#and to think he would it's just truly crazy

[whorelaud]

nem you fucker did you put drugs in this what the actual fuck i feel like an absolute whore this shit has my knees wobbling im literally going insne fuckck fuck fuck FUCK

i have so much shit to say this is genuinely one the best things ive ever read and its my second fav piece (after milf reader duh 😜) of yours lordd!! such a talented girl the way you included all the goodies oooh dad!rafe hes such a girl's dad idc this was written to perfection im nauseous i will be rereading this and crying to you about it in your dms i MEAN it like what rhe hell PLS I NEED PPL TO READ THIS ILL CRY 😭😭😭😭😭😭 nem... the fluff... the teasing... how toxic he is... dare i say hes my man oh god sorry ill shut up anyways!! thank you for blessing me with this gen felt like the BIGGEST reward after such a long day 🩷🩷💕💘💓💝 everyone say thank yiu nem for blessing our eyes and brains

even when he was not at home, it was always with the toys he gave her that she played, the dresses he gave her that she wore, the hairstyles that he validated by facetime that she asked you to make, the meals he delivered that she wanted to eat. she was truly daddy’s girl. even in her facial features.

bye id be so bitter if that was me sorry we are competing over our daughters love IDC (jp ahahshs)

you didn't need to work. you had access to all his cards. at first you spent tons of money on unnecessary expenses hoping it would drive him crazy but the next day you saw that even more money had been added to the bank account.

a MAN.... i need him to dive in my ocean shitttt thats so hot

but rafe cameron didn't give you access to his banking data out of pure kindness and affection alone.

Oh.

“don't want to see me, but you dress yourself like you want me to give you a second baby ;) ”

I FUCKING SWUEAKING THATS SO HOT NEM OMG WHAT ARE YIU DOING TO ME

bear my children pls oh HUSBAND 😩

but that didn’t stop him from smiling at you, the insatiable white colgate smile. his clean and fresh mullet was long enough that hair brushed the back of his neck. he was wearing one of his perfect black suits with the sleeves rolled up to show a glimpse of his nice shirt. a Rolex was tight around his veiny wrist, and the same rings he always wore were wrapped around his fingers.

im crying hes so cocky it makes me wanna 😊😊 🖕🏼😭🩷💕❤️💕💗❤️💕❤️❤️💕❤️❤️ ahahaha haahaha AHAHAH im losing it i swear i think i just found my fav rafe...,

“that's my little girl.” he welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek, making her chuckle.

move its my turn

"We should ask every part of your body if they're okay with this. Maybe it would put you back into your place to feel betrayed by your own self. "

shut up omfg im not okay

"Mine , baby. you mean, my bills. these are my cards that you use for your pleasures so I have the right to have an eye on them. even more so when I receive bills for sex toys. you should call me instead of handling it? yourself.”

IM FRAMING THIS AND PUTTING IT ON MY WALL OH YKGOD THIS WHOLE FUCJING PARA IS PERFECT LEGIT TWEKINF OUT RN

jesus, you knew how to provoke him and it worked. he had sniffed the air loudly, trying to contain himself because honestly, he only wanted one thing at the moment, a strong urge that was to fuck you dirty on that counter until he was sure to see your hole tearing to death and dripping to get his cock in. jesus, yeah, he would give anything to see you grimace because it will never fit in but prove you wrong by giving you a second baby.

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MEEEE OMFG THIS IS CRAZY 😭😭😭😭🤕🤕🤕🤕

sorry for the long review sigh... i couldnt help myself omff

sweet babyface // toxic!bbydaddy!rafe x reader

summary ; rafe was decided to make your little one, a kook princess. and if it means to spend a million of dollars on a diamond swarovski tiara just to see it on the head of his daughter, you can be sure he's gonna do it.

warnings ; basically fluff but i would add +18 bc of a little bit of suggestive content but not real smut. mention of breeding kink. kind of toxic relationship. a bit of stalking. financial dependence. be aware of the warnings.

author's note ; i just wanted to mention @princessbrunette for the bbydaddy!rafe verse. you can check it on her account <3

even if you tried every time to keep him away, push him away, avoid him or chase him, rafe always came back. you could be cold, distant, suspicious and even cruel, he didn't care. by the way, he was better than you at that game anyway? it wasn’t for nothing that you always lost trying to fight him. he was winning while you were just exhausting yourself out. sometimes you wonder why you let him into your life, why you thought it would be a good idea to have a baby with him when everyone on the island told you he was unstable and uncontrollable. some even laughed at your situation, saying it was like giving something to the devil and hoping he doesn't use it against you.

you couldn't say rafe was a bad father. your daughter had always been outrageously spoiled. he always gave her the biggest and greatest gifts. nothing was ever good enough for his princess. he always thought big when it came to his baby. even if you were a pogue, he wanted to raise her as a fucking kook.

and sometimes you wondered if he did all this out of pure fatherly love or out of narcissism or ego.even if you hated him so much, he absolutely needed to make sure your child was on his side. every time he was there, it was like you no longer existed. the house was full of "dad," "daddy, “ or “ papa, " and babbling and laughing. it was always his name, she never called you. and you always felt a pang in your heart every time he grabbed her in his big veiny arms, making her the happiest little girl before taking her away from you to go on some weekly trips.

even when he was not at home, it was always with the toys he gave her that she played, the dresses he gave her that she wore, the hairstyles that he validated by facetime that she asked you to make, the meals he delivered that she wanted to eat. she was truly daddy’s girl. even in her facial features.

so no matter how much you tried to ignore him, he was still there somehow . through the demands of your daughter, the hundreds of deliveries a day to your door, the objects in this house and even its walls because he was obviously the one who paid for it.

you didn't need to work. you had access to all his cards. at first you spent tons of money on unnecessary expenses hoping it would drive him crazy but the next day you saw that even more money had been added to the bank account.

but rafe cameron didn't give you access to his banking data out of pure kindness and affection alone. he was also looking for a way to control you, and stay in your life. then, with that, he could also stalk you and do inappropriate things like when you bought lingerie and he received the bill. he couldn't stop himself from sending you a message. “don't want to see me, but you dress yourself like you want me to give you a second baby ;) ”

the only rule was that you were forbidden from going to see another man and even less from inviting him to the house. he manipulated you by saying it was for your daughter's mental balance but it was purely out of jealousy. and you knew it very well. you weren't the stupid naive girl he had gaslighted in the past and who he could lie to so easily anymore.

one day, you were giving your kid the extremely expensive cupcakes rafe had bought for her breakfast, trying not to comment on the ridiculousness of the prices but especially the situation, and there was a knock at the door. when you saw through the blinder that it was him, you stepped back discreetly, swallowing hard to not clench. your heart was beating fast in your ribcage as you were trying to silence your stepfoots.

“I know you're here.” you had heard his loud firm raspy voice through the door. “baby, i can hear you breathing and backing up from here. come on, i thought we both get over the time i scared you. ”

he continued to knock on the door until your old neighbor called you claiming that a crazy madman was in front of your house and didn't want to leave.

you had been forced to open up to him which made you even angrier.

but that didn’t stop him from smiling at you, the insatiable white colgate smile. his clean and fresh mullet was long enough that hair brushed the back of his neck. he was wearing one of his perfect black suits with the sleeves rolled up to show a glimpse of his nice shirt. a Rolex was tight around his veiny wrist, and the same rings he always wore were wrapped around his fingers.

he had his ear pierced recently with your daughter. you had been against it, but she still wanted to do like her father so you had no authority over the sweet monster. but you had to admit that the jewelry suited them both so well. especially on rafe, you couldn't help but think about kissing his ear, but especially biting his earlobe while caressing the silver piercing until it's wet and rolling against your tongue. all this perhaps while thinking of having a baby again.

“I should be allowed to come here whenever I want. " he had sworn under his breath, staring at you with his evil blue eyes.

“tell me what you have to say or I’ll call the police.” you replied shortly.

"I want to see my girl. I mean, the one who likes to call me daddy. "

“It’s not funny and she doesn’t want to…”

you hadn't had time to finish speaking before your babyface's little footsteps were running on the floor to come into the hall.

“daddy! " she exclaimed before being carried off the ground to snuggle into her father's strong arms, her little frame being hidden by the size of his biceps.

“that's my little girl.” he welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek, making her chuckle.

"I missed you! please, stay !" your kid had asked with bubbly face and pleading eyes, her childish pout so irresistible to say no.

“of course, I’m staying.”

“raf…” you started but he ignored you, walking in the house without your permission into the living room.

“I have something for you, peaches. ”

he took a present out of his bag and you rolled your eyes. you already knew it was going to be something crazy like the giant dollhouse he built in her bedroom, or the huge dinette in the playroom, or a scary tall comfort teddy bear that she couldn't even carry in her tiny hands. sometimes you wondered what he could offer to her because she already had everything. he had literally built her a heaven.

your daughter's eyes widened in surprise, while a smile floated across her lips in excitement. she opened the gift and took out a silver tiara set with diamonds and stunning crystals signed by Swarovski.

“she’s a baby, rafe…” you commented.

"no, she's a princess. " he corrected you and fixed your little one's hair before putting the tiara on her head, and placing a smack on her forehead. “ don't you see that kook babyface ? ”

she giggled before wrapping her hands around his neck to thank him.

“we need to talk.” you said.

"later. i have a princess to honor for now."

you wanted to fight back and kill him but you couldn't resist your daughter's face. she was happy to be with her father. and you knew it was important for girls to establish a strong bond with their father. and there was this bright spark that shone in her eyes every time she saw him that made you melt.

so you let him stay at home. he stayed with her all day. she managed to make him do whatever she wanted, and that's how he found himself playing with dolls, watching the princess and the frog, doing karaoke to barbie songs, serving as a client for a makeup session, and judging all of her princess dresses while she was making him a haul.

No matter how angry you were that he showed up like that and decided to stay, you couldn't deny the fact that he was damn good, that in the moment, you couldn't find any reason not to like him, even when he caught you spying on them and sent you a smirk to remember that you had no control.

you had decided to do some cleaning, to leave them both for a bit until the end of the day. after a long moment, rafe decided to leave her alone for a bit.

you were downstairs, and you were making food. he raised an eyebrow when he saw you. “don’t forget me.”

“no I’m sorry, I’m cooking for two and you’re not included in it.”

“I was included in this pussy to make you a baby so you can include me in this meal for one night, baby. ‘s nothing. ” he shouted back, chewing some gum arrogantly.

“don’t be trashy.”

"you used to like this..." he carefully said, because he knew he was treading on sensitive ground.

he stood in front of you, picking a taste of the ranch sauce from the bowl before putting it in his mouth. you watched him do it, glaring at the smile on his so fucking evil lickable lips.

“ taste's good. ”

“I want you to leave. “

"We should ask every part of your body if they're okay with this. Maybe it would put you back into your place to feel betrayed by your own self. "

“You’re not good for her.” you confessed.

“I am her father. And from what i know, she's very happy with me. You're the one to have a problem with my presence here. ”

"Please, leave the house. I don't want to call the police."

“exactly, baby.” he moved to stand behind you, rearranging a strand of your hair, his breath hot on the back of your neck. “you don’t want to do it. And you're not forced to do it…” he caressed your hand, slowly putting the knife away from your fingers.

“Step back.”

"I want to stay here tonight. Just this night. She really wants me to stay and would it be cruel to make her sad? You don't want to be the villain, right ? "

“don’t try to manipulate me.”

" mmh, just telling the truth and it makes you mad. you can hate me if you want but she needs me. i'm her dad and you know if I wanted to, I could make her come with me but I love seeing you together. you're a great mom.”

"you will sleep on the couch. and that is non-negotiable. you don't try anything with me, is that okay?"

“Come on, we can sleep together. We are mature and consenting adults.” he replied. "There's nothing I haven't seen before, baby. I know all that lingerie as well as that body hidden behind it."

“about that, stop stalking my bills.”

"Mine , baby. you mean, my bills. these are my cards that you use for your pleasures so I have the right to have an eye on them. even more so when I receive bills for sex toys. you should call me instead of handling it? yourself.”

"After trying them, I'm not sure that you're big enough now. “

jesus, you knew how to provoke him and it worked. he had sniffed the air loudly, trying to contain himself because honestly, he only wanted one thing at the moment, a strong urge that was to fuck you dirty on that counter until he was sure to see your hole tearing to death and dripping to get his cock in. jesus, yeah, he would give anything to see you grimace because it will never fit in but prove you wrong by giving you a second baby.

his jaw was tense and his nostrils were flared. he was forced to clench his fist to avoid touching you. " the day when your babygirl will want a little sister or brother, you better be begging on all fours on my fucking doorstep to convince me to give you another baby. so better to start now and stretch that hole very hard before it's happening because i'm gonna make sure to be breeding you enough to change your whole dna. ”

“ aren't you tired of thr…”

“mom, dad, what are you talking about?” the little girl burst into the kitchen, still with her tiara on her head. a smile appeared when she saw that her dad was still there. because it was rare for him to stay that late.

you warned rafe with your eyes, slashing violently at pieces of vegetables with the knife back in your hand.

“ we were thinking that i could stay tonight. what's your thoughts on this, little one ? want daddy to stay ? ”

“ yes ! i don't want you to leave. stay foreveeeer with me. ”

“ but you know, he can't. he's a businessman. ” you replied.

“ what do you mean, baby ? my only business is right here. ”

” Rafe. ” you said.

“ Baby ? ” he replied with a cocky smile. “ Why don't you tell us what you're cooking ? Seems delicious. Maybe we could get a taste. ”

“ Sweetie, can you go to your room for a second ? I need to talk with your dad. It's not gonna be long. ”

She pouted but agreed after Rafe promised her something if she was listening to her mom.

“you know you can’t stay. "

"All I know is that there is my name in the papers of this house, on your bills, and even on your documents. If I can't stay, you can't escape. So what's better ? ”

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRIS STURNIOLO

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend’s Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo—your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there’s no escaping Chris—or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 8.9k

CHAPTER ONE:

You had been eyeing him all night. The longer the party went on, the stronger the ache between your legs became. 

You could blame it on the alcohol that was coursing through your body, or the fact that you hadn’t fucked in nearly a month since you dumped your piece of shit ex-boyfriend. 

But you knew the real reason. It had been a year since you’d seen him, and it was undeniable that Christopher Owen Sturniolo had grown into a man.

He was no longer the lanky little boy you shared your first kiss with in seventh grade or the awkward acne-ridden teenager who took your virginity sophomore year, and he most certainly wasn’t the wavy-haired senior who was irrevocably heartbroken when you got into a relationship and ghosted him. 

No, this Chris was different. 

His features had grown since you last saw him. He had sharp cheekbones, a strong and prominent jawline, and light stubble that made you crazy.

The freckles you used to tease him about but truly loved more than anything in the world were still there, scattered across his nose, but now they added to his charm rather than taking away from it.  

His thick brown hair, which he used to grow out and flaunt endlessly, was now cut shorter and only added to the maturity he seemed to be radiating. It framed his face perfectly. The brown strands were darker now and looked almost unreal next to his light blue eyes. 

He’d filled out too. The smaller frame you remembered was gone, replaced by wide shoulders and slightly toned arms.

He looked good. Too good. 

He stood across the room, laughing at something you assumed his friend had said.

You tried not to stare, you really did, but your eyes betrayed you. Every movement he made, every time he laughed, or ran his fingers through his hair, you felt your stomach tighten. 

And it wasn’t just lust– it was the past of everything unresolved coming back from the deep dark corners of your mind where you had hidden them.

Chris hadn’t acknowledged you yet— not really. Sure, you’d exchanged nonchalant hellos when you first arrived, but the conversation ended there. 

So technically he knew you were there. He was just refusing to recognize you and every feeling and emotion you would bring with you. 

So, you were just another face in a crowd, and he was the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.  

Maybe this was your karma.

Part of you was mourning the Chris you once knew. That Chris would have been glued to your side the second you walked in, his eyes lighting up like you were the only person in the room. This Chris didn’t even flinch when he saw you. His face was so incredibly straight that it made you feel like a goddamn stranger.  

You were only here because of Ava. She’d practically dragged you out of the apartment you shared that her dad bought for you two with promises that “It’ll be fun, I swear,” and “You have to be there—Matt’s expecting you.” Matt, of course, being her boyfriend, and Chris’s triplet brother. It was almost laughable. You had no desire to see Chris, no desire to stir up all the feelings you’d spent the past year pushing down. Yet, here you were.

He was standing near the kitchen now, leaning casually against the counter with a beer in his hand, talking to a girl you didn’t recognize. She was laughing at something he said, touching his arm lightly, and you hated how it made your chest tighten. A wave of something—anger, jealousy, regret—surged through you, and you tried to ignore it, trying to focus on anything else.

Ava leaned in closer, her hand lightly touching your elbow. “You okay?” she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” you lied, plastering on a smile that probably looked as thin as it felt. You glanced over at her, noting the way her cheeks still flushed whenever she talked about Matt even after they’ve been dating for years.

Your gaze flickered back to Chris—like it had a will of its own—and you caught his profile just as he threw his head back in laughter. The sight of his throat working, the slight scruff along his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners… It was too much. You swore you could feel your stomach flip in response.

Ava followed your line of sight, sighing softly when she realized what had your attention. “You can still talk to him, you know,” she whispered, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “He’s still—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut in, your voice sharper than you intended. You were grateful for the pounding bass that swallowed the tension in your tone. “We said hi, and that’s all that’s needed.”

She gave you a look—equal parts sympathy and frustration—but didn’t push. You both knew there was more to this story, a history you hadn’t even begun to unpack.

You let out a breath, forcing your gaze anywhere but him. “Listen,” you said, nudging Ava gently, “go find Matt before he starts complaining you’re ignoring him.”

Ava hesitated for a second, like she wanted to say something else, but then she nodded. “I’ll be back ,” she promised, and with a smile, she slipped away into the crowd.

With her gone, you were left in the crowd of half-drunken strangers, music pulsing around you. You tried to dance a little, tried to lose yourself in the haze of alcohol and conversation, but it was nearly impossible.

He still hadn’t looked your way again—at least not that you’d noticed. But it felt like you could sense him, the same way you used to be able to tell he was approaching before you ever heard his footsteps.

You hated how your body seemed attuned to him even now, how the ache between your legs grew every time you caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. He was close enough that you could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke, see the way his fingers curled and uncurled around his beer bottle.

The girl who had been talking to him drifted off, pulling someone else onto the dance floor. Chris stayed where he was, sipping his drink and scanning the crowd, a flicker of something in his eyes that you couldn’t read from this distance.

Ava reappeared in your peripheral vision, weaving her way through the crowd with practiced ease. You watched as she sidled up to Chris, her lips close to his ear as she whispered something you couldn’t make out. A flash of surprise flickered across his features, followed by something you could only describe as annoyance. Then, as if he could feel your stare all the way from across the room, his gaze snapped to yours.

Your stomach dropped.

He didn’t break eye contact—not even when Ava squeezed his shoulder in parting and drifted away into the crowd. Instead, he kept those intense blue eyes fixed on you as he lifted his beer bottle to his lips, took a slow sip, and set it down on the counter behind him.

You could practically feel the tension crackling in the air by the time he started moving toward you. Your heart thudded in your chest with each step he took, every cell in your body screaming for you to look away, to find someplace else to be. But your feet remained rooted to the spot, as though glued there by all the unresolved tension between you.

Finally, he stopped in front of you. Close enough that you caught the faint hint of cologne and the warmth radiating from him. Close enough that all the old memories you’d tried to bury threatened to resurface in an instant.

“Hey.” His tone was clipped, casual on the surface but laced with something sharper—like he was testing you, waiting to see if you’d crack first.

You swallowed hard. “Hey.”

An uncomfortable beat of silence passed. You couldn’t read the look in his eyes—there was anger there, maybe some hurt, and definitely that lingering spark of attraction that neither of you had ever truly extinguished.

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Didn’t think I’d see you here, of all places.”

“Yeah, well,” you forced a shrug, fighting to keep your voice steady, “Ava’s my best friend. Matt’s her boyfriend. I got dragged along.”

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt. “Still letting other people call the shots for you, huh?”

The jab was subtle, but you felt the sting immediately. You square your shoulders, ignoring the faint tremor in your knees. “Acting as if I didn’t walk you like a dog all throughout high school”

He nodded slowly, as though taking in your words. “This isn’t high school anymore, clearly.” He said, looking you up and down disgustingly.

The tension between you felt almost suffocating, thick with memories of late-night phone calls, stolen kisses, and the bittersweet aftermath of what happened senior year. The way you ended things—ghosting him right when he thought your relationship might finally become something more.

“You don’t have to act like this,” you said quietly, your voice trembling despite your best effort to keep it level.

He arched an eyebrow. “Act like what?”

You hesitated. “Like I’m some kind of inconvenience.”

He scoffed. “If that’s how you’re feeling, I wonder why.” He glanced away, jaw tightening. 

Your heart clenched, and you pressed your lips together, trying not to let your emotions spill out for everyone to see. “We don’t have to do this,” you repeated softly.

He shrugged, and the movement was painfully casual. “You’re right. We don’t have to do anything.” He flicked his gaze past you, scanning the crowd like you might bore him any second. “So why are we?”

You swallowed, a soft ache in your chest. Because despite all the time and distance, you both knew there was still something here—something electric, something that made it impossible for you to pass each other by like strangers.

“Chris—”

“Look,” he cut you off, his voice lowering enough that you had to lean in to hear him over the music. “I’m not gonna pretend I’m happy to see you. And I’m not gonna pretend everything’s fine. Because it’s not.”

Your pulse hammered in your ears at his bluntness. “Okay,” you whispered. It was all you could manage.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “But we’re here,” he finally said, a slight tremor lacing his words. “And I can’t just—” He paused, jaw working as though wrestling with something unspoken. “I can’t ignore you,” he finished in a harsh exhale.

You felt your chest tighten. He was right; he’d tried ignoring you all night, and you’d tried to ignore him, and still you’d both ended up here, facing each other, every unspoken thing hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

A muscle ticked in his jaw as his eyes flickered to yours. “So what now?”

You swallowed, heart pounding so hard you wondered if he could hear it over the pulsing music. His question—“What now?”—hung in the air, thick with a tension that set your nerves on fire.

You wanted to say something—anything—but words felt woefully inadequate. Instead, you met his gaze, letting him see the swirl of emotions that had taken up permanent residence in your chest: guilt, anger, desire. Especially desire.

For a beat, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was so charged you could practically feel it crackle. Your body felt hypersensitive to every shift in the air, every faint brush of his scent. All you could think about was how easy it would be to close the distance, to press your body against his and say the things you’d been holding back.

But instead, you let the moment slip by.

Chris exhaled sharply and dragged a hand through his hair, clearly wrestling with a torrent of his own. “You know,” he said at last, his voice low, “this isn’t exactly how I pictured seeing you again.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Yeah, me neither.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, but instead he just shook his head and turned away, jaw clenched. “I’m gonna get another drink,” he muttered, barely meeting your eyes before he disappeared into the crowd.

A breath you didn’t realize you were holding hissed from your lungs. You stood there, your entire body humming with the tension that still vibrated in the wake of his departure. It was as if every nerve ending had been lit on fire—burning with all the words left unspoken.

Hours later, the party was winding down, though the music still thumped in the background. You’d spent most of the time dancing with other friends, forcibly ignoring the steady undercurrent of longing that tugged you toward Chris like some gravitational pull. If he noticed you looking, he never showed it, except for a few fleeting moments where your eyes met across the room, sparks flying before you both turned away again.

Eventually, Ava found you. She looked disheveled, eyes glassy and a lazy grin on her face. Matt clung to her side, equally worse for wear—his hair mussed, his speech slurred. They were hanging off each other, giggling like teenagers.

“Hey,” Ava said, her words blending together, “I—uh—we need to go home.” She hiccuped, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Like, now.”

You glanced at the two of them, realizing just how hammered they were. Rolling your eyes affectionately, you hooked an arm around Ava’s waist to keep her steady. “Okay, okay. Let’s get you guys out of here.”

Getting Matt to focus was a chore, but between you and Ava’s coaxing, he finally managed to shuffle toward the exit. You kept an arm around your best friend, her head lolled onto your shoulder as she slurred something about how much she loved you.

Matt grinned drunkenly. “Y/N… you’re… you’re the best,” he mumbled, stumbling.

You snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get you home in one piece.”

Ava’s apartment—yours and hers, really—was close enough to walk, but considering how unsteady they both were, you worried it might be a disaster. Halfway to the door, you felt a presence behind you, a telltale warmth that made your skin prickle.

“Mind explaining where you’re taking my brother?”

Chris.

You turned, finding him standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, eyes flicking between you and Matt, who was practically leaning his entire weight on your shoulder. Chris’s face was a complicated mask—some concern, a lot of annoyance, and just a hint of that ever-present tension.

Your chin lifted. “Home. With his girlfriend?” you said simply. “They’re both wrecked, so I’m taking them back to our place.”

A shadow of doubt passed over his expression. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

You arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

He nodded toward Matt. “I can’t leave my brother with you—” he gestured to Ava clinging to your arm, “—and that drunk fool. No offense, Ava.”

You bristled, even as a very small part of you was relieved that he cared enough to intervene. “Ava’s not that drunk. She just needs some water and a good night’s sleep, and Matt clearly needs the same.”

Chris’s gaze hardened. “Look, we can argue all night if you want, but at the end of the day, I’m not letting you carry his drunk ass home alone.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Matt swayed dangerously, cutting you off. Chris moved closer in an instant, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and steadying him. Matt mumbled something incoherent, then blinked as if just recognizing Chris was there.

“Hey, kid,” Matt slurred, lips curling into a lazy grin. “Missed you… or something.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but you didn’t miss the fleeting look of concern. “You see?” he said flatly. “He needs someone who can actually hold him upright.”

You blew out a breath, too exhausted and too buzzed to keep up the argument. Fine. Let him play the hero. “Alright,” you relented. “Let’s just get them home.”

With that, the four of you spilled out into the cool night air, Matt and Ava clutching onto each other and you, while Chris hovered on the other side. The walk was short but felt endless with your two drunken companions swaying and stumbling. Chris moved in to help whenever Matt nearly toppled over.

Every time his arm brushed yours, every time your shoulders bumped, the tension between you flared to life again—like an ember bursting into flame. It was maddening how your body seemed to respond to him, no matter how much you tried to tamp it down.

Finally, you reached your apartment building. You fumbled with the keys, grateful when the door clicked open. Inside, you guided Ava to her bedroom, where she promptly collapsed onto the bed. Matt, half-lidded and swaying on his feet, followed suit, flopping down next to her without a second thought.

You stood there, watching them, heart still pounding with adrenaline—or maybe something else. You could feel Chris behind you, close enough that warmth radiated off his body. The quiet of the apartment only amplified your awareness of him, every breath and shift in his stance sending your nerves sparking.

You turned, finding yourself nearly chest to chest with him, the small hallway leaving little room to maneuver. His eyes pinned you in place, a swirl of emotions dancing across those blue irises—conflict, frustration, and under it all, that magnetic pull you knew too well.

“So,” you murmured, voice low, “I guess you’re not leaving yet, are you?”

Chris swallowed, and for a moment, you saw the mask slip. “No,” he said quietly. “Not yet.”

You turned, finding yourself nearly chest to chest with him, the small hallway leaving little room to maneuver. His eyes pinned you in place, a swirl of emotions dancing across those blue irises—conflict, frustration, and under it all, that magnetic pull you knew too well.

“So,” you murmured, voice low, “I guess you’re not leaving yet, are you?”

Chris swallowed, and for a moment, you saw the mask slip. “No,” he said quietly. “Not yet.”

The tension hovering in the narrow space was almost suffocating, so thick it felt like you could reach out and touch it. But before either of you could say another word, a sudden commotion broke the moment.

A door creaked behind you. Ava, looking pale and disoriented, stumbled out of the bedroom. She blinked blearily in the dim light. You recognized that look immediately: she was about to be sick.

“Ava,” you said in alarm, stepping forward. “Oh no—”

But it was too late. Her face contorted, and she heaved forward. Chris, seeing what was about to happen, darted sideways to avoid the inevitable spray—only to crash directly into you.

“Shit!” you yelped as he slammed your shoulder. You lost your balance, stumbling back until the sharp corner of the wall made harsh contact with your head. Pain exploded at your temple, and you winced, hissing through your teeth.

Meanwhile, poor Chris was still caught in the line of fire, a portion of Ava’s vomit hitting his arm and splattering onto his shirt. He recoiled, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

Ava wiped her mouth, tears in her eyes, and mumbled something close to an apology. “I—I’m sorry… ‘m so sorry—”

You pressed a hand to your head, anger flaring as throbbing pain pulsed behind your skull. “What the hell, Chris?” you snapped, forcing yourself to straighten. “You didn’t have to knock me over!”

He turned on you, face drawn tight with frustration and disgust from the mess on his sleeve. “You were in the way,” he ground out. “I’m not exactly going to stand there and get covered in puke—though apparently, that happened anyway.”

Your brows shot up, temper sparking. “Oh, so that makes it okay to push me? You’re a real gentleman.”

Chris’s jaw flexed. “Don’t start with me. I’m not the one who can’t hold down a drink.”

“Hey!” Ava croaked from behind him, her voice wuavering. She slumped against the wall, looking miserable. “I didn’t mean—”

“Ava,” Matt’s voice interrupted from the doorway. He appeared with bleary eyes, hair sticking up in every direction. He took in the scene—Ava hunched over, you rubbing your head, Chris spattered in vomit—and promptly turned on his brother. “Chris, why the hell are you yelling at her?”

Chris took a breath, trying to calm himself, but the frustration was evident in every line of his posture. “I’m not yelling at her,” he said through gritted teeth, yanking at the soiled fabric of his sleeve. “But maybe try not to puke on people next time!”

Matt’s face darkened, protective anger flaring up. “Dude, she’s drunk and sick. Back off.”

A tense beat of silence followed, the four of you standing in that cramped hallway, hearts pounding, heads throbbing—some from booze, others from bruises, and Chris from equal parts disgust and fury.

You rubbed the spot on your head again, wincing at the dull ache that pulsed beneath your fingers. Ava slid down the wall to sit, eyes closed, still mumbling apologies. Matt hovered beside her, steadying her as best he could.

You pressed a hand gingerly to your head, wincing at the dull throb that had settled behind your temple. Meanwhile, Ava slumped on the floor, still half-groggy and covered in the remnants of her unfortunate mishap. Matt hovered next to her, one hand on her shoulder to keep her steady.

“Let’s get you two cleaned up,” you sighed, ignoring the furious pulse of pain at your temple.

Ava groaned but let you help her to her feet. Chris stayed by the wall, still looking half-annoyed, half-disgusted, but when Matt stumbled, he automatically reached out to steady him. Despite the tension in the air, the four of you worked together to guide your drunken friends toward the bathroom.

Once inside, you managed to get Ava to rinse her mouth while Matt hovered behind her, swaying dangerously. Chris stood awkwardly in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, that exasperated expression never leaving his face.

“Brush her teeth,” he said gruffly, nodding to the unopened toothbrush sitting on the counter.

“I know how to take care of my best friend, thanks,” you shot back, though your voice lacked its usual bite. Your head hurt too much to spar properly.

He rolled his eyes, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I’ll handle Matt.”

You and Chris maneuvered around each other in the cramped space, exchanging occasional glares whenever you nearly bumped hips. Eventually, you got Ava’s teeth brushed—despite her half-hearted protests—and Chris convinced Matt to rinse his face with cold water, muttering warnings all the while about “not throwing up on me, too.”

By the time Ava and Matt were more or less presentable, both of them looked ready to pass out on the spot. You guided Ava back to her bedroom while Chris helped Matt stumble in behind her. They collapsed onto the bed, Matt’s arm draped protectively over Ava’s waist, and within seconds, both were out like lights.

You stood there for a moment, catching your breath, still nursing the throbbing pain in your skull. Chris lingered behind you, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You alright?” he asked finally, voice lower now that Matt and Ava were asleep.

Your head still pounded, but there was no ignoring the fact that Chris’s shirt was splattered with sink water and vomit stains. “I’ll live,” you muttered, pressing your fingers gingerly to your temple.

He huffed, his tone edging into that familiar snark. “You sure? Looked like you smacked your head pretty hard.”

“I wouldn’t have smacked it if you hadn’t used me as a human shield,” you shot back, though there was more weariness than heat in your voice.

Chris dragged a hand across his jaw, clearly wrestling with another sarcastic comeback. But instead of firing off a retort, he let out a frustrated groan. “This shirt is disgusting,” he grumbled, glancing down at the dark splotches. With a brusque motion, he yanked it over his head.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him bare-chested—this close, the hallway lighting throwing every muscle into relief. You tried to be discreet, but your gaze couldn’t help but linger on the defined planes of his chest, the way his shoulders had broadened since high school. You forced yourself to snap out of it, shifting your eyes quickly back to his face, hoping he hadn’t noticed the heat creeping up your cheeks.

He shot you a quick look that might have been amusement or annoyance, you couldn’t tell. “What?” he asked, almost daring you to say something.

You cleared your throat, ignoring the traitorous flutter in your stomach. “Nothing. Let’s just… get you cleaned up.”

Without another word, you led the way to the kitchen, pressing a hand against your throbbing head as you walked. Chris followed with the soiled shirt balled in one hand.

“Sit,” he ordered once you reached the small table, his voice unusually gentle.

Too tired to bicker, you sank into a chair. Chris rummaged in the freezer and emerged with a bag of frozen peas, wrapping them in a kitchen towel. He offered it without meeting your gaze.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, pressing the makeshift ice pack to your temple. The cold relief was almost instantaneous, dulling the worst of the ache.

Chris turned toward the sink to rinse out the vomit-stained shirt, muscles in his back flexing as he scrubbed the fabric. You found yourself staring again, and you silently cursed the unwelcome rush of heat that flooded you from head to toe.

Trying to distract yourself, you forced your gaze elsewhere. “Let me… let me grab some dish soap,” you said, pushing yourself up. A bolt of pain in your head nearly made you stumble.

He cut you a sideways glance. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered. But the sudden movement left your head throbbing again, so you settled for just handing him the soap from the counter.

He muttered his thanks, squeezing a little onto the shirt and scrubbing at the stain. The quiet felt thick, loaded with tension that had nothing to do with the earlier chaos.

You tried to focus on the peas pressed to your temple, but your eyes kept wandering. Finally, you gave a short laugh, more at yourself than at him. “You know,” you said, “for a guy who’s half-naked in my kitchen, you’re pretty grouchy.”

He snorted softly, still working on the shirt. “Guess you bring out the best in me.”

A spark of irritation lanced through you, though it was tempered by the undeniable awareness of just how good he looked—tanned skin, toned arms, the faint spattering of freckles you remembered from years before. “You’re not exactly a delight either,” you shot back, pressing the ice pack firmly against your head.

He finished rinsing and wringing out his shirt, then turned off the faucet. Water dripped across his arms, sliding down the lines of his muscles. You forced yourself to keep your eyes level with his, ignoring the tilt in your stomach.

After a moment, Chris set the damp shirt aside and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. He eyed you for a second, then jerked his chin at the peas you clutched. “How’s the head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints,” you smirked and his eyes widened at your innuendo.

You laughed at his reaction but actually answered the question this time. “It’s a little bit better, though.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair, obviously uncertain where to go from here. “Look,” he said, voice quieter now, “about earlier. I wasn’t trying to push you. I just—”

“Didn’t want to get puked on,” you finished for him. “Yeah, I got that memo.”

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “I’m sorry if I knocked you over.”

You held his gaze, a wry smile tugging at your lips despite everything. “You’re forgiven. Now, are we done acting like idiots, or do we want to keep this up all night?”

A muscle flickered in his jaw, and for a second you thought he’d snap back with another sarcastic remark. But he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah,” he said softly. “I’m good.”

An awkward beat passed, the both of you taking stock of what remained. Matt and Ava were unconscious in the next room, you had a knot forming on your head, and Chris was half-naked in your kitchen, still dripping water.

“Well,” you said, pushing your chair back, “I guess we should try to sleep. Unless you want to stay up and make sure no one else hurls on you.”

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. “I’ll take my chances on the couch.”

He grabbed a spare towel off the counter and scrubbed at the stray droplets on his arms. You couldn’t help a quick glance at the way the movement flexed his shoulders, and you hoped your expression didn’t betray how flustered you felt.

“Night, then,” you managed, your voice a little tight.

Chris nodded, stepping around you to head for the living room. “Night.”

You stood there for a moment, the makeshift ice pack pressed to your head, watching him go. As he disappeared around the corner—shirt still in hand—you exhaled slowly, muscles taut from all the pent-up tension of the night.

The morning light drifted through the blinds, prickling against your eyelids as you stirred awake. The dull ache in your temple reminded you exactly why you’d gone to bed last night with a bag of frozen peas pressed to your head. You blinked, slowly registering the muffled sounds coming from the living room.

You pushed the blankets aside and slipped out of bed, wincing at the minor throb that still pulsed behind your temple. Padding into the hallway, you paused at the sight of Chris sprawled on your couch, arms folded over his chest. He looked about as comfortable as one could be when sleeping on a lumpy couch in someone else’s apartment.

He stirred at the sound of your footsteps. His eyes cracked open—still heavy with sleep but alert enough to narrow in on you as you stepped closer.

“Morning,” he grumbled.

Your first instinct was to snap at him—some half-baked comment about overstaying his welcome. But before you could open your mouth, he cut you off, lifting a hand as if to ward off your tirade.

“Before you bitch me out,” he said, “I’m waiting for Matt to wake up so I can take him home.”

A quick wave of annoyance flared in your chest, but you only sighed. He had a point—Matt was definitely in no state to hop on an Uber last night, and Chris wasn’t the type to leave his brother behind. Instead of biting back, you nodded reluctantly.

“Fine,” you muttered. “At least you didn’t run off in the middle of the night.”

He shot you a look, somewhere between exasperated and amused, but said nothing. A fragile ceasefire, at best.

Just then, you heard a low groan from the hallway. Ava appeared, bleary-eyed and leaning heavily against the wall as if the sheer act of walking was a Herculean effort. Her hair was a mess, and she looked about as hungover as a person could be.

“Ow, my head,” she mumbled. “Did anyone catch the license plate of the truck that ran me the fuck over?”

You grimaced sympathetically. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions.”

Ava rubbed her temples, squinting as she glanced around the living room. Her eyes fell on Chris, who was watching her with a mild, unreadable expression. She blinked once, twice, then turned to you, face twisted in confusion.

“Um… why is Chris here? Did you guys… fuck?”

Your jaw dropped. Chris actually closed his eyes like he was silently wishing himself elsewhere. After a beat of stunned silence, he cleared his throat. “Where is Matt?”

Ava shot him a mischievous smile despite her pallor. “Oh, you know,” she drawled, her tone teasing, “he’s probably hiding in my room because you two were up all night going at it.”

You and Chris both spluttered in protest. “Ava!” you snapped, cheeks heating. “We did not—”

She raised an eyebrow, wiggling it suggestively, but then cringed as her headache reeled her back in. “Ow. Okay, sorry. Too loud.”

“And too wrong,” Chris added flatly. “The only ‘going at it’ last night was you puking all over me.”

Ava’s eyes went wide, suddenly looking mortified. “Wait, what?”

You let out a half-amused snort, remembering the chaos. “You really don’t remember? You staggered into the hallway and threw up on Chris, then he tried to dodge and slammed me against the wall.”

Chris nodded, eyes flicking pointedly to your temple. “Which gave her that nice bump on her head.”

Ava cringed again, glancing at you with genuine guilt. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I… I blacked out.” She turned to Chris, noticing the faint dried stain still on his forearm. “Oh my God,” she repeated, horror-struck. “Did I really—?”

He shrugged, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Hey, a shower and about twenty gallons of soap later, I’m mostly fine.”

Ava buried her face in her hands. “This is humiliating.” But then, despite her headache, she cracked a small laugh. “I guess that explains why you’re in the living room, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, too, as the absurdity of the whole situation sank in. Chris let out a resigned chuckle, shaking his head.

“Believe me, I’d have been long gone if I didn’t have to cart Matt’s drunk ass out of here in a bit,” Chris said.

“I can’t believe I slept through all that,” Ava muttered. “Did I at least apologize?”

“Yes,” you said dryly, “though I’m not sure how coherent it was.”

“Enough to rub vomit in my hair again,” Chris grumbled good-naturedly.

Ava groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Ugh. I’m never drinking like that again.”

Chris smirked. “I’m holding you to that.”

A wry grin tugged at your own lips. After all the tension and drama last night, there was a strange relief in being able to stand here and laugh about it—like all of you were finally exhaling.

“How about I make some coffee?” you offered, tossing a glance at Ava’s pale face. “I think we could all use a little caffeine.”

“Oh, God, yes,” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead.

Chris nodded in agreement. “Sure. Then I can drag Matt home to sleep this off somewhere that’s not your couch.”

The faintest hint of warmth stirred in your chest at the idea of him staying just a little bit longer—even if it was just for coffee. But you pushed that down, focusing on the task at hand.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, leading the way to the kitchen. Behind you, Chris and Ava followed, still chuckling under their breath at the mess they’d all endured last night.

As you flicked on the coffee maker, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen once Matt woke up, once Chris left, once this bizarre morning after turned into actual daylight. But for now, at least, you had peace—and, surprisingly enough, even a laugh or two to share.

You settle around the small kitchen table with Chris and Ava, nursing your cup of coffee. The early sunlight streaming through the window does little to mask the awkwardness lingering from the night before. Ava, sporting a messy bun and still looking a bit drained, leans an elbow on the table and eyes Chris over the rim of her mug.

“So,” she drawls, voice scratchy with sleep but brimming with sass, “get comfortable, Chris. I’m gonna go wake Matt up, and it’s gonna be a while.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “You and Y/N can, I don’t know, get cozy and touch tips while Matt takes me to pound town again.”

You nearly choke on your coffee. Chris’s face goes through about three different shades of horror before settling on exasperated. “First off,” he mutters, setting down his mug a little too hard, “I really don’t need to know the specifics of my brother’s sex life.”

Ava just laughs, utterly unapologetic. “Suit yourself,” she shrugs, sliding off the chair. “But don’t blame me if you two get bored. Find something to do, or each other to do—whatever.”

“Ava, seriously,” you groan, pressing your palms to your eyes. “At least use protection, okay?”

She snorts, rolling her eyes. “Yes, Mom,” she shoots back sarcastically. “You’re so thoughtful.” Then she winks at Chris for good measure. “Think of me fondly while I’m gone.”

With that, she downed the rest of her coffee, set her mug in the sink, and strutted upstairs to Matt’s room, shutting the door with a pointed click behind her.

An awkward hush settles over the kitchen. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, fiddling with the handle of your mug. Chris avoids your gaze at first, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck.

“So,” you say finally, deadpan, “that was subtle of her.”

He huffs a half-laugh, glancing up at the ceiling like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Yeah, subtle as a car crash.”

You both fall silent. Then, from above, a soft thud—followed by the unmistakable sounds of Ava and Matt… reacquainting themselves with each other.

“Oh, God,” you mutter under your breath, cheeks heating. You rub your temples, trying to will the noise away, but it only grows louder.

Chris grimaces, then tries to play it off with a roll of his eyes. “Guess they didn’t waste any time.”

You make a face, sipping your coffee in hopes the caffeine will distract you. “They’re in for round two, apparently.”

A moment passes, filled with an increasingly steady rhythm of moans that filter down the stairs. You and Chris exchange a glance—equal parts discomfort and wry amusement at the sheer absurdity of it.

He breaks the tension by arching an eyebrow. “Reminds me of some of our high school experiences.” There’s a dryness to his tone—like he’s testing how far he can push you.

You sputter, nearly spilling your coffee. “Wow. That’s a throwback.”

A half-smile ghosts across his lips. “Well, she’s not moaning as loud as you did back then.”

Heat flares in your cheeks—part anger, part embarrassment, and, annoyingly, part amusement. “Excuse you?”

He shrugs, crossing his arms, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Just saying, I’ve got a good memory.”

Your eyes narrow as you set your mug aside. “No one asked you to remember. And I’m pretty sure I was never that loud.”

Chris smirks, leaning back in his chair. “You can keep telling yourself that.”

“Ugh.” You glare at him, ignoring the slight flutter in your stomach that you really wish wasn’t there. “And here I thought we’d have a civil morning.”

“I’m plenty civil.” He lifts his coffee cup, giving a mock toast. “You’re the one who let your best friend invite me to loiter in your living room.”

“As if you had no choice in the matter?” you counter, eyebrows shooting up. “You could’ve left at any time—”

“Except for the part where my brother was drunk off his ass and still is, apparently.” He nods toward the ceiling, where Matt and Ava’s very enthusiastic “recovery” session continues.

You roll your eyes, even as a small twinge of guilt twists in your gut. “Fine. You win that one.”

He sets his cup down, a flicker of genuine concern crossing his features. “How’s your head feeling?”

“Better,” you admit grudgingly, resisting the urge to rub the lingering bump. “Still a little sore. You’re lucky I don’t sue you for damages.”

He lets out a dry laugh. “Yeah, good luck explaining that to a judge: ‘Your honor, he dodged puke, and I paid the price.’”

The corners of your mouth quirk up despite yourself. “I’ll have to come up with something a little more dramatic.”

His gaze lingers on you, a hint of that familiar tension creeping into the air between you. For a second, neither of you speak. The echo of moans from upstairs fills the silence, but you try to tune it out, focusing on Chris’s expression. It’s a mix of exasperation and something you can’t quite pin down.

Eventually, he clears his throat, looking away. “Anyway. As soon as they’re done, I’m taking Matt home.”

“Fair enough,” you say, crossing your arms as if to shield yourself from his lingering stare. “I’m just glad he’s not making an even bigger mess down here.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

You share a moment of uneasy quiet, sipping at your drinks and trying to pretend the floor isn’t practically vibrating with Ava and Matt’s activities. Each moan or thump from upstairs seems to underscore the unresolved tension between you and Chris—like the universe is mocking you both.

You collapse onto the couch, remote in hand, while Chris drops heavily onto the opposite end. Neither of you seems particularly eager to be in the kitchen, where the sound of Ava and Matt’s increasingly enthusiastic activities upstairs is even more obvious. Even here, though, you can still catch the muffled rhythms and gasps emanating through the ceiling.

“Want to put something on?” you offer, brandishing the remote as a distraction.

Chris shrugs. “Sure. Maybe it’ll drown them out.”

You flip through streaming services, settling on some mindless show you’ve both seen before—something you can half-watch, half-ignore. Anything to keep the awkward silence at bay.

Except the background noise doesn’t stop. Ava’s voice floats downstairs in a series of moans, clearly not worried about volume control. You feel your face heat, trying hard not to picture what’s happening up there, but it’s impossible to completely shut it out.

Chris catches the faint color in your cheeks and smirks. “You okay?”

You shoot him a glare. “Fine.”

He snorts, eyes flicking toward the ceiling with a knowing tilt of his head. “I guess some people really enjoy their mornings.”

“Can we not analyze it, please?” you mutter, turning up the volume on the TV.

For a few minutes, the two of you watch the show in a tense silence, interrupted only by the occasionally awkward clearing of throats. On the screen, the characters are bantering, their dialogue a hollow cover for the more intimate soundscape filtering down from upstairs.

Eventually, Chris shifts, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as though suppressing a grin. “Kinda like old times, huh?”

You glance at him warily. “Old times… meaning what exactly?” even though you knew exactly what he was reffering to.

He lifts a shoulder. “High school. All that sneaking around we did.” He nods at the ceiling again with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Not that we ever woke the whole house up—but you sure knew how to make noise back then.”

A spike of heat floods your cheeks. “Oh, shut up. I told you I wasn’t that loud.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I distinctly remember having to clamp a hand over your mouth one time, so your parents wouldn’t figure out I was in your bedroom.”

Your crotch thrums at the memory, even as you roll your eyes. “You’re making that up.”

He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nope. That was, like… sophomore year?”

“Junior,” you correct quietly, the mental images flashing unbidden behind your eyes—late-night kisses, stolen touches, the muffled giggles when the floor creaked.

Chris spreads his hands, as though he’s proved his point. “See, you do remember.”

You hate the surge of warmth pooling in your stomach, especially with the unmistakable moans from upstairs fueling the tension. Your gaze flicks to him, noticing the way he’s tugging at the collar of his still-bare torso as if he’s feeling the heat, too.

Desperate to reclaim some composure, you turn back to the TV and raise the volume a couple more notches. The show’s bright laughter and goofy dialogue bounce off the living room walls. It helps—just a little—until there’s a particularly loud thud from above, followed by Ava’s not-so-subtle cry of Matt’s name.

You cringe, flicking Chris a sideways glance. His eyebrows are raised, and the corner of his mouth twitches with restrained amusement. “They’re really going for it, huh?”

“Stop it,” you hiss, trying to ignore the thudding of your own heart.

He chuckles, low and mocking. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re blushing. Maybe it’s bringing back memories for you, too?”

You grit your teeth. “Yes, because the best soundtrack for nostalgia is my best friend hooking up with your brother.”

His gaze slides over you, lingering on the curve of your hips, the lines of your legs tucked up on the couch. “Pretty sure I’m remembering a different soundtrack…”

A fresh wave of tension courses through you, courtesy of those teasing words and the faint recollection of your younger selves entwined in the dark. You can’t help the jittery sensation in your stomach—part annoyance, part undeniable attraction.

“That was forever ago,” you say, voice a little tight.

“Was it, though?” he counters, his voice dropping just enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You scowl, holding his gaze even though your pulse hammers. “Yes, Chris. It was.”

From upstairs, Ava’s delighted shriek rattles through the ceiling. You stifle a groan, covering your face with one hand. “Oh my God, I am never letting her live this down.”

Chris laughs, and it’s surprisingly genuine. “She’ll do the same to you if the roles were reversed.”

“Probably,” you admit.

You try to refocus on the TV show, but all you can hear is Matt and Ava’s muffled moans, and all you can feel is Chris’s eyes tracking you from the other side of the couch. The air feels charged, like a static storm on the verge of sparking, and you can’t decide if you hate it or crave it.

Finally, you shoot him a sharp look, hoping to douse the tension. “Got something to say?”

He smirks. “No, not really. Just reminded that you and I used to have this effect on each other… and it was never quiet.”

Your cheeks burn, and you set your jaw, refusing to let him rile you up any further. “Keep it up, and I’ll crank the TV so loud the neighbors call the cops.”

“And here I was, thinking we could just talk about the old days,” he drawls, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his bare skin shifting with the motion. “But hey, if the thought of me dicking you down is too much for you to control yourself right now, then I get it.

You open your mouth to retort—except your heart is pounding and your mind can’t help flipping through flashes of those stolen nights in high school. The way his hands felt on you, the desperate hushes whenever there was a risk of being caught, the rush of young desire you never quite forgot.

Upstairs, Ava lets out another moan that makes you cringe and press the remote’s volume button a few more times. “God, they better wrap this up soon.”

Chris arches an eyebrow, smirk widening. “Jealous?”

Your eyes snap to his. “Of them?”

He lifts a shoulder, carefully casual. ‘You tell me.”

A beat passes, and you can’t help flicking a glance at his bare torso—at the taut muscles that were far less defined back in high school, the confident air that certainly wasn’t there as a lanky teenager. You snap your eyes back to the TV, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

He chuckles, and it’s a low, lazy sound that does nothing to steady your heart rate. You pretend you’re enthralled by the sitcom characters on the screen, hoping the next few minutes pass quickly—or that Ava and Matt finally decide they’ve had enough.

But as you stare at the screen, you find your mind wandering, remembering the feel of his lips on yours, that electric rush you once craved. And judging by the heavy silence from Chris’s side of the couch, he’s remembering, too.

You and Chris remain on opposite ends of the couch, the TV blaring in a desperate attempt to drown out Ava and Matt’s enthusiastic finale. Finally, the unmistakable moans and muffled thuds from upstairs taper off. A few minutes later, you hear shuffling footsteps on the stairs.

Ava appears in the living room doorway, hair even more disheveled than before, cheeks flushed. She looks from you to Chris, who’s still shirtless, arms crossed as he lounges in an almost-too-casual pose. Something in her gaze flickers—mischief, curiosity—and you realize she’s not missing a single detail.

“All right,” she says, stretching her arms over her head like she’s been in a yoga class instead of a bedroom romp. “We’re done. For now.” Then she eyes you and Chris. “So, did you two fuck while we were busy, or…?”

Your face heats instantly. “No!” you blurt out, a little too fast. “Of course not.”

Chris just huffs a low laugh, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. “No,” he echoes, nonchalantly. But he doesn’t deny the tension that’s been crackling between you both all morning.

Ava narrows her eyes, scanning the room. “Mmm-hmm, sure,” she says with a knowing drawl. She lets her gaze settle on Chris for a moment, then glances back to you. Though she doesn’t say anything outright, it’s like she’s clocked something beneath the waistband of his sweats—and is doing her best not to cackle.

Before you can overthink her silent observation, Matt stumbles down the stairs behind her, hair sticking up in every possible direction. He looks like he barely has the energy to walk straight.

Chris pushes up from the couch—maybe a little too abruptly, as if trying to hide any…obvious issues. “C’mon, man,” he mutters, grabbing Matt by the arm with more force than necessary. “Time to get you home.”

Matt, still half-asleep, doesn’t protest. He just mumbles something incoherent, kisses Ava goodbye,  and lets Chris steer him toward the door. Ava steps aside, watching them go, biting back a grin.

“Uh, thanks for the hospitality, I guess,” Chris calls over his shoulder, still wearing that faint smirk. He glances at you once, eyes lingering a beat longer than normal before he hauls Matt outside.

The door clicks shut. Silence falls—blessedly free of moaning and snark. You exhale, slumping back against the couch cushion. All the tension of the morning seems to settle in your shoulders, and you rub the knot at the back of your neck.

Then Ava whips around, hands on her hips, eyes dancing with amusement. “Holy shit, girl,” she hisses, scurrying over to flop down beside you. “Did you see the giant hard-on Chris had?”

You choke on air, cheeks flaming. “Ava!”

She throws her head back, laughing despite her obvious hangover. “I’m serious! Dude was packing some serious heat under those sweatpants. And you’re telling me you two didn’t get busy?”

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “We did not—no! Absolutely not,” you insist, shaking your head. “And can we not talk about…that?”

Ava props an elbow on the back of the couch, eyeing you like she sees right through your protest. “So you’re telling me he was just sitting here, sporting a massive boner, and nothing happened?” She snorts. “He’s still into you, obviously.”

You swallow hard, memories of the heated banter and near-constant tension flashing through your mind. “It’s not like that,” you try again, but the argument sounds weak even to your own ears. “He’s just waiting for Matt—well, was waiting—to get home safe.”

“Right,” she says, drawing the word out. Then she pats your leg in mock sympathy, still clearly amused. “You know you’re free to live your life, right? Even if it includes hooking up with your old…whatever the fuck he was.”

You set your jaw, refusing to meet her gleeful gaze. “He’s annoying. We bicker. That’s it.”

Ava shrugs, standing up to stretch again. “Annoying plus bickering can sometimes equal good, angry sex. Just saying.”

You toss a couch pillow at her, sending her into another wave of laughter. “Oh my God, you’re impossible.”

She catches the pillow and smirks. “And you’re in denial, babe.” Then she lifts her hands in surrender. “But hey, my job here is done. I’m all freshened up, physically satisfied, and apparently, I missed quite a show down here, too.”

Rolling your eyes dramatically, you bury your face in your hands. “I cannot deal with this conversation before lunch.”

Ava laughs again, patting your shoulder and leaning in conspiratorially. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you think about Chris’s, um, situation in peace.”

With that, she saunters off to the kitchen, presumably for more coffee—or to nurse her hangover with some Advil. You remain on the couch, heart still beating a tad too fast, unable to stop yourself from recalling the way Chris smirked when Ava asked if you’d hooked up.

Because maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as opposed to the idea as you claimed to be. And if Ava’s not wrong about the whole “obvious interest” thing, then the next time you see him, it might be a whole new kind of mess.

tags: @mattsobvimyfav

comment to be on the tag list!

[lavandulawrites]

Autonomy Of a Free Soul

Chapter 1: Wonderland

Repost

This is an yandere genshin men x reader that will have multiple chapters. This will be cross posted on ao3. It will partially follow the plot of genshin impact.

Synopsis: You find yourself in the meadow by the giant oak tree at Windrise. You have faint memories of falling into a well which is deeply hidden inside a cave by your home. You get captivated by the tune a green clad man plays on his lyre high up in the tree.

Masterlist

Warnings: female reader

Word count: 4227

Light peered through your eyelashes as your eyelids fluttered. A pleasant warmth enveloped you. The fresh breeze caressed your cheeks. The surface underneath you was soft and you would have thought that it was a bed had you not smelled the fresh air of the outdoors.

You slowly opened your eyes and blinked at the sun. You slowly sat up and let your eyes roam your surroundings. You were laying on a green meadow filled with various delicate wild flowers. A few birds flew across the clear sky. A few dandelion seeds blowed with the wind towards you. To your right were a huge tree, who’s branches reached for the blue endless sky.

After a while you rose to your feet and began following the little stream up to the tree. A couple of fishes swam happily along the stream and a few frogs hopped in front of your path.

Despite your confused state, you were filled with tranquility. Had you not known better, you would have thought you had reached heaven.

As you stopped by the large tree you heard the soft melody of a lyre. You walked around the thick trunk in search of its source.

On one of its thick branches sat a light green clad man. His long and slender fingers gently strummed the strings of his lyre, creating a beautiful melody. Though the melody had no words, you could feel the heavy emotion it carried.

You had no idea how long you stood underneath the tree listening to his song. The man opened his eyes and revealed his stunning cyan irises. He was around your age, early twenties, but his big eyes revealed wisdom beyond your imagination.

His gaze met yours and you were stunned by his beauty. He hopped down from the branch with playful elegance.

He bowed before you, his lyre behind his back. “Hello my beautiful maiden. What an honour it is to have such a stunning lady to be my audience. I am truly a lucky bard” he smiled and winked at you playfully.

You were taken aback by his flirtatious words. “Hello” you smiled back. “Your music is really beautiful. Does the song you just played have a name?”

“Not yet” he shook his head. He tapped his chin in a thoughtful manner before he lit up “What if I name it after you? What’s your name sweetheart?” his tone gleeful.

“[Name]. What’s yours?”

“Oh my, what a lovely name! I am Venti the bard” he took of his hat and bowed deeply, with his feet crossed. He spun his hat in the air before he put it back on. “I haven’t seen you around before and believe me when I say that I know everyone in Mondstadt. So [Name], where exactly are you from?”

At his question your eyes widened. You had almost forgotten how you woke up suddenly in the flowerbed. Before you had woken up in this unfamiliar landscape, you had been on a walk in the woods by your home. You had explored a cave and had tripped on a root and fallen down into an ancient well. When you opened your eyes you found yourself here in the meadow.

“You are right I’m not from around here” you sighed. You hesitated. Was it wise to tell him about the well? You couldn’t be too sure if he was to be trusted or not. After a moment of thinking, you chose to tell him all the details. Maybe he could help you? “I fell into a well inside a cave back home, but strangely I can’t remember everything else. My memories from my home is there, but they’re glossy” you prayed that he wouldn’t think that you were crazy.

“I see…That’s really unfortunate. I don’t think I can help you with returning home” Venti smiled sadly.

“It’s okay. I guess there is no helping it…”

His hand slipped into his shorts and pulled out a cloth that was round in shape. He opened the flowery cloth and revealed the reddest apple you had ever seen. “Do you like apples? I myself absolutely love them. I can’t ever seem to get enough” he laughed.

“I love apples” you nodded and returned his smile.

Venti skilfully broke the apple in half with his fingers. He gave you one of the half’s. The aroma of the apple reached your nose and you hummed in delight.

“Smells good? It will taste even better” he took a bite himself and closed his eyes in delight.

You followed his example. The taste did not disappoint. The apple was juicy and sweet. It was perfect.

“Do you know where you’ll stay tonight?” he asked as he wiped his fingers in the cloth. His apple completely vanished.

“No…” you smiled sheepishly.

“I see… The city is quite far away. A couple of hours walk in fact.”

His eyes got a certain glint in them. “But I have another way of transportation” he winked.

You tilted your head at his implication. “Another way of transportation? What might that be?”

Venti turned his back slightly towards you and pointed at a round crystal decoration. “I’ll use this! The power of anemo sure is amazing!”

“Anemo?” you blinked at him.

Venti quickly spun around. His expression one of shock. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what visions and elemental powers are?”

“Umm… I don’t… Sorry” you winced in embarrassment. You really didn’t understand a thing.

“I guess you really aren’t from around here. Worry not! Visions are amulets that let people control the elements. Anemo is the wind element. Mondstadt, where we are now, is the nation of anemo”

“Ohh… I see” you nodded, but you found it difficult to believe in amulets and elemental powers. Was he playing tricks on you?

“I can sense your hesitation. Let me demonstrate”. The bard held his hand of for you to take. “May I?”

You nodded as you took his hand. His skin was soft and warm.

Wind engulfed you both as Venti wrapped his arms around you. “Hold on tight!”

The wind lifted you both up high in the air. You two soared fast in the air and you clutched your hands at tightly as you could onto his arms. “Don’t be scared! Trust me! We will not fall down!”

The landscape became almost blurry underneath your feet as you moved as fast as the wind. You had never felt as free as you did soaring high in the air with a man you just had met. It felt like a scene from one of the fairytales your mother used to read you.

A city could be seen in to horizon. When you two got closer, you could faintly make out three large windmills and a large cathedral.

“That’s Mondstadt city. The city of freedom. Home to many bards such as myself” Venti’s breath ghosted your air softly.

“It’s beautiful” you said in awe.

Venti laughed at your comment. “It really is isn’t it?” he sounded almost like a proud father.

The two of you landed in front of a big stone bridge which led up to the city.

The cobblestone clicked underneath your shoes as you made your way over. A small boy was standing by the edge of the bridge feeding a couple of pigeons. The birds fled at the sight of the two of you, earning you both an earful from the little boy.

When you reached the gates, you were greeted by two knights. Venti only smiled and greeted them, which they returned.

The city was lively and music filled the streets. Multiple street vendors were littered across the streets.

Venti led you up to a more quiet part of town. “This hotel is both cheap and nice” he told you as he opened the hotel door which was painted a lively red colour.

The walls were of dark brown panesl and the red rug with a forest motif that led to the staircase was well-loved. The lobby was decorated with different nicknacks. On the walls hung paintings of the city.

The owner of the hotel was an elderly man with blond hair with greying streaks. When he smiled his eyes crinkled with crows feet. He looked like someone’s grandfather. He smiled at Venti from behind the reception desk that was cluttered with various papers and an comical large flower vase filled with tulips in the colour of the rainbow. “Hello Venti. What can I do for you today?”

“Hello Meier. Do you have any rooms available for this young lady?” he smiled at the man. Venti had told you on the way to the hotel that Meier owed him a favour. “She doesn’t have anywhere to stay tonight and I thought since you owe me, that maybe you had a spare room for her?”

Meier’s smile turned sheepish. “I’m sorry Venti, but I really don’t have any spare room. The whole hotel is booked. You see a couple of diplomats from the other nations have come here and they have taken all the rooms in the finer hotels”. He turned his eyes round you “I am really sorry miss. Perhaps you could try some of the ins close to the city?”

You bid your farewells to Meier before you exited the hotel.

You sighed as you sat down at a bench near a fountain. You were far from home, in a whole different world given the unfamiliar city and the weird creatures or rather monsters you had seen, and you had absolutely nowhere to stay the night. Money was also something you completely lacked.

Venti was staring of into the distance, deeply lost in thought. After a while he turned towards you. “As Meier said, the other hotels are absolutely packed so it’s not worth to even check. ” he sighed. “I’m sorry. Here I was trying to be a good Mondstadt guide too” he shook his head, causing his braids to gently flap against his cheeks in a rather cute manner.

“No, no. Don’t apologise. This isn’t your fault. Not in the slightest” you tried to reassure him. “But what about the ins? Maybe they have some rooms available?”

“They might have some rooms available, but the roads outside of the city is filled with monsters lately. It’s simply to dangerous for someone without a vision. And I take it that you don’t have any training in combat?” his voice was serious and his eyes intense.

“I see. I don’t have any combat skills” you sighed.

After a moment of silence Venti spoke up again. “What if you stay at my place? There’s space and I will sleep on the couch” he looked at you with something you recognised as hope. His large eyes glittered and the way the soft light from the sunset hit them made them absolutely breathtaking.

You were so in awe of his beauty that you almost forgot to answer him. “I would love to. Thank you very much Venti. I really hope it isn’t too much of a bother for you” you smiled at him with gratefulness.

“Not at all! Let’s get going before it gets too late.”

Venti’s home was in a apartment building in the livelier part of the city. His apartment was on the top floor (the fifth floor). The walls were covered in a pale green wallpaper with dandelion seeds motifs. It consisted of a bathroom, a bedroom with a queen bed, a open kitchen and living room, a closet and a balcony. The balcony overlooked a little stage with rows of chairs in front of it. Venti told you that it was a place where amateurs could preform, be it music or plays.

Venti led you to the kitchen which he began rummaging through the cabinets. “It’s late so I’ll cook us some dinner. It won’t take long.”

“Do you need any help?” you asked as your eyes trailed hai movements. Despite his human appearance, he moved like he belonged in the sky. His every movement was fluid and his movements looked like dancing steps.

“No. Sit back and relax. You’re my guest after all” he smirked.

You hummed at the delicious taste of the pasta bolognese. “Wow Venti! You’re a really great cook!”

“Thank you, though I’m only an amateur” he smiled as he took a bite himself.

The dining table was of light wood. It was cowered with a white table cloth with embroidered light blue flowers. A candlestick was lit in the middle of the table, creating a cozy feeling. At the end of the table were various note sheets which Venti had tried to hastily clean up when you first entered the apartment.

“How does one obtain a vision?” you asked as you took a sip of the dandelion wine he had poured in your glass.

“It’s a favour from the gods. Those that reside in Celestia. It’s a sing of great ambition. The anemo vision is given to those who value freedom in a great deal” he nodded towards his vision that were laying on top of the countertop.

“Ahhh I see. How many types of visions are there?”

“Seven. All the seven nations are the homes of different elements. Mondstadt as you know is the nation of anemo, Liyue is the nation of geo, Inazuma is electro, Sumeru is dendro, Natlan is pyro and Snezhnaya is cryo” he spinners his fork in some spaghetti before he lifted the fork to his mouth. “Each nation have their own archon, god if you will. The one in Mondstadt is called Barbatos.”

“I see” you nodded. “Quite fascinating.”

“Yeah, I guess you can indeed say that”. He noticed your empty plate. “I’ll go and clean the dishes, then I will make your bed” he rose form his seat and collect the empty dishes.

“I should help you” you stood up and carried the empty wine glasses to the sink.

“No it’s okay. You’re my guest” he said reassuringly.

Venti’s bookshelf’s were filled with various works of poetry, fiction, song lyrics and historical books. You ran your fingertips over their backs. Your fingers were coated in a light veil of dust. You took out a book on Mondstadt’s history out of the shelf. You sat down in the light teal sofa. A few strands of treads were sticking out of the seems, making it clear as day that this sofa was well loved.

Your eyes went to the kitchen were Venti was humming on a tune while he scrubbed a pot clean. His voice was angelic and you hoped you would be so lucky that you would be able to hear him sing sometime. Venti was so kind and welcoming. He had told you the history of Mondstadt as you had walked among the streets of the city. He had told you so much that you felt like you knew Mondstadt like one would with a childhood friend. Yet, you knew absolutely nothing about Venti. You knew of his profession and his love for dandelions and wine, but that was it.

Venti’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “I’m finished” he stood in front of you on the soft rug. “It’s getting late, so maybe we should get some sleep. I have made your bed. Don’t worry, I changed the sheets too” he smiled. The sun from the sunset casted a warm light on Venti’s features. His eyes glittered more than ever before and he looked like someone straight out from a fairytale. He didn’t look human.

“Yes we should. Thank you Venti. Thank you for your hospitality. I’m extremely grateful” you smiled sweetly up at him.

He chuckled. You swore that you could see a faint blush lightly dusting his cheeks.

Venti’s bed was comfortable and the duvet soft. You quickly drifted off into a deep slumber.

Your dreams were of wells and deep caves. You tried to wake up, but to no avail.

After a long night filled with night terrors, you finally woke up to bird chirping. Sunlight were shining through the white curtains, warming your skin.

You lazily sat up and stretched your limbs. You still felt helpless regarding your situation, but it was little you could do. At least at the moment.

You turned on the shower and let the warm water hit your skin. Venti’s soap had a slight smell of apples and you welcomed the faint fragrance.

After your shower you got dressed and went to the kitchen.

Venti was sitting by the kitchen table while reading a newspaper. His black brows furrowed in concentration. On the table were a basket of bread and strawberry jam and apple jam. He had poured two glasses of apple juice which looked refreshing. His eyes flickered up to meet yours. He smiled gently. “Good morning sleepyhead. Slept well?”

You took the seat opposite of him. “Good morning. Not really. I had a nightmare” you sighed. “But thanks again for staying here. I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn’t” you laughed slightly.

“Nightmares are an awful thing. Unfortunately I can’t seem to get rid of them myself” he smiled sadly before his expression changed into a jovial one. “You’re very much welcome.”

You two talked about everything and nothing while you ate. Venti was easy to talk to and you felt you could tell him everything. It was almost like you were compelled. It was a peculiar feeling.

“We need to get you some new clothes.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have any money…” you sighed. Your situation really was unfortunate.

“I will pay. Consider it a gift from me” he smiled.

“But you have already done so much for me. I feel guilty.”

“Please don’t. Believe me when I say that it’s my pleasure.”

“Okay. Thank you” you smiled at the bard.

He returned you smile. “I know of another outlander that is here in Mondstadt. I can introduce you to her. Maybe she will be able to help you with your predicament? And if not, you will have made a new friend. Friends is something you never can get too many off.”

Angle’s Share was rather empty given how early it was. Some patrons were playing a game of cards as they sipped on their beer steins.

The bartender by the counter greeted you as you entered. His hair was red as fresh blood, giving a stark contrast to his pale skin. He was handsome and you could easily understand why he was the bachelor of Mondstadt (that was Venti had told you on your way there).

He grunted at the sight of Venti. “Here to pay your tab?” his voice deep and velvety.

Venti laughed awkwardly. “No, I’m actually showing my friend here, around Mondstadt. Diluc this is [Name], [Name] this is Diluc” he gestured to each of you.

“Nice to meet you [Name]” the red head smiled.

“Nice to meet you as well Diluc” you smiled back.

“Oh by the way. Have you seen Lumine today?” the bard asked Diluc who was polishing a wineglass.

“She’s upstairs” his answer curt as he continued to work.

Venti nodded before he led you upstairs.

The second floor was empty save from a blond girl and a fairy-like creature that was floating beside her. The girl turned around and smiled when she saw Venti. The fairy followed her example. “Tone deaf bard!” she said she waved her little hand. Her voice was high pitched and nearly gave you a headache.

“Hello ladies” Venti playfully greeted. “This is [Name]. [Name] this is Lumine and Paimon. Lumine was the one who saved Mondstadt from the incident I told you about.”

“Nice to meet you. Though I couldn’t have done it on my own. I got help from my friends” Lumine smiled. Her topaz coloured eyes shone in the sunlight that peered through the open window. “Why don’t you two take a seat?”

“Nice to meet you Lumine. I must say your strength, from what I have heard, is truly admirable” you smiled as you took a seat on the wooden bench. Venting followed suit and took a swipe at besides you. His knee brushed against yours as he made himself comfortable. You could smell his scent which smelled of fresh apples and wildflowers. It was a pleasant scent that suited him perfectly.

“You flatter me” Lumine smiled. “Should I order anything for you? Some dandelion wine? Or maybe some freshly pressed juice?”

“Dandelion for me if you would be so kind” Venti said. You could see his excitement from the mere mentioning of dandelion wine. His love for the wine was kinda cute.

“I would love some orange juice” you said.

Lumine nodded before she rose and ventured downstairs. The stairs creaked under her steps.

Paimon turned her gaze to you. “So, how did the two do you meet?” she tilted her head in a a childlike manner. Sparkles sparkled around her.

“We met at Windrise” Venti answered.

Paimon nodded. Her brows were furrowed in thought. She was about to say something more when Lumine came back with two glasses. One with orange juice and the other with dandelion wine.

You and Venti thanked her before you both took a sip. The orange juice was fresh and a little sweet, but not too sweet. You hummed in delight.

“So where did you two meet?” she asked as she took a sip of her half full glass of grape juice.

“Windrise” Paimon answered. Lumine shot her a look. “They told Paimon while you were ordering. Don’t give Paimon that look!” the little fairy stumped her feet in the air.

“Windrise… that’s quite far from the city. What were you doing out there?” the blond woman asked you.

At her question you froze. Venti noticed your hesitation. “She’s an outlander just like you Lumine.”

Lumine’s eyes widened. “Oh really? I have never met another outlander. How did you end up here in Teyvat?” her eyes curious.

“I am not too sure actually… I just woke up in a field of flowers by the oak tree” you fidgeted with your fingers.

“Ah… I see. I myself lost my brother. We were travelling from world to world before we ended up here. I am on a mission to find him again” her voice filled with determination. Lumine was a truly remarkable woman and you found yourself in awe at her. You wished you had her bravery. “Paimon here is my companion and guide” Paimon smiled wide at her words.

“Maybe you want to join our journey?” Paimon asked.

“Maybe… I am not too sure yet. I’m still trying to process everything” you smiled sheepishly.

Lumine nodded. “Understandable. We are gonna stay here in Mondstadt for a while before we go to Liyue.”

Your conversation with Lumine and Paimon was pleasant. Paimon had a lot to say and her eagerness was quite adorable. After a while you and Venti bid them goodbye as you headed two a boutique in search of some new clothes for you.

The boutique’s interior was pink and rather feminine. The walls were cowered in murals of pink flowerbeds. The owner was a sweet young woman who was quick to help you find something that suited you.

You ended up with a couple of different outfits and some underwear. You thanked Venti for his generosity. The bard only smiled gently. His eyes brimming with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

As the blue sky turned a pinkish colour you ventured up to the cathedral. The building was massive and you felt at its mercy as it towered over the city. In front of the cathedral stood a statue of Barbatos. The statue was tall and made of marble. It was clad in robes and it had large wings on its back. His hands stretched out in a form of prayer. He had two twin braided on the said of his head. You admired the statue for a while. It looked familiar. There was no doubt about it. It looked an awfully a lot like Venti. You turned to look at the bard which was staring out at the city. He was lost in thought and did not notice your staring.

“This statue is really beautiful” you said as you gazed up at its face.

Venti turned to face you. “Yeah… The sculptures did an excellent job.”

“The same goes for the cathedral. Its architecture is absolutely breathtaking. Do you often attended services in the cathedral?” you ask the dark haired man.

“I agree. The craftsman is extremely impressive”. He shook his head “I usually don’t, but I sometimes swing by. The organists are really talented.”

“I want to attend a service some time. Just to see how it is” you gazed up at the looming building.

“We can go together sometime” he looked at you softly.

The soft bed was welcoming after all you walking. You pulled the duvet over your shoulder as you burrowed your face into the pillow. Venti had insisted on you staying as long as you needed. He would take you to the Adventures Guild tomorrow in search of some jobs you could do in order to earn some Mora.

Sleep wrapped you in its warm embrace and you feel into a deep slumber. This time your dream was filled with cyan coloured eyes and white feathers.

[hottubdarling]

“Where’s your God now?” - Luigi Mangione x reader smut based on this post ↓

creds to @cranberrydietcoke and @ninemillimeterangel

summary: you are spending your night studying at Luigi's place, but a conversation about you being a christian changes the route of your night

warnings: oral sex (fem), dirty talk, blasphemy ig, unprotected sex, creampie

English is not my first language!

Spending the night studying at Lu's apartment made you a little nervous, not because of the finals, but because of him. You were going there to study and do it alone with a guy felt so, so wrong. As a christian, it was crazy to think you were about to do something like that.

You rang the doorbell and waited for him. He opened the door and smiled at you. You two went to his bedroom and sat on the floor to start studying. Your heart raced when he closed the door.

He opened the biology book, and you two started doing some flashcards, asking questions to each other and discussing how the human body works.

“You know what? Our bodies are amazing. It’s hard to believe that the nature is capable to create something like this”

— That’s why i believe in God - you said.

He looked at you, like you were saying the craziest thing ever.

“How can you prove that? Have you ever seen Him?”

— No, but I can feel Him, that’s all that matters.

“Just because we have perfect bodies with perfect systems, it doesn’t mean there’s a divine creator behind everything, you know?”

“I feel Him, I can talk to Him, you don’t understand”

“The science is the truth, I truly don’t understand how can you believe in something that’s not proven when you have real facts in front of you”

His face was getting closer to yours at every single word, the wetness of his breath was driving you crazy.

“Why are you freaking out? Just because i wanna follow the God's plan?”

“What the fuck are you talkin' about? This is the real life, and you're wasting it, you could be having the best experiences, but you rather be caged to this belief”

You lay on his bed, sighing in depths of confusion, desire and disappointment.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, if you didn’t get all that you deserve.

he’s ecstatic at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, he sinks down beside you and pulls your body closer to his.

“you've no idea how often i loose my mind thinking about this, about how stupid you are for depriving yourself so much”

As more he talks, he gets rougher, his feelings seems ten times more intense, his hands hold you tighter. He unzips your white dress and starts kissing your neck aggressively, leaving hickeys everywhere.

“I wanna give you real experiences, you want this, don't you?"

leaving you completely naked, he notices the wet mess that was happening all over your legs.

“you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

feeling the wetness pooling between your legs, he presses his nose against your clit, you cry out gripping his shoulders tightly.

"oh fuck, luigi," you gasp, your nails scratching his back. He smiles at you with his head between your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“So, where is your God now? I can’t see Him, I can’t feel Him…”

“oh my…” you were loosing your senses, his hands sliding up your thighs,

“look at you, you don’t even know who are you praying to”

"i want you, luigi," you cry, "i want you so bad."

“i know, my love, i know,” he says, kissing the running tears down your cheeks. Whimpering underneath him, he fucks into you like he’s craving to see you crumble.

“you’re so good, so perfect and wet, I just can’t help myself.”

He throws you on the bed, and enters you hungrily. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me in the eyes, my love. You look so fuckin�� gorgeous with your legs spread.“

With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely, you cry out as he hit that sweet spot inside you, he bites your neck while you’re crying against his chest.

“You’re so perfect, everything about you, I can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

“I want you. I want your cum inside me.”

his cock wildly moving inside your wet pussy, his dark eyes looking at your body with nothing but love, his hands tightly brushing against your waist.

"god, i'm gonna cum,"

You can't hold yourself any longer. you cum hard, your body shakes with pleasure, he spills himself inside you, filling you with his sweet cum.

He smiles at you, giving him the perfect view to watch your face as you fall apart over and over on his cock.

[alicvnt]

the more and more i think about alicent and rhaenyra's "friendship", the more i think that alicent deserved way better ִ ִ i dunno, i just find it crazy how tb is always like, "alicent betrayed rhaenyra" and "alicent stole the throne from rhaenyra to give to her son" ִ ִ what the fuck was alicent supposed to do? come on, team black supporters, think.

it was rhaenyra who betrayed alicent first when she lied to her about daemon touching her, let us not forget. also, it was always alicent trying to reach out to rhaenyra to make amends, but rhaenyra was too much of a spoiled brat to realize that alicent never had a choice to marry who she wanted, unlike rhaenyra.

rhaenyra was given a choice on who she would marry at the beginning before viserys grew too frustrated ִ ִ and henceforth, he picked out a husband for her (all because rhaenyra thought she was too good for any of the lords presented to her) ִ ִ for fucks sake, she could've married harwin if she truly wanted, and honestly it would've been better if she had since then her children's legitimacy wouldn't be put into question.

and i'm sorry, but the whole "the greens are traitors" is just soo silly to me because really ִ ִ what tf did y'all expect? was alicent just supposed to happily bend the knee to rhaenyra when ALL of her children's lives would be put in jeopardy?

that no matter what, as long as aegon, aemond, and daeron breathed, their claim would ultimately always be stronger than rhaenyra's claim (especially aegon's) − regardless of what viserys wanted, aegon is the firstborn son and has a very strong (and legitimate) claim regardless of tb's denial ִ ִ it's just a fact.

besides that, rhaenyra literally says it herself, that she "must" take aegon's head for all to see ִ ִ i guess she must've forgotten all about jaehaerys, just like the writers made her forget all about her own son, lucerys.

i also find it comical that tb's defense in all of this is "an eye for an eye, a son for a son" ִ ִ but what justice was done for aemond when he lost his eye? or are we just forgetting the fact that there was no justice given to the child who was maimed by his bastard nephew?

i dunno ִ ִ i just guess that if i was put in alicent's shoes, i too would crown my son for the purposes of not only just protecting my children, but also to spite my deadbeat (rapist) husband who neglected and ignored not just me, but all of my children.

[class1akids]

Do you know the pannel/chapter Rei says she doesn't want more kids? I haven't been able to find it and lately I had seen people insistent that Rei did want Shouto and Natsuo, so I don't know what to think anymore.

Ch 301:

Rei: No... That would be much to cruel! Especially now that Toya knows what you are hoping to achieve through the children!

Endeavor: blabla new burns every day, that's the only way to make him give up. Since he'll never be the one to surpass All Might. [Crazy eyes]

[Rei looks scared]

Natsuo is born. Touya is devastated.

[Endeavor more crazy looks - with smiling All Might in between]

[Rei in a tanktop looking sad/ resigned / scared ]

[Shoto is born]

Basically, the gist of it is that Rei knew that this would destroy Touya psychologically and tried arguing against it. Endeavor used the "this is to protect Touya" card, but also the framing makes it clear that it is just an excuse. Enji is not thinking about Touya, he's thinking about All Might.

And Rei in the end is not in a position to refuse. She agreed to a quirk marriage, she knew full well what Enji was after and she has zero power in this relationship.

I find Shouto's birth one of the saddest panels in the manga. His father looks at him with crazy greed, his mother is sad and Touya is broken. The lines between them show that the family is truly broken by this event.

[acourtofthought]

It's crazy to me when people argue that Azriel is more attractive than Lucien and that is why Elain, the most beautiful sister, would end up with him.

I think that Lucien and Azriel both are extremely attractive in different ways and it's unfair to compare them, but -

Azriel was tempting to Nesta who was willing to sleep with anyone while she avoided the bond and her feelings whereas Lucien showed no interest in anyone after his bond snapped, but was tempting enough for Feyre, a happily mated female, to go whoa

Also, Azriel is more attractive... to who exactly?

Not to Feyre, she thinks Rhys is the most beautiful male she's ever seen.

Not to Amren, she never said a word about Az's looks but called Lucien handsome.

The King called Lucien handsome as well but made no mention of Az's looks.

Even Cassian thought of Lucien as handsome but never had thoughts of Az's features.

Elain found Az attractive enough to kiss but there was no declaration of being completely blown away by how good looking she found him. He could be just one of many good looking fae to her but not necessarily the best looking.

According to Nesta, Az is "the prettiest" of the brothers but that doesn't mean she finds him the most attractive. My take is that she just finds Az to have elegant looks, maybe a bit boyish with a smooth and clean shaven face whereas someone like Cassian would look masculine and rugged to her. Clearly she was more attracted to Cassian than Az from the start which means Az is not the best looking to her. "Prettiest" doesn't necessarily mean hottest or best looking, it's just comparing Thomas Doherty to Henry Cavill.

Not to mention she was only comparing him to Rhys and Cassian, saying one guy out of three is the "prettiest" doesn't mean much of anything. Since she didn't add Lucien to the comparison of the three brothers we have no idea what she personally feels about Lucien's looks.

"Prettiest brother" with "prettiest sister" makes for such a weak argument and I thought the same when Feyre's entire opinion about Elain and Az was based off "how handsome they would be together" and how they'd have "peace and quiet" together. That sounds wildly shallow and boring for a fantasy romance series.

Instead we could have "the most beautiful female he'd ever seen" (something Az did not think in his bonus) along with a handsome future High Lord with a wicked scar down the side of his face.

If we're truly basing things of something so shallow as looks alone, Lucien and Elain read as a way more exciting pairing than two pretty people who just sit quietly together.

[pomribs]

ok i know everyones already sung their praises about mouthwashing and how well written it, and especially the dead pixel scene, is, so i know everything im gonna say has already been picked apart to death but i literally cannot get it out of my mind so i just wanna ramble about it I LOVE THIS GAME

anya says she enjoys the night time screen on the ship, but cant ignore that theres a dead pixel in the corner of the screen. curly says he cant see it, and itll drive him crazy looking for it. but he says he doesnt think it 'ruins the illusion' of the image and that hes just used to looking at the bigger picture. this pixel is obviously a reference to jimmy. anya wants to enjoy her time on the ship, but she physically cant put jimmy out of her mind. hes tainted her view of everything and now hell always be there, in the back of her mind. curly cant see the pixel. he doesnt see jimmy for who he truly is. he tries to see the best in everybody; he appreciates the bigger picture without focusing on the gritty details.

anya asks curly how many days they have left on the ship. they deduce that they have approximately 8 months left, which is also important to note the amount of time it would take for someone recently pregnant to have a baby. anya then asks why curly supposes they put a lock on the cockpit and not the sleeping quarters. you find out how meaningful this is when you realise anya was assaulted in her sleeping chamber because there was no lock on the door, and no one could help curly because there was a lock on the cockpit. ironically, curly answers, "safety."

(also interesting to note there were also locks put on the axe and the gun, which mightve helped them help curly?? or just generally it wouldve changed the story a lot since they were such pivotal objects in the story. maybe curly wouldnt have struggled so much to see the gritty details if jimmy was able to access that gun... why the fuck theyd need a gun in space anyway beats me but i think pony express is already up to their ass in liabilities by this point so hey!! whats one more!!!)

[wlfhardinc]

@akhillaous This is in response to your comment because it’s too long to say it in a reply. Plus this will explain my post for everyone else

Ok this is going to be long. I’m not great at explaining so this won’t be coherent plus this would have been way easier if I had visuals but alas The song of Achilles is a book so I’ll just have to try. In season 1 I think Jayce has more similarities with Achilles and Viktor has more similarities with Patroclus. Achilles and Patroclus were very innocent in their beliefs and whatnot in the beginning of the book. Jayce and V too in season 1. However that’s when Thetis/Mel come in. Yes I know this is kinda weird- I don’t want to compare Mel to Achilles’s mom either but hear me out. Mel sort of manipulated Jayce to do what he did for her benefits . Thetis did the same to Achilles to get what she wanted. Anyway, when Achilles and Patroclus end up going to Troy to fight, it all begins fine. Achilles protects Patroclus as much as possible because Patroclus has no fighters genes whatsoever. Jayce was also kind of protective to Viktor in some ways. My point is everything begins well. Both ships have the same principles. Achilles vows to not kill Hector (because of the prophecy that if he does, he will die) which is what Patroclus also wants, Jayce wants to make the world a better place which aligns with Viktor’s ideology. It is only later on when Achilles starts to get too prideful with all of the newfound fame as aristos aichon (best of all the Greeks) He makes dumbass decisions and Patroclus starts to get a little pissed. This is similar to season 1 Jayce and Viktor. Also I just want to quickly mention the women. Sky and Briseis both have a platonic but great relationship to Viktor and Patroclus. Mel and Deidama both had a romantic relationship with Jayce and Achilles where it is unclear whether they truly loved each other. In the Song of Achilles Achilles seems to have been forced to have sex with her while other perspectives on the Greek mythology says that they loved each other. In arcane everybody has different opinions and perspectives on Jayce and Mel’s relationship. I think those are all the parallels I could muster up for season 1. Next is season 2. In season 2 Jayce=Patroclus, Viktor=Achilles. There are definitely more evident similarities in season 2 I feel like. Viktor obviously leaves Jayce, ending their partnership. Whilst Achilles doesn’t exactly leave Patroclus, they do get into more and more arguments and differences. Viktor goes back to the undercity and becomes Jesus 2.0 or whatever. Achilles becomes prideful and starts getting high on all of the glory he’s receiving. Although both characters still have the same principles, they execute it terribly which leads to some problems with their partners as we know. Viktor goes crazy, Achilles goes crazy. At the end because of Achilles’s mess ups and arrogance, Patroclus basically sacrifices himself. Jayce did the same with Viktor. In the end, Jayce and Viktor sort of die and just become eternal beings or whatever. Patroclus and Achilles are also both dead in the end and also meet each other in the afterlife, becoming eternal beings in a way. However in the Song of Achilles, Patroclus was at first not buried properly which is why he was just a wandering ghost for some time. When Achilles died his situation worsened as literally the only person who would have buried him was dead. Achilles was buried because everyone loved him so there was no way he wasn’t buried. It was only when Thetis decided to let him go to the afterlife that he was able to meet Achilles. I thought that was pretty similar to the ending of Arcane when people would write the names of their loved ones who died during the war and no one wrote Viktor’s name because the only person who would’ve was with him. Also as I said in my post, ‘historians’/the general audience will know both relationships as close friends or brother. I’m sorry that this is so badly explained but I tried my best😭😭

[melosliving]

aaron pierre & kelvin harrison jr x actress!reader

"I know I’m not seeing your bare feet, girl. the interview is about to start ! What are you still doing in slippers ?" still sitting on your high chair you look up a bit, pausing the movements of your makeup brush only to meet Kelvin’s brown eyes in the mirror in front of you.

You quickly turned in your chair, placing one of your hands on his mouth to shut him up. Indeed, today was the first day of the long press tour for the new lion king movie (you played sarabi) and you were already over it. The whole studio was drowned in commotion, people running from a side to the another one to try to keep everything in order. Now, you were absolutely delighted and grateful about being part of the cast of this big movie, with incredible people, but the part where you had to look incredible all the time was probably the worst part for you. "Shush ! Caroline wants me to wear heels, you know how I feel about heels, kel."

a muffled "and ?" was heard as he tried to talk under your hand. You definitely wished to describe yourself as a high maintenance girly, but you couldn’t help but wanting to put it all to the side and be the low maintenance girl you truly were. Sometimes it was just too much. Just like right now : as much as your black fitted blazer looked tea on you, you couldn’t bring yourself to wear the heels Caroline, your stylist, wanted you to wear.

before you could even think of an answer to Kelvin’s question, what seemed to be aaron appeared in the mirror, looking at you two weird. "You’re not ready yet, lovie ? Where are your shoes ?" he asked, coming closer. "This lady right here doesn’t want to wear her heels. Can you believe this girl wants to do the interview barefooted ?" Kelvin answered before you could. You sigh. "Boo boo, you’re scared of hurting your little feet, my love ?" He teased.

You couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, but smiling still. Even if both of them acted like your big brothers, kelvin had always been the most teasing of the two, always trying to bicker with you on and off set. "You try walking in louboutin, in full fucking glam on a Thursday morning." You retorted, pointing towards the pretty pair of heels waiting for you under your chair. "I ain’t no Zendaya, so excuse me but these, are complete hell." Aaron looked at you with soft eyes, trying not to laugh at your antics. Each time you wouldn’t be happy with something, whether it be your outfit, the way you said a certain line, your makeup, you would pout. And here you were, starting to pout, like the childish person you were.

"C’mon, we’ll help you walk to the chair. It’s okay." The light skin man said, reaching for your heels and crouching down to put it on your pretty feet. That melted your heart, making you smile a bit. "I always knew mufasa was a better brother than taka." You said, clearly being petty. looking at Kelvin’s face, both aaron and you laughed at him. Then, with the help of Aaron’s hand you rose up to your feet, reaching out for Kelvin’s hand too and walked to the assigned chairs for the three of you.

"I know you did not say that though, you don’t mean that. Don’t let his pretty light skin face fool you." said kelvin, looking at aaron and you.

"Ay, you know better !" said aaron.

"you’re lucky you look incredibly beautiful, ❁. And you smell expensive. Damn, what’s your perfu…"

@ melosliving 2025

[callfordyke]

just opened the hurt christopher diaz tag on ao3 and some of the takes about eddie as a father were so wrong i immediately had to leave

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what kind of underwear do you think Erik and Charles wear (i'm not asking this to see them half naked) ((please believe me)) (((PLEASE)))

My Personal Belief is charles is a briefs guy while erik's a trunks guy. trunks/briefs kinda couple because i can

and idk just a lil bonus or somethin. as i do.

[gingermintpepper]

Okay, let's finally talk about EPIC's Apollo

I feel very compelled to say, first of all, that I do not dislike Epic. In fact, I am very fond of Epic and have been following its production and status very eagerly! I attend all the launch streams, I watch all of Herrans' update videos; I am, at the end of the day, a fan and I want it to be known that my words are spoken out of love and passion as much as they are spoken from a place of critique.

So really, what my problem with Epic's Apollo?

In the briefest possible terms; the choice to have Apollo be defined by his musical aspect in God Games is thematically strange. And not in the 'oh well in the Odyssey, Apollo was important to Odysseus and his family so it's weird that that wasn't kept in Epic' strange, strange in the sense that Odysseus' character arc since My Goodbye has been getting more and more obviously Apollonian and so it is positively bizarre that when we get to meet Apollo, the god seems entirely disinterested in him and his affairs. So much so that he is not even defined by any station that would indicate that he has been watching over and protecting Odysseus and his family.

What do I mean by 'Odysseus has been following an Apollonian arc'? I'm so glad you asked!

Remember Them is the last song in which Odysseus explicitly uses his sword until Mutiny where he must use it to defend himself against Eurylochus' blade. He uses it to help enact the plan to conquer Polyphemus and, due to Polites dying in that battle, Polites who wished for Odysseus to put the blade down entirely and embrace a post-war life, Odysseus also retires his sword. This is an action that symbolically separates him from Athena - and the image of Odysseus as a traditional warrior set for him in Horse and Infant - as much as My Goodbye physically separates him from the goddess and her war-ways - from this point onwards, Odysseus will no longer be leaning on Athena's wisdom or methods to solve his problems. Likewise, he will no longer be able to rely on her protection.

Odysseus thusly solves most of his upcoming problems through diplomacy and avoidance. He approaches Aeolus - a strange and ambiguous god (both in gender and in motivation) and appeals to them for help. Circe too, he approaches not with wishes to conquer or for revenge, but for the safe returning of his men and an alternate way forward. In all of these scenarios, there is some Apollonian element which is subtly interweaved alongside the influence of other gods; it is with a bow and arrows that Polyphemus' sheep is slain (and thus it is this Apollonian element which is at the root of Odysseus' spat with Poseidon), it is a vision of Penelope that warns Odysseus that his men are about to open Aeolus' wind-bag, Circe's peace offering to Odysseus is to refer him to a prophet of Apollo who has since died.

In this way, Apollo is walking alongside Odysseus for all of his journey after Athena departs - even in the Underworld, he is guiding him. It is Tiresias' proclamation that is the last straw for Odysseus, it is by the power of a mouthpiece of Apollo that Odysseus decides to embrace his ruthlessness. It is with the bow and arrow that Odysseus subdues the siren who sought to trick him, likewise, Odysseus does not attempt to undermine or escape the fate of paying Scylla's passage price - he knows of the doom about to befall the six men and quite unlike the rest of the journey until this point, he does not fight against it. This all comes to a head on Thrinacia where it is a blade which sacrifices the sun god's cow and brings destruction upon the crew once more.

My point with all of this is that when I heard the teasers for God Games years ago, it made perfect sense to me that Apollo would be Round One - he is not Odysseus' adversary and has no reason to oppose Athena's wish to free him. From other teasers about what will happen in the climax of Epic, Apollo will still be walking alongside Odysseus - it is Apollo's bow that Penelope will give the suitors to string. Likewise, it is Apollo's bow that will prove Odysseus' legitimacy and identity. That bow will be the power by which Odysseus hunts his adversaries and cleans out his palace - it is Apollo who is the avatar of Odysseus' ruthlessness, not Athena.

So tell me, truly, what was the point of having Apollo raise a non-argument in God Games? Why have him appear unconcerned, aloof and slightly oblivious? Why have him appear in his capacity as the Lord of Music at all?? And if the intention was never to make Apollo an active player in Odysseus' life like he was in the Odyssey, why keep Odysseus as a primary archer?

The answer of course is that Apollo is inextricable from the fabric of the Odyssey - his influence and favour exudes from Odysseus just as much as Athena's. In Athena's ten year sulk, it would have been Apollo who kept Telemachus and Penelope safe. It would have been Apollo protecting Odysseus from Poseidon's gaze as he travelled the seas (according to the Odyssey anyway)

Forgive me for not being excited about something that I thought was being purposefully set up. I was extremely ecstatic about all of the little Apollonian details that litter the sagas because I know where this story ends up (loosely) but all God Games did was reveal that maybe those Apollonian details were not intentional at all, but merely the ghost of the Apollo who persistently haunts those he favours, even if he cannot explicitly come to their aide in an adaptation.

[simcardiac-arrested]

wait, that elias?

[doyelikehaggis]

7 Days of Scarepairs: Sciles | Scott McCall x Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf) + “Grief”

Requested by @joanthangroff (TW mention of suicide attempt)

It was a long ride back from the motel. At least, it felt longer. Stiles' gaze burning holes in the side of his face wasn't making it go any faster, either. Scott could see his bouncing leg, hear his racing heart and smell the anxiety radiating off of him. Even if he were oblivious to all of that, he would still know something was wrong with him.

"Stiles," he said wearily, looking at him properly for the first time since Coach snatched his whistle back off of Lydia and told them to sit down. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. All good."

The way he glanced at him said otherwise. Scott raised his eyebrows pointedly and the leg bouncing stopped. Stiles ran a hand over his thigh and nodded jerkily as if reiterating that he was fine.

"Look, we're gonna figure this out, okay?" Scott assured him as best he could. "From what Ethan said, there's a good chance that Derek is alive. Once we get back to Beacon Hills, we can find him, and we can make a better plan. No one else is going to get hurt."

He just managed to bite back a promise. He knew he couldn't. He only hoped that it was the truth.

But Stiles stared at him like he could see right through him, his eyes narrowing. He parted his lips like he was going to retort, as he usually would, but instead, he just shook his head and turned to face the back of the seat in front of him. As he ran a hand over his face, Scott frowned.

"You're angry," he blurted out.

Stiles shook his head again and sighed. "No. No, Scotty, I'm not angry." His heart skipped but he acted like Scott couldn't hear it. "I'm just... I'm tired. Last night was..."

"I know," Scott said softly. His own heart skipped. "But the darach's not going to catch us by surprise like that again."

Stiles nodded, but he didn't say anything else. In fact, he didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride. Scott wanted to, but something stopped him. He took to staring out the window and letting his eyes unfocus as he repeated his plan to find Derek in his mind the whole way home.

*

The bus dropped them off at the school. Stiles insisted on driving Scott home, even though he had his bike. He didn't put up a fight - he just wanted to go home and see his mom before he did anything else. That phone call back at the motel had felt too real. He just needed to see her.

Of course, she was at work. Scott sighed when he found the note on the fridge, but he told himself not to overthink it. She was fine.

"Alright, well, I think we should go to Derek's loft first," he said, turning to Stiles who was lingering by the back door, his arms folded. "He'd most likely have gone back there to try and heal."

He frowned.

"Although, if the alpha pack are looking for him, that might be too obvious. Maybe we should try the animal clinic first. He could've gone to Deaton, right?"

He waited for Stiles to agree with him or suggest something he hadn't thought of because right then, all Scott had was a handful of guesses and maybes.

But Stiles didn't chime in. He shrugged when he realized Scott was looking at him.

"Stiles, are you sure you're okay?" he asked gently.

Stiles dragged a hand over his face and sighed again, his tongue in his cheek, and he could smell the irritation on him, just like when they were on the bus.

"You know what? No," he snapped, throwing his hand up. "No, Scott, I'm not okay, and, quite frankly, neither are you, and I don't get why we're just pretending that last night never happened. Because it did."

"Do you mean..." Scott couldn't quite get the words out, his throat closing up around them and forcing them back down. He shifted his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment. "The wolfsbane?"

"Yeah, I'm talking about the wolfsbane," Stiles said, his voice thick with emotion he was failing to contain. "More specifically, what the wolfsbane did to you, Scott."

Scott shook his head, his eyebrows drawing together as he tried to ignore the sick feeling weighing down on him. "It was just... you saw what it did to all of us. Ethan-"

"Tried to saw himself open, yeah," Stiles cut him off. "Probably something to do with his freakish ability to combine into one even more freakish mutation with Aiden. Isaac - he was hiding under his bed. Boyd and Lydia were hearing things. But you, Scott..."

He took a step toward him, and Scott watched his feet, observing every little detail of his shoes and the kitchen floor.

"Scott, you tried to kill yourself."

"It was just..."

"No. No, Scott, the wolfsbane brought out all of your biggest fears and just - just heightened your true emotions. Boyd's guilt about his sister, Isaac's fear of his dad, Lydia always being the one to find dead bodies. It wasn't the wolfsbane talking when you did that. Was it?"

Scott knew he had to give him an answer. He just didn't think either of them really wanted to hear it. The truth hung in the air between them, as suffocating as the gasoline that still clung to Scott's senses.

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly, then looked up to meet Stiles' disbelieving stare. "We need to find Derek. We can't waste any more time, we need-"

"Scott, stop! Can you even - you nearly died! Twice!"

"But I didn't-"

"Because someone stopped you! Allison literally had to sew you back together because you felt so guilty about Derek being dead that you were going to let yourself die, too! Scott, I had to talk you out of setting yourself on fire, how can you not - how do you not see how messed up that is?!"

"Stiles, I'm sorry about last night, okay? I shouldn't have... I should've fought the wolfsbane, or..."

Stiles just stared back at him, shaking his head incredulously. Finally, in a much softer voice, he said, "Scott, I don't want you to be sorry that I had to save you. I just... I just wanna know that you don't actually believe what you said last night."

It was a simple request. It would take just two words. And yet...

Scott opened his mouth. Then he shook his head and closed it again, looking away with a piercing pain where his healed wound was just yesterday.

"You have to admit that a lot of what we've gone through wouldn't have happened if I hadn't..."

"Hadn't what?" He looked back up to see the reason for the quiver in Stiles' voice; tears shone in his wide eyes. "Hadn't survived being bitten by Peter? That's what you meant, wasn't it?"

He tilted his head but he didn't get a chance to deny or confirm. Stiles already knew. He looked like he might crumble into a million pieces.

"Scott," he said, his voice cracking as he moved closer. "I don't care what's happened to us. I don't care about the murderous werewolves or - or the hunters, or any of the crazy supernatural things that keep happening around us, alright? Because we've survived it, but what I wouldn't have survived was losing my best friend."

Scott bit his tongue, his eyes stinging. Part of him wanted to point out all the bad things - the numerous times he's put his life in danger, the people who haven't survived the craziness of their world, and everything else.

Then Stiles really did crumble. "Scott, I meant what I said last night. And I can't lose you. I can't - you and my dad, you're all... you're all I've got, and I can't - Scotty, I can't lose you as well. I need you. And I know how selfish that is, but it's true. So, if you need a reason to - to believe that you should be alive, then there it is. Me, Scott. Make me your reason if you have to, or your mom, or even Allison, because I promise you that none of us would be better off if you weren't here."

"You'd be safe, at least."

He didn't mean to say it. It just slipped out.

"You don't know that," Stiles countered, then he shrugged. "And even if that was true - I don't care. Scott, I'd rather be in danger every day of my life from some supernatural threat than live without you."

He didn't know what to say to that. All he could do was surge forward and hug him. Stiles immediately wrapped his arms tight around him, as if he never intended to let go.

"I'm sorry," he repeated quietly into his shoulder.

"Just make me a promise, Scotty. Alright? Promise that you'll talk to me, so that, when you start blaming yourself for every bad thing that's ever happened, I can tell you what an idiot you are."

Scott chuckled and nodded. "I promise." Then, he softly added: "I mean it."

Stiles tightened his arms just a little more. Both of them savoured the feeling of the other against them. Solid. Real. Alive. Safe. For a moment, they were as physically intertwined as they were in every other way.

Scott knew they should look for Derek. They should come up with a plan to stop the darach. But he wasn't ready to let go of the first real feeling of comfort he'd felt in a while.

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'