#nick went so hard on this track

[righthandarm-man]

i’m not that terrible you know i’m just somewhere you aim your throw you speak in letters, not in words don’t think you know how much it hurts

[captivating-flavors]

maybe | sylus

pairing: sylus x non mc assassin!reader

prompt: -

summary: maybe it was not as one-sided as you thought it was.

words: 2,441

warning(s): period, hurt/comfort

a/n: thats the longest ive ever written ever in my entire life. inspired by period and this. enjoy?? reblogs, comments and feedbacks are much appreciated <3

masterlist

There was a high-grade protocore that had been stolen en route to the Onychinus base a few days ago. You managed to track it down and found that the theft had been arranged by one of the auction houses and that it was going to be auctioned off tomorrow night. Therefore, you had to go in and retrieve the protocore tonight.

To say it was complicated was an understatement, since apparently the auction house took liberty to strengthen their security system and increase the number of guards on standby ever since the stolen protocore landed in their warehouse, but using your inconspicuousness evol, you managed to avoid detection until the moment you lifted the protocore and the alarms started blaring. Which had alerted the guards to storm the warehouse.

Going on missions whilst being on your period was a normal thing but one thing you didn’t see coming was the excruciatingly painful period cramp that hit you mid-fight, despite you already taking painkillers for it earlier.

“Oh god. Talk about bad timing.” You groaned to yourself as you knocked the last one of the guards, who had nicked your side with the tip of his knife, with the butt of your empty gun.

You could still hear a swam of footsteps coming from outside the warehouse. More guards were coming. On a normal day, you would’ve been able to take them out but today, you could no longer stand upright due to the pain of the cramps, so you opted to use your evol to sneak away and drove–more like speed off on– your bike straight to base instead.

You had no idea how you even managed to drive yourself to base but you managed and upon arriving at the base, you were almost doubled over due to the pain, as you had your arm to your stomach whilst having your hand still clutching on to the protocore. You used your free hand to support yourself against the wall as you walked to Sylus’ office, with great effort.

“What’s up, Bossman?” You were trying to be casual with your tone, but you were sweating and breathing heavily due to the fight and pain, mostly the pain. “Guess what? Mission accomp–”

And everything went black.

-

“Y/N!” Sylus shouted as he ran towards your body, which fell to the ground with a hard thud, the protocore falling out of your grasp and rolling away to some corner.

The first thing he noticed as he cradled your upper body was how pale you were. It was like blood had rushed away from your body. The second thing he noticed were the blood stains on your clothes.

“Luke! Kieran!”

The twins rushed over to the office upon hearing his shout, “Yes, Boss.”

“Get the doctor. Now!” Sylus said as he picked you up from the ground and left the office to lie you down on his bed.

A million different thoughts swirled in his brain. What poison was it? Where can he find the antidote? Was it deadly? Why else would you collapse like that? You���ve had stab wounds, broken bones and gunshot wounds before, and it never made you collapse the way you just did. Worst of all, was he going to lose you?

“I heard you called for me, Mr. Sylus.” The doctor said as she entered the room.

“Help her.”

“May I ask what happened?”

“She came back from a mission and passed out. I think she’s been poisoned.”

The doctor moved to your side and started to examine you. She gently pressed her finger on to the skin under your eye before slightly dragging it downward, noting that you had a pale conjunctiva, surmising that you must’ve been bleeding somewhere. The doctor started by cutting you out of the blood-soaked fabric before proceeding to disinfect and bandage the cut on your side with a waterproof bandage.

Sylus could only watch as you lay unconscious on his bed. He wanted to do something to quench the gnawing worry eating at him. The fact that there was nothing he could do to get you to wake up sooner ate at him as he was forced to stand and watch as the doctor further examined your body for more injuries. The more time passes, the angrier he got, and he swore that once he found out who did this to you–his precious girl–he would make them pay.

“I–uh… I don’t think it’s poison, sir.”

“Why has she passed out, then?” Sylus snapped, failing to keep his anger at bay.

“It seems to be because of her period.”

“Period?” Sylus stopped his pacing, confused.

“Yes, she came to me this morning for some painkillers for her cramps. She’d come to me several times before as well due to her heavy flow and cramps. But seeing as she’s still engaging in strenuous activities despite both might’ve caused her to collapse.”

Sylus stayed silent, which prompted the doctor to continue, “I will be prescribing her usual painkillers and some iron supplements as well this time, since it appears to me that she is also anemic. Please make sure that she takes them after her meal and that she stays away from strenuous physical activities for the time being.”

“How long is she going to be out for?”

“She should be up in about half an hour.”

“Is there anything else that could help her with the pain?”

“You could use a heat pad on her abdomen area, that should help ease the pain.”

Sylus nodded, “Alright. Thank you.”

The doctor placed the bag of medication on the bedside table before bowing and leaving the room, leaving Sylus to wait for you to regain consciousness by the chair he had pulled on to the space beside his bed.

-

You opened your eyes to a familiar yet unfamiliar scene. You’d been here before, but this was most definitely not your room.

“Where am I?” Your mind foggy and your own voice sounded groggy and scratchy as you attempted to get up, wincing at the sharp pain on your side.

Sylus stopped you from getting up, “You’re in my bedroom, Sweetie.”

“What… What happened?”

“You passed out on me.”

“Sorry about that.” You let out a small cough, propping yourself up against the headboard before continuing, “But I managed to secure the goods, didn’t I?”

Sylus walked over to the table in front of the couch to pour a glass of water before handing it over to you. “Thanks.” You said, before dunking the contents of the glass.

There was a short pause as he watched you, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve sent someone else instead.”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were in pain because of the cramps.”

“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal? You passed out. You–” His increasing tone had you looking up at him, it was not like him to show such… concern? He had to clench his fists to stop himself from raising his voice because he knows that’s not the first thing you need upon waking up before continuing, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

 “Well, you didn’t. It would take a lot more than that to take me out.” You chuckled softly averting your gaze from his, still puzzled by the emotion so clearly displayed on his red orbs.

“I know. You’re a big girl.”

“But it would be a shame if that took me out, wouldn’t it? You know for a fact that no one can finish these missions as efficiently as I can.” You let out a smile as you said it.

Sylus sighed, “That’s not what I meant, Kitten.”

You were about to respond but instead let out a curse as you felt your cramps coming back. “Shit.”

“Here. The doctor said a heat pad would help.” He said as he handed a heat pad over to you.

You were still puzzled, but you took it and put it over the lower part of your stomach, “Thanks.” The heat pad did make your cramps feel slightly more manageable.

Sylus looked at you for a second and got up to go into the bathroom. You then heard the sound of water running and the sounds of Sylus rummaging through something. After about ten minutes, he walked out of the bathroom and stood by the bedside.

“C’mon let’s get you cleaned up first.” Sylus said as he tried to pick you up.

You held your hand out to stop him, “Whoa. I can walk myself.” You tried to stand on your own but staggered, clearly underestimating the pain you would feel as you stood.

He reached out but you rejected his help yet again, “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean you’re not in pain, Y/N. Let me help you.” He said as he reached an arm behind you to keep you steady and added, “Please.” Gentleness and desperation(?) laced in his voice.

“Okay.” You eventually relented and let him carry you into the bathroom.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to help you. It’s just that you didn’t want his actions to water any seeds of delusion that you have about how your relationship could be something more.

Sylus put you on your feet in front of the bathtub before turning around to let you get out of your clothes. You quipped, “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

“I’m being respectful, Kitten.”

You shut off the water and tested it with your hands, suds sticking to your wet palm. You got into the tub and said, “You can turn around now.”

Sylus then walked over to the tub and knelt beside it, watching you as his arm rested on the edge of the tub. You felt uncomfortable under his gaze. It was too… warm and tender.

“Quit looking at me like that.” You grumbled, splashing some of the water onto his rolled-up sleeves.

“Like what?” The warmth in his gaze now had hints of mirth within it as he smirked.

“Like I’m some wounded stray you picked up off the street.”

He laughed, the sound deep, rich and velvety. “Oh, Sweetie, you’re so much more than that.” His hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You coughed. The heat rushing to your cheeks and the pounding of your heart prompted you to change the subject, “Sorry about your sheets. I’ll clean it up later.”

“It’s fine, Kitten. I can handle it. I’ve handled much worse.”

The two of you stayed there in silence for a while. Usually, you would’ve come up with something witty to say but the warmth of the water felt too good on your aching stomach. Sylus was the one to break the silence, “I’ll get the chef to make you some food.” He then stood and added, “The towels, pads and change of clothes are over on the counter.”

He left you in the bathroom to your own devices, where you decided you would soak in the warmth a little bit longer. It felt nice to just relax for a bit, especially after the mission you’ve been on but you couldn’t help your thoughts that were starting to wander off to Sylus.

Several months ago was when you first realized that you were falling for him, but you knew you had to keep it under wraps since it has always been nothing more than something casual between the two of you. That had been the agreement, hadn’t it? No strings attached, just business. And pleasure, sometimes.

However, the warmth and tenderness in his gaze tonight was really… unfamiliar. He had always treated you well, of course, but tonight it felt as if he was being overly sweet and that unsettled you, as it gave you hope for something more. Could you, though? Could you ask for something more?

The coldness of the tub water brought you out of your thoughts. Guess you stayed in the tub longer than you thought. You got out of the tub and straight into the shower, before changing into the fresh set of clothes Sylus had prepared for you.

Sylus glanced up at you from the stack of papers as you walked out of the bathroom. “Come. Sit.”

You looked around the room to see that the sheets had been changed. You walked over towards the desk and sat on the chair opposite him; a plate of steak and a bowl of tomato soup was laid out in front of the stack of papers he was going through. “What…?”

“Eat. You’ll have to take your medicine.”

You ate in silence as he went through more of the paperwork on his desk. Eventually, he’d left you alone to shower. After you were done with the food, you took the meds as instructed on the packaging and you scrambled to gather your things.

“Where are you going?” Sylus’ voice startled you.

“To my place…?” The statement came out more like a question, because you yourself weren’t entirely sure. You weren’t exactly in the condition where you could manage the walk to your apartment three blocks away, but you’d never stayed the night before.

“It’s late. You should just stay the night.”

“…Is it okay for me to?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Sylus gave you a puzzled look as he got out of his towel and into his robe.

“I mean… I’ve never stayed the night… Even after,” You gestured between the two of you, “you know.”

“You’re always gone before I could ask you to stay, Kitten.”

His unwavering gaze and response got you speechless, “Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Just get on the bed and sleep, yeah?” He chuckled before turning the lights off.

“Wait, Sylus.”

“Yes, Sweetie.”

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything.” He replied as he walked over and laid down on to the other side of the bed.

You turned to look at him, “Will you hold me?”

“I wasn’t planning not to, Kitten. Turn over.” He said as he reached onto the bedside table to grab a heat pack. He pulled the sheets of over the both of you before resting his arm over your body, holding the heat pack against your abdomen.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sylus.”

You felt your eyes growing heavy by the minute. The warmth of his body pressed on to your back was all too comforting. One thought did swirl around your head before you fell asleep, though.

‘Maybe it’s not as one-sided as I thought it was.’

[wishingway]

First Touch

König x Civvie!Reader

CW: Death, pleasuredom!könig, man EATS, dubcon breeding, suggestion of plot?? barely?

Wordcount: 6.1k

Divider credit: cafekitsune

The first time König touched you was when he pulled your trembling body into his arms. Your legs were weak and no longer able to hold you up, so you fell into him and he caught you. You were covered in dirt and gore, some of it fresh, still trickling down your skin, other bits dried and matted into your clothes. Some of the blood was your own, some wasn't. At this point you didn’t care - all you cared about was the mountainous man standing in front of you, his arms hooked under yours as he pulled you free from your captor's embrace. 

____

It had happened quickly, you weren’t quite sure exactly how it came to be that you were being restrained by a masked man with a glinting knife held to your throat. He pulled you backwards, further into the room while you watched your coworker-  your friend- bleeding out on the floor by the door. The two of you had plans for that evening. After work, the pair of you were going to grab a bite to eat at the bistro down the street, then get your nails done. It was a soft ritual the two of you had started the month after you first started working here, and now your standing bi-wednesday plans were never going to happen again.

You had tried to pull yourself free when the man- the terrorist- first took hold of you. It didn’t matter. No matter how hard you had tried to claw at his forearm, or kick at his knees, you had little effect. He swore at you, then pressed the knife tighter against the delicate skin of your neck. Your mind went haywire at that point, thoughts rushing as you tried to figure out a plan of escape in panic. Maybe if you told him that there was a door down the hall that led to the stairwell, and from there he could head back to the ground floor and find the door to the alley. Bringing you along with him would be burdensome. The smart thing to do would be to let you go- or kill you.

You whimpered pathetically as you tried to build up the courage to do something. You didn’t want to die like this, having not tried anything at all. You squirmed in his grasp, but all he- the terrorist- did was press the knife further into your neck. The blade nicked skin this time, and you could feel warmth trickle down your clavicle.

All you felt that you could do  at this point is try your best to quell your violent trembling, focusing on regulating your breath. Your eyes shut themselves tight. It had been a while since you prayed, but at this moment you did —to anything and anyone you could think of— for a saviour or heavenly intervention.

Suddenly, the knife repositioned itself against your neck, digging even deeper into the laceration. Against your back you felt the rumbling vibration as the terrorist spoke. “I swear to fuck I will kill her if you come closer.” 

The pair of you shifted back a step.

Your eyes flew open to meet the terrifying visage of the answer to your prayers. A mountain of a man, so tall that he had to duck under the doorway approaches the pair of you. Clad in tactical gear and clearly built for war, he wasn’t police, but something more. Over his head he wore some sort of sack, black with eye holes cut into them and tear tracks bleached onto them. Any semblance of relief you should have felt at the sight of him was clouded by the fact that he was holding an assault rifle aimed straight at you.

The mountain was silent as he assessed the situation, stepping over your friend's corpse as he tread further into the room and closer to you and you assailant. You give up on trying to steady your breathing again, and let out a high pitched whine. Your eyes sought out the mountain’s, but you’re unable to see past the shadows cast by his mask. You hoped he saw how you pleaded for him. 

Time seemed so still at this moment. You felt the terrorist shift his hold on you again, anticipating needing to slit your throat and make a run for it. Your eyes shut themselves out of instinct, in preparation. Your body lent further into the man, desperate to get further away from his blade. He shuddered against you, and you heard a grunt, and then a gurgle. You kept your eyes shut, even as you felt rough fabric grazing against your front, a presence looming in front of you, and the arm wrapped around your torso loosening.

Only once the blade clattered against the floor did you muster the courage to take a peek.

You felt him before you saw him, strong arms curling under your arms and pulling you in closer to him. You hadn’t realised until your face was pressed into his vest, that your legs were bowing, too weak to hold you up. His smell engulfed you; sweat, gunpowder and a faint tinge of fabric softener helped keep you grounded. In his arms, you could finally let go.

When the mountain man finally carried you outside, to the staging area where paramedics and police officers stood waiting, he had an arm hooked under your knees and the other supporting your back. He was steady, and each step he took felt certain of itself. You knew he would not drop you.

The first time you held König, your touch was delicate. Your fingers barely reached around to hold his hand steady as you traced your number neatly onto his skin, careful to make sure each digit was eligible. This time, the both of you were skin to skin, his fingers laid ever so still and light against your wrist as you held him. You ignored the fact that you were still shaking, and blamed it on the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

___

The foil of the emergency shock blanket was giving you major sensory overload, especially on a day where everything was already overwhelming. You had been led to a bench outside of your office building — a calm place to sit while  EMTs, Police officers and press ran around and fussed. You were on full autopilot and in a daze, eyes darting from person to person as they neared you. Honestly speaking, you were barely paying them any mind, twisting and turning mid-conversation as you looked for The Mountain who had slipped out of sight once he set you down.

There’s a nurse who busied herself with cleaning and bandaging the cut on your neck. She shot glares as you shifted beneath her. You cleared your throat as you asked. “Did you see where the man who brought me out went?”

She looked like she hadn’t expected you to speak, she furrowed her brows in confusion before turning to look down the street. 

“Think he went down there, love.”  She responded with a nick of her head, apparently knowing exactly who it was you were talking about.

Once the nurse was done and had disappeared from your sight, you’re shaky as you get to your feet. You meandered down the street in the direction the nurse pointed out to you.

Spotting The Mountain was easy. He was in fact almost impossible to miss. He stood with his arms crossed speaking to a pair of men equally geared up as he was. The sun was beginning to set, and he was blocking out the light, casting deep shadows.

You wrapped the foil blanket tighter around your shoulders, and steeled yourself, reminding yourself to be courageous like he was. 

When you walk up to them, you can tell The Mountain's friends were trying to gauge you. They must not see anything threatening, because they offer him a nod and turn to leave before you manage to even squeak out a “Hello.”

The Mountain's gaze and attention was now fully on you, and it was hard to quell the heat on your cheeks and the bashfulness that bubbled in your stomach.

He didn’t say hello back.

“I didn’t thank you.” You started.

“There is no need for thank yous.” The Mountain's voice rumbled, and you realise that it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice. 

It’s not what you expected. Perhaps pitched a little higher than you’d thought, and you catch the lilt of an accent. Germanic, perhaps?

“But I want to thank you.” You insisted, bringing your hands forward to a clasp in front of you. You suddenly felt uncertain, silly for engaging.

Silence enveloped the two of you. He looked down at you, and you up at him as the quiet suffocated you. Your cheeks were burning hot now. In this moment, you realised that you cannot see any feature of his. Even his eyes were shrouded in the shadows cast by the sack over his head.

You broke.

“Thank you!” You rushed out, not able to keep up with whatever game this was. You casted your gaze down to your feet and frowned deeply when you spot specks of blood on your shoes. “I imagine this is just another day on the job for you, but I’m going to think about you for the rest of my life.”

He stayed silent. 

“I don’t want to keep you fr-” You started,”

“What is your name?” The mountain asked, finally breaking his silence. You looked up at him in surprise, stunned and only able to offer him a shy smile and your name.

“What is yours?”

“König,” Your Mountain replied.

You felt adrenaline start to rush through your veins again, and eagerly forced the question out before you could overthink it. 

“Can I buy you a drink, König?”

You couldn’t tell what he thought of your proposition, his mask again shrouding any semblance of reaction. König tilted his head, perhaps in consideration?

“I am leaving in a few hours,” He responded. You furrow your brows, not understanding what he meant. “Our base is outside of the country.”

He gestured around them, at him and his comrades.

You weren’t quick enough to hide how your smile drops in disappointment. “Oh… I see.”

There was a pang in your heart. You had an opportunity and now it was lost, this man was slipping through your fingers.

There was another moment of silence as the both of you stood, not sure how to continue forward.

“Do you have a pen?” You asked.

He paused before a large hand lowered to one of the pockets in his cargo pants. He unzipped it swiftly and procured a pen and extended it for you to take. You took the pen, and the ungloved hand that held it out for you.

He let out a small noise in surprise, and you’re delighted at how cute you find it. You found that his fingers were warm as you pulled it in closer to you. His fingers rested on your wrist and halfway down your forearm. You pulled the cap off with your teeth and got to work scribbling your number down on the back of his hand.

“Maybe when you’re back in town, you’ll let me know?” You told him with a smile on your face.

“Okay, Kleine.” He responded, and you could hear the growing smile and soft rumble of a laugh in his voice.

Your fingers lingered on his hand, nails grazing his palm lightly. When released, his arm fell loosely to his side.

You paid attention to the distinct longing to pick his hand up again. The hand of a man you didn’t know, whose face you had yet to see.

You offered the pen back to him, but his shrouded hood shook from side to side.

“You keep it, Kleine.” He rumbled.

At the police station, hours later, when urged to sign your witness statement, you took a closer look at the pen gifted to you by König — your mountain, and traced your finger over the KORTAC branding on the cap. 

The second time König touched you was months later. His hands lingered at the small of your back. Fingertips barely grazed you, clearly unsure whether or not he could touch you. He treated you with care, like you were delicate, because you were. König was rough edges, gun powder, sweat, musk and generic fabric softener, whereas you were warmth, a fresh breeze, sunshine and strudel fresh from the oven.

___

König called you and told you he would be back in town for a couple days, waiting for some sort of KORTAC business to sort itself out. Honestly speaking, you didn’t care for the details. You knew you would never be a part of his world. PMCs, deployments and tactical operations we’re above you. All you cared for was that soon König would be back.

When he paused on the other side of the phone, unsure of what to say next, you took your chance to finally ask him again.

“Can I take you out for a drink, König?” you giggled.

Somehow you can feel his smile on the other side.

“Okay Kleine.”

You typically wouldn’t give a man you’ve barely had a proper conversation with your address. Maybe it’s dumb that you give König yours — but when you opened the door and saw him for time, you couldn’t care less.

It took you a few seconds to put two and two together; that the giant man out in your hall was in fact Your Mountain. Your saviour.

Your eyes scanned over his unmasked face and you felt your heart stutter. Despite the scars and lines — fine and not so fine. The crooked nose and eyes that darted from side to side as he took in his surroundings. He was attractive… handsome… and he holds up a bunch of tulips.

He stood in your entryway and filled out the space with his legs and shoulders. He fiddles around with his jeans (they have a normal amount of pockets) and pats down his button up. You made sure to ignore how broad the shirt made his chest look and instead focused on vasing your flowers and setting them aside.

Your favourite bar pub was a short 20 minute walk away, and it was more crowded than usual. A cheshire grin widened as you felt his large, ungloved palm on your back, warmth radiated from the point where it lingers at the small of your back. 

You led him through the masses to a booth further inside. It wasn't until you both were sitting across from one another — a cocktail in your hand, and a beer in his — knees knocking under the table, that you realised that he was staring at you and that you could see it. His blue eyes were distinct, even in the dim lights.

“I’m so happy that I finally get the chance to thank you properly,” You confessed to him, voice breathy as you brought your straw to your lips so you can take a sip.

“You thank me with every heartbeat, Kleine.” He tilted his head to the side again, it reminded you of a puppy. His gaze wandered down to your neck, no longer bandaged. “When you keep your blood inside.”

You liked the lilt of his accent.

You brought your hand up, fingers gently prodded at the faint scar left by a knife so many months ago. It didn’t hurt anymore. Hell, you barely even thought about it anymore. Whenever you reflected on that day, your mind went to your friend, the carnage, the deep unrest your soul hadn’t yet been able to let go of, and König.

“You still called me though,” you offered him a wry smile, and watched as his eyes flickered back up to your lips. You felt your heart flutter again when he answered you with a smile of his own.

“Yes… I did.”

___

You didn’t let go of each other after that. His hands were pressed flat against your back when he led you back out of the bar, no longer uncertain if it was unwelcome. Once outside, when the evening air was cool around you, you wrapped your arm around one of his. Your fingers raced over the contours of his muscles, and the pair of you definitely picked up the pace on the walk back.

His hands idled on your hips as he took up post behind you. You fumbled with your keys, and you tried your best to slot them into your door and to keep your hands steady.

When you finally managed to get the door open, your fingers wrapped around his wrist and dragged him over the threshold after you. Your fingers slid down, moving to interlace themselves with his. As the door finally closed behind you, he leant down so your lips could finally slot against his in a sweet kiss.

This kiss, the first kiss, was short and chaste. Warm lips pressed into one another for only a moment before Your Mountain pulled away from you. You hadn’t noticed that your arms had somehow found their way up his arms and had wrapped themselves around his  shoulders. You let them slide down again, and pressed your palms lightly into his forearms. When he looked at you, his blue eyes were darker, and you could hear him breathing. You felt how his chest rose and fell with each inhale and exhale.

König licked his lips, his eyes drifted down to yours, then back up to your eyes again. He was asking for permission. You offered a minute nod and it’s all he needed.

His kisses are insistent, hot and all consuming. He pulled your body in impossibly closer and lifted a hand to cradle your cheek. Reality swirled around you, and you basked in his all-consuming warmth. Your hands slid up his arms again, then down his chest. You pressed against his pecs, pushing him further into your apartment, towards your bedroom.

In the bedroom, you pushed him backwards onto your bed, and bit your lip as you watched him bounce and settle on your mattress. His gaze on you was hot, sharp and so blue. Predatory. If you waited too long, he would pounce on you.

You were quick to pull your top off, leaving you in a bra and your jeans. You tossed the fabric to the side and lifted to plant your knee on the bed. You crawled over to him. His hands, warm and so large, found their place on your waist. He hauled you in, closer to him, then flipped the pair of you over so that you were under him and he could settle between your legs.

Finally, his lips were on yours again. He snuck his tongue into your mouth after teasing the seam of your lips. He kissed you savagely and it made you feel like you knew him. He bit your lip gently, canine digging into the flesh of your bottom lip. You whined into his mouth, and he just ate it up, welcomed every noise you made, every gasp for breath you took. It felt good, addicting.

A hand pulled your hair to the side, and exposed your neck to him. König leaned down to where the raised skin of your scar was and pressed his lips to it. You hummed, hands drifting over his back. You left yourself open to his ministrations. Then he bit and sucked, leaving marks that bloomed like flowers on your skin. You felt like you were suffocating under him in the best way.

His hand brushed some of your hair out of your face so his can whisper into your skin.

“I want to make you cum.” His voice was so gravelly. 

His hand slid down your body, under the waist of your jeans and cupped your pussy. Your panties were wet, sticking to your skin and he could feel it. He mouth nipped at your cheeks and his chest rumbled. Soft and primal.

“Scheiße, please let me Kleine.” He murmured, resting his forehead against your temple. 

Your chest heaved and you were unable to answer, because the man was rubbing mindless circles on your clit, over your panties.

These gentle circles ignited the match, sparked the flame of arousal that had been bubbling in your belly.

You rolled your hips and groaned openly, oh so eager for more of his touch. Your hands carded into his hair as you gave him a loose smile. “I’m the one supposed to be thanking you.”

He chuckled, nuzzling into your hair and then pressed a kiss to the pressure point under your earlobe.

“Then you will give me this, yes?” 

He lathed your neck in messy kisses, fingers sped up against your clothed clit and all you could do was keen.

You sunk into the sheets, into the feeling of him. “Yes, König. Please.”

He grins against your skin, victorious.

He pulled off of you finally, and you fought  back the whine as his smell dissipated. His hands are on the buttons of your jeans. Fumbling with them in his eagerness as he unbuttoned, unzipped and then freed you from the restrictive denim. He teared them off your legs and your brain short circuited when you felt how cool the air was against your cunt.

 Your brain was hazed over and his touch was burning through your clothes but it was nothing compared to the way his breath felt on your clothed pussy. When he finally found his place between your legs, he discovered just how  wet you had gotten for him, embarrassingly so. When König slipped his fingers into the sides of your panties to peel them away, you felt like you could almost hear the wetness. He hooked two strong fingers from the top and started to pull them down, then off your feet. 

He looked so vast and immense when he sat back on his haunches, taking in the sight of you laying back against your pillows in just your bra. 

“Take your shirt off… please.” Your voice was so deep with want, your eagerness dripped off each word and you were more than pleased with yourself when you watched as he acquiesced to your wishes. 

Hands made  quick work of each button revealing more and more of his chest to you, dusted in hair that you wanted to run your hands through. 

The shit eating grin on his face grew as he shrugs the shirt off and you in turn opened your legs for him, beckoning him forward.

“You need me, Kleine?”

“I do.”

“What do you say?” The lilt in his voice was teasing, and SO frustrating.

“Please…”

“Please who?” He crawled back over to you, hands sliding up your legs and hooking under your knees.

“Please König.” You whined. He pushed your knees up, and you gasped when they met your chest and your leaky pussy was exposed to him.

“Not quite Kleine.” He rumbled, content with not moving an inch, happy enough to hold you exposed for him. 

You squirmed, and whined, desperate for something, anything.

“Repeat after me, lieb. Please… Sir.” His eyes bored into yours, and you couldn’t help but feel hypnotised as you swallowed.

“Please sir.”

“Hmmm Good girl. Now, let me hear how thankful you are.” He kissed and licked over your lips when he finally tasted you. His moans sounded obscene, joined with your high-pitched keening as he got to work.

König’s tongue was skilled. It worked fast, flicking rapidly over your needy clit, up and down. His tongue was constant and wet with his spit and your slick. It was so filthy the way his tongue on your sweet spot made your pussy just gush. 

 He sucked gently whenever his tongue and jaw needed a break, little pulses and slurping suction stimulated you, before he went right back to lapping at your sensitive little bud. At a few points he dipped down to lick at your entrance, and placed wet kisses to your abused clit. His tongue licked lightly before his lips wrapped around it. You jolted, but his strong arms held you down.

 You’re braced on your arms and looking down at him, watching him make you come apart at the seams.

Your head and eyes rolled back, and you made the effort to spread your legs even farther, opening yourself as much as you could for him. 

 “Fuck, I’m already close,” you cried out, high pitched and airy. 

You brought a hand down to  brush some of his hair out of his face, and saw König smile a little, smug as he puffed out a soft laugh. His breath is hot on you. His fingers took over, swiping over your seam, spreading your juices and his spit.

 “You want to  cum for me, Kleine?” he purred against your cunt. The sight of him was too much.

 Your brows were pinched together in pleasure and you nodded eagerly

“Please don’t stop, sir” you whispered.

 His eyes closed as he drowned in you. He pressed his face up against your mons as he licked your clit from an angle that was so precise and so perfect that your legs started to shake. The hand you have in his hair tightened and you pulled him into place, keeping him close as you mewled nonsense.

 “Gonna cum, König oh my god-” Your lips fell open and your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Right when you were on the crest of pleasure, so good it hurt, he replaced his tongue with two of his fingers so he could watch you as you fell apart for him. He saw the way you were about to protest at the loss of his mouth but your body tensed and your back arched off of the bench. His fingers toyed with you just right to make the rush hit you before you could even think to complain. 

 “Scheiße, look at you Kleine. Pretty.” he murmured.

 His eyes were trained on your pussy, the way it clenched and contracted. He spread your lips as wide as he could so he could have a front row view of your cunt pulsing around nothing, and dripping. His fingers slowed on your clit when you started to come down

Slow was still mind bogglingly overwhelming though, especially when you had just cum. It’s not long before your hands were reaching between your legs and gripping at his wrist.

 “Too much,” you cried out.

 He cooed, gently pulled at your inner lips and opened up your puffy little cunt. 

“Your pussy is still pulsing Lieb.” he sounded proud, voice deep and drunk on lust. “Did I make you cum that hard?”

 You were still trying to catch your breath as you looked down your body at him. He looked so effortlessly confident with a cocky smile plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn't contain the wide smile on your face.

König was crawling back over you, ducking his head down, his lips grazed your skin. He hiked one of your legs up around his waist, when your lips met once again, messy with excess tongue, spit and the taste of you.

 You wrapped your arms around his back, and he shivered when you ran your nails over his shoulder blades, Your fingertips felt goosebumps make a short appearance. 

When he rolled his hips into your pussy, you gasped. He inhaled it, breathing in your pleasure. It made him throb, hard and hot against you. 

“König, I want to feel you inside me.” You exhaled as you pressed your soaked pussy into his clothed cock.

 He groaned into the kiss he pressed into your lips. He rutted harder into you, bringing a hand down between your bodies so he could free his cock from his jeans. He pulled it out, gripping the base of his cock so that he can rub the tip against your clit. 

He groaned when his cockhead felt how wet you were with your slick. He tsked, scolded you playfully.

“So messy, mein Liebling.” He was smiling when he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit into it lightly, and swirled his tip against your clit. You squirmed in his grasp, keening for more.

He pushed the head in before hissing and pulling back out. 

He repeated a few times, teasing himself with your cunt. He gave you time to adjust while he spat into his hand, slicked himself up, rubbed himself against your pussy. You gasped when his fingers grazed your clit. He gasped in turn when you spread your legs wider for him. You were so sweet and eager for him.

Finally, He hooked the leg around waist over his shoulder, braced some of his weight on your thigh,and hovered over you. His lips brushed yours lightly and you could feel him hiss against them when he sunk his hard cock into you.

 “So wet…” his voice rasped in pleasure, and exertion when he fucked into you with shallow thrusts. His movements were slow, but before long you were full to the brim and it was like you could feel him in your throat.

König continues on, he fucked you slow, with long, steady thrusts. 

“More,” you moaned, one of your hands had found themselves playing with your nipple under your bra. The other hand floated down to graze over his tensed abdomen.

He gripped the hand you have on his tummy and pushed it down so that it was at your pussy. 

“Play with yourself Leibling, I want to watch.” His voice was commanding, rough. 

You followed his instructions dutifully and brought your fingers down to your when he pistoned into you. You gathered your slick around his cock then rubbed your fingers over your clit.  You started with tiny circles, slow like his thrusts. It felt so good, good enough to stoke the feeling of simmering in your belly.

Your pussy tightened, squeezing around König. You made him groan into your ear.

You felt lightheaded. Your fingers started to work faster. Your Soft, airy moans met his grunts of exertion and his steady rumbling.

Before long,  your legs started to close on their own. The pleasure was becoming too much for you. Your breath started to come out short. Your chest rose and fell. Your brows furrowed with concentration as you worked your poor clit to get there. 

You let the most pitiful whine. You wanted nothing more than to cum with König inside you.

He’s grabbed your hand again, just as you feel yourself approaching the summit again, but this time he kept it in his grip, pulling it off your sore clit. “Not yet, Liebe.

He drew his cock out until just his swollen tip was still nestled inside before slamming back in one swift movement.

 It took your breath away, how overwhelming full you felt. Tears welled in your eyes. His hand dragged down your body until his thumb sneaked in between your folds, rubbing at your clit.

 You buckled, and your legs spread wider, your hands coming up to your free knee and pulling it back.

you whined and gripped at his forearm. His muscles were taut, holding himself up, Your nails dug into his flesh and he moaned, head rolling back, hips snapping forward faster like he was starting to lose control. 

The tip of his cock kissed places inside of you that make your head feel  fuzzy. his girth stretched you out so well. You could feel every ridge of him against your pussy’s sensitive walls.

 “Wait-” you gasped, whiny and panicked. “Slow down König. I’m gonna cum-”

 “Don’t Kleine, hold it in.” he warned, moving the leg slung over his shoulder back to his waist. He slowed his thrusts a little, but he felt like being a bully. He brings his fingers back to your clit, rubbing like he wants you to cum, he knows you’re going to, despite his warnings.

 “Please,” you whimpered, both hands came down to grip at his wrist, “you need to stop or I’m gonna-” you turn your head, bury your face into his shoulder, hiding from him. 

Your body was so tense with the effort to listen. You wanted to be good for him, but straining against the high that’s quickly cornering you was fraying you at the edges.

 “Look at me, Liebling,” he breathed into your ear. He sounded so turned on and it was egging you on.

When you did look at him, he looked amused. 

“What are you going to do?”

 God, he sounded so smug.

 Your eyes were watery, as you tried so hard to keep the rush at bay. The sight of him, his commanding body, the condescending smirk that matched his teasing tone, it did you in. Your walls clenched around his cock and your clit was so sensitive and his touch was so good, you had no chance.

 “Gonna cum-” you cried out, leg shaking against the bed and around his waist. Your cunt contracted around him. Your walls pulsed so good around him as you creamed all over his cock. 

Your high pitched moans colored the air.

 König sighed, like this is exactly what he wanted, like forcing you into wringing your tight pussy around him was the most gratifying thing in the universe. 

He’s trying to keep from cumming himself, the clench of your hot, soaking pussy was almost too much for him, but he focused on you. The way that you’re bashfully hiding from him while simultaneously working your cunt over him makes something spark in his brain.

 His thrusts started to slow gradually, as did his fingers so that he doesn’t overstimulate you, wanting to only make you feel good for now.

 He tsked again, once you came down, body still trembling in his hold with pleasurable tremors. His cock was still throbbing inside of your pussy. 

“So naughty, Kleine.”

You giggled deliriously, soaking it — him— all in as you nodded, rolling your head so your empty eyes could look up into his blue ones again. “Yeah”

König started his thrusting again. His hips moved in a comfortable and steady motion. You can feel every inch of him move against you and it was unbearable.

 “You do not look sorry”

 “You made me, it’s your fault,” you gurgled.

You could tell by the way his hips started to stutter that he’s getting close to the end of his rope. His hands came up to grip and play with your tits, visual stimulation to get him there. His hips have lost their rhythm.

His eyes are closed, and his brows are furrowed. The more lost in you that he gets, the more you want his cum. His grunts and groans that turned to needy whines made you keen, and his hands that trembled while they rubbed over your sensitive nipples brought chills to your body.

 “ Liebe,” he moaned, “I’m going to cum.”

He looks down his body to where his cock disappeared into your pussy. He backed up a smidge, readying himself to pull out and finish on you. He brought himself as close to the edge as he can with your cunt.

As his hand moved from your tits to his cock, you acted quickly. You wrapped your legs around his waist before he’s able to fully pull himself out from your gummy walls. His tip was still snug inside. You locked your legs behind him and pull him forward. 

 König howled, his cock sliding right back in, quick and all the way to the hilt. He was close before that. This one final stoke into your wet cunt he had made his home was all he needed to tip over the precipice, to spill inside of you. 

His mouth fell open in a choked gasp and his face scrunched in pleasure. You moaned with him as you felt the first hot shot of hot cum painting the walls of your pussy. He milked himself inside of you, thrusting lightly as he rode the wave. It is just about the sexiest thing you’d ever seen in your life. 

When he finally seemed to collect himself enough to function, he shook his head at you with a smile playing on his lips. He settled over you once more, resting on his forearms, his cock still buried in your pussy. 

He nipped at your lips, and his fingers played with your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and nuzzled your face into neck, now beaded with his sweat.

“That feels like an adequate thank you,” you hummed. You could feel him rumble above you.

Bit the bullet and wrote something totally indulgent as a first foray. The COD brainrot has been SOOOO REAL

[calder]

In every mainline Fallout game except for New Vegas, players can earn the loyalty of a dog known as “Dogmeat.” As part of the main quest of Fallout 4, Dogmeat assists in tracking down the antagonist, even if the player has never encountered him before. When you leave Kellogg’s home, Nick simply starts talking about Dogmeat as if he’s a known quantity.

Perhaps related to this quirk of the world, Dogmeat is first named in this game when the clairvoyant Mama Murphy recognizes him and addresses him by name. The game’s UI calls him “DOG” until he is recognized by Valentine or Murphy. It seems clear that this german shepherd is somehow an independent agent with a good reputation, or something.

Dogmeat does not have a loyalty quest associated with him, which is how the player would earn the other companions’ perks. However, upon finding Astoundingly Awesome Tales #9 within the Institute, Dogmeat becomes more resistant to damage. While this isn’t coherent or conclusive evidence of Dogmeat being a synth, it’s plainly prompting the audience to consider that idea. In light of these factors, his origins have been fiercely debated among the community.

The skeptics and “hard sci-fi” fans out there would have you believe that he’s merely a famous stray dog who solves crimes. But I believe there's something more remarkable at work.

There's a section in the Fallout 2 instruction book called the Vault Dweller's Memoirs, where the player character of the first game recounts what canonically happened. Due to Fallout’s famously terrible companion AI, if you travelled to Mariposa with Dogmeat, he would consistently run into the force fields and get vaporized. So, in the Memoirs, we learn that this is exactly what became of Dogmeat Prime, in canon. He loyally sprinted into a wall of solid light, and disappeared. What if our buddy simply awoke in a new, confusing place?

In Fallout 2, Dogmeat must be found at the Cafe of Broken Dreams, which is explicitly a liminal space. It appears randomly to travellers in the desert. The NPCs within are frozen in time, such as a young version of President Tandi, who mentions that Ian went to “the Abbey,” an area cut from the game. To gain Dogmeat’s trust, the Chosen One must equip the Vault Dweller’s V-13 jumpsuit, which Dogmeat recognizes as belonging to his dead master. You can also attack him to spawn Mad Max, who claims ownership of the dog. Max fits the description of Dogmeat's original owner given in Fallout.

There’s also the “puppies” perk in Fallout 3, which enables you to restore Dogmeat, in the event of his death. “Dogmeat’s puppy” inherits his base and ref ids. In other words, they ARE the same NPC, just renamed. So, the way this actually articulates is that whenever Dogmeat dies in combat, you can find him waiting for you back at Vault 101. In practice, it’s almost Bombadilian.

Lastly, please consider the following developer context.

In June of 2021, the dog who performed Dogmeat’s motion capture and voice for Fallout 4 passed away. A statue of her was placed outside of every Vault in the China-exclusive sequel to Fallout Shelter. She still watches over each player.

River's owner, developer Joel Burgess, honored her in a brief thread about her involvement in the game, and shared much about his thought process and design goals while leading the character’s development. The Dogmeat project changed course early on, after Mr. Joel saw a new member of the art team gathering references of snarling German Shepherds. This motivated him to bring River into the studio, so the artists and developers could spend time with her.

He wanted to steer the team away from viewing Dogmeat as a weapon, and towards viewing him as a friend. Everything special about Dogmeat was inspired by River. For example, whenever you travel with Dogmeat, he’s constantly running ahead of you to scout for danger, then turning to wait for you. This was inspired by River’s consistent behavior on long walks. The only way they were able to motivate River to bark for recordings was by separating her from Joel while he waited in the next room. Reading the thread, it’s very clear that he hoped Dogmeat would make players feel safe, encouraging them to explore, and to wonder. In his closing thoughts, he said the following:

-Joel Burgess

Mr. Joel felt it was important to express that the ambiguity of Dogmeat’s origin in Fallout 4 was deliberately built into his presentation. He also felt it was important that you know Dogmeat loves you. Dogmeat was designed, on every level, to reflect the audience’s inspirations, and to empower their curiosity.

The true lore of Dogmeat is a rorschach test. The only “right” answer is to pursue whatever captures your imagination.

[bunny-jpeg]

hey!! can i please order a blueberry muffin with an espresso shot and maybe a vodka shot on the side, served by danny ricc? thanks!! x

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then check out the menu! there is something for everyone and i love getting new orders! i am currently hard at work trying to get through all the current ones! as for this one, i have gotten a few for ricciardo and i've been looking to write him more so thank you for your order!

blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + espresso shot (dirty talking) + vodka shot (rough sex) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, dirty talking, sleepy but rough sex, desperate!daniel

the summer break felt good. you were exhausted, so you could only imagine what your boyfriend of the last few years was feeling. the back to backs was wearing him down so it was nice just to be sprawled out in his apartment in monaco.

daniel's strong arm draped over you as you stayed snuggled up next to him. the sun shined through the large window and you two stayed tangled up in one another.

you opened your eyes a little at the feeling of the sun against your face. you then sighed and rolled over to face your lover. soft kisses on his cheeks slowly woke him up.

"happy saturday, my love." you said.

he smiled a little, "happy saturday, first saturday we've had together in a while." if he wasn't racing then he was practicing for racing or traveling. there had been very few moments since the season started where you two simply existed in each other's presence.

it was comforting, it felt like home.

he went in for a kiss on the lips purely by instinct, he sighed contently when your lips pressed against his. he kept those arms wrapped around you tightly as you both laid in bed.

he kissed at your face more and you melted into his touch. your eyes went wide for a moment as he put you on your back and looked down at you. you could see the tinge of pink across his cheeks and he chuckled a little. "still look as beautiful as ever. even with bed head." he rubbed his morning hard on against your front.

you made a small noise and felt a curl of pleasure in your gut. you looked up at your lover and smiled, "i mean you're alright. the morning breath is a bit much." then laughed when daniel started to tickle you.

"i want to make up for all the times we were apart. with you at work and me on the track." he knew very well that he made enough that you would never have to work again, but you were determined to be a productive member of society. but, sometimes he wished he could take you away to the track and have his good luck charm there all the time.

you reached up for him and started to take his t-shirt off. the sight of his bare chest made something grow warm inside of you. it was like every time you saw him, even with the nicks and bruises from racing. he was still so painfully hot.

you got your head up on the pillows and got off your sleeping shorts. it had been so hot in the city that you two were basically sleeping in your underwear most nights.

he got his own shorts off and rubbed his underwear clad cock up against your stomach, pre-cum staining the front of his briefs. he groaned, "were you always this beautiful, i mean, you always were beautiful. but there's something about you right now that is just getting me so turned on."

you chuckled, "i think you're just half asleep, my dear. how about once i tame the rat's nest of my hair.

"nah, nah." he leaned in closer, and worked to get his cock out of his underwear, "i like the rat's nest. my sleepy baby wanting to get fucked out." he planted a kiss on your cheek, "i don't think it'll fit. i think my girl's cunt is too small."

you whined, "c'mon, danny." you rolled your hips and little to entice him. and it made the blood all rush to daniel's cock, you noticed it and looked up at him with such a sweet expression, "if you don't fuck me, no one else will. because i only want you, so it's not fair if you don't fuck me."

daniel felt a pain in his chest and his cock bob. he swallowed and said, "that's what i like to hear, babe." he stroked his cock a little bit and eyed your naked form. stripped of all clothes now, and so beautiful.

he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his exposed cock up against your wet slit. there was something about having sex so early in the morning, with nothing else on the schedule. just the two of you.

he groaned a little bit, "this is all mine." daniel's dirty talk was something else. as he rubbed up against you, his tongue went wild, "so pretty under me, letting me fuck you so early in the morning. you're such a good girl for me. you are meant for me, and only me."

you felt the pleasure pump through your body. you grit your teeth for a moment as you felt him slip his cock into you. despite his initial remark, it did fit.

he moved against you slowly, he found his heartbeat in his ears as he rocked against you. he could feel the heat of pleasure in his head as he moved against you. you were just so painfully good under him.

his bulkier frame crowded your space, it made you feel small against him. he loved the feeling however, you were so sweet under him. painfully adorable in a way that he couldn't fully put into words. all he knew was that he wanted you, he yearned for you so badly that he didn't know what else he could besides bury his cock into you with a quickened pace.

he had you pressed further into the bed as he held you by the hips. he groaned, those big hands on your soft skin, moving you to his liking as his cock bullied against your sweet, slick pussy.

"i love you." he said as he swallowed back his pleasure.

you looked up at him, your eyes a little hooded from the sleep and pleasure. your cheeks felt hot as you said, "i love you too, please, danny. i need you."

he chuckled, "don't worry, babe. you got me, you got me until the day we die. you're my forever." he kissed at your face, feeling the heat pool in his gut as he moved against you.

the feeling between you two was hot as the two of you fucked in the morning light. you whimpered a little and felt the pleasure in your brain.

his strokes were rough as he fucked you on the bed. you held onto the covers tightly as he pushed his cock as far it could reach. and even that was deep enough for you. he leaned in to kiss you passionately as he thrusted his cock in and out of you.

his strokes were rough and they made you see stars. he loved when he bullied his cock into your pussy. the sight of you was beautiful when he pleasured you. he tensed his jaw for a moment before he said, "you're so painfully hot, babe. look at you, all needy under me."

you whimpered, "please, danny."

he chuckled, "i've got you, babe. fuck, you feel so good under me. right where you belong."

his words made you flushed as he continued to move. you felt the heat of orgasm through your system.

"fuckin' hell, danny!" you whined as you arched your back a little.

he picked up the pace and watched your grip onto the covers under your back. he admired the sight of your nude body under him. every curve, mole and mark was just beautiful to him. it made the blood thump in his ears as he kept his cock buried in you.

he swallowed and felt a shiver run through his body as he continued to thrust up against you. it was music to your ears, when you let out a sweet moan as you climaxed. his kept his gaze on him as he panted wildly.

"so beautiful."

"i love you." you panted.

he chuckled, "i love you too." then quickened his pace to meet his own orgasm. his cock buried as deep as it would go as he fucked you into the bed you shared. his pace was rougher, and his tongue felt looser as he said, "i only want ya, no one else can have you while i'm still alive. you're my girl, my one and only. from those pretty eyes to your prettier cunt. the way it takes me so well." he gasped before he came inside of your sweet slick pussy.

he slowed down his pace to a stop and kept his cock inside of you. he was still pretty hard, his heart was thumping heavily in his chest. he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, that was one way to wake up.

you laid there, blissed out under him. he licked his lips at the sight of you and felt his cock twitch inside of you. he smiled down at you before he laid you on your side to get comfortable back into bed.

he slotted himself behind you and spread your legs. he sank his cock in once more from behind. not to rut against you, but to just hold you. to be comfortable next to you. he wanted to feel close to his woman, his beautiful light in his life.

while you both laid in bed, so intimately close, the sun shined down on both of you. you two were perfect for one another. <3

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRISTOPHER 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: this story includes very toxic and abusive behavior. none of the actions or words in this series are justified and are written exclusively for entertainment purposes only. under no circumstances are they personally associated with chris other than just using him as the main character. read at your own discretion. now that that is cleared up, there will be 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: 6k

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Chris drove like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just almost killed you both. Like he hadn’t just kissed you while you were still crying. Like he hadn’t just decided for you that you were going to his parents’ house and pretending to be his girlfriend.

The silence was deafening, but you couldn’t speak. You were still too shaken, too rattled, too fucking confused to process any of it.

Chris, on the other hand, was completely normal. One hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on your thigh, his grip firm but not forceful- like it belonged there. Like you belonged to him.

His knuckles were still bleeding from when he hit the steering wheel, the red smeared across his fingers, staining his skin. But he didn’t even seem to notice.

Your phone kept buzzing in your lap, Ava’s name lighting up the screen over and over again. You already knew what she was saying. Where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you answering? I’m about to pull up and shoot this motherfucker if you don’t text me back.

Your hands were shaking as you turned off your location for Ava and Matt.

Chris glanced at you briefly but didn’t say anything.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely steady. “Give me your phone.”

Chris’s fingers flexed slightly on your thigh before he lifted his hand and handed it over without hesitation.

Your heart pounded as you tried his old password- the one from high school. The one he had set up using number coordinates with your name.

Your fingers trembled as you typed it in.

It still worked.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned to look at him, but he didn’t meet your eyes.

He just kept driving.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and went straight into his settings, turning off location sharing for Matt, Nick, and anyone else who could track him down. You were about to lock the phone when something caught your eye- his messages.

There were so many.

And not just casual conversations. Not just the group chat with his brothers.

Girls.

Everywhere.

You scrolled, your stomach twisting as you opened his texts, then his DMs.

Sexting.

Nudes.

Flirty voice notes.

Your heart started pounding for a completely different reason now, your fingers gripping the phone tighter.

Chris glanced over, immediately sensing the shift in your energy. “What?”

You turned the phone toward him, your grip like iron. “Who the fuck are these sluts?”

His jaw ticked, and before you could react, he reached over to snatch the phone out of your hands.

But you were quicker. You yanked it away, holding it close to your chest. “No.” Your voice came out low and sharp. “Who are these people, Chris?”

Chris let out a humorless laugh, gripping the wheel tighter. “Don’t fucking play with me,” he warned, his voice dark. “Give me the phone.”

You ignored him, scrolling further. The messages just kept coming. So many of them. So many girls. Some messages from today.

Your stomach burned.

“You think I’m just gonna let this slide?” you said, your voice rising. “You have a fucking harem in your DMs, but I can’t even kiss someone at a party without you throwing a fucking fit?”

Chris clenched his jaw. “Y/N-”

You cut him off, reading one of his messages out loud.

“Since you want it so bad, why don’t you come and get it?” Your voice was dripping with venom. “Wow, Chris. That’s real fucking sweet. That to one of your little whores?”

Chris snapped.

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist in a bruising grip, his other hand still gripping the wheel.

“Shut the fuck up.” His voice was dangerously low, his knuckles white from how hard he was holding onto the steering wheel now.

“Why?” you seethed, yanking your wrist back. “You can dish it, but you can’t take it? What’s wrong, Chris? You don’t like the double standard when I’m the one pointing it out?”

Chris growled, actually growled, and you could see the rage bubbling in his chest, his breathing ragged, his control slipping.

The car sped up.

Your heart lurched.

“Chris,” you said sharply. “Slow the fuck down.”

But he didn’t.

He pressed harder on the gas, his fingers gripping the wheel so tight his already-bleeding knuckles looked worse now.

“You want to talk about double standards, Y/N?” he said, his voice eerily calm despite how fast he was going. “How about the fact that you fucked off for years, ghosted me like I was nothing, and then come back acting like you’re the one with a right to be mad?”

You shook with rage. “I ALREADY APOLOGIZED FOR THAT!”

Chris laughed. “And you think that fucking fixes it?”

The car swerved, and you grabbed the dashboard, your stomach twisting in fear.

“Chris, fucking stop-”

He yanked the wheel, narrowly dodging a parked car. “Nah, let’s talk, sweetheart,” he said darkly. “Let’s fucking talk.”

“Chris, slow the fuck down!” you shouted, gripping the side of your seat as he cut through a red light, barely missing a car that honked violently behind you. Your heart pounded as he weaved recklessly through Boston traffic, taking sharp turns, slipping through lanes, barely braking in time to avoid slamming into the cars ahead.

He let out a humorless chuckle, his grip on the wheel tight as hell, his already-bleeding knuckles looking even worse. “Nah,” he said, voice smooth but full of rage. “You wanted to talk. So what the fuck do you wanna say?”

He gunned it, swerving past a truck, slipping into the narrowest opening between two cars like he was playing a video game, the tires screeching as he sped onto the highway toward Somerville.

Your stomach twisted with panic, and for a second, real fear overtook your anger. “Chris, fucking stop! You’re gonna get us killed!”

But he wasn’t listening.

He kept driving, too fast, too reckless, dodging in and out of traffic, cutting people off without a second thought. A car swerved out of the way, blaring its horn, and Chris barely reacted.

Something snapped inside you.

Fine.

Fuck it.

If he wanted to drive like a maniac, he was gonna fucking deal with the consequences.

Before he could react, you unbuckled your seatbelt, your fingers gripping the door handle. You rolled down the window and, without hesitation, leaned halfway out of the car, your upper body hanging out into the rushing wind.

“HEY, WHAT THE FUCK?!” Chris roared, reaching for you.

You turned your head, your hair whipping around your face, your voice dripping with venom. “You wanna drive like this?! Then you’ll carry the fucking responsibility when you KILL ME, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

Chris yanked you back into the car so fast you barely registered the motion before you were slammed back into your seat. His hand gripped your wrist bruisingly tight, his other hand gripping the wheel as he finally started to slow down, breathing ragged, jaw clenched so tight you thought his teeth might crack.

His eyes flashed wildly between the road and you. “Put your fucking seatbelt back on. Now.”

You shook your head, yanking at his grip. “Tell me who they are first.”

His jaw ticked. “Y/N, put the fucking seatbelt on. I’m not playing with you.”

You reached for the window again.

“FINE!” he snapped, yanking the wheel, pulling onto the shoulder so fast the car jerked violently. His hands shook as he slammed the car into park, the engine humming loudly between you both.

His chest heaved, his breath sharp, his fucking eyes burning into yours. “They’re just- ” He exhaled sharply, running a bloody hand through his hair. “They’re just random girls in my DMs. Some I met at parties. Some are fans. A few models who saw our videos and wanted me. That what you wanna hear?”

You seethed, rage pulsing through you like a heartbeat. Your fists trembled, your whole body heating with something you refused to name.

“FUCK YOU.”

Chris’s lips parted, his smirk flickering between real amusement and pure rage. “Excuse me?”

You laughed- a dark, humorless laugh- as you turned your body toward him. “That’s not fair,” you spat. “That’s so not fucking fair, Chris. You can have all these bitches slobbering over you, but the second I even breathe near another guy, you lose your fucking mind?”

Chris didn’t blink, didn’t move.

Just watched you.

Waiting.

Daring.

“You know what?” you said, your voice steady, your expression set. “Fuck it. You wanna act like this? Then let’s play your fucking game.”

Chris’s head tilted slightly, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “What game?”

You smirked, venom in your eyes, in your tone, in your fucking bones.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to a frat party,” you said slowly, your voice like ice. “And I’m gonna fuck every single guy in the frat house. And while they’re all cumming on me, I’m gonna record it and send it to you. Then I’ll see how you feel, you piece of shit.”

The second the words left your mouth, Chris lunged.

His hand flew to your jaw, gripping it hard, forcing your face toward him. His breath was ragged, his eyes wild, his lips parted like he wanted to say something- but couldn’t.

For a split second, the entire world stilled.

Then, in a voice so low and dangerous it sent a shiver down your spine, Chris muttered:

“I fucking dare you.”

Chris’s grip on your jaw tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin as he studied you, his blue eyes flicking between yours, searching, reading you. You didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. His anger was palpable, vibrating through every inch of his body, but it wasn’t just anger- it was something deeper, something unspoken.

For a full minute, he just held you there, his thumb brushing against the curve of your cheek, his fingers gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him like he was daring you to fight back.

Then, his lips parted, and his voice came out low, smooth, almost hypnotic.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, his grip shifting just slightly, his thumb tracing over your lower lip. “So obedient. When you’re not running that fucking mouth of yours.”

A shudder ran down your spine.

Chris smirked, his gaze roaming over your face, soaking in the way you were still caught in his hold, unable to do anything but breathe him in. “No one else deserves to see you like this.”

His words sent a slow, sick twist through your stomach, and something in you snapped back into reality.

“And you do?” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Chris’s smirk didn’t falter. He just tilted his head, his thumb pressing against your lip again. Then, in a voice so quiet it sent a pulse of heat through your chest, he said,

“I’ve waited my whole life for you.”

Your breath hitched, your whole body freezing.

His eyes darkened. “I deserve you more than anyone.”

Your mouth opened- then closed.

For the first time in this entire fucking war between you, he stunned you into silence.

Chris took in the way you looked at him- like you wanted to argue but couldn’t- and then, just as smoothly as he’d stopped the car, he let go of your face and shifted back into drive, pulling back onto the road.

The rest of the ride was silent.

You stared out the window, trying to process everything, trying to breathe normally again, but your pulse was still erratic, your skin burning where his hands had been.

The houses and streetlights blurred past as Chris drove, calmly now, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just said the most insane fucking thing to you.

But then your eyes flicked toward his hands, still gripping the wheel- and you noticed his knuckles.

Still bleeding.

Still raw.

Still split from when he hit the steering wheel.

Your stomach twisted.

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to ignore it, to not care, but before you could stop yourself, your hands moved on their own.

You reached into your glovebox, pulled out the small first-aid kit you kept there, and grabbed the antiseptic wipes and bandages.

Chris didn’t say anything as you turned toward him, grabbing his wrist roughly. He didn’t look at you. Didn’t protest.

He just let you do it.

You unwrapped the wipe and ran it over his knuckles, watching as the blood smeared before fading into the white cloth. His fingers twitched slightly under your touch, but he still didn’t say a word.

You didn’t, either.

Once the blood was cleaned, you carefully placed a bandage over the deepest cut, pressing down to make sure it stuck.

Chris let out a slow breath.

Then, before you could pull away, his hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist.

Your eyes snapped up to his face, your lips parting slightly, but before you could react, he pulled your hand to his mouth and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles.

The warmth of his lips sent a shiver through you.

Your breath caught in your throat.

And then, just as quickly, he let go- his hands moving back to the wheel, his eyes still trained on the road like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just done that.

Like he wasn’t breaking you apart piece by fucking piece.

The car rolled to a slow stop in front of the familiar house, the driveway illuminated by the dim streetlights. Your breath was still unsteady, your body still trembling from the insanity of the last thirty minutes.

Chris shifted into park, but before you could even process that you had arrived, his hand shot out again, wrapping around the back of your head and pulling you toward him.

You gasped slightly, but he wasn’t kissing you. His fingers cupped your face, tilting it toward the dim light inside the car as his thumbs brushed under your eyes, wiping at the smudged mascara streaks that had run down your cheeks from the wind, from the tears, from him.

His touch was unnervingly gentle- almost careful, as if he were fixing something he cared about. His fingers traced your jaw, smoothing back the strands of hair that had gotten tangled from when you’d stuck your head out the window like a maniac.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t move.

You just let him do it.

Because you were so fucking tired.

Once he was satisfied with how you looked, he pulled his visor down, flipping open the mirror and adjusting his own hair, fixing the mess he’d made when he ran his bloody fingers through it earlier.

Then, he snapped the visor shut, exhaled, and turned back to you.

“You ready, my love?”

Your entire body flinched at the name, your breath hitching as your chest tightened painfully.

Chris noticed.

But he didn’t say anything about it. He just smirked faintly, reached for the door handle, and stepped out of the car like nothing had happened.

You sat there, stunned, frozen, unable to move as he started walking toward the house.

This was too much. This was whiplash.

This was fucking insane.

Chris made it halfway to the front steps before realizing you hadn’t gotten out yet. He stopped, turned back, and tilted his head, waiting.

Then, without a word, he lifted his fingers and motioned you over.

And like a fucking dog, you reached for the door handle, opened it, and stepped out, your legs shaky, your stomach twisting as you followed him up the steps.

He held the door open for you as you stepped inside, the warm scent of home-cooked meals and lavender candles immediately filling your senses, so painfully familiar it nearly made you cry.

Chris shut the door behind you, then, like nothing had happened, he called out, his voice light, normal, friendly.

“Hey, Mom!”

You blinked at him, your throat closing up.

His voice wasn’t sharp. Wasn’t mocking. Wasn’t filled with venom or manipulation or anything he usually used against you.

It was soft. It was the voice he used before- before everything, before the war between you, before the push and pull and chaos.

You nearly fucking cried right then and there.

Chris glanced at you and noticed the way your eyes immediately glossed over, and before you could even react, he reached out and wiped them again, his fingers brushing under your eyes, his touch still gentle- but this time, his voice was not.

“You better cut that shit out now,” he muttered under his breath, his tone a warning, his fingers digging into your jaw for a split second before he let go and stepped back.

Footsteps from upstairs interrupted your haze, and then-

“Hello, Chrissy!” Mary Lou’s voice was light, warm, so unbelievably kind it made you feel like you didn’t deserve to be standing here. The way she could recognize him simply from his voice made you heart hurt, because you knew that you could too. She turned the corner and nearly gasped when she saw you standing beside him.

“Y/N!” she beamed, her hands clasping together in pure joy. “How are you? It’s been so long!”

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Hi, Mary Lou. I- I’m good. How are you?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, coming closer and reaching for your hands, holding them in hers. “Better now that you’re here! It has been years! I always wondered if you’d ever come back into our lives! We’ve all missed you!”

You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say, your stomach twisting violently.

And then- Chris, smooth as ever, dropped the bomb.

“Yeah,” he said, wrapping an arm casually around your waist, pulling you flush against his side like this was normal. “We’ve actually been back together for a little while now.”

Your entire body went rigid.

Mary Lou gasped, genuinely elated, her eyes shining as she looked between you both. “Oh my goodness! Finally! I always thought it would be in high school, but-” She let out a soft laugh. “Good things take time, huh?”

You couldn’t breathe.

Chris’s fingers tightened slightly on your waist, a silent reminder, a command to play along.

Your mouth felt dry, your chest was aching, but somehow, you found the strength to nod.

“Yeah,” you murmured, forcing another smile. “Good things take time.”

Chris smirked, looking down at you like he knew he had you in checkmate.

“Yeah,” he echoed smoothly, “we’ve been happier than ever.”

And as Mary Lou clasped her hands in delight, gushing about how excited she was, how she knew this would happen eventually- you realized just how deep you had fallen into Chris’s world.

And you weren’t sure you were ever getting out.

The rest of the night was exhausting.

Chris played his role perfectly- so well that for a few fleeting moments, you almost believed it too.

Mary Lou had gushed over you, talking a mile a minute about how happy she was that you and Chris had finally figured things out, how she always knew you two would end up together. She asked about your life, what you’d been up to, what you planned on doing next, all while Chris sat beside you with his arm firmly around your waist, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your hip as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And then Jimmy came downstairs, stretching and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The moment he saw you, he perked up, his face lighting with recognition.

“No way,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “Y/N L/N in my house again? Hell must’ve frozen over.”

Chris laughed, squeezing your side. “Told you she’d come back eventually, Dad.”

You forced a smile, your stomach twisting as Jimmy pulled you into a quick hug, patting your back in that friendly, fatherly way that almost made you feel normal.

“Damn, kid,” Jimmy said, stepping back and shaking his head. “It’s been what, almost two years? Thought we’d lost you for good.”

Chris looked down at you, his lips tugging into a small, knowing smirk. “She found her way back.”

You wanted to scream.

Every time you tried to hold yourself together, Chris would touch you, his hands grazing over your arms, his fingers lacing with yours, his lips brushing against your hair whenever Mary Lou or Jimmy weren’t looking. And worse- his voice. The way he spoke to you, about you, was so loving, so gentle, so full of warmth that it felt real.

You almost believed it.

Almost.

But then you’d catch the glint in his eye, the one that told you he knew exactly what he was doing. The one that reminded you that this was all for his entertainment.

And you hated how easy it was for him.

After what felt like an eternity, Chris finally squeezed your hand and gave his mom a sheepish smile. “As much as we’d love to stay, I gotta drive my lady home. Her and Ava live together in an apartment in Boston, actually! I’m not sure if Matt has mentioned it but…” he said smoothly. “We used her car, so we can’t stay overnight.”

Mary Lou’s face fell. “Oh, but I was hoping we could all have breakfast in the morning! But tell Ava I said hi and that I miss her!”

Chris chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple- so convincing it made your heart clench. “Another time, I promise.”

Mary Lou sighed but nodded, pulling you into another hug. “You better come back, Y/N. Don’t let this one keep you all to himself.”

You gave a weak laugh, nodding. “Of course.”

Jimmy clapped Chris on the back, giving him a knowing look. “Don’t fuck this up,” he said gruffly, his eyes flicking to you. “She’s a keeper.”

Chris smirked. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

And just like that, you were back in the car. You didn’t breathe. You didn’t move.

You just sat there, your hands curled into fists on your lap, your body stiff as Chris started the car. He threw his arm over the passenger seat as checked for people before reversing, his fingers grazing the headrest behind you, the scent of his cologne thick in the air.

A sob ripped out of your throat so suddenly that you barely registered the sound of it. Your hands flew to your face, your body curling in on itself as the weight of the entire night collapsed onto you.

As soon as the first sob ripped out of your throat, Chris’s head snapped toward you. His entire body shifted as he reached for you, his hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you toward him, his voice dropping into something soft, something gentle.

“Aww, my love,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your damp cheek, his grip warm, steady, comforting. “I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”

His voice was so soothing, so convincing that for a second, for just a second, it worked. His touch anchored you, his fingers smoothing over your cheekbones, his thumb wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. He held you so carefully, his eyes studying you like he actually cared, like he actually felt bad for everything that had just happened.

For a fleeting, fragile moment, you let yourself believe it.

And then his lips brushed your forehead, his breath steady as he exhaled against your skin. And when he spoke again, his voice was low, cold.

“You can’t cry when you did this to yourself.”

It was like a knife straight through your chest.

You snapped. The grief, the exhaustion, the overwhelming suffocation of the night collapsed into fury.

“Fuck you!” you screamed, thrashing against the seatbelt, against him. Your hands shoved at his chest, your nails scraping at his arms, your whole body writhing with the need to hurt him back.

Chris barely moved.

Your fists collided with him again, your sobs turning into frustrated, broken gasps as you fought against the seatbelt that locked you in place.

“Fuck you, Chris! Fuck you! I hate you!”

Chris grabbed your wrists, his grip tight, unyielding.

“In front of my parents’ house?” he murmured, his voice so eerily calm that it sent a shiver down your spine. “You know better.”

The words struck something deep inside you.

You froze.

Your chest was still heaving, your entire body trembling, but you stopped.

Chris waited. His grip loosened just slightly, his eyes scanning your face like he was making sure you had finally gotten it.

Then, satisfied, he let go of you entirely and leaned back, one hand gripping the wheel as he put the car into reverse.

And then, without another word, he backed out of the driveway and started the drive back to your place.

The ride was silent.

You stared out the window, your mind spinning, your body still shaking with leftover rage and humiliation.

Chris didn’t say anything.

But the smirk on his face, the way his fingers drummed against the wheel, told you everything you needed to know. He had won. And you had let him.

The ride home was completely silent. And Chris looked… calm. Like the past hour of screaming and fighting had never even happened.

As he pulled into your apartment parking lot, he put the car in park and let out a soft exhale, like he was coming down from a long day. He turned to you, and just like that, the mask slipped into place.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, his voice so soft, so apologetic, like he actually cared. His hand reached over, cupping your thigh gently, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. “You know I don’t mean it, right? I just… I can’t help but react when you do these things.”

Your stomach twisted violently, but you stayed quiet.

Chris sighed, leaning in closer, his voice dropping lower- so gentle, so coaxing. “Let me make it better for you, okay?” His lips brushed against your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Let me come inside with you. I’ll make it all better. I’ll stay the night and make you feel real good, baby.”

You hated how fucking good he was at this.

How well he knew you.

How easily he could pull you back in.

And you let him.

You let him guide you out of the car, let him place a hand on your lower back as you walked into the apartment together, let yourself fall for it again.

For a moment, everything felt… calm. Forced, but calm. You weren’t dumb- you knew better- but the alternative was too exhausting to face right now.

So you walked inside, fully prepared to just sneak upstairs, let the night be over, maybe breathe for a second-

But the moment you opened the door, your stomach dropped.

Ava and Matt were sitting on the couch, waiting.

Like fucking parents catching their kid sneaking a boy in after curfew.

Matt was leaned back, arms resting along the couch, completely unbothered.

But Ava?

She was too calm.

Too at peace.

And that’s when you knew.

Something was about to go down.

Chris paused beside you, his hand still on your back as he assessed the situation. You swallowed thickly, stepping forward slightly. “Chris, go up to my room,” you murmured quickly. “I’ll talk to them.”

Chris smirked slightly, pressing a slow kiss to the side of your head before stepping forward, moving to walk past Ava.

She stood up.

Casually. Quietly. Without a word.

And blocked his path.

Chris raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly before flashing her a smug smile. “Excuse me,” he said smoothly, like he was politely asking someone to move out of his way in a grocery store.

Ava let out a short, almost innocent laugh-

Then cranked her right hand back and sent the nastiest fucking right hook to his face.

The slap of skin on skin echoed through the apartment, so fucking loud that it made your stomach lurch.

Chris hit the floor, landing hard on his side, his hand immediately flying to his jaw as he let out a low groan.

Then, everything exploded.

“FUCK YOU!” Ava screamed, her voice shaking with rage as she towered over him. “WHAT THE FUCK MAKES YOU THINK IT’S OKAY TO TREAT HER LIKE THAT, YOU FUCKING CUNT?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

Chris rolled onto his back, groaning slightly as he blinked up at her, but Ava was already stepping forward, going off.

“YOU ARE SO FUCKING LUCKY I DON’T OWN A FUCKING GUN RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I WOULD SHOOT YOU UNTIL YOU’RE NOTHING BUT FUCKING COMPOST, YOU UGLY, WORTHLESS, WASTE OF SPACE!” She was shaking, her voice cracking, feral with rage. “HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!”

Chris exhaled sharply, still gripping his face, but the worst part?

The smirk was still there.

Ava saw it.

And she lost it.

Without hesitation, she kicked him hard, right in the fucking balls.

Chris let out a strangled grunt, immediately curling inward, finally reacting, his body tensing in pain.

But Ava wasn’t done.

She spat on him.

And that was when the room went silent.

You stood there, frozen, still trying to process the absolute chaos of what just happened.

Chris was still on the ground, his body tense, his head tilted slightly like he was waiting for the next hit, his jaw clenched so fucking tight you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.

Ava turned to you.

Her face was dead fucking serious.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she said coldly. “Go to fuck to bed.”

You swallowed thickly, your throat dry.

Then, she turned to Chris, her eyes burning with a warning, before she motioned to Matt.

Matt finally moved, standing up slowly, raising his eyebrows at you in a look that said you knew better than this.

Then, without another word, he followed Ava up the stairs, leaving you standing there, your ears ringing, your heart pounding-

And Chris, still on the floor, letting out a slow, uneven breath.

You didn’t move.

Not until you heard Ava’s door slam upstairs.

Only then did something click inside you. Only then did your body unfreeze, your legs moving on instinct as you stepped forward and crouched down beside Chris, your hands hovering slightly over his arms like you weren’t sure what you were even doing.

“Are you… okay?” you asked, your voice softer than you expected.

Chris let out a breath, then- laughed. A small, breathy chuckle that made your stomach twist in a way it shouldn’t.

“For someone who’s, what, five-three?” he muttered, groaning as he pressed a hand against his jaw. “She sure has a pretty lethal punch.”

Despite everything, you laughed too.

“Yeah,” you muttered, shaking your head. “She’s fucking crazy.”

Chris sat up slowly, cupping both his balls and his jaw at the same time, groaning again. “Yeah, I can see that.”

You exhaled, running a hand through your hair before standing. “Come on,” you murmured, holding out a hand. “Let me get you some ice.”

Chris hesitated, blinking up at you. Then, with a smirk just barely tugging at his lips, he took your hand. You helped him up, his movements slow, stiff, still clearly in pain.

You led him to the kitchen, grabbing a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and pressing it firmly against the side of his jaw.

Chris let out a soft hiss before exhaling. “You know,” he murmured, his tone dipping into something suggestive, “it’d feel better if you grabbed something else that got hurt…”

You glared at him.

Chris grinned. “Okay, okay, okay,” he muttered, holding up a hand in surrender. But when he shifted again, he groaned, his jaw tensing as he clenched his teeth.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus Christ,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Without thinking, you lifted yourself onto the counter, your knees parting slightly to make space as you reached up to properly press the peas against his jaw.

Chris stepped forward, pushing between your legs- not sexually, not even intentionally, just fitting himself there like it was second nature.

The space between you felt small, your body instinctively reacting to his presence in a way you hated, in a way that made your stomach twist and your heart pound.

And then, for a moment- just a moment- you caught a glimpse of him from before.

Before the fighting, before the resentment, before the anger that had turned him into this twisted version of himself.

Chris was just… there.

Standing between your legs, his breath still uneven, his body still stiff from Ava’s hits, his hands resting lightly on your thighs. His face was soft, his eyes scanning yours, searching for something.

You didn’t know what.

Then, without warning, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against your shoulder.

You froze.

Your hand, still holding the bag of frozen peas against his jaw, stilled.

His fingers curled slightly against your thighs, his breath shaky, his body leaning into you in a way that made your chest ache.

And then, just as your mind started spinning with what the fuck is happening right now, he dropped the fucking bomb.

“You know I love you, right?”

Your breath hitched.

Your body locked up.

Your heart stopped beating.

The words hit like a slow-motion car crash, your entire world flipping upside down, your stomach lurching in ways that made you want to run, to scream, to cry-

And yet.

Despite everything.

Despite every fucking thing he had done.

Despite all the pain, all the manipulation, all the shit-

You still let yourself fall for it.

“I know.”

MASTERLIST

tags: @mattsobvimyfav @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @violetstxrniolo777 @urfungi @jxst-Ixving-bxt-wxerd @chrispycremedonut @ranwaOy @princesspinkkk23 @madisonnxtdoor22 @sturniolohohoho @theboredknightcat-blog @hi-people-who-are-alive @middlepartmatt

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 14

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension

I turned the locket over in my palm, my fingers trembling slightly as they traced the delicate engraving. I swallowed hard, my throat getting tighter. It was my locket. The one I thought I’d never see again.

And Matt had it.

“Where did you get this?” My voice came out quieter than I intended, but there was no mistaking the weight behind the question.

Matt didn’t answer right away. His mouth opened slightly, but then he hesitated. His expression shifted, a look on his face that I couldn’t exactly figure out. He exhaled through his nose, looking down for a brief moment before meeting my eyes again.

The pause stretched between us, thick with something unspoken.

“Matt” I said again, a little more forcefully this time. “Where did you get it?”

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. “The morning I went to Vegas” he finally said, voice quieter now. “I left the house really early.” His gaze flickered to the locket in my hands, like he was debating whether to continue. Then he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I found Ethan online the night before, after we.. kind of had it out... I made him meet me. I-” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I demanded he give it back.”

I felt my breath catch in my throat. “You-” My voice cut off as the weight of his words hit me.

He found Ethan. He met him. He demanded he return it.

For me.

Matt let out a short, humorless chuckle, but there was no amusement in his eyes. “Yeah. I wasn’t gonna let him get away with that. Not after..” He trailed off, clenching his jaw. “Not after everything.”

His words settled deep in my chest, bringing out something I wasn’t prepared to feel.

I looked back down at the locket, my vision blurring slightly. I truly believed it was gone forever. That Ethan had taken something irreplaceable from me, and I’d never get it back. And yet, all this time, Matt had been the one to fix it.

To undo what someone else had broken.

“But why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, confused.

Matt let out a slow breath. “I wanted it to be a way to make it up to you..” he admitted. “After what I said the night before.. I knew I had to do something. Anything. I knew I was out of line” He shook his head. “But I didn’t want to make it obvious that I’d gone out of my way for this, so before I got home, I stopped at Target and picked up some random suitcase. Used that as my excuse. Chris had been blowing my phone up all morning thinking I’d make us miss our flight, and when I came upstairs and saw you standing there, I knew the air between us wasn’t settled, so I didn’t act on it then.”

I stared at him, my heart twisting in a way I didn’t expect.

He had done all of that. Tracked Ethan down. Fought to get this locket back. Thought up some stupid excuse so I wouldn’t know.

Because of guilt? Because of regret?

Or.. because of something else?

I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat, blinking back the sting in my eyes. My fingers curled around the locket like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.

I wasn’t sure what to say.

This changed things. It didn’t erase the past, didn’t make the hurt disappear, but it shifted something between us. Something I wasn’t ready to name.

I took a deep breath in, my voice barely holding steady. “Why are you telling me now?”

Matt held my stare, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure out the answer himself. Finally, he shrugged, something unreadable passing over his face.

“Because I should’ve told you then. But I bitched out, and only continued to make things worse between us.”

It was so simple. So honest. And it shattered something inside me.

I felt my chest tighten as a large amount of emotions threatened to come out. Anger. Sadness. Relief. Confusion.

For the first time ever, I wasn’t looking at the Matt I thought I knew. It made me question if I was looking at the one who was hidden beneath the facade, all the mistakes, all the the things that were said.

And I wasn’t sure if that made this easier.. or more difficult.

Tears welled up in my eyes.. He had done this for me. He had fought for something I thought I’d never get back, and even if it didn’t erase everything, it meant more than I could put into words.

A shaky breath left my lips as I whispered, “Thank you.”

Matt blinked, like he wasn’t sure he heard me right. His mouth opened slightly, maybe to brush it off, but before he could say anything, I stood up.

And without thinking, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.

I felt his body stiffen, the breath he was about to take catching in his throat. For a second, I thought he might pull away, that this was too much, too soon. But then, slowly, his arms came up, hesitantly at first, before settling around me.

I squeezed my eyes shut as a tear slipped down my cheek.

“You have no idea how much this means to me” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Matt exhaled softly, and I could feel the tension leave his body as he let himself lean into the hug. His chin brushed the top of my head, and for once, it felt like there were no walls between us.

His arms tightened slightly around me, like he wasn’t sure how else to say ‘you’re welcome’ without words.

After a moment, he spoke, voice lower now, rougher. “I’m sorry. For last night. For everything.”

I nodded against his chest, unable to speak, because if I did, I might start sobbing.

Maybe things weren’t fixed. Maybe there were still a million things left unsaid. But right now, I wasn’t thinking about any of that.

Because Matt had given me back something I thought I’d lost forever.

And maybe, in some small way, he had given me part of himself, too.

Just as I started to pull myself together, footsteps echoed from down the hall. Matt must've heard them too because we both instinctively let go, stepping back just as I wiped the lingering tear from my face. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to push down the emotions still swirling inside me.

Nick appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he took in the scene before him. His eyes going back and forth between Matt and I, suspicion briefly crossing his face before he settled on a smirk. “Uh.. everything good here?”

I nodded quickly, my voice steadier now. “Yeah. We’re good.”

Matt shifted beside me, clearing his throat. “I was just leaving.” His tone was neutral, but when his eyes met mine, it was like we were speaking to each other. A silent acknowledgment of what had just happened, of what still lingered between us.

And then, just like that, he was gone.

Nick watched him leave before shrugging, seemingly deciding he wasn’t interested enough to dig deeper. “Cool, well, I’m actually just gonna crash in my room for a bit” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “My social battery is shot.”

I let out a small, breathy laugh, grateful for the shift in energy. “Yeah that’s cool with me, I’d actually enjoy an early night.”

He nodded, already turning to leave. “See you tomorrow.”

As he shut the door behind him, I let out a slow exhale. My emotions were still raw, my heart still heavy, but exhaustion was beginning to creep in. I made my way to bed, my fingers never leaving the locket.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I turned it over in my hands, tracing the delicate engraving with my fingertips. My grandfather’s handwriting. A piece of him that I had thought was lost forever. The weight of it against my palm felt comforting, like a piece of home I hadn't even realized I was missing.

I lifted the chain over my head and fastened the clasp at the nape of my neck. The cold metal pressed against my skin as I lay back against the pillows, clutching it tightly between my fingers.

I didn’t try to fight the sleep that lured me in.

The next morning, a soft knock on my door woke me from my sleep. I groaned quietly, rubbing my eyes as I rolled over. It seemed like knocking on my door was becoming a running theme on this trip, and at this point, I was too tired to care who it was.

"Come in" I called, my voice groggy.

The door creaked open, and Chris stepped inside, a stack of clothes in his hands. He looked well rested, his usual energy already apparent in the way he moved. His eyes met mine with a spark of excitement as he stepped closer.

"I crashed as soon as I hit the bed last night" he admitted with a sheepish grin, "so I only just got around to opening the box now. But I figured I’d bring yours in first, see how you like it."

He held out a green varsity jacket toward me, and I pushed myself up, reaching for it with curiosity. The fabric was thick and smooth beneath my fingers, the quality evident. My initial was embroidered on one side, my favorite number stitched onto the sleeve. Scattered across the jacket were small patches I designed.

I blinked a few times, caught off guard by how much thought he had put into it, I didn’t even actually get a say of what was being put on this. To me it wasn’t just a jacket, it was a piece of Chris and I, and how well we work together as a team.

Chris handed me a few more pieces, hoodies in different colorways, matching t-shirts. “I figured you could try them on and pick which ones you want to wear later for pictures.” he said, watching me with an easy smile.

I nodded, still a little overwhelmed but incredibly touched. “These are amazing, Chris. Seriously.”

His grin widened slightly. “Glad you think so. We killed this!”

Then, as if remembering he had more to do, he straightened up.

“I’m gonna go hand out the rest” he said, lifting the remaining clothes in his arms. “But I’ll see you in a bit?”

“Yeah cool see you later.” I said softly, watching as he turned and left the room.

The door shut behind him, and I let out a slow breath, glancing back down at the jacket in my lap. I traced over the embroidered patches again, my heart still full.

I tried on every piece, admiring the way each hoodie and t-shirt fit, running my hands over the Fresh Love logo. The jacket was definitely a must, it felt like it belonged to me in a way I couldn’t quite explain. 

After I set aside the ones I wanted to wear for the shoot tonight, I changed into a bikini, wrapping a light cover up around me before heading downstairs to make some breakfast. The house was quiet, the morning sun streaming in through the wide windows, as I walked down stairs, the noise of my sliders hitting off the marble floors making it known I was out of my room.

I moved around the open kitchen, pulling out eggs and bread, deciding to make something simple. The sky was completely blue, and the sun shone heavily through the large windows. As I cracked the eggs into a pan, I could hear the sounds of someone moving upstairs, the occasional shuffle of feet or a door opening.

Chris was practically bouncing around the villa, his excitement spilling over like a kid on Christmas morning. Every few minutes, his voice echoed through the hallways, hyping up whoever he was handing clothes to. It was almost impossible not to smile at how much this meant to him.

Nick strolled into the kitchen, sunglasses already on, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed a glass of water. "Nate, Matt, and Chris are heading out for a bit" he said casually. "You just wanna chill by the pool today?"

I nodded, taking a bite of my toast. "Yeah, sounds good."

He gestured towards the backyard. "C’mon, let’s head out now before they change their mind."

I grabbed my plate and followed him outside. The morning sun was already warm against my skin, and the pool glistened under the light. Nick dropped onto one of the loungers, stretching out lazily as I set my stuff down.

I kicked off my sliders and sat at the edge of the pool, dipping my feet into the water. It was cool against my skin, the contrast refreshing. 

"Where are they heading?" I asked, swirling my foot through the water, as I picked up a piece of bread from my plate.

"I think just into the town for a bit to pick up a few bits, nothing major" Nick replied, tilting his head back against the chair. "Figured you might wanna just relax instead of running around with them."

I appreciated that. After everything that had happened over the last few days, some time to just breathe and reset sounded perfect.

I turn to him to nod in agreement and that's when I see a shift in Nick. He lifted his sunglasses off his face, his brows furrowing in disbelief as his gaze locked onto my neck.

"Oh my god where did you find that?" he asked, his voice sounding between surprise and curiosity.

I didn’t have to look down to know exactly what he was talking about. The locket.

I felt heat rush to my face, my fingers instinctively reaching up to graze the delicate metal resting against my collarbone. I hesitated for a moment, feeling strangely vulnerable under his stare.

"Matt got it back for me.." I admitted shyly, my voice softer than I intended.

Nick blinked, clearly processing that. He sat up a little straighter, resting his arms on his knees. "Matt?" he echoed, like he wasn’t sure he heard me right.

I nodded, my fingers tracing over the engraving again. "Yeah... He, um..he met Ethan.. Made him give it back."

Nick let out a low breath, shaking his head slightly. "Damn" he muttered. He didn’t say anything right away, just looked out toward the pool like he was piecing something together.

"Didn’t expect that from him" he finally said, his voice unreadable.

"Me neither" I admitted. "But.. it means a lot."

Nick glanced back at me, his expression softer now. "Yeah" he said, nodding. "I bet it does."

The rest of the day passed peacefully by, just me and Nick lounging by the pool, the sun warming our skin as we floated between light conversation and comfortable silence.

Chris had come to say goodbye before heading out, but I hadn’t seen Nate or Matt all day. It was unusual, considering how often I’d run into Matt, whether I wanted to or not. But today, for the first time, I actually wouldn’t mind seeing him.

It was around 4pm that Nick and I decided to pack it in with pool time. With the sun setting at 6.30, that would give us roughly two hours to get dressed, do our hair, and make sure everything was perfect for the shoot.

I make my way to my room to get ready, music filling the air of the villa. Three different songs play at the same time, all coming from different rooms, signalling that the three boys are back. The music slowly fades away as I shut my door, now turning on my own to listen to while I get ready. I take my time but I’m also conscious of the fact I need to be ready before the sun starts to set. 

I finish up, grab the clothes I’ve chosen for the shoot, and head out of my room, making my way across the villa to Nick’s. The halls are quieter now, strangely so, no music or no conversations going on in the background. I knock on the door, peeking inside. “Where is everyone?” I ask, not seeing anyone else around.

Nick looks up from where he's sitting, scrolling on his phone. “They already went down to the beach to make sure they get a good spot for the shoot. You know Chris, always needing everything to be perfect.”

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. Of course, I could already picture him down there, pacing, making sure the lighting is just right, checking the angles. He’s not one for leaving things to chance.

I nodded at Nick’s words, adjusting the clothes draped over my arm.  "Guess we should head down then?" I said, glancing at Nick.

He stretched lazily before standing up. "Yeah, we should. You know how Chris gets when people take too long."

I let out a small laugh, but the lingering quiet still felt strange. Maybe it was just the anticipation of the shoot, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, I shook it off and followed Nick out the door, ready to make sure we got some good pictures for this promo.

Nick and I arrived at the beach at just the right moment. The sky was painted in streaks of gold and soft pink, the sun dipping lower toward the horizon, the perfect backdrop for these photos.

As we reached the group, I spotted Nate and Matt for the first time today, which was also my first time seeing Matt since our brief moment last night. A strange nervousness settled in my stomach, though I wasn’t sure why. I gave them a small, hesitant smile as I stepped up beside Nate.

Chris was busy taking photos of Matt, directing him into different angles, completely in his element. But as my gaze drifted toward Matt, something stopped me in my tracks. He was wearing a turquoise varsity jacket, standing against the backdrop of the ocean, the color complimenting his blue eyes even more. But that wasn’t what caught my attention.

It was the details. 

His jacket, his jacket. Had my initial stitched onto one side. And on the sleeve, my favorite number.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I tried to make sense of it. 

Had he done that on purpose? 

Was it just a coincidence?

a/n : sorry if your inital is M anyway lol

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[am-i-interrupting]

reminding you to write one shït about viktor helping me shower

Washed Away Like Soap Suds

Thank you for your services.

The day had been. . . a day for certain. It had been long and treacherous.

Your hand had several cuts. One could blame it upon being in the kitchen all day. However, it wasn’t sheer unlucky circumstances which had caused the blades you’d wielded to slip. No, instead it was your shaking hand and racing hard and inability to focus.

You’d been distracted all day. More accurately, you’d been extraordinarily stressed.

Your best friend was in the hospital. Had been all day. You were in the kitchen. Had been all day. The reason you weren’t there with her was purely because her parents and sister took priority in visiting rights.

The countertops were filled with baked treats. Your started the day off with cookies. Then bread. After that came the beignets, the pie (completely homemade including the crust), the danishes. The counter was well covered.

Just like your hand. The first nick came when you were making slices in the bread before you let it rise for a second time. The second when you were peeling the apples for the pie and the third soon after when you were slicing those same apples. The fourth came from the slicing of strawberries for the danishes.

You were placing the danishes onto a plate when Viktor placed his book down. He uncrossed his legs to stand. The pitter patter sound of his footsteps and cane were behind you before long.

His cane came into view as it was placed against the counter. His arms wrapped around your waist and his hands came to rest at your hips.

“As much as I support you opening up a bakery, I don’t believe we have the space,” he said.

You didn’t respond. Thoughts racing still. The spatula slipped between the pan and danish. You spun the plate so a bare spot was closer. Your finger lined with the back of the danish and you pushed it onto the plate. Your mind and body not registering the heat.

Viktor’s nose nuzzled against your temple. “My love,” he said softly, “you need rest.”

With the last danish on the plate, the full effect of your stress was visible through your shaking hands.

You laughed, sarcastic and devoid of true humor, “That’s not gonna happen.”

“If not your mind, then your body,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

His hands, steady and stable, covered your own. He picked up his cane and led you away from the kitchen. You let yourself be guided.

Your mind was fogged over and dreary like an abandoned railway station. However, it also raced like a train teetering off the tracks. An odd combination of very little coherent thoughts that led way to a mess of emotions.

The bathroom is where you were led. Viktor say you down atop the toilet lid.

He knelt to grab a towel. It was placed on the rack. He sidestepped the bathtub and went instead to the shower. He turned the knobs. The water began pouring down.

Propping himself up on the rim of the tub, Viktor’s hands slipped beneath your shirt. He pulled it up and over your head. His fingers undid the button of your pants and down they came as well with your underwear.

“Sit,” he said as his hands came to your shoulders.

You were guided to a seated position in the shower floor. Water just barely missed your face.

It wasn’t long before Viktor joined you, slightly elevated as he sat on the mounted shower seat. He grabbed the shower head and brought it down.

Your back pressed against the front of his legs as he washed himself off first. A very quick, brief process.

His hands went to your scalp. He massaged it causing the hair to bunch up and allowing the water to better penetrate. The water was warm in contrast to the chilled air.

Fingernails brushed against your scalp, just shy of scratching but he was gentle.

“Hold.”

Your fingers wrapped around the neck of the shower head on autopilot.

There was a click of a bottle opening, a small squirt of liquid. Your scalp, just heated seconds earlier, cooled as shampoo was lathered in your hair. You could hear the bubbles as they formed and popped.

A pressure was applied at the nape of your neck. You leaned into the touch. Tears formed in your eyes as tension began to relax. A tension you’d been holding onto for the past twenty-four hours.

Suds popped against your skin as Viktor used the lather to move onto your shoulders. Your lips curled up and down as your nose burned. A looseness coming to you that you felt you shouldn’t be having, not now, but fuck was nice.

Your head fell back into Viktor’s lap. Your eyes closed. You could feel the wetness which was not from the shower, roll down your cheeks. He must have noticed but made no remark.

He bent over. You could feel his torso push slightly against your hair. The shower head was taken from your grasp.

Water poured over your scalp. The popping bubbles washed away. The shower head was once again in your hands.

Another cap opened and it was followed by the sound of a thick congealed substance being spread across two hands. Your head was tilted a bit forward off Viktor’s thighs. Your hair was scrunched up from the bottom all the way to where your hair follicles began in sections.

A third cap was opened and more bubbles sounded as they formed and popped. Soon a net sponge was moving across your skin. It was soft and gentle. The barest of touches, leaving clouds that evaporated away in its wake.

Viktor grabbed the shower head once more. The sponge was washed off and set back into its place. Then your body followed. The water like rain that washed and cleansed you.

A knob was turned and the water went cool. A stark contrast to the warmth but not an unwelcome one. The conditioner was washed from your hair. Then the water went warm once more.

Two taps to your shoulder. You moved your body off of Viktor.

“I will be back,” he said as he reached for a towel.

His footsteps were pattering against the floor, sopping and dripping. Then he was gone.

You were left in the water. On the floor you watched as suds spun around the drain. They slowed as they neared it. Slowly they either slunk down the drain or popped before they had the chance.

Footsteps. The door to the shower slid open. The water was switched off. A towel was draped around your shoulders.

Viktor sat with you on shower floor. The outer side of his towel got wet as it soaked the remaining water.

He used your towel to dry you. His hand cupped your cheek when he was done. His thumb rubbed away a tear.

“How about you take some melatonin, we go to bed, I’ll read to you until you fall asleep, and in the morning we go back to the hospital and see if she’s accepting visitors?”

You looked at Viktor and for the first time all day you felt like you could see him. His hair was dripping. Longer and now halfway to his shoulders. His angles harsh but the curves in his lips, his ears, his moles so soft. His golden eyes were tainted with soft worry, creases near them to show it.

You felt your lips spread and your nostrils flare as hot tears fell down your face. Your head fell forward and landed on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around you. No words were needed. Nothing could be said.

His hands were steady against your back. Your hands still shook were they lay near his hip.

“Dr. Emerson is wonderful at her job,” Viktor assured you. “If anything were to go wrong, her years of experience would not lead her astray.”

That was more comforting. More comforting than the words you’d gotten from your friend’s family the multiple times you went to the hospital to check in.

She’s alright.

You’re being overdramatic. You’re not the one getting operated on.

You should be thankful you’re not allowed to go back. At least this way you don’t have to keep up with what’s going on.

“Here, drink.”

A cup was placed in your hands. It was cold to the touch. You looked down at the water inside. The ice clanked against each other and the interior.

You brought it to your lips. A cool trail was traveled through your body. It started inside your mouth and went down your throat. You could feel it go down behind your breast plate and past your heart and lungs until it stopped in your stomach.

It helped bring down your racing heart.

There was a harsh click. It was followed by the sound of a cap unscrewing. Viktor held out the melatonin bottle to you.

You stared at it blankly for a moment and then two. You reached into the bottle and pulled out two gummies. Viktor raised an eyebrow for a moment before it blinked away off his face.

Normally you only took one. However, you knew if you didn’t get a higher dose you’d worry yourself through it then stay up all night.

You popped them into your mouth and slowly chewed. The strawberry flavor a nice moment of grounding. You swallowed and your ears popped.

Viktor plucked the cup from your hands and stood. “I’ll be waiting for you in bed whenever you’re ready.”

You stayed on the floor for several, long minutes. At least, it felt long and it felt like minutes. You weren’t entire sure though.

You pushed yourself up. Your body moved by itself through the motions of brushing your teeth and blowing your nose. It also moved by itself out of the bathroom and into the bed.

Your face hit the blankets. Your towel was still wrapped around you. You pulled the covers back and shrugged off the towel. No energy or will left in you to put on clothes.

Arms wrapped around Viktor’s torso. Your ear covered his heart. It was steady and consistent. There was a background rumble coming from his voice.

“Thank you,” you blurted out before the thought of even saying something crossed your mind.

Viktor’s reading came to a halt. “Of course,” he said like it was simple, like it was nothing.

He continued reading as your eyelids grew heavy.

[sweetshuga]

can u do one where mean!Matt and popular! Y/N get hi-gh and end up being freaky just for the other 2 to walk in saying “the bread’s ready” or something else chaotic like that? Js some humorous smut

𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒏.ᐟ𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 ───~𓆩♡𓆪~─── 𝑷𝒐𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Matt’s hands roamed over your body as you two shared a heated kiss, all rational thoughts were out the window after the blunt kicked in. The first few hits weren’t that bad, made you feel a bit fuzzy. You and Matt made small talks while waiting for the effects of the blunt, and after the 5th drag everything went south. You don’t even remember how you ended up on Mat’s lap, grinding your hips against the growing bulge in his pants. Your mind was a haze, fogged by the drug in your system. Soft moans exited your parted lips, your head thrown back now that Matt’s lips trailed down your neck.

His hands travelled down and grasped your ass, pulling you down on him all while rolling his own hips, making you grind harder against him. The delicious friction made your eyes shut and you bit your lips, trying not to make too much noise since Chris and Nick were just a few dozen feet away in the living room. Your fogged head tried to remember if you had locked the door when you first entered his room, but your mind proved to have gone dumb. "Matt, ’s the door locke—" your own yelp cut you off, he had slapped your ass. Matt had an annoyed look on his face, his eyes bloodshot and looking unfocused. He smacked your clothed ass again, harder this time—making you jump.

"Focus," he groaned out in a deeper tone of voice than usual. That sent shudders through your whole body. You didn’t say anything more as you squirmed on his lap, your neck getting attacked by Matt again. Just as you rolled your hips in an awfully nice way that sent pleasure coursing through both of you, moans were on the tip of your tongues when the door burst open and Chris’ cheerful voice echoed in the otherwise quiet room. "Look! Nick actually didn’t burn the cookies this time..." His voice trailed off and grew quiet when he took in the sight of you straddling Matt with his hands all over you.

Nick mumbled something incoherently and walked in after him, only to stop in his tracks just beside Chris. "What the fuck?" Nick and Chris exchanged a look before looking back at you two. "Hey, Matt!" Chris yelled, catching the attention of the brunette under you as he looked up with annoyance at the source of the sound, his movements more sluggish due to the blunt. Then it clicked, the compromising situation, his high state and a light blush creeped up his face as his eyes widened and mouth hung open.

He quickly pushed you off his lap and looked at his brothers in horror. You burst out laughing as your back hit the mattress, the sound was so infectious that it broke any lingering tension, causing the other two to chuckle along at the absurdity of the situation while Matt looked thoroughly embarrassed. You patted the side of his leg, "c’mon don’t look too embarrassed," he glared at you before burying his face in his hands. Groaning as he mumbled a few profanities along with a quiet, "Why did they have to interrupt us?" He was still painfully hard, and you seemed to be having too much fun to think about his situation.

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒘𝒄. 551

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. English is not my first language! I wrote this while I was half asleep so I apologise if there're any typos or anything like that.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim @brookheartsmatt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @strnlslut @ribread03 @hearts4werka @larallott @ivysturnss @chrisfavoritewhore @peiivnao

[incendiobrock]

The Driskill Hotel {Chris Sturniolo}

Summary: fem!reader x bf!Chris go to Austin, Texas with Matt and Nick to film a video for Sam and Colby's channel at the Driskill Hotel. The reader is very sensitive to the supernatural and gets convinced to do the elevator ritual alone... What could possibly go wrong? ;)

Warnings: anxiety/panic attacks, ghostly encounters, fear of elevators, language, FLUFFFFF

A/N: I know this video is from awhile ago but I've had this idea and couldn't stop thinking about it. I started my page with imagines like this for Colby x reader and so I wanted to throw it back to my roots and make a Chris x reader (because I'm a die hard Chris girl)

Part 2??

You had been a fan of Sam and Colby for years, enjoying their content and being fascinated with their supernatural findings. There was always a part of you that was convinced you had a special connection with the supernatural, feeling extremely vulnerable and tethered to their world. Maybe it was due to your empathic nature, or maybe you were a undiscovered medium that hadn’t tapped into your powers.

You never tapped into your "abilities" because you were scared of what could possibly come from speaking to the dead. But when Nick, Matt, and Chris (and yourself) got asked to join in for an XPLR video on Sam and Colby's channel, you all knew that you couldn't pass it down. This is what led you all to Austin, Texas where the historic, haunted, Driskill Hotel was located.

The night had started somewhat normal, you all walked through the hotel with a tour guide where she explained the history of the building as well as the ghost inhabitants. Throughout the tour you would catch glimpses of shadow figures on the wall, hearing inaudible voices, and being extra sensitive to smells like cigar smoke and roses. The fear was definitely building inside of you when you observed that none of the rest of the group seemed to be experiencing the same things you were. You did your best to hold it together, knowing the triplets were excited to be included in the video, and not wanting to ruin your own experience of an inner fangirl being on an XPLR trip.

As the tour wrapped up and the night went on, Sam and Colby began to lead the investigation portion of their video. You stayed glued to Chris' side, feeling comfort in his presence, even with everything going on around you. Chris held an EMF reader in his left hand as his right hand was busy interlocking your fingers, running his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. He couldn't tell if you were nervous or if you were just trying to hone in on filming the video since you were all a guest to Sam and Colby's channel.

You and Chris stayed slightly behind the group as you made your way over to the elevators on the main lobby for the next part of the video, the elevator ritual. The elevators had already been acting up earlier in the night, not wanting to take you guys up to the floor you had requested. Elevators weren't necessarily your favorite inventions, a slight irrational fear of being stuck in one or one falling with you inside.

"Matt, the ghosts seem to really like you. Maybe you should be the one to do the ritual." You heard Sam say, observing how the EMF in Matt's hand continued to light up to red as they crossed through the grand lobby. As you passed by the receptionist desk you saw the figure of a tall man dart across the wall, making you subconsciously squeeze Chris' hand out of fright. "What's up baby? You okay?" Chris asked softly, pausing in his tracks to check up on you.

"Did you see that?" You asked him back, hoping that maybe you weren't going as crazy as you thought you were. Chris furrowed his eyebrows, glancing around the rotunda, trying to see whatever it was you were talking about. "See what?"

You let out a shaky breath, your palms becoming clammy as all the supernatural sensitivity was beginning to catch up to you. The hand that was holding onto Chris' disconnected as you rubbed the sweat on your pants, "I keep seeing shadows on the walls..." Chris frowns at your reply, wrapping his arms over your shoulders and pulling you into a hug. His lips pressed a firm kiss on your forehead, "I won't let anything hurt you, I promise."

"Chris! Y/n! You guys coming?" Colby asked, staring at you two from down the hall where they had stopped in front of the elevators. "Yeah we're coming, sorry!" Chris responded, gently pulling away from the hug and instantly wrapping his hand back in yours. As you stood in front of the elevator doors Sam explained to the camera, and to all of you, what the elevator ritual would consist of.

"y/n, will you do the honors?" Sam questioned, pulling your out of your trance and causing your jaw to drop open. "Huh? What?" You stuttered, not registering what he had elected you to do for this ritual.

"Do you want to do the ritual?" He rephrased, looking at you with big, hopeful eyes. Your body tensed at the thought, not only did elevators terrify you, but you had already been experiencing paranormal things the whole night. "You don't have to if you don't want." Chris said, breaking the short silence that filled the room, knowing you were already on edge and trying to stand up for you in case you were wary about doing it. "Uh, yeah, I think I could do it... I would just need to write down the order of the floors." You said, uncertainty filling your voice.

"Awesome! I'll text it to you." Sam said, beginning to type up a message to send to your phone. A lump began to form in your throat as you awaited the notification being sent to you. Chris gently rubbed your lower back, doing his best to calm your anxiety without bringing too much attention to your state, understanding that you didn't like when others were aware of your intimate emotions. Your phone vibrated in your hand, looking down to see the message;

12:00AM

Sam: 4, 2, 6, 2, 10, 5, 1

"Okay it's exactly midnight, you have to start now." Colby said, pressing the up button and watching the elevator door open. You took the camera from him, not saying a word as you faced the elevator. You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing there was no way you could back out of this now. Stepping into the elevator you instantly felt chills run up your spine.

"Now remember, when you get to the fifth floor a lady might join you. If she does then when you try to come back down to the lobby the elevator will actually go up to the tenth floor, that's how we will know it worked. If it comes back down to one then the lady didn't enter and the ritual failed." Sam said, reminding you and the audience how things were supposed to go.

Shakily, your finger made its way up to press the number four, officially beginning the ritual. The door slowly shut in front of you, keeping eye contact with Chris until you couldn't anymore. The elevator rose and the door opened, nobody was there. Floor two, nothing.

Sixth floor.

Second floor, again.

Tenth floor.

Then finally, the fifth floor. Your breath caught in your throat as the elevator door opened unusually slow, revealing an empty hallway. 'This is just a game', 'It's not real', you tried reminding yourself as your heart beat uncontrollably inside your chest. You waited for a couple seconds before pressing the button for the first floor, praying that this stupid ritual hadn't actually worked. The doors shut and the elevator began to descend back to the first floor, allowing you to let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "I guess the ritual failed guys," You lightly giggled talking into the camera, feeling relief wash over your whole body.

"Woah!" You yelped, almost dropping the camera as the elevator slightly dropped, the lights inside flickering. The screen above the door signaling that you were on the third floor. Before you knew it the elevator came to a halt, stopping dead in its tracks on the third floor.

"What? Oh no, no, no, no, no..." You whispered, panic rising inside of you as you dropped the camera to the floor and made your way to the control panel. You smashed the button for the first floor over and over again, hoping the elevator would start to move again. Nothing was happening however, the buttons not even lighting up when you pressed them. You began to reach into your back pocket for your phone, pulling it out to call Chris.

The dial tone played as you dropped to the floor in a seated position, legs shaking beneath you. After three rings Chris' voice filled your left ear, "Hey babe, why did you stop on the third floor? We were waiting for you to come back down-" He said quickly before you cut him off.

"Chris! The elevator is stuck! I don't know what to do, I'm freaking the fuck out!" Your breath became labored as you heaved in and out, feeling like no matter how much air you inhaled it wasn't reaching your lungs correctly. "Woah, woah. Okay, calm down please! Just breath alright? Listen to my breathing!" Chris instructed, knowing you were on the verge of a panic attack.

He let out slow, steady breaths of air while your vision began to blur with tears. Your head started to heat up and your ears began to ring, "I-I can't Chris... I can't breathe!" You huffed, clenching your hand over your aching heart.

"The elevators stuck, somebody go try and find someone to help!" You faintly heard Chris yell to the other boys, holding the phone away from his ear so it wasn't directed to you. "Yes you can, I believe in you babe. Nick is going to get some help, okay? Just hang in there." He continued to comfort you through the phone, coaching your breath back to normal as Nick found an employee. After five minutes, which felt like an eternity to you, the elevator doors where being pried open. The elevator had stopped just barely off center to the second floor, making the door inoperable on your side.

When the doors were finally opened you couldn't help but let the tears you had been containing fall, all the overwhelming fear catching up to your eyes. The employee held out a hand for you as you jumped the three foot distance onto the second floor lobby, landing slightly unsteady as the tears blurred your vision. Chris rushed over to you, faster than you had ever seen him move before, pulling you deep into his embrace.

"There, there, I got you. I got you, don't worry." He said, running his big hand through your hair. Your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, scared that he might disappear if you didn't hold him close. Tears stained his jacket sleeve as you buried your head into his shoulder. You both stayed like that for awhile, the others watching as you crumbled into Chris' arms.

Once you had finally cooled down, you all sat on some couches that were in the main lobby. You drank some water that Nick had brought for you as you stayed by Chris' side, his arm wrapped over your shoulders. "Y/n, I am so so sorry that the elevator got stuck. I had no idea that was going to happen and I feel horrible. I didn't realize you were scared of elevators." Sam apologized to you, feeling guilty that he had put you in this position in the first place.

"Sam, it's not your fault! How would you have known the elevator was going to get stuck?" You said sincerely, appreciating his apology even though he had nothing to do with the unfortunate situation.

"If you guys need to call it a night and go back to your hotel, we completely understand." Colby said, offering to end the night where it was instead of finishing out the investigation. "No, it's okay. I'm good now, really. There's no need to scrap the rest of the video just because of me." You reassured, wanting the boys to finish the video they had put so much effort into already.

"Are you sure?" Chris asked you.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now who's ready for the Estes Method?"

[surielstea]

Ruined Ice

Pairing: hockey!Azriel x figure skater!Reader (fem)

Summary: Az shows up early for practice and catches reader in the middle of her program, rutting up the fresh ice.

Warnings: cursing | name calling | fluff

A/N: Guys I know nothing about hockey or figure skating so please don’t come for me if some of this is wrong lmao 😭

2.3k words

The blades on the bottoms of my skates could cut through steel they were so sharp. I had made the mistake of running my thumb pad across the toepick and nicked my skin, no bigger than a paper cut but I barely even touched the metal before blood began to bead at where it had made contact.

My mood, however, was improved to its full extent when I stepped onto the ice and realized it was untouched.

I beam wildly as I begin to glide on my smooth blades around the rink, beginning my warm-ups and leaving light trails with every move I make.

Warming up took a quarter of my rented time in the rink, and the next two quarters were spent practicing my program. The state tournament was close, and approaching all too fast. My coach wasn’t able to make it tonight, yet he practically ordered me to practice anyway. I wasn't complaining, well I had been, but on this fresh ice with the cold wind nipping at my cheeks in an empty rink, I had never been more at peace.

That was the case, at least until the Hockey Players began showing up for their practices. I still had fifteen minutes left of ice time but none other than the infamous Azriel Teller was lacing up his skates on the sidelines, staring at me as I went through my routine, doing my best to ignore his gaze.

It was hard though, the man was so damned observant and I swore I could feel his eyes tracking me across the ice.

I finish my routine in my final pose, heavy breaths escaping me as I let the stance fall and I go back to my phone on the side of the wall where I can restart my music.

My phone that happened to be right in front of Azriel.

I ignored his stare and kept my eyes on the wall, making sure to go slow, knowing my freshly sharpened skates would force me straight into the wall if I went any faster.

I grab my phone with cold hands but before I even get the chance to unlock it, the male in front of me speaks up.

"You're ruining the ice," He hums and I look up from my phone, glaring at him, silently asking him if he was serious.

"Your whole team ruts up the ice every chance you get, don't start," I wave him off, scrolling through my phone to find a song to cool down to since my ice time was coming to an end.

"We rut the ice? You and your fancy twirls practically make holes straight through," He defends and I wince because I knew he was right. Especially since my skates were extra sharp tonight.

"It's not my fault you can't evade them like some bad skater," I taunt, picking a song and letting it blast over the speakers to drown him out as I skate away.

Calling Azriel a bad skater was absurd, he must've been the fastest on the ice when compared to the rest of his team, not to mention his accuracy when it came to scoring goals was outmatched. I had heard from Feyre— my best friend who was dating the team captain, that Azriel was the brains for the whole team as well, always the one planning the strategic plays, but apparently, he wasn't allowed to be a captain since he got into one too many fights during his first season.

When my cooldown music ended, mostly everyone else on the Velaris Bats had shown up for practice, staring at me as I stretched my leg up beside my head like I was an animal in the zoo. I still had five minutes left of ice time, so I made sure Azriel was watching when I practiced doing my ‘fancy twirls’, the exercise had exhausted me but it was worth it to see the look of silent rage on his face.

I continued to grin, using him as my spot as I whipped around in the air and landed gracefully down onto the ice, at such an angle that it left a horrid chip in the ice I'd have to avoid for the rest of my routine.

I spot some of the other boys noticing this as well, scowls on their faces as I give them a wink before they rush off to what I assume is the locker room to get their equipment.

Again, leaving only Azriel and I. He steps onto the ice before my time is up and I glide past him with a smirk and he returns it, something in his gaze telling me he knew something I didn't.

I brush it off and continue with my spins and jumps.

I had just come out of a lutz with enough momentum to push a boulder down a hill when suddenly all the lights in the rink shut off. I freeze, my legs buckling at the sudden change, my eyes not used to the atmosphere and before I know it I'm speeding towards a wall, incapable of scrambling to a stop on my skates that were far too sharp.

I shrieked, attempting to pivot on my toepick but it only sent me tumbling forward. I blanch at the realization that I was about to slam into the ice over such an amateur move.

But before I make contact with the frozen ground, hands come to my waist and pull me away from my sudden doom. I gasped, catching my breath as a figure steadied me, gliding along the ice along with me until I managed to come to a stop.

I look up to my savior only to find Azriel standing in front of me, his hands still on my waist as if we were pair skaters. Why was he so effortlessly graceful in the rink?

"Thanks," I mutter, my skates making a crisp sound as they halt against the ice.

"Don't thank me, it was my teammates who turned off the lights," He said, looking down at me, his hands still on my waist as we stood in the center of the rink with the lights shut off.

With the absence of his pads, I could feed his abdomen pressed to my chest, I had been panting from my restless jumps but he hadn't seemed affected when he saved me, like he knew I'd panic.

"Still, I can't afford to get any more bruises," I say through heavy breaths. He cracks a smile.

"I know the feeling," He hums, making no move to let go of my waist, and I'd be lying if I said he wasn't heavily supporting my tired limbs at the moment.

"Usually I'm better at stopping, I just got my blades sharpened," I explain and he arches a brow, his gaze almost amused.

"You don't have to make excuses, Princess, you could just admit you wanted to be in my arms," He taunts and I roll my eyes, pushing him away to which he glides back.

"Quit calling me that," I toss at him as I slowly make my way off the ice, returning to the solid ground as I put on the guards over the blades of my skates. Snow Princess had been my stage name when I was younger, it was my mom's choice, and I had been happy with it at the time, Azriel liked to remind me of it every waking moment he saw me, in fact, I couldn't remember the last time he called me by my actual name.

"Not in a million years, Princess," He continues his teasing and I huff, untying my laces and shucking my blades off, favoring a pair of tennis shoes that felt like walking on clouds compared to the tightness of my skates.

The lights turn back on and I look out at the rink, seeing just how much damage I did with my turns. I smile in triumph as I watch Azriel avoid the chips in the ice as he practically soars throughout the rink.

The rest of the players came out onto the ice only a moment later while I shrugged my coat on, losing interest in the others once it wasn’t just Azriel. They had all pushed him off the rink, telling him to hurry up and change so they could start practice already.

I ignore their raucous laughter and crude words as I make my way into the locker rooms, eager to get my stuff and then go home. I could already feel my legs aching with soreness and it's barely been a few minutes off the ice.

I opened my locker just as Azriel strolled in.

I hadn't known his locker had been situated directly next to mine until he opened it and took out all his pads and equipment, then, right then and there to my utter shock he began changing right in front of me.

"You know there's changing rooms, right?" I avoid looking at him, my eyes pinned straight to my locker as I clean it out, stuffing things into my bag.

"I'm in a rush," He said and I could see him shrug from my periphery. "I was too busy saving you from the wall," He remarks and I whirl to face him, then immediately regretting it because he was still shirtless.

"You didn't have to do that," I wished my words came out a little more sour but instead they trailed off, similar to how my eyes dipped from his face to his exposed skin, the cut of his abdomen, the ripples of muscle in his arms, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When my eyes meet his again, I'm also met with a stupid smirk on his lips. "Seems like you wanted me too," He teases, leaning dauntingly closer. I swallow thickly. He was so damned near I could practically feel the heat from his skin. "Seems like you want a lot more from me than just my arms wrapped around you," His gaze was entirely predatory. I swallowed thickly, heat staining my cheeks and I knew that I was blushing. "Do you want to wrap around something else?" He arched a brow and I pushed him away, my hands feeling like they were burning the moment they touched his bare skin but he stumbled back and the look of surprise on his face was priceless.

"You're such an asshole," I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

"That wasn't a no, Princess," He crooned.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that?" I frown. I could leave if I wanted to, I have my bag, I was ready. But he knew I'd rather sit here and argue with him than go home.

"I thought I told you no?" He retorts, taking a long stride forward and pinning me between him and the lockers. "It suits you," He surmised. "A stuck-up, prudish, princess," He leans closer with every word, and by the time he finished speaking his nose was nearly brushing mine. I maintained eye contact, holding my ground.

"I'm not stuck up, and I'm definitely not a prude," I cross my arms over my chest defensively.

"Is that right?" He tilts his head, his voice low. His eyes flick down to my lips, then so leisurely trail back up to my eyes.

"I'm not kissing you," I scoff, I hadn't meant to say it aloud, but now the bastard's smirk was wider.

"I don't remember saying anything about a kiss?" He taunts and I grit my teeth. “Is that what you fantasize about to help you sleep at night?”

"Oh, just shut up already.” I crash my lips onto his.

He immediately reacts to the movement, his arm wraps around my waist while his other cups my jaw, pulling me into him, not wasting a second before we have to pull away for air.

I melt into him, my cold body from the ice immediately heating as my fingers press against his bare abdomen, sliding my hand up his chest.

His hands find their way to my hips, slipping to the backs of my thighs and lifting me up, my back pressed against the lockers as my legs wrap around his torso. My arms wrap around the nape of his neck as I taste him deeper, every flick of his tongue over mine sending waves of pleasure down my spine. "We shouldn't be doing this in here," I whisper against his lips.

"I don't care," He confessed, his hands gripping the underside of my thighs tighter.

"Someone could walk in," I argue, but I don't bother pulling away.

"Are you nervous about being seen with me?" He taunts and I hit his shoulder playfully, kissing him deeply as a reply before pulling away a fraction to say,

"You're going to be late," I try to defend but I swear he could barely hear me with how drunk he was on my lips because as soon as I was done speaking his mouth was back on mine and any other words I could conjure were swallowed by his all-consuming kiss.

"You worry too much, Princess," He grumbled.

"Yo, Az!" A familiar voice shouts through the doorway of the locker room, and gods we were lucky that he had me pinned to the wall. "What's taking so long hurry up," Cassian calls, and Azriel slowly pulls away from my lips.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second," He retorts and my head slumps back against the lockers while Azriel slowly puts me back down onto my feet.

"You're lucky we didn't get caught," I glare up at him but he only returns it with a smile. He grabs his equipment bag and slings it over his shoulder.

"This," He gestures between me and him. "Isn't over, alright?" He leans in close and I only nod. He pecks my lips before leaving the locker room, the door creaking as it shuts and leaves me standing there utterly speechless.

What the hell just happened? And why did I enjoy every second of it?

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[glasskey]

Nick & June's Mixtape Vol. 5

Yep we’ve reached THAT part of our collective mix tapes where it’s time for the tears. Season 4 saw June’s homecoming and Nick’s attempt to “let her go���. Brace yourself people, even the Nick haters found 4 09 hard to take.

I should have run away with you when I had the chance

Oh boy the legendary 4 09, a moment in THT history that’s notorious for unleashing a tsunami of tears. Nick and June meet for the first time in months, at an isolated icy location, but as he steps from the shadows behind her and calls her name, her face visibly melts. Turning to face him, the sun literally breaks through the clouds.

A wide shot depicts the initial distance between them, but as always it’s quickly overcome and they gather inside, huddling together in a warm and glowing light with their child “like a real family”. Unfortunately, like all their moments of happiness, it’s tinged with the sorrow and heartache of their inevitable separation. June has come to ask Nick for some help in the unending quest to retrieve Hannah, and he’s already 10 steps ahead of her, having compiled a treasure trove of photographs and information about her daughter. “You did all this for me?” June seems stunned at Nick’s willingness to stick his neck out to help her, the ensuing look on his face speaks volumes.

If you ever have to wonder why Blaine might be willing to stick his neck in the noose for just one chance to bask in June’s literal glow, consider how cold and isolated Blaine must feel in Gilead without her. Regret pours out of Blaine “I should have run away with you when I had the chance”, but he’s deeply mistaken. Gilead and their own peaceful existence as a family cannot occur simultaneously; Nick and June are our figurative Romeo and Juliet, invented as the perfect construct to illustrate what can be lost or broken by these types of regimes, and exactly why it’s necessary to fight.

The window and the hazy golden light is a call back to S2 when Nick and June stood in Waterford’s kitchen, named their baby and dreamt of a life together. In both scenes Nick makes an affectionate quip about their daughter being like her mother, there’s an overwhelming sense of love for June as the mother of his child in these moments. This scene also contains one of the most beautiful kisses you’ll ever see on THT. Blaine pauses ever so briefly, scans her face, senses his inevitable cue and dives in. There’s a sense of uncontainable longing, passion and as they break away…..so much heartache. Gilead continuously rips these two away from one another, but the irony is had it never transpired neither would Nick and June and neither would Holly.

I’d managed to hold it together up until this point but it was the doll that finally did me in. As he danced it front of her and laughed for the first time EVER, my heart tore open like a cheap paper bag, and I swore I heard the sound of a thousand Osblaine’s hearts breaking all at once. The cruelty of Gilead feels truly visceral in this moment. As The Nature of Daylight, a composition about war tearing families apart, plays in the background, we saw a snippet of what their family could truly be….the actual price they pay every day.

Eric Tuchman gave audiences something very special with 4 09, he didn’t just write a beautiful reunion between two of our favorite characters, he drove a deep and painful point home. For every “Gilead” there are thousands and thousands of Nick and June’s; families all desperate to be reunited and finally hold their children once again.

Try to be happy

Following on from our last track, 4 09 gave us yet another classic. Sitting there bleary eyed from the buckets of tears I’d already shed, I wondered exactly how much more of the heartbreaking anguish we were expected to take? Then Nick went and upped the ante and told June to “Try and be happy” without him, and slipped THAT ring on his finger. I was so horrified, I could have set my television on fire. We had to wait until the next season to actually meet Rose, she seemed fairly innocuous, almost intentionally unthreatening.

“Would I like her?” asks June, well yes definitely, the woman had exactly zero chemistry with Blaine. Watching Nick and Rose together was like witnessing an arranged marriage in which the agreed parties were courteous and appropriately affectionate but never passionate. Nick seemed determined to be kinder to Rose than he had been to Eden, however the only evidence that anything other than a polite handshake had actually taken place was the baby in her belly. “Try to be happy” June echoes Nicks words back to him through her tears in Season 5, and it’s then for the first time since S1 that we see inside Blaine’s mind’s eye. It’s filled with the two of them alone, kissing, flooded in a blinding light.

The moment is slowed down to emphasize the depth of his desire and obsession. It’s a memory turned fantasy that tortures him constantly. The light is so bright it almost burns and as he silently hangs up the phone, we see him standing alone backlit, underscoring not only the vividness of his memory of June but also his solitariness. This was inserted to impress the intimacy of his pain at being separated from Osborne, and it mirrors perfectly June’s memory of kissing Luke in S1. As always these reflections are somewhat skewed, Here we see June cry as she feels the pain that Luke endured as he stood on that icy bridge in S3, and listened to her tape. There’s a difference here though; Nick doesn’t love Rose, and he never did.

[sturniololuvz]

You should do a fic of the triplets walking in on there’s sister and Nate going at it (like sex) and the triplets flipping out and going insane about it

yessss!

“Shattered Trust”

Sturniolos + nate x sturniolo sister

Warnings: mentions of sex, but not really , yelling 

The Sturniolo triplets had always been close with their sister, Y/N. The four of them had an unbreakable bond, and their best friend, Nate, had been around for years—practically family. They told each other everything.

Or at least, that’s what they thought.

It was a regular Friday night when Matt, Chris, and Nick came back home after filming. The house was quiet—too quiet. Normally, Y/N would be playing music, scrolling on her phone in the living room, or arguing with one of them about something stupid. But tonight? Nothing.

“Where the fuck is Y/N?” Chris muttered, tossing his keys on the counter.

Nick looked around. “I don’t know, but where’s Nate? Wasn’t he coming over?”

Matt shrugged. “Maybe they went out?”

Chris frowned. “She didn’t say shit about going anywhere.”

Something felt off. The three of them exchanged a glance before Nick sighed. “I’ll check her room.”

The second he opened the door, he stopped dead in his tracks.

There, in the dim glow of the room, was Y/N—half-dressed, tangled in sheets with Nate.

Nick’s brain short-circuited. He blinked, as if maybe, somehow, he was hallucinating. But no. It was real.

“What the fuck?” His voice was low, but filled with pure disbelief.

Y/N and Nate scrambled apart, sheer panic flashing across their faces.

Chris and Matt heard the shift in his tone and rushed over, only to freeze when they saw what he saw.

Chris’s mouth fell open before rage took over. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Matt let out a dry, humorless laugh. “No fucking way. No fucking way.”

Y/N grabbed the blanket, pulling it around herself as her face burned red. “Guys—”

Chris cut her off. “Don’t even fucking start.” His voice was shaking, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Are you seriously fucking Nate? Nate?”

Matt exhaled sharply, dragging his hands down his face. “Out of all the people in the world, it had to be him?”

Nate sat there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Guys, it’s not—”

Nick’s head snapped toward him. “Don’t even try to say it’s not what it looks like. Because it’s exactly what it fucking looks like.” His voice was dark, quieter than the others, but somehow that made it worse.

Y/N, still wrapped in the blanket, straightened her shoulders. “I don’t owe you guys an explanation.”

Chris laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “Oh, you absolutely fucking do.” He turned back to Nate, fury burning in his eyes. “Dude, you’ve been our best friend for years. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Nate swallowed hard. “Look, I didn’t plan for this to happen—”

Matt scoffed. “Oh, so you just tripped and landed in bed with our sister? That what you’re saying?”

Nick clenched his jaw, taking a step forward. “How long has this been going on?”

Y/N stayed silent.

Chris’s head tilted. “Oh, so now you have nothing to say?”

Nate sighed. “A couple months.”

Nick closed his eyes for a second, his breathing steady, but when he opened them, the betrayal hit like a brick wall. “A couple months?” he repeated, his voice quieter now.

Matt let out a breathy chuckle. “You’ve been lying to us for months?”

Y/N’s frustration boiled over. “I wasn’t lying to you. I just didn’t tell you.”

Chris shot her a sharp look. “That’s literally what lying is.”

Nate ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I should probably go—”

Matt cut him off. “Yeah. Get the fuck out.”

Nate hesitated, glancing at Y/N, but she didn’t say anything.

Nick’s stare was ice cold. “Go.”

Without another word, Nate grabbed his shoes and left the room. The sound of the front door closing echoed through the house.

Y/N’s heart pounded. “You guys are being ridiculous.”

Chris whipped around. “Are you fucking serious? Do you have any idea how fucked up this is?”

Matt shook his head, still looking at her like he couldn’t believe what just happened. “We trusted you. We trusted him.”

Nick just stood there for a second before exhaling sharply. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Chris stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Nick followed.

Matt lingered for a moment, his voice softer than before, but just as disappointed. “You should’ve told us.” Then he walked out, leaving Y/N standing alone in her room, heart racing, stomach sinking.

And for the first time, she wondered if she’d just lost them forever.

AU note : Would you like a follow-up where Y/N tries to fix things, or do you want to keep it at this dramatic cliffhanger?

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

Save Me~Hiccup x Reader fluff for anon~

Hi! Could you write pov with hiccup and reader, where reader gets captured by Viggo Grimborn and tortures her and the dragon riders are only able to find her after a week or so. And she’s rlly hurt when hiccup sees her. Just a lot of angst and later on fluff. Have a Great Day!

TW: Torture, alcohol mention, some dark!Hiccup

You didn't know how long it had been, how long you had been here. You weren't sure if it had been one day or a whole year. All you knew was pain. Every time someone came in your cell, they brought pain with them. And you didn't know how much more you could take....

The mission had been so simple. Just a scouting mission. You were to stay out of sight and report back with any info on the dragon trappers that were circling a nearby island of Gronckles. You had assured Hiccup you didn't need any backup. 20 minutes tops. That's what you told him. You'd given him a quick kiss goodbye and taken off on your dragon. After 45 had gone by, he was off on Toothless trying to find you. He followed the same path you had and discovered the ships had disappeared, along with you.

That was a week ago. Half of Berk was now out searching for you after the Dragon Riders had failed at tracking you themselves. Hiccup was frantic and had done things he wasn't proud of to try and get a smidge of information on your whereabouts. He was in a dark place and the others worried if they didn't find you soon, they would lose the two of you forever.

~~~~

The torture was constant. The pain. You often blacked out from it but the Grimborns were a persistent duo. Ryker's methods were all about brute force and you were certain your ribs were dust from the amount of punches you'd taken. He must've not been using full strength however because you weren't dead...yet.

Viggo on the other hand loved small tortures. Nicks and cut here and there that stung. Mind games that messed with you and filled you with anxiety and despair. You didn't think you were ever getting rescued. Viggo made sure to tell you there was no hope for rescue. They were covering their tracks very well and even baiting the Berkians with false leads and misdirection. You were never getting found. You were never getting saved.

~~~~

Berk was in the 2nd week of searching. Everyone was becoming more frantic, more worried that they had run out of time. Hiccup was dealing with it the worst. No matter what anyone said, no matter how they tried to comfort him, nothing could be done to ease his pain. Every lead they had followed resulted in nothing. Every trail went cold. Hiccup was starting to fear he had lost you forever. He did not want to think of how you had suffered, if you were suffering still. All because he was too slow to catch up to Viggo.

He had never been drunk in his life but lately, mead was the only thing that could distract him from finding you. Stoick worried about his son but he knew nothing he did would help. Saving you was the only way he could save his son.

He ordered everyone to double their efforts, any man or woman that could be spared was put on a search party. As he gave the orders, Stoick wondered if this wasn't Viggo's plan the whole time. Distract Berk by kidnapping the betrothed of the next Chief, and then attack while the defenses were limited. Regardless, he knew he had to do this. For Hiccup and for you.

~~~~

After endless days of searching, Hiccup finally received a glimmer of hope by way of a Terrible Terror that found it's way to Berk. Around it's leg was a piece of cloth. He recognized it as fabric torn from your sleeve. His heartbeat quickened as he recognized your writing. It was messy and hard to read but he knew it was yours. The fabric was small so your message was brief but you'd provided him coordinates to the island where the dragon hunters were hiding. He felt so stupid as it was an island the Riders had already searched. The hunters must've left and circled back once they were gone. He rounded up as many warriors as he could find and set off immediately for Dragon Graveyard Island.

~~~~

The dragons hunters locked you in a crude cage from large, thick dragon bones. They had made short work of the Boneknapper lingering on the island, forcing you to watch as they destroyed and fashioned its armor into your holding cell. The men leered at you but Viggo made sure to keep them away. You spat at him as he neared your cage. "Why don't you just kill me already? I'm never telling you anything." You glared as he gave you a sinister grin. "Because my dear, I don't need you to tell me where Hiccup and your little friends are. They are going to come to me." He sneered. You paused at that. Viggo chuckled darkly at your puzzled expression. "Did you think I didn't notice the Terrible Terror leaving your cell? The little rag around its leg? I know you sent for help. Now Hiccup is going to fall right into my trap. Not only are you the bait...but you lead them right to me. Thank you very much for your help, dear. Less work for me."

You shouted out angrily as Viggo laughed, walking back to his plans. You felt hot tears sting your face as you prayed Hiccup and the others would be okay.

~~~~

Hiccup and the Riders landed on the island. He knew something was up because it was far too quiet. The dragons sniffed the air and growled lowly. The team formed a defensive circle and crept slowly through. They finally came upon the dragon hunter camp. It was empty, save for a figure chained to a large pole in the middle. Hiccup squinted and gasped when he recognized you. Your head shot up at the approaching noise. You struggled against your chains and tried to cry out but Viggo had gagged you, preventing you from alerting the Riders. You wildly shook your head and tried to motion for them to leave but it was too late. The hunters sprang from every corner, off every cliff, and from behind every rock. You cried out and yanked painfully against your chains but it didn't matter. Your friends were quickly overtaken, their dragons caught in nets and bound. Viggo grabbed you and hauled you to your feet. You grunted as he gripped your face and forced you to watch your friends being tied up and smacked around. "All thanks to you, Y/N. Very good." He taunted.

Suddenly loud roars filled the air. You all looked up to see Stoick leading the Berkians on dragons. The hunters began to panic and quickly started to retreat. Viggo yelled after them, calling them cowards and threatening them. You watched Stoick free your friends and then charge straight for Viggo, Hiccup right behind him. The others freed your dragons and quickly join in chasing away the hunters. Ryker ran up to Viggo and gripped his arm. "We're out numbered here, Viggo. Leave the little bitch and let's go!" He growled. Viggo cursed and shoved you towards Stoick before turning and taking off with his brother. Stoick caught you easily and sat you down. "Are you alright, lass?" He asked as he freed you, concern in his eyes. You nodded tiredly and collapsed against his large chest. Hiccup slid to the ground next to you as his father gently passed you into his arms. Stoick stood. "Take her back home, son. We have to follow Viggo." He ordered. Hiccup nodded as his father barked orders for a team to escort your friends back home and another team to follow him as they tracked the Grimborns.

Hiccup carried you and sat you gently on Toothless, sitting on his back behind you. Your own dragon, very weak and unable to fly, was carried on a makeshift hammock by two bigger dragons. You relaxed into Hiccup's chest as Toothless began to fly home. You felt him press a gentle kiss to your temple. "It's gonna be okay, Y/N. You're safe now. I promise I'll take care of you."

Your eyes grew heavy and you leaned into Hiccup's arms as you finally felt peace enough to sleep. You heard him say "I love you" before drifting off, finally safe.

[sturniozo]

Tutor

Chris x reader

Summary - Chris needs to get his grades up to be able to stay on his schools hockey team, and who better to tutor him than his brothers best friend, who he also has a little crush on.

AN: I want this to be a series but that all depends on how this first part goes over. I didn’t want to write something really long just for it to flop lol so that’s why this is so short lol. But please tell me if you like it so I know whether or not to put out more of it! Xoxo-Angel

masterlist

NOT PROOFREAD

Y/n’s pov

I’ve known Nick for 5 years, and Chris only 4. I never did hang around Chris one on one, I just mostly hung out with Nick. But I knew enough about Chris to know I liked him.

I was always too nervous to hang around Chris one on one. Just being in a room with him at all made my heart race. I could barely think around him sometimes.

I knew his grades weren’t the best either. So it came to no surprise to me when Nick was begging me to tutor Chris so he’d shut up about not being able to play hockey anymore. I still don’t know why I agreed.

I don’t want to sound conceded, but I understand why Nick went to me. I know I’m smart, I have perfect grades, I’m in AP classes, as well as having skipped a grade and I’m on track to graduate two years earlier than most people do. But I was still stupid enough to agree to tutor a guy I could barely even form words around. How am I supposed to tutor Chris if I can’t even breathe near him?

So here I am, pacing in my room. Going over my notes for the classes Chris is failing, which is basically all of them. He’s going to be here any minute. I made sure my bedroom was nice and neatly cleaned, and that my notes were organized and readable. Then I hear the dreaded knock on my door.

I walk down the stairs and to my front door. I open the door and am greeted by Chris. Butterflies flood my stomach. Chris smiles at me and holds up a flower. Butterflies part two.

“What’s this for?” I ask, trying to suppress the blush creeping up on my cheeks. Chris shrugs.

“It’s a thank you. For tutoring me.” He says. I step to the side so he can come into my home and I close the door behind him.

“It’s mostly for Nick. He kept begging me.” I reply and lead him upstairs to my bedroom. I sit down at my desk and motion him to sit in the seat next to me. Once he does I pull out the notes. “Okay, what class do you want to start with?” I ask. Chris shrugs. I look at him, and notice he didn’t bring any notes or textbooks of his own. “Where’s your stuff?” I ask.

“What stuff?”

“Your school stuff. Your notes, your textbooks.”

“I don’t have any.”

“What?” I ask, shocked. “Why don’t you have any?”

Chris shrugs again. “I never needed them.”

“I think we just found out how you’re failing.” I pull out the notes from our algebra class. “Okay so the next algebra test is on Friday, which means we have about a week to get you prepared for- are you even listing?” I look over at Chris and he’s smiling at his phone. “Chris did you hear anything I said?”

Chris looks up at me. “Sorry I got distracted, what did you say?”

“This isn’t going to work if you don’t pay attention.”

“I’m trying to. This is just boring.”

“You aren’t trying very hard.”

“No, you’re right I’m not. Let’s blow this off and go do something else.” Chris looks at me and smiles, waiting for my answer.

“What, are you serious?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“You want to leave?”

“Yeah. Can you drive? I walked here.” Chris starts to stand up.

“Chris you can’t go, you’re failing almost all your classes. You’ll be off the hockey team.” I remind him.

“I’ll get the test answers from a kid at school. C’mon let’s go. I want Subway.” He ushers me to get up.

“You can’t cheat, Chris!”

“Sure I can, let’s go! Isn’t subway your favorite?”

How did he know that? “Well… it is but Chris we-“

“How about, we go get subway, then we come back and study?”

“Subway, then you’ll definitely study?” I ask. Chris nods. I bite my lip and sigh. “Fine. Let’s go.”

[nellie-elizabeth]

The Handmaid's Tale: Shattered (6x07)

This was... a singularly frustrating experience, I'm not going to lie. I didn't hate everything indiscriminately, but I was having such a hard time with a lot of what happened here. I'm going to try and untangle some of that.

Cons:

So, the Nick thing. The Nick thing. Ahem. Last week I worried that we were going to be asked by the show's framing itself to be anti-Nick after this, and what we got was such a weird version of that playing out. Here's the thing: Nick doing what he did, it had really bad consequences, and it would totally track for June to be mad at him for it, maybe even think that she hated him. But rationally, Nick is right that this isn't some sort of singular breaking point that's worse than all the other shit the two of them have pulled over the years. And I think the show wants me to believe that Nick is Bad Now because of this, and I just... I don't? I kept thinking about all the ways I could have bought into this more. One avenue would be to do an actual corruption arc for Nick, gradually over time. Show him actually liking the perks of being a Commander, show him enjoying having power, even if he doesn't agree with everything. But we never saw that. He's always been uncomfortable and terrified in Gilead. Another option, have his father-in-law have more explicit proof about the death of those two guards, that could point a finger at Nick, and have Nick explain to June that if he hadn't given up the plan, once the bombs went off Nick would be put on the wall for it if there were any survivors at all.

The framing of this whole scenario, the way June is processing it as this abject, unforgivable betrayal, all the bullshit about "I trusted him for so long that I forgot who he was" like... what do you mean, June? You forgot what, exactly? He's just trying to fucking survive in there. And Lawrence pissed me off saying that June was stupid to trust him all along, because again: footage not fucking found, Joseph. He's actually been incredibly trustworthy and done everything that's been asked of him, putting himself at more and more risk every time, and then when he was backed into a corner he found a way to get himself out of it. The consequences suck, yes, but this isn't some heel turn, and it was bizarre how the characters surrounding it treated it as if it was.

And don't get me started on Luke, calling Nick a Nazi, being all self-righteous and going off on June about the Nick situation. Once again I found myself thinking, well, if this show were going to develop and resolve these elements properly, this sign of simmering anger and resentment from Luke would be the downfall of their marriage at last. June would realize that being scolded back to back by Nick and Luke both, that Nick was the one who had a valid point, whereas Luke basically does not. But instead, it seems like the show wants to frame Luke as the objectively correct one in this scenario, and June has to apologize to him for everything.

I don't want to harp on too long, but it just felt like if this was the direction you wanted the story to go, it was such a weird way to handle it. Like, what was that scene with Nick and Rita? He's just a pouty little baby now? Is this a way to engender our sympathy, or to make us hate him? I literally couldn't tell, because it just didn't feel like the character we know.

I hate to say this, because I don't want Janine to die, but honestly if she had it would be a stronger emotional anchor for why June is in this headspace now, this idea that Nick is "unforgivable." Because it's not his fault all those women were killed, but if Janine had died, June having the irrational feeling that it was all on Nick would track a lot better, since that's a personal friend and someone she feels so much protective instinct for.

I also want to do a bit of eye-rolling about Serena. I feel like they have a charismatic actor who can imbue her performances with a lot of nuance and depth, and then a script that doesn't actually keep up with who the fuck this woman is supposed to be? Like, June says that Serena's narcissism is going to be the downfall of Gilead. Is that accurate? Is Serena not a True Believer but in fact just power-hungry? I mean, okay, I guess, but that doesn't exactly track consistently through the show. And that scene with the other wives was so weird, like she was trying to bring feminism to them. They're all saying "well, my husband thinks..." and then Serena is like "but what do YOU think" and it's just a little... like... girl, this is all far too little far too late. It's actually blood-boiling to hear her considering the Handmaid's fates now, baffled that these other women don't seem to give a shit, when it's like... Serena! You fucking helped set this shit in motion, and you're only now considering the broader consequences? I don't know what the show wants me to think about this character. Is she going to die in a fiery explosion on her wedding day? Is she going to discover the plot and then learn that her husband sucks and then do a last minute reversal and help May Day pull off the revolution? Both seem equally likely with what they've given us so far, and that's not a compliment. I don't understand her.

A smaller point that I want to make sure I address is that it feels like Moira has been totally wasted this season as a character. It's like they don't know what to do with her, she has to follow around in June's shadow and be pulled into her wake, and that's about it. Sure, we know she feels resentment, we saw that last episode with their fight. But here she is again, following June back into Gilead and then asking June to be the leader and give her inspiring words. I don't know structurally what should have been going on with Moira this season, but it feels like they just kinda stuck her into the sides of things to see if she'd fit, and it's a bummer.

Pros:

Okay, well, I think I need to go back to what I've been saying all season, which is that there are a lot of talented performers in this show who can really lock into some great dynamic moments. Bad architecture, good gargoyles. So if I can set aside the broader context that's bugging me so much, I can highlight some performance moments that I did like.

For one, I like that June didn't yell and scream at Nick, she was kind of cold and numb as she processed what had happened. She was a lot more hurt than she was angry, and I did like that in concept, like, the way it clashed with the May Day people when she gets back and she has to tell them that it's her fault the information leaked. She has to bear their understandable anger, and all the while she feels like she's grieving a breakup. And I like that Nick at least said his piece a little bit, reminding June of all the shit that she's taken for granted, seemingly. He's absolutely right that she's used his role as a Commander to suit her without ever grappling fully with the reality of that. I wish that I trusted the show to develop this idea more fully and have June realize that he's absolutely right, but I don't think that's going to happen.

I like that Lawrence is here to help, because honestly it tracks for his character that he'd only be motivated by his own well-being to do something this extreme, but he's been so uncomfortable and so unhappy in the world he created for so long, you do believe he'd find it worthwhile to tear it down if he can do so without incurring too much risk. It makes sense that we've finally reached his tipping point.

Janine... Jesus Christ. The moment where she comes to the window and Lydia sees her beaten black and blue... it's almost cartoonishly over the top, how much of a villain Bell is, but that small moment of Janine making herself known to Lydia was interesting to me. Was that Janine reaching out in the only way she could to ask for help or to form a connection with someone who, however fucked up it may be, seems to care for her? Or was that Janine's one and only way of telling Lydia: "I fucking told you so." Or was it both? I do like the nuance there. And I like that Nick tells June he's going to try and find out about Janine, and that Lawrence delivers the news to June about her being alive, it's such a weird network of secret-keepers.

I think that's about it for things I liked? I don't know. I wasn't miserable watching this episode, but I wasn't pleased either. This feels like the setup for an endgame that is probably mostly going to annoy me. And that's too bad, because I want a show like this to end in a way that feels big and bold. I'd rather they strike out trying something insane rather than trip and just sort of fall over the finish line. The latter is what I'm concerned is going to happen here. But I guess we'll have to wait and see.

5/10