every memory of his childhood. 

“No!”

You jump. 

“Chris?—” 

“You—You’ve done enough! It’s fine! Thank you!” He stumbles over his words and his crutches, trying to balance his weight on his good foot. 

“What if you fall while they’re out? I can’t in good conscience leave you all by yourself!” 

He sighs loudly, tightly shutting his eyes as the realisation of his options wash over. Be a better liar or just stop being an awkward coward and tell you the truth.

“They’re travelling.”

And you know what that means.

“…They don’t know you’re hurt.”

Chris doesn’t look at you. 

And you shake your head in disbelief because of fucking course he just pretended like he hadn’t been hit by a fucking car. Because you know with every bone in your body that his parents would never be okay with being away from him at all, let alone when he was hurt. 

“This is serious! They need to know.” 

“No, no, they don’t.” He shakes his head like you don’t understand the situation and you don’t because there isn’t anything to understand. “They’ve been looking forward to this trip.” 

“You’ve got broken bones, for fuck’s sake,” You raise your voice, “What’s a fuckin’ trip when their precious son comes home for once and he needs them!” 

Your words come out a lot more emotional than you meant and you both seem to realise. Chris finally stares at you, pressing his lips tightly shut at the sight of your teary eyes. 

“Don’t pretend like everyone else’s lives have priority…Please.” Your voice cracks.

“I—“ He closes his eyes with a sigh, “Yeah…”

He doesn’t speak, letting your words plunge heavy on his chest, every rebuttal getting stuck on his vocal chords and never making it past his throat.  Because he knows you’re fucking right. Like you always are. 

“Chris, unless you can find someone else— An adult, to look after you, I am not leaving.”

Christopher doesn’t come out of his room the whole afternoon after you helped him upstairs. And you know you’re overstepping much more than you ever should. You’re one of the last people he wants to see right now but you can’t help but worry. 

You make a simple dinner with whatever is in the fridge and make him a plate, walking upstairs balancing the meal — incredibly thankful for whoever invented trays. 

Chris has his laptop laid over his thighs, spread over the one leg that isn’t propped up over way too many pillows. 

And it’s a somewhat familiar scene that almost makes you stutter, pinch yourself and long for what’s forever gone— You shake it off.

“Hey,” You breathe out, catching his attention and when his eyes meet yours, you feel your knees grow weak. “Dinner time.”

“Oh, thanks,” He is pleasantly surprised, pushing the laptop aside and adjusting himself to receive the tray.

“Nothing too fancy,” You shrug. “I hope it’s good.” 

“It looks great.”

The way he smiles so child-like, looking at the messy plate of pasta like it’s the greatest thing ever, just tugs at your heartstrings. 

“I’ll let you eat,” You say.

Chris looks up with sad puppy eyes. “What? You’re not eating with me?” 

“What?” You’re surprised to say the least, “Do you want me to?” 

“Yeah… It’s pretty lonely,” He chuckles. 

“Okay.” 

You try to contain your smile as you rush downstairs and fix yourself a plate. 

As you pull up a chair next to his bed, he’s pulling up a Youtube Video on his laptop. It’s an old episode of a 90`s show you remember catching on TV late at night. 

“Wow. Your suggestions are just korean, huh?” You chuckle weakly. There’s an underlying meaning to this other side of him you’ll never know. You had picked up certain words and phrases growing up together and could be somewhat conversational given the other party spoke very slowly. Never really getting the hang of reading the alphabet. 

Chris scratches at his neck, chuckling back, “Yeah, pretty much. I forget sometimes.” 

You hum.

“How was it?” 

He looks at you, almost cooing at the way you stuff your cheeks with pasta. “Korea?” 

“Living there, your job… Everything,” 

With a big sigh, he smiles fondly, “Well,” You stare at your food. “It was great. An amazing learning experience. It’s completely different from uni, actually working with artists and getting work done.” 

A summer in middle school, a cousin of his travelled to visit. He was a self-titled rapper that taught Chris everything from writing to mixing in an archaic software. You remember the remixes of your favourite songs and the CDs he would burn and write your name on with sharpie. 

Somehow, his love for music never faded. Throughout high-school he was self-taught and he managed to only ever get better. You remember falling asleep as he strummed the guitar, trying to get the right chords and waking up from your nap to a brand-new melody. 

A little before you both graduated, his cousin reached out. He had long given up his rap career, but offered housing in case Chris wanted to try out a job at a big company. 

So he did. He left. 

You force yourself to smile, pushing down the selfish part of you that regrets not begging him to stay. He got his dream. And it wasn’t you. "That 's… Great. I’m happy for you. I’m happy it worked out.” 

You were happy, of course you were. The past five years you’ve stalked his social media and soundcloud, you know his discography by heart. He made you proud, always did and always will. 

Chris stares at you for almost a minute, and you can’t decipher the reason his eyes look so pained right now.

“How about you?”

Biting your lip, you poke at the noodles. How can you face him and not say you’ve done nothing but miss him? 

“Great.” You say,  “Really good, I work in my area and… It’s really… great” 

Chris smiles, nodding. “Wow… that’s great.” 

You hum in agreement.

Silence. 

“So…” You both say at once.

And it eases the tension, getting a good chuckle out.

“Go on,” Chris nods.

“What brought you here after so long?” 

He hesitates. “Missed…” You “…Friends and family, you know.” 

“Yeah… I imagine it’s pretty lonely.” 

“Yeah.” 

“What did you wanna ask?”

“Ah…” He studies your face, seemingly nervous and you hope he doesn’t ask anything weird. “…Have you… Have you met anyone?” 

Something like that. 

You almost choke on your food. 

“…I’ve just been busy.” Busy being heartbroken. “You?” 

The laugh track coming from his laptop as one of the characters says something witty makes you want to punch the screen.

He ponders for a second, “…I tried but… None of them were the right one, y’know?” None of them were you. 

“Yeah— Totally, I get that.”

“Yeah…”

You close your eyes, regretting this conversation altogether. You certainly don’t want to think about Christopher’s love life, not when it doesn’t involve you any longer. 

“Are— Are you done?” 

He stares at you before you gesture toward the plate and he realises, “Yeah. Thanks. It was great.” 

“Great.”

Wanting nothing but to take your brain out and pressure wash it, you simply gather up your plate on his tray and pick it up.

“I’ll be taking the guest room, so just yell if you need anything.” 

“Are you sleeping in that?” 

You turn around, “What?”

“Well, you’re wearing jeans. Isn’t it uncomfortable?” 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“You—You can borrow something of mine.” 

And your stupid heart skips another fucking beat. 

Walking downstairs and finding you wearing his shirt, focused on the recipe onscreen as you flip pancakes, Christopher is hit with a wave of nostalgia. He stands at the doorway, trying to settle his breathing. 

He wants to wrap his arms around your waist, pick you up, shower you in kisses and never let go. Instead, he quietly takes a seat at the table.

“Good morning,” 

You jump. “Hey, why are you out? I was gonna give you breakfast in bed.” 

Like you used to when—

“Had to pee.” 

That was a bold faced lie. He woke up with a mess in his pants, literally. His brain tricked him with a wet dream of you coming to him all needy, your pretty eyes and your sly smile. 

Chris grumbled his way into the bathroom and struggled to pull his shorts and boxers off and put on a fresh set of shorts. Pulling on underwear over a boot and with only one arm had to be some kind of olympic sport. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

You sound so genuinely worried, he almost feels bad for only thinking that you helping meant you being in close proximity of his dick. 

“…Needed to go real bad.”

You chuckle, “Next time just call me, what if you hurt yourself?” 

“Thanks…” Chris mutters, focusing on the pancakes. Pancakes don’t have a great set of legs peeking out of a nightshirt, *his shirt. 

And he shoves down his breakfast like it will run anyway at any moment. Anything so he won’t reminisce on what could’ve been, on how familiar this all feels.

“So, what are your plans for today?” You ask expectedly. The way you’re way too eager to help send the blood rushing down his body. 

“Uh, I stink so…” He laughs it off.

“Oh, I’ll get the bathtub ready.” You say it so nonchalantly like the idea of helping Chris bathe doesn’t drive you as crazy as it drives him. 

“W-What?” 

“Well,” You laugh, “You have like two out of four functioning limbs, right now.” 

“Yeah, but—“ The way the blood immediately rushes down his body doesn’t allow for any arguments against what you said. Fuck. 

Chris opens his mouth again to speak but he is interrupted by the deafening ringtone he set on his phone, his eyes glance at the screen with a curse. Fucking Changbin. 

“No buts, I’ll get the tap running and come back down to help you up, okay?” You leave before he can respond, happy to win the one-sided argument. 

When you come back downstairs, Chris quickly ends his calls with a pissed off huff. Surprised, you stop.

“You okay?” 

“Yeah.” He brushes it off, leaning over the table to get up.

Quickly, you rush to his side and hold tightly at his waist as you make your way back into his room. You had pushed his desk chair into the suite so he could sit somewhere and not dangerously wade wet linoleum while you got everything ready. 

“How are we gonna do this?” You bite your lip, eyeing at his cast. Submerging them would be a terrible idea, even after using almost an entire roll of cling film. 

“I can sit with my leg out,” He blurts out and you nod. Yep, that seemed to be the only way this was gonna work.

“Yeah, that’s good.” When you turn off the tap and instinctively reach out for his clothes, he jumps. “Sorry—“ You cringe at your actions, pulling away instantly.

Chris shrugs, seeming so distant. You wondered if you were overstepping here, I mean, who were you to help him bathe? He probably felt uncomfortable getting naked in front of you. 

“Do you have any soap here?” You busy yourself with eyeing his empty tub.

“In my bag.” 

When you come back with the black pouch filled with toiletries, he’s managed to shrug off most of his clothes, leaving only his underpants. You freeze in your steps, eyes met with the sight of his unblemished body. 

He’s filled up with perfectly sculpted muscle and healthy skin, a far cry from the lanky teen you adored. You can’t help but swoon at how mature he looks. 

Pushing away at those thoughts begging you to ogle his adonis-like body, you focus on the task at hand. 

Once he is in the tub, you sit at the edge. Grabbing the soap bottle and pouring some in a clean loofah you found by the sink. 

You hand it to him, deciding against washing his body lest you make him any more uncomfortable. Busying yourself with laying down his toiletries, you don’t catch the sullen look that stamps his face at your silence. 

When you catch sight of the shampoo bottle however, you can’t help the tiny smile that finds your lips.

“No fucking way we use the same shampoo!” You exclaim, studying the bottle closely. Chris looks away, focusing on cleaning himself. 

“Is it— Is it the same you use?” 

“Yeah,” you chuckle, the scent of honey and cocoa filling the bathroom as you open it up with a loud click. “Mhmm, smells so good.” He visibly gulps at the sound of your delighted moan. “Such a coincidence.”

“Yeah—“ He clears his throat. “Yeah.” 

“D’you need help?” You ask quietly, lowering the bottle until it joins the others by the floor.

Chris tries to reach his back but gives up and hands you the loofah. 

You give him a soft smile and lean forward, promptly washing the bits he couldn’t reach with his left arm.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

He sighs and for a second, you think you shouldn’t have asked, but he answers.

“Yeah— It’s just. Work.” 

“Ah,” Letting out a sympathetic groan, you giggle, “Of course.” 

He shrugs.

You pull his torso forward, lightly running the loofah over his back, and he is very tempted to lay his head on your lap. The way you hold his neck so delicately when moving his body, how you make sure at all times that he’s okay, it washes away any hesitation. 

“Work isn’t great.” 

“Rough patch?” 

“Actually… It was never really great to begin with.”

He waits for the pin to drop, for you to stare at him like he’s insane; an ingrate. Anyone would kill to be at where he’s at currently — working at one of the top agencies and with the greatest groups of the century. Or you would laugh and tell him you were right all along when you told him to not be afraid of new opportunities but to make sure it was right.

But you furrow your eyebrows with such concern.

“what?” your voice is so soft.

“…It was good at first, I— I got to experience a lot of things but…” He exhales, “I can’t be me. I— I can’t do anything experimental, anything that isn’t certain to be a success with a catchy chorus and stupid choreo that will spread like wildfire…” 

His tense shoulders carry five years worth of stress when he runs his hand through his hair and huffs.

“I’m exhausted… That’s why I left.” 

“You left? You left the company? F-For good?” 

It would be a straight lie to say your stomach didn’t bloom elated butterflies at the sound of that.

“yeah… But they want me back. They’re offering me a shitton of money but… I don’t know.” 

You resume your washing, running the loofah over his neck and chest.

“Do you need it?” 

“I mean… I’m not exactly lacking money, I’m doing pretty fucking well, yeah? But it’s such a big number… I feel foolish rejecting it.” 

“Are you happy?”

Chris looks up to stare at you. “What?”

“You used to say, your music made you the happiest,” You hum, “Are you happy right now? If not, what’s missing?” 

He freezes, reflecting for a good while. The past five years of his life flashing before his eyes, every single day he was slowly drained away of his sanity. What was missing from this life he was living?

You.

“…Thanks.” Chris whispers out in a hoarse voice. You stop, leaning back to face him.

“You are the most passionate man I’ve ever met, please, don’t let anyone kill that” 

“Thank you, truly.”

When he smiles, you see a twinkle appear in his eyes. 

“I’m gonna get you a towel, can you finish up by yourself?”

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You hand him back the loofah and he leans back, shyly shimmying away his pants and quickly making sure his private parts are clean. He considers putting his used underwear back on, looking at the shameful semi he’s currently sporting. 

God, you’d think he’s a right pervert.

Here you were being helpful and kind, meanwhile he’s struggling to keep his cock quiet while you’re so close and you smell so good. And your body, God, everytime you moved, he got just a little preview of how you looked under the oversized tee. You were wearing his shirt, too and the scent of his cologne mixing with your body wash and perfume was driving him absolutely insane because you smelled like him.

Chris is in the middle of struggling his wet boxers over his boot when he hears your footsteps in the hallway, in a panic he gets rid of the underwear in the only way he knows how; throwing it out of sight, it lands with a loud thwap behind the door.

Great, now he doesn’t have anything.

You lay a towel down over the seat of the chair and another over the counter. You reach over the tub, making sure your legs are steady over tile, and hold his forearm, pulling upward. When you reach to hold his torso, you’re met with his bare cock, out just like that.

“Oh!”

Instinctively, you jump back, stumbling over your feet, totally not realising you let go of him.

Chris crashes back down with a loud splash and you scream.

“OH MY GOD!”

You’re both absolutely mortified.

You just saw his dick and proceeded to drop him like a bag of shit. And he is sitting there naked and vulnerable with a sore butt, he can’t say you ever reacted like that to the sight of his cock before. 

“I am so sorry—“ You mutter over and over, helping him back up at once. “Gosh, I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine— I’m fine.” 

“No, it’s not, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just did that.” You’re almost soaked by the time he’s safely sitting on the chair. 

“I’m fine, see? Still here.” 

And you both stare at each other before he cracks up. 

What a stupid fucking scene.

You absolutely reciprocate his laughter with your own, doubling over, holding your stomach. 

God, how foolish did the two of you look? 

Once your eyes met his nakedness, you just blurted out an “Oh” and practically threw him across the room. 

When the laughter dies down, you’re caught in a staring contest and you both drink in the atmosphere; It’s the missed domesticity of a lost Sunday in July when you’d come home and fool around with no worries in sight.

Back then, you looked at him like he hung the stars and the moon, with your sparkling innocent eyes and dreamy smile, he was the centre of your everything and he never realised just how much he had until he lost you. 

“God, I’m mortified,” You laugh lazily, stretching up from your position to reach for the towel.

Chris snaps from his thoughts, giving you a quiet giggle as a response, “How do you think I feel? I’m butthurt… Literally”

You snort.

He can’t help the adoring smile that finds his lips. Ever present even when you shove the towel into his face, muttering a loud “shut up”.

Starlit eyes are glued to you as you run the soft microfiber over his body with remarkable care. Oh, he doesn’t miss the coy bite of your lower lip when you fingers trace his stomach or the audible gulp that leaves your throat when you eye his thighs.

God, the heat blooming in your cheeks was nearing borderline dangerous levels with how it quickly spread through your chest and… down.

And then you accidentally brush the back of your hand against his member and Chris lets out the most delightful sigh.

You flinch, muttering a quick sorry and crawling away from him as fast as you could.

“You should be able to finish up by yourself, I put a towel down before so you could wrap yourself up,” You clear your throat, smoothing your clothes as you exit the bathroom, calming your racing heart down.

What you didn’t expect coming back however, was the sight of Chris quickly wrapping the towel around his fully hard cock with a blush. 

God.

Oh my god.

Brain absolutely unable to calm down, your body is stuck on autopilot as you help him get rid of the cling wrap. Your eyes absolutely refuse to meet his, even as your hands are over his bare chest and your bodies are glued together walking back into his bedroom. No, you can’t let him see just how much this affected you. 

When he sits down at the bed and you’re promptly gathering him clean clothes, his boner is clearer than ever before. That towel must feel absolutely harassed.

Your eyes can’t help but wander off to the evident bulge, the awareness of his painful erection eats away at your brain. How can you do anything else now that you have seen his boner? 

Chris clears his throat awkwardly, looking anywhere other than your face. 

“Do… Do you want me to help?” 

And Christopher practically freezes in place, his eyes widening larger than you’d ever seen. His heart beating so dang fast it might just explode. “W—What?!”

You must be out of your mind if you think you’re going to give your ex a handjob. You’re not that kind of girl, you know better than that. Your friends would kill you. Helping him was bad news, you should’ve just called someone else.

Because you’re seriously considering it. 

Closing your eyes, you blurt it out. “I can help. I will help you.” 

He doesn’t say a word, staring at your face.

“…If you want…” As you complete your sentence, it’s more of a question than anything else. 

And then Christopher swallows his saliva, staring at you with such desire, so much longing you feel more alive than any time the past five years. 

“…Please.” His voice is a hoarse plea and it brings you to your knees. 

You crash into his mattress, leaning over his body to stabilise yourself. Nothing fills your brain but the tempting desire to touch him again, to feel all of him.

Hands trembling, you undo the towel from his waist. A sigh leaves your lips at the sight of his cock, hard and angry and… begging for your touch. The mere graze of your fingers along his thighs makes his dick throb. 

You run your digits over his length, the emanating heat burns your skin with desire. As you wrap your whole hand around him, his body jerks. You stroke up and down, slowly working up a steady pace and getting used to feeling all of him. 

Betrayed by your body, you feel yourself getting aroused at the sight. Every inch of your skin that touches his pulsates with want. 

God, he was always too hot for his own good. 

Chris was scrawny during your years together, the slender, athletic type. But now, he’s filled in so deliciously, even excluding his stupidly perfect abs, his shoulders are even broader and his arms, god, his arms are so big now. 

You want to kiss every bit of his body, discover every new mole, every scar, find out what you’ve missed. You want to know his body like your own. 

He breathes in, running his hand over his face and biting his lip, it’s getting harder and harder to hold back his moans. Chris knows that if he lets go, he will call you baby like he used to.

Second hand joining in, you lick your lips, eyes drifting to watch his face contort. The toned muscles of his stomach jump every time your finger rubs his head and he hisses, because he’s very much aware you know that drives him crazy.

You were mad to think of giving your ex a handjob. But you were even crazier to consider sucking him off.

The arousal must’ve burnt off your brain cells because the next minute you’re peppering kisses up his length, letting saliva drip down while you swirl your tongue around his head.

Chris almost came right there and then. He throws his head back with a loud whine. 

You clench your thighs, slowing down your hands while you focus on wrapping your lips around him. Your head bobs up and down, you hum when you feel the weight of his fingers tangled in your hair.

Letting one hand wander, you’re caressing his skin, feeling his toned stomach jump under your hand, kneading at his waist, letting your fingernails redden his pale skin.  

When he opens his eyes, Christopher is delightfully surprised by your teary eyes looking up at him with such blinding innocence like you weren’t sucking the life out of his cock right now. Every hum sending goosebumps up his spine and the lewd, wet sound making him throb harder. 

You struggle to fit it all, but your pride and greed have you gagging, making sure to reach the very back of your throat. 

“Oh, God…”

That’s how he reaches his limit, shooting his load down your throat with a hoarse, desperate cry that echoes in the empty house. His body arches so beautifully, pale skin coated in a layer of sweat, leaving a silky sheen over his muscles. You find yourself growing even crazier over Christopher Bahng. 

And then his eyes flutter open and he looks at you so longingly you trick yourself into believing he still loves you as much as you love him. Because when he carefully brings you up and whispers such a quaint “You did so well, so good— so. so good.” 

His fingers fucking carress your cheek like he always did and it’s so stupidly loving. It’s such an intimate act when he fixes your hair and wipes the remaining cum off the corner of your lip. 

The way you melt into the palm of your, your eyes closed, your lips glistening under the sheen of his come, has Chris���s mind going numb. How he wanted nothing other than to hold you and fuck you so good until you cried. He wanted nothing but to give you immeasurable pleasure.

But it’s a notification on his phone that wakes you from your daze. The unsettling guilt falling into the pit of your stomach. You pull away from his touch as if it were toxic. 

“Well—“ You say, adjusting your hair and clothes, avoiding his eyes above all. Not able to bear the adoring look he holds right now. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” 

And he panics. At this exact moment, Chris is confused about most emotions but one — He wants you to stay.

“Let me repay you,” It’s a timid plead, echoing in the quiet home.

“What?” 

“I wanna eat you out—“ Chris confesses, “I want you to ride my face like you always did. Want your thighs to crush my head—“ 

And he smiles with a lustful haze in his eyes. 

You’re almost drunk off his words alone, the thought of having him underneath, eating you out like you’re his last meal — Christopher was always a generous lover, getting off on giving you pleasure, on serving you. 

Turning around, you’re struggling to breathe. Struggling to contain yourself at all. You want to jump into his arms, yes, but things couldn’t be so simple. You guys broke up a long time ago. 

“Chris… You’re—“ You breathe out, “ just horny. I don’t wanna do something you’ll regret.” 

He visibly gulps, “Do you regret it…? What we just did.” 

You want to say yes.

But looking into his eyes, the way he gazes at you so expectantly — eyebrows curved up, puppy-eyed and apprehensive lips pressed into a flat line — you can’t lie.

“…No.” 

“Then I don’t regret it either.” 

“Christopher—“ You sigh. “You need bed rest, I mean you can’t even use your arms.” 

“I can still use my tongue.” 

“I—“ 

“Please, I’m dying to taste you. I can’t think of anything else right now.” 

“I—“ You gulp, regretting your words as soon as they leave your lips, “I don’t want to cum unless it’s around you.” 

Closing your eyes, you expect him to call you delusional, call you foolish. I mean, still hung up on their ex five years later?

But he’s way too busy feeling dizzy with the sudden blood that rushes to his cock. His mouth feels dry, and he can barely breathe right with the way his heart is pounding against his ribs. God, he almost came to your words alone. 

Those words had him wrapped around your finger just like that, he would do just about anything for you, right now.

“Get over here,” Chris manages to breathe out between shallow hisses. 

“Chris—“ 

“For the love of God, just shut up and kiss me—“ The words come out way too intense and violent. He wants to apologise, but is quickly shut down by your lips on his. 

And it feels like everything is right. 

Time stops the very moment your mouth touches his, lips moulded against each other perfectly. 

He completes you, like he always did. 

Chris cups the back of your neck, pulling you into his body and you gently sit on his stomach, careful not to put your whole weight on his body. 

Holding you so tight, his kiss is fervent, savouring every second of it as if it could fade any moment. Maybe this was another dream. Even if it were, he was going to enjoy every second of it. 

He would have you again even if it were just a dream.

When his tongue forces its way into your mouth, you sigh into his lips. He can feel your chest pressed against his, thin sleep shirt doing nothing to conceal your figure. Not that he was a stranger to any of it, every inch of you was memorised, carved into his brain.

You tangle your fingers into his hair and it feels just as incredibly soft as it looks, sliding like silk between your digits as you scratch at his scalp like you know he loves. 

“Take— Mhhm— Take it off—“ Chris whines into your lips, pulling at your shirt, struggling to maneuver without the use of his right hand. 

You part your kiss, laughing softly and that sound sends a thrill down his entire body.

Once the shirt is off, you’re suddenly self-conscious. I mean, you’re no longer twenty-one and the things that used to be perky and smooth are now all flabby and textured. Even though time has passed for the both of you, it seems like Chris only looks more beautiful. 

But he looks at you with such an adoring gaze, admiring every element that makes up the masterpiece that is you. Drinking in every new mark on your skin, he wants to burn this image into his eyes, just in case he can never be blessed with this sight again. 

A part of him wants to wallow in self-pity, the idea of your body changing, of you changing, away from his eyes is painful.

But, for now, he’s going to lay in your curves and take everything he missed.

His tongue runs hot along your neck and your body tingles with want. No other man, no other person ever had such a grip on you like Chrstopher. 

“God—“ You sigh, “I need you, Chris, right now—“ 

He groans.

“I know, baby. But I need to get you ready and wet for me.” 

“I’m dripping.” You confess. “I’ve been wet since you took off your fucking shirt and I had to touch you.” 

He pulled you into a kiss so harsh the bed creaked. God, you were crazy, he was insane and you were both driving each other into madness. 

Biting your lips, you steady your body on his good shoulder and position yourself. Chris sighs at the sight of your dripping cunt hovering so close to his throbbing member.

Slowly, inch-by-inch, you lower your body onto his member,welcoming the stretch with a shy mewl. He fills you up, more than you’d thought, much better than you remembered. 

Every second you’re not moving feels torturous to him. Feeling your walls clamp around cock, so wet and warm and perfect, he has to will himself not to cum right then and there.

You start your slow movements up and down, easing yourself into a pace that feels right.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” Chris blurts out between breathy whimpers.

You laugh it off. 

“Last night.” 

“what?”

“I had a dream—Ngh.— I dreamt you were around me just like you were now.” 

You smile, your walls clenching at the idea of his desire for you. Chris thinking about you in his most intimate moments.

“Is—“ You sigh, “Is it as good as your dream?” 

“No—“ He hisses and your smile fades. “It’s so much better. So much better. I forgot how perfect you were. So perfect.”

The compliment goes straight to your cheeks, heat spreading through your skin and pooling on your chest. You’d be perfect for him, always would. 

“yeah?” You breathe out, quitting your bouncing for a second to circle your hips. The friction it provides to your clit is more than enough to take away any restraint you had left.

Chris nods, whining at the lack of movement. 

Leaning forward, you take his pouty lips in a sweet, quickened peck. His hand tightly grips your waist, fingers lightly tracing at your skin, following your slow pace. 

From your lips leaks a tempting prayer of his name, slurry and breathless. 

He drinks in the sight of your concentrated expression, eyebrows pulled in together as you slide your body up and down so diligently to make him feel good. 

Tracing along your waist, his hands find your ass and he can’t help but knead at your skin, giving it a good slap.

You yelp, not holding back your giggle at the surprise slap. 

And at the sound of your saccharine laughter, Chris feels the hole in his soul be repaired with the dripping honey of your existence, tightly woven with your mischievous smiles and side-eyed smirks.

Chris wraps his arm around your back and brings you tight to his chest, your body is so hot pressed against his, every curve and outline fits together. He takes your lips in a heated kiss, humming sweetly into your throat.

You would be able to hear how desperately his heart pounded against his chest if it weren’t for your own loud heartbeat pouring at your ribcage. 

Every time you raise your hips to the very tip of his member only to bottom out in one-go, Chris throws his head back with a long whine. His broken sighs spark up electricity down your body and straight to your core, he feels so absolutely dizzying inside of you, so full, you feel every inch of him. 

“I—“ He chokes, “‘M not gonna last long.” 

“Oh, thank god. Me either,” You breathe out into a quiet laugh, thankful you won’t have to keep shooing away your orgasm. “C’mon— Ah! Give it to me—“ You lick your lips at the thought of his cum painting your walls. “Fill me up, been too long, mhm? Make sure it doesn’t leak out.” 

You see the way he bites his lips, his hips meeting yours with unrestrained strength. 

Oh, he will give it all to you. 

His lips crash into yours as you both reach your limits, the exploding release flooding your brain with nothing but endorphin. 

Sitting quietly, you feel the way his member convulses inside you, its last strings spurting out lazily into your walls. Every twitch has you clenching around his sensitive cock; His hisses are a great sign you should control your pussy. 

Trying his best to wrap both of his arms around you, Chris pulls you tighter into his chest, pressing a kiss to your hair. 

The weight of your tired silhouette laying on his chest feels absolutely right. The thrumming of your racing heart against his, settling into synchronized rhythms. You belonged there. You always would. 

When he feels you wriggling, Chris sighs, pulling you tighter, “Don’t— Don’t leave me.”

You close your eyes, willing away every ounce of your body that misses him, you can’t do this to yourself. No, this will probably just be a one-time thing and when he gets better, he will leave you, again. 

“Chris—“ 

“I bought it so I could smell like  you.” His voice is hoarse and hesitant, a silent whisper that instantly relaxes your body.

“What?”

“The shampoo. The stupid shampoo. I bought it after we broke up because I couldn’t fucking sleep unless my pillowcase smelled like honey and cocoa.” He regrets it as soon as the words leave his lips.

But you lay there, floored. Before you even realise, the dam breaks and you’re sobbing. You’re so goddamn happy he missed you as much as you missed him.

Celebrating your 35th birthday meant getting woken up by happy little screams and the absolute sweetest giggles filling your ears. You groaned, silently mourning a good night’s rest.

The past week had been filled with nothing but aversion to that dreaded saturday. What were Birthdays but a constant reminder that you were only getting older? Wasn’t the white hair you found last month enough?

But now, groggily opening your eyes to immediately lock your sight on the three mischievous silhouettes by the door, you can’t help but smile.

“She’s awake, get her!” Your husband cries out, setting out your two very enthusiastic twins running to your bed.

They jump onto your bed, expertly crawling toward you and bombarding your face with sweet little kisses. You laugh under their love-bombing, tiny faces rubbing against your cheeks.

Christopher watches by the bedside, holding up the tray of birthday breakfast with a loving gaze glued to his face. 

You’d gotten married not long after your reunion and Chris had started making his own music, producing independently. Most artists he’d worked with before actually followed him into his freelance days, making the transition much smoother. 

Two of his fellow producers joined in on that adventure and they were far more successful than either could’ve predicted. You’d bought a house for renovation after your promotion, planning on doing it all together. Too bad you’d find out soon about your pregnancy, Christopher refused to let you lift a single finger your entire gestation.

“Come on, come on, boys, let mummy breathe,” at the sound of their father’s voice, the twins cease their kisses and take a seat by your feet so Chris can set the table over your lap.

“Happy birthday, honey, I love you,” He kisses your lips, sitting by his sons at the foot of the bed.

“What is this? Oh my goodness!” You exclaim, eyeing the spread of fruit-filled pancakes and syrup, eggs, bacon, orange juice. A breakfast of royalty.

“Happy birthday, mummy! We love you!” Your youngest chimes in, absolutely melting your heart. 

Looking at your sons, you smile. Both an absolute carbon copy of their daddy, from their heads of curly black hair to their little toes. They’d be turning four sooner than you’d wish, hoping your babies would never grow up. No day would ever be bad when you have your three boys. 

“Come here, my babies,” You coo, humming as your boys crash against your chest and you nuzzle your nose on their curly heads. “Thank you, babies, I love you.” You kiss your eldest, “And you,” You kiss your youngest, “So, so much.” 

They giggle in your arms, “What about daddy?”

“Well, I’m still not sure.”

They laugh even harder much to the chagrin of your husband.

“Come on, boys, whoever’s dressed first gets a chocolate chip cookie.” 

And with that they’re far gone from your embrace and out of the door in a hurry. Christopher joins you in bed with a chuckle. 

“What was that?”

“Mum and Dad got the kids for today, which means you and I, have a full day of doing absolutely nothing,” He winks, stealing a strawberry from your pancakes.

You moan at the sound of that, “Oh my God, I love you,” Leaning over you kiss his lips and cheeks, ecstatic at the sound of a day off. 

“Oh, so now, you love me?” Faking hurt, he puts a hand to his hip.

“That’s up for debate,”

“Oh, yeah? You and I need to get working on the boys’ birthday present today,”  Chris says, leaning over to kiss your neck.

Mouthful of pancakes and whipped cream, you furrow your brows. “What did they ask for?” 

“A little sibling.”

You choke on your food, whipping your head to stare at him, “They’re spending too much time with your friends.” 

He laughs at that, fingers tracing circles on your forearm. “They’ll be joining school soon, don’t you miss having a little one?”

“God don’t remind me of that,” You whine, “Maybe I’ll have two girls, I won’t be outnumbered anymore.”

Christopher laughs, mind wondering what your daughters would look like. Oh, he loved that idea. “I’m not opposed to that. I’ll throw them the best princess tea parties.” 

You smile, leaning over to kiss your husband. 

“Daddy! I was ready first!”

“No, daddy! I was.”

Duty calls.

“I’ll be right back,” He whispers, giving you a kiss of stolen birthday strawberry and whipped cream, “I love you.”

“Mhm. I love you, too.”

You watch the love of your life run to find your sons to give them their reward as you enjoy your amazing birthday-breakfast in bed. You’d just been named the head leader for the newest project and Chris’s trio had reached the Top 10 on billboard. You couldn’t imagine more well-behaved, loving sons, even if they were just copies of their daddy.

A lot changed in the past decade, but one thing will always be constant.

You’ll love Christopher Bahng forever.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Floofy Haired Surprise - Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: Well Chris decided to attack us all by posting that selfie that made my PMS’ing brain combust and I couldn’t focus on anything else so I wrote this. This drabble is also for my fellow sufferer @thefallenbibliophilequote​

Summary: You have a surprising reaction to Chris’ selfie

Word Count: 894

Warning: Fluff! Chris’ Floofy Hair! Barely edited because the photo broke my brain

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

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Chris let out a small sigh as he stepped into his trailer and sat down on the small couch slumping down in exhaustion. He’d had an early call time to set today and while he was really enjoying filming Ghosted, he was exhausted and was so happy he had a 1 hour lunch break.

He grabbed his phone from the side to see a bunch of tiktoks and photos that Scott had sent him of his fans going crazy over his look for the movie. All of them loving what they called his floofy hair. He chuckled as he watched all the videos shaking his head slightly, god he loved his fans. Deciding he wanted to be mischievous he quickly took a selfie and posted it to Instagram to show off his messy fluffy hair in all its glory.

He'd only just posted the photo when one of the runners arrived with his lunch. He put his phone down on the side quickly forgetting about the photo as he thanked the runner and started eating his lunch. He was about half way through his lunch, going over his lunch when he heard his phone ringing. Glancing over his shoulder he smiled when he saw you name flashing across the screen.

“hey sweetheart, how are you? you managed to catch me perfectly on my lunchbreak” he chuckled as he picked up.

However his jovial mood instantly disappeared when he heard your sniffles down the line “sweetheart what’s wrong?” he ask frowning in concern.

“care to explain yourself?” you sniffle, frustration clear in your voice.

Chris instantly wracked his brain trying to think what he could possibly have done wrong. Was there a photo making the rounds that looked less innocent than they were? Did he forget to do something he promised to do? Did he leave the toilet seat up again?

“explain what sweetheart? I don’t understand” He says standing up from his seat, nervous energy making him restless.

“That selfie! With your goddamn floofy hair! Catching me off guard when I’m PMS’ing! Especially when I can’t be there to touch it” you complain with a whine.

The hammering in Chris’ chest stopped, being replaced with laughter as he realised that it wasn’t anything really serious. He clutched his chest doubling over as he laughed at the situation, having not expected this to be your reaction to it.

“Chris!” you whine, dragging out his name as he laughed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he chuckles stopping himself from laughing “look I’ll get home as quick as I can tonight and then we can cuddle on the couch to make you feel better” he offers.

“can I run my fingers through it?” you ask him hopefully making him smile.

“yes of course you can” he smiles “you feeling better now?”

“a little” you admit with a small sniffle making him chuckle.

“well go give Dodger a cuddle in the meantime, I’ll be back home before you know it” Chris promises.

“okay see you later” you say letting out a small sigh.

“see you later, sweetheart, I love you” Chris smiles.

“I love you too” you smile before hanging up.

True to his word, Chris made sure he left set as quickly as he could, only going on a small diversion to pick up some ice cream and any other snack you might want over the next few days.

As soon as he stepped through the apartment door you crashed into him hugging him tightly. He chuckled as he hugged you back kissing the top of your head as he rubbed your back.

“I thought you were coming home early” you mutter into his chest.

“I know but I thought I’d pick up some things for you on my way home” he says holding up the bag.

“ice cream?” you ask looking up at him eyebrow raised in question.

“of course” he smirks as he smiled down at you.

“I love you so much” you sigh contently as you cup his cheek and pull his lips down to yours.

“I love you too” he chuckles kissing you again.

That evening he kept his other promise, holding onto and cuddling you as a movie played in the background. You were sat sideway across his lap, his arms wrapped around you one hand resting on your hip the other on your thigh. You head was resting on his shoulder as your fingers ran through his hair. He knew this was suppose to making you feel better but he had to admit the feeling of your nails running though his hair was his favourite feeling, one that made all the stress and tension leave his body like there was no care in the world.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“for what?” you ask glancing up at him.

“for the photo, I didn’t think of how you might feel about it all” He explained his lips still resting against your hairline.

“its fine, I love those photos it was just at an emotional time” you say making him snort with laughter.

“plus I’m the one who actually gets to run my hands through it” you smirk lifting your head up from his shoulder.

“that you are” he chuckles as he lifts his hand to cup your jaw and press a languid kiss to you lips.

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