#she was like yeah I did that on purpose for you exclusively

[jewish-vents]

Apologizing in advance because this might get you in hot water or start discourse because the person I'm venting about is a person who got insanely popular for (((you know. reasons.))) but I can't keep it to myself I am so tired. I am so fucking tired. I'm so tired of half the jumblr blogs I follow bending over backwards to defend this one lebanese blogger who calls all the Jews she doesn't like "fascists", uses "zionist" as a slur despite this not being a gentile's word to throw around for derogatory purposes, defending every vile thing that comes out of her mouth about Jews because she's young so apparently it's ok to be antisemitic if you're not old or something. Many of these same people would say Jews or Israelis have no right to feel radicalized or even angry by the thorough, disgusting demonization we keep facing on the internet, and if we dare say so much as "the Ottoman empire/Islamic expansion of the 7th century is a form of colonialism too" then these jumblr blogs immediately label us evil Islamophobes or whatever. I've just turned 16 years old and my family is all Iraqi. Soon enough people will be publicly calling for my rape and murder because I'll be in the IDF. People who have never, EVER had that same energy towards Russian Soldiers (and if you don't care about Ukraine, Imagine I refer exclusively to Russian air force members who specifically bombed refugee camps and hospitals in Syria, where, surprise surprise, thousands of the victims were also Palestinians). Oh but none of you have the energy to call them names because they're not Jews, and Russia is big and scary to you so you'll never speak up against it!

People want me dead if I say anything about hypocrisy or how tired I am of being treated like this is Germany in early 1939 every time someone finds out I'm a Jew online. People will call me a white colonizer Karen. Interesting. Do you call other Iraqi people white, or just the ones who descended from the Jews who had to leave to stay alive? And what the fuck did I colonize exactly? I'm so fucking sorry that my grandparents and their parents were kicked out of the only country they knew and no other country in the WORLD would accept them except Israel because they were brown Jews. I know a lot of people would prefer if my grandparents - who were little kids at the time - were killed, so there'd be a few less (((colonizers))) in Israel. People always talk about "well I still have my grandparents' deed to this house someplace Israel took from me therefore it should be mine" and everyone just agrees. Well where's your advocacy for MY rights to reclaim my property in Basra and Baghdad? Where's your advocacy for other Jews who barely escaped with their lives as their property was stolen? Oh that one doesn't matter, right? because those (((evil))) Jews got what was coming to them, right?

But go on. I'm SO glad you're all defending another run of the mill antisemite who minimizes Jewish experience and Jewish pain, whose religion did literally just as much damage to our people as christianity did, colonized just as much land and killed just as many natives as christianity did, and destroyed our holy sites just as much as the Romans did. People like her are allowed to be as vile as they want to Jews and the most baffling part is that OTHER JEWS will trip over themselves running to defend her because "oh she's literally just a little baby!" (even though she's an adult woman) and if actual underaged kids like me complain that we've been getting harassed and threatened with rape by adults because of our ethnicity, to those jumblr bloggers who I assumed would be on my side, it might be a little bit sad, yeah, but it's not nearly as tragic as someone being slightly mean to a lebanese person whose religion is actually demographically significant in the world. because, you know. Jews, Jewish lives, Jewish existence and Jewish safety mean fuck all to both most Christians AND most Muslims. All that most of them want to do is convert us, kill us, or do both. People can go ahead and clutch their pearls about me saying that as much as they want, all of it is still true. These are BOTH messianic religions concerned with spreading by any means and converting as many people as possible, and I'm tired of this website acting as if christianity is somehow horrible beyond any hope of changing while islam is good and pure and never harmed anyone or whatever. No. BOTH of them did irreparable damage to every minority group they came into contact with.

All the while ignoring every other ethnic cleansing and genocide perpetrated anywhere in the world, right now in 2025, because those ones are perpetrated by Christians, Muslims, and the "good" and "benevolent" Communists in China. All those MILLIONS of people dead? don't mean shit. Because they're not as sexy as saying "look! Jews bad!" and patting yourself on the back for being a *good* Jew who agrees with an adult lebanese woman about how all Jewish kids who are angry at being treated like garbage for their ethnicity are fascists, while she, an actual antisemite, keeps getting patted on the back for "working against biases she held her entire life". Newsflash assholes, me, my friends, and kids like us have been working just as hard to unlearn our own biases, too, and we are still literal kids! Kids whose entire families grew up traumatized from the horrid way they were treated BEFORE they even came to Israel, just because they were Jewish, just because they weren't good enough, just because "well you're a sneaky Jew so you must be hiding something, right?" But even Jews on tumblr don't give us the same grace. I wonder why that is. Maybe the horseshoe is just a circle at this point. I don't know.

.

[rotisseries]

i want to get around to reading all the bsd light novels but I have separation anxiety in regards to atsushi and can't consume a piece of bsd media if he isn't there so I keep thinking "hmm well i guess i should read dead apple next" when I know that makes no fucking sense there's literally an entire movie that I have seen that covers that plot exactly already and in fact the ln is just a novelization of the movie. i just don't want to acknowledge that my only options now are light novels without him in it

[sluttywonwoo]

make 'em sweat

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f reader

summary: introducing you to his friends doesn't go quite the way wonwoo expected (title from water by seventeen ; technically a sequel to fuck the neighbors but can be read as a standalone)

warnings: swearing, angst, "what are we" discussion, self-degradation, mingyu is canonically a whore pt deux, jealousy, smut (mdni)

smut warnings: discussions of reader's sexual past, sub!wonwoo in a flashback, public-ish sex, light exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected sex, massive cock!wonwoo, reader is lowkey a size queen lol, choking, creampie, cum eating

word count: 6.1k

You’re bringing your girlfriend to Jihoon’s birthday, right?”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his roommate even though his back is turned to him. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Mingyu gives an equally exasperated huff in return. “What would you call her then? She’s obviously more than just a friend. It doesn’t matter whether you’re at her place or ours, I can still hear you two going at it like animals practically every night.” 

“We’re just repaying the favor,” Wonwoo scoffs before turning defensive. “We’re… figuring things out right now.”

“You’ve been ‘figuring things out’ for months, bro. When are you going to just get the balls to ask her to be exclusive?” 

“We are exclusive,” he insists. 

It’s at least true on Wonwoo’s side. He wasn’t seeing anyone else. In fact, he’d told you as much when you casually asked if he was sleeping with anyone else one night after a few rounds in bed. He answered honestly, saying no and asking you the same. You also told him no, but you did put an emphasis on “I’m not sleeping with anyone else”, whatever that meant. It only caused Wonwoo a little bit of anxiety every time he relived that conversation in his head, trying to piece together what you could have been trying to imply. 

“You do like her, right?” Mingyu presses.

Wonwoo sighs. “You know I do. There’s no point in lying to you.”

“Then lock it down! She won’t wait forever.” 

“How do you know that’s even something she wants?”

“Because if all she wanted was sex, she wouldn’t sleep over when her own bed is right next door.”

“Flimsy evidence, at best. Wouldn’t hold up in court.”

“Do you want me to provide more examples?”

Wonwoo surrenders. “Fine, maybe I’m a coward. I just like what we have going on right now. I don’t want it to change if we put a label on it.”

Mingyu purses his lips. He looks like he wants to say more but decides against it. 

“Are you bringing her or not?” is what he says finally. “Soonyoung’s trying to get a headcount.” 

“Yeah, she’s coming,” Wonwoo concedes.

“You know, you could have just said yes when I asked and we would’ve avoided this whole ordeal.”

Wonwoo decides to change the subject. “Are you bringing anyone?”

His best friend shrugs. “I don’t know yet.” Figures. “I told Soon to put me down for a plus-one just in case.”

Mingyu ignores the snort that he gets as a response and finishes whatever text he’d drafted to Soonyoung. He joins Wonwoo on their couch and reclines with his arms stretched across the back. 

“Do you think they’ll scare her away?” he asks. 

“The guys?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’ve never brought a girl around. They’re going to be all over you two the whole night.”

Wonwoo cocks his head to the side as he considers it. “They can be a little intense but it’s nothing she can’t handle.” 

Mingyu shrugs. “Throwing her to the wolves before making it official, respect.”

Wonwoo isn’t sure if Mingyu is trying to sike him out on purpose or not but either way it was starting to work. He isn’t keen on sharing you, especially when you’re not his to share. It’s too late to change his mind, though. He already invited you, it wasn’t like he could take it back now. Not without looking like a total asshole. 

“It’s just one night,” Wonwoo says, trying to convince both his roommate and himself, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

-

Wonwoo hears Mingyu answer the door at six o’clock on the dot. Living next door to each other made it easy to be punctual, although admittedly Wonwoo did sometimes lose track of time when he was gaming- but he was trying to be better about it! 

“Hey, you,” Mingyu says in greeting. “You look great.”

“So do you,” you reply. “Where’s Wonwoo? Did he ditch me already?”

There was his cue. He would’ve been the one to meet you at the door but he was still getting dressed when you knocked. He didn’t usually have to put much thought into what he wore so having to find an outfit that fit a theme was somewhat uncharted territory. He steps out into the living room with a black tank halfway over his shoulders, pulling it down all the way to his waistband as crosses the room to greet you with a hug. 

“No need to put a shirt on for me,” you say cheekily. 

Wonwoo feels his cheeks flush under both you and Mingyu’s gazes but he decides he can’t go down without a fight.

“This is for your benefit,” he quips. “We have to get to Jihoon’s on time. Didn’t want to distract you, you know.”

“So courteous,” you scoff. 

“Always a gentleman.”

You look like you want to disagree but with Mingyu standing right there already looking vaguely uncomfortable, you don’t. 

“You look nice,” he adds, suddenly remembering the sort of thing kinda-boyfriends are supposed to say to their kinda-girlfriends. 

You look more than nice, you look... incredible. But Wonwoo’s brain can’t think of any more effusive adjectives at present on account of just how incredible you look.

Soonyoung had said that the dress code for his roommate’s birthday was “red”, and that if you showed up in any other color you’d be turned away at the door, not allowed to join the festivities until you went home and changed. Wonwoo had relayed this information to you and you followed through, showing up in a short black skirt and a red leather... bustier? Corset? Wonwoo didn’t know what it was called but it was red and tight and laced up in the back. 

“So do you,” you reply sweetly, running a hand down the front of Wonwoo’s shirt, “but your friend is going to kick you out.”

“Right.” 

Wonwoo detaches himself from you and darts back to his room to grab the red leather jacket that was hanging on the back of his desk chair. It was just a coincidence that you had both decided to wear leather but it made Wonwoo secretly happy to know you’d be matching all night. 

“Almost forgot,” he explains when he reemerges with the jacket on. 

“Are we ready to go?” Mingyu asks. “Soonyoung is going to bitch at us for a week if we’re later than ten minutes.”

“We’re making good time,” Wonwoo assures him. 

“We don’t know what the traffic situation is going to be like! And maybe the taxi guy’s a slow driver-- it’s better to leave earlier just in case.”

Wonwoo sighs and places a hand on the small of your back to urge you forward. “Okay, okay, we’re going.”

He sees you suppress a smile behind your hand which makes him grin too but he turns his head so that you and Mingyu won’t see. 

Mingyu reaches the door first and holds it open for you to pass through before both of them but Wonwoo stops you by grabbing your hand. 

“Wait, are you going to be cold?” 

“I have a jacket,” you tell him. 

He looks you up and down in confusion. You’re not wearing a jacket and all you have in your free hand is a clutch. 

“Where?”

You let go of his hand and tug on one side of his own jacket. “Right here.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “Of course.”

“The car’s downstairs,” Mingyu huffs impatiently. 

“Chill out, white rabbit. They’re not not going to leave us.”

“White rabbit?” you ask as they follow you out into the hallway. 

“Yeah, you know the one that’s got the pocket watch from Alice in Wonderland?” 

“That’s kind of a random reference.”

“I’m well-read.”

“Isn’t that a children’s book?” Mingyu chimes in.

“No more questions.”

-

You get squished in between Wonwoo and Mingyu in the backseat of the cab. They both try to make themselves smaller to give you more space but they’re just so tall that their efforts are mostly in vain. 

“How much do I owe you for this?” you ask Mingyu, pulling your phone out to transfer your share to him. 

He shrugs you off. “Don’t worry about it. Your, um, Wonwoo’s covering yours.”

Wonwoo reaches over and locks your phone before you can start to type in his information. “Don’t.”

“But-”

“Don’t make me block your number. I’ll do it.”

You pout and fold your arms across your chest in defeat, prompting Mingyu to jump in and change the subject. 

“Are you nervous?”

“A little,” you admit. “It sounds like there are a lot of them. I just don’t want to mix anyone up.”

“We’re a big group,” Mingyu agrees almost apologetically.

“They won’t mind if you do get them mixed up at first,” Wonwoo promises. 

“Except for Chan and Seungkwan.”

Wonwoo shoots Mingyu a look as you sink further in your seat. He clumsily attempts to do some damage control. 

“You already know Wonwoo and I. We’ll have your back.”

You nod but Wonwoo can still sense your apprehension. He puts a hand on your knee to try to comfort you, only to feel you tense up underneath his touch. Now you’re both anxious. 

-

The three of you get to Jihoon and Soonyoung’s pretty much right on time despite Mingyu’s worries. Jihoon’s the one to answer the door with his roommate right on his heels. 

“Happy birthday!” you all chorus as he ushers you inside. 

Wonwoo and Mingyu shove presents into his arms while you stand behind them timidly. 

When it’s your turn, you step up and offer the envelope you’d stashed in your clutch. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I hope cash is okay,” you tell Jihoon. 

Wonwoo had no idea you had even got him a card. You probably didn’t tell him because you knew he’d insist on adding your name to his gift instead.

“Please, you didn’t have to get me anything!” Jihoon gushes. 

“I wasn’t about to show up empty-handed!”

He smiles and lays the card on top of the other gifts in his hand. “Well, thank you. Please, make yourself at home! I’ve got to go put these with the others. There are drinks in the kitchen but I’m sure Wonwoo will make you one if you ask.”

He winks at Wonwoo as he walks off with his roommate, leaving the three of you alone once again- or the two of you. Mingyu had disappeared as well, without a word. Classic. 

“I think that went well,” you whisper to Wonwoo as he guides you through the apartment by the hand. 

“That’s an understatement. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jihoon be that friendly to a stranger.”

“I must be special,” you muse jokingly.

“Another understatement,” Wonwoo agrees under his breath. 

-

Wonwoo clumsily mixes you both a drink in the kitchen, pouring shots of vodka into plastic cups along with Sprite and grenadine to match the theme. Mixology isn’t his strong suit, neither are most activities that involve food and/or drink preparation for that matter, but the dirty Shirleys are palatable at the very least so he counts it as a win. 

You sip yours appreciatively with a little grin that tells him you’re pleased and he has to push down the swell of pride in his chest that urges him to kiss you in the middle of the crowded room you’re standing in. 

With drinks in hand, he leads you back into the living room to start introducing you to more of his friends. 

You’re a hit with everyone, of course. Seungkwan falls in love with you instantly. The guys don’t indulge his yapping as much as they probably should so when he notices you’re hanging on to his every word, he takes advantage. He would have likely talked your ear off all night long if Wonwoo hadn’t whisked you away to meet some of the others. 

Seokmin, Junhui, and Vernon are in the middle of a game of beer pong when Wonwoo drags you over to them. It’s two against one- Seok and Jun versus Vernon and somehow Vernon is winning. You watch from the sidelines as they play. All three of them are too distracted by their match to hold a true conversation with you but Wonwoo can tell that they like you and are eager to impress you by winning the game. They even protest when Wonwoo tries to pull you away to meet more people. 

“That’s not fair, she has to see who wins!”

“Yeah, you can’t take her away now!”

“You sound like children,” Wonwoo chides. 

He concedes, though, and you stay until the game ends. Jun and Seokmin manage to pull off the win, jeering poor Vernon as he chugs the last cup of beer with his middle finger directed at the other two. 

It was all going so well, until Wonwoo presents you to Jeonghan and Chan. They’re standing in a corner away from the rest of the party, whispering in each other’s ears about God knows what. 

Wonwoo gets their attention by clearing his throat and stepping aside to reveal you. He’s so preoccupied with introducing everyone that he misses the way Jeonghan’s eyes flicker with recognition when they land on you. He also misses the same look in your eyes. 

Jeonghan addresses you directly, completely subverting Wonwoo and cutting off Chan who had opened his mouth to say hello to you. 

“I didn’t know you guys were together.”

“We’re not together,” you clarify quickly, driving a knife right in between Wonwoo’s ribs. 

It’s his fault. He’s the one who’s been too much of a pussy to ask you out officially. But did you have to answer so fast? And so confidently?

“Oh,” Jeonghan murmurs. 

He looks unsure of what to make of the two of you and he’s still only looking at you... wait-

“You... know each other?” Wonwoo asks as it finally clicks. 

“Yeah, we used to f-” Jeonghan stops mid-sentence, tilting his head in confusion. 

Wonwoo follows his gaze to you who had started furiously shaking your head and motioning for him to shut up. 

“Ahem, nevermind.”

Wonwoo suddenly remembers a conversation he had with Jeonghan several months ago. It was at a party a lot like this one. All of the guys were gathered around a fire pit catching up and Soonyoung bugged Jeonghan to spill about the girl he was seeing at the time. 

Jeonghan brushed it off as nothing serious but he did make sure to note that it was, “the best sex I’ve ever had,” which led to a bunch of jeering shouts from the rest of the boys, Wonwoo included. 

“If it’s that good, why don’t you want to be exclusive?” someone, he thinks Minghao, asked. 

Jeonghan shrugged. “Neither of us feel ready for that. She’s kind of hung up on an ex and I don’t have the time to commit.”

“Or the emotional capability,” another one called out.

“Shut the fuck up. Maybe it’ll go there one day but for now... it’s just for fun.”

The memory burns in the back of Wonwoo’s throat. He blinks the image of you underneath his friend away and clears his throat. He’s jumping to conclusions. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe it hadn’t been you Jeonghan was talking about. Maybe the f-word he had been about to say was... “farm” or “frolic”?

“So how do you know each other?” his voice breaks as he asks the question but he barely notices. 

Jeonghan gives you a look as if to say, do you want to tell him or should I. You sigh and turn to face Wonwoo.

“We used to hook up,” you admit.

“Oh, cool.”

Cool? Cool? What kind of response was that? That’s not the kind of thing you say after finding out the girl you want to be your girlfriend used to bang one of your best friends. 

It shouldn’t be a big deal. He didn’t know you back then. It’s been months since. This sort of thing happens to people all the time. Right?

“Wonwoo, are you okay?” It’s Chan that snaps him out of his spiral this time. Wonwoo had honestly forgotten that he was standing there too. 

“Yeah, fine.”

No one is convinced. 

“Are you sure?” you ask him quietly. “Do you want to go talk about it somewhere more private?”

That’s the last thing Wonwoo wants to do right now. He knows he’ll have to confront this sooner or later but he’d rather it be later. Much later.

“I’m sure,” he assures you. “It’s not a big deal.” 

You look relieved which comforts him at least a little bit but not nearly enough.

“Does anyone else want another drink?” Chan asks, breaking the silence again. 

No one does but he uses the excuse of getting himself one to dip from the conversation, leaving you, Jeonghan, and Wonwoo to simmer in awkward tension by yourselves. 

You’re the first to speak once he’s gone. “If you have any questions, you can ask us.”

Jeonghan flinches at the “us”  like he hadn’t been expecting you to volunteer his input, probably because he hadn’t been, but nods reluctantly, avoiding eye contact with Wonwoo. 

“I’ll let you know if I think of any,” Wonwoo mutters. 

In reality, he has a lot of questions. None of which he’s sure he wants to hear the answers to or ask in front of Jeonghan. 

“So uh, how have you been?” Jeonghan asks. 

“I’ve been good!” you tell him as you grab Wonwoo’s hand and squeeze it. “Really good.”

Jeonghan grins. “You look good.” 

It’s an innocuous comment but it causes Wonwoo’s heart rate to spike once again. 

“You both do,” Jeonghan amends when he notices his friend’s reaction. 

“So do you. Your hair’s gotten long.” 

“I’ve been growing it out. You like it?”

“I do, yeah. It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Jeonghan bites his lip as he says it, either to keep from laughing or smirking, and you smile in turn, which makes Wonwoo's eye twitch imperceptibly (he hopes).

Suddenly, Seungkwan appears from out of nowhere and Wonwoo's almost relieved until he opens his mouth.

"Mingyu's looking for you. He wants you to be his partner for pong."

"I'm a little busy," Wonwoo mutters. The last thing he wants to do is leave you alone with Jeonghan after what he had just learned.

"You know he's just going to keep bugging you until you give in," Seungkwan sighs.

"You should go play," you chime in encouragingly. "I'll be fine."  

Seungkwan takes Wonwoo by the arm and begins to drag him toward the other room. "The faster you win, the faster you can come back to her," he says.

It's supposed to make him feel better but it doesn't. He's famously terrible at games that involve coordination. It could be hours before he makes it back to you and that's IF Jeonghan hasn't charmed his way back into your pants by then. He turns his head to look back at you just before Seungkwan pulls him through the doorway just to see you laughing at something Jeonghan's said. He has half a mind to wrestle himself out of Seungkwan's grasp and march back over there to get in between the two of you but that wouldn't fit into his already very unconvincing "playing it cool" thing he's trying to pull off.

Fortunately, they win after just two rounds. He barely hugs Mingyu in celebration before he peels off to find you. You aren't in the same corner you had been when he left so he has to check a few more places before finally stumbling across you in the kitchen. Jeonghan's nowhere in sight, thankfully. Wonwoo doesn't care where he's fucked off to as long as it's not with you.

"There you are," Wonwoo says, getting your attention immediately.

"Got thirsty," you explain, showing him your empty cup. "Want one?"

"Only if it's as good as the one I made you earlier."

You scoff. "A high bar to clear."

"I believe in you."

He approaches you from behind as you mix the drinks, running his fingers along the small strip of your back your outfit left exposed. You shiver but neither of you comment on it, quiet until you hand Wonwoo his cup and offer yours to cheers with. You watch his expression as he lifts the cup to his lips.

"So?"

He doesn't want to admit yours is better than his even though the difference is obvious. It's another dirty Shirley but the one you made is smoother, evidently poured with a much lighter hand.

"It's okay," he bluffs.

You shove him lightly, enough to make him rock back on his heels. "Shut the fuck up."

"Or what?" he challenges.

"Or I'll tie you up. Again."

Wonwoo feels his throat get tight. “That was a one-time thing!”

“You keep saying that but you sure seemed to like it in the moment.”

You had him there. He did like it. He liked it a lot, in fact- maybe too much. Even thinking about it now, the way you straddled him, the way the rope bit into his wrists when he pulled against his restraints... his cheeks get hot before he can shake the thoughts from his mind. 

“You’re blushing,” you point out. “You did like it”

His shy smile falls as he abruptly wonders if you’ve ever done the same thing to Jeonghan. He pictures Jeonghan in his place, the memories replacing his body underneath you with that of his friend. He sees Jeonghan kissing you, chasing your lips when you pull away. He sees the sweat on his brow, the determined set of his jaw. 

All of the questions he didn’t want to confront earlier douse him like a bucket of ice water. Was Jeonghan a better lover? Would he be a better boyfriend? Who was big-

“Wonwoo, are you okay?” 

Your voice, the thing that usually brings Wonwoo back down to earth, isn’t what breaks the spell this time. It’s the expression on your face when he looks down at you.

“Not really,” he admits. 

You lay a hand over his. “Do you want to get out of here? We can leave.”

“In a bit. Follow me.”

He leads you back through the house, up the stairs to where he knows no one else will be. He briefly considers pulling you into one of the bedrooms but thinks better of it, knowing neither of his friends would appreciate what he plans to do to you happening on their beds. 

There’s a bathroom across the hall from the bedrooms that he chooses instead, holding the door open to let you in first. 

The gentlemanly gesture is immediately canceled out as soon as the door shuts, though, as he pushes your back up against it and starts to kiss you. 

You reciprocate, thankfully. Your lips part almost immediately to let his tongue explore your mouth. He feels the tug of your hands clutching his jacket, pulling him in closer. He lets you, pressing his body to yours so you can feel exactly what you do to him. 

He’s the first to break the kiss but he only does so that he can move down to your neck. You tilt your head to give him better access, moaning under your breath when he begins to suck on a spot just below your jaw.  

"W-where's this coming from?" you ask, breathless.

"I've wanted you all night," Wonwoo explains, brushing it off. It’s not a lie, but it isn’t the full truth either and he suspects you know that. Still, he wishes you would just let it go and lose yourself in him the way he was trying to in you. 

“I’ve just... never seen you like this,” you say. 

“Like what?” 

“So desperate.”

Wonwoo stops. He lifts his head to finally make eye contact with you, detaching himself from your person. You look like you want to protest but you don’t. You let him go, watching as  he takes a step back and considers what you’ve said. You cross your arms over your chest, closing yourself off to him. 

“It’s Jeonghan, isn’t it?” He sighs, which is all the confirmation you need. "Shouldn't we talk about it?"

“What is there to talk about?”

“You tell me. It obviously bothers you.”

The words escape him for what feels like the thousandth time. The shame that he had been pushing down all night creeps up the back of his neck like fire chasing a trail of gasoline, burning hot, the smoke filling his lungs and threatening to suffocate him. 

How does he articulate it? How does he tell you he’s afraid that given the choice, you’d pick Jeonghan over him? That he’s sure Jeonghan would be able to give you what he might not be able to? He’s never had to confront feelings like these. He rarely forces himself to confront feelings of any kind. It’s why he’s never had a girlfriend for longer than a few months, why he tried so hard not to get attached. 

When he doesn’t respond, you fill in the blanks for him. “What, is it that your friend had me first? Are you humiliated to be with someone’s sloppy seconds?”

Wonwoo’s shocked that that’s the conclusion you would come to. “No! No, absolutely not. You’re not- don’t talk about yourself that way.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s me.” You roll your eyes. “I’m serious! It’s... fuck, I’m not good at this. It shouldn’t bother me. I know it shouldn’t. It was before we met and you didn’t know we knew each other, and even now we’re not technically- I mean, I want to be but I’ve been too much of a pussy-”

“Wonwoo.”

“Sorry.” He takes a deep breath in an attempt to steel himself before trying again. “Let me start over. It bothers me but not for the reason you think. I can’t stop worrying that he’s better than me.” 

“Better than you? At what, sex?”

“At all of it. If he was better in bed, if he’d be a better boyfriend... I know it isn’t healthy to compare myself to another guy, especially to someone who’s my friend, but I like you so much. I want you to be happy and I want what’s best for you and I want that to be me. I’m just afraid that it won’t be.”

He’s able to breathe a little easier when your gaze softens and your arms fall back to your sides. “Why don’t you let me make that decision for myself?”

“I- of course. It's totally up to you I just meant-” He shuts up when you take a step towards him. 

“You know, you were a lot cockier when we first met. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous. Hannie really shook you up, huh?”

You’re teasing him. Throwing in Jeonghan’s nickname like that, you want to get under his skin.  

Wonwoo narrows his eyes at you. “You’re such a fucking brat.”

“It’s one of the things you like about me. One of the reasons you want me to be your girlfriend.”

“Come here.” 

He grabs your arm before you can duck away, using his strength to overpower you and trap you in between himself and the sink. 

“Is that what you want?” he asks.

“What?”

“To be my girlfriend.”

“Are you asking?”

There is no hesitation this time. “Yes.”

It’s not the most romantic proposition, but he figures it’s fitting for the two of you. He’s already been more vulnerable with you in the last ten minutes than he has with anyone in years. It’s progress.

You smile and wrap your arms around his neck. “Then yes.”

The desperation comes back full force when he kisses you. It’s different this time, though. All-consuming. He didn’t think he would get this far and now that he has, he feels like he has something to prove. 

He runs his hands up the backs of your thighs until they reach your ass. His eyebrows raise in surprise as he looks at you.

“No panties?”

“It’s a thong,” you laugh. 

“Ah.”

His fingers find the waistband and snap it against your skin, making you flinch. 

“I had to, ah, wear them because this skirt is so goddamn tight.”

Wonwoo doesn’t really get what that means but he nods like he does, moving his hand from your hip to in between your legs. 

“Seems like someone else is pretty needy too,” he muses as he coats his fingers in your arousal and starts to play with your clit. “Have you also been thinking about this all night?” 

You bite your lip. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? I need more than that, baby.”

You groan in annoyance. “Yes, I’ve been thinking about it.”

“For how long?”

“S-since I got to your apartment.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, rewarding you by pushing one of his fingers inside of you. 

“I like your friends. They’re all really nice, but I’ve been wanting to go home so we could fuck pretty much this whole time.” 

“Should’ve said something, pretty girl. We could’ve come up here a lot sooner.”

You look shy all of the sudden. “Well, I wasn’t thinking about doing it here.”

“It turns you on, though, doesn’t it? Knowing we could get caught?” he adds another finger as he presses you for an answer, causing a whimper to slip from your lips as you nod. 

“Is that why you brought me up here?” you challenge shakily. “So that he might hear us?”

It’s like a slap in the face, but less hot. And it stings even more because you’re right. 

He slides his fingers out of you without warning, pointedly ignoring the pout you try to guilt him with. 

“Open.”

“What?”

“Open your mouth. You’re going to clean my fingers off for me.”

You do as you’re told and suck his fingers clean, moaning around them at the taste of yourself for good measure. 

“There we go. Good girl. Might as well make that mouth of yours useful if you’re going to insist on being bratty.” You roll your eyes at him and try to protest. “Aht-aht, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

He relents with a smirk when you push your teeth into his fingertips, threatening to bite him. 

“You’re lucky it turns me on when you’re a dick.”

“Trust me, I know. Now turn around.”

Wonwoo works on unbuckling his belt while you bend over the sink and brace yourself against the counter. He’s so focused on getting inside of you that he almost forgets the most important part.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

“I don’t care.”

He meets your gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been on the pill for forever now. I just liked the extra precaution.”

“Jihoon probably has some around somewhere if you want to-”

“Wonwoo?”

“What?”

“I want you to fuck me without one.”

He blinks a couple of times, half-wondering if this was a dream. “Are you serious?”

“I’m serious. Do you not want to?”

“Of course I want to,” he assures you. “But we’ve never done that before.”

You’re the one smirking now. “I mean, you’re my boyfriend, aren’t you? My boyfriend can fuck me raw whenever he wants to.”

“Fuck.” His cock twitches against his thigh. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

“You mean you aren’t already?” you tease. 

Instead of answering, Wonwoo gets his hands back on you, pushing your skirt up to expose your ass. He pulls your thong to the side and spreads you apart, groaning at the sight of you. 

You make a similar noise when he spits into his palm and starts to stroke himself. He’s tempted to tease you back, to make you watch him jerk off while he knows you’re aching for it, but he’s dying for it too and he doesn’t have the patience to make either of you wait any longer. 

Your breath hitches at the feeling of his cock pressing into you, just the tip at first. You whine and try to push yourself further onto him but he holds you in place, giving you one inch at a time until there’s no more to give and you’re connected at the hips. You both sigh in relief at the feeling, though the moment doesn’t last for long. 

You make eye contact with Wonwoo in the mirror, pleading silently for him to move. He does, pulling out slowly before rocking back into you, cursing under his breath at the way you’re squeezing him. 

“How are you always so fucking tight?” he grunts. “Doesn’t matter what I do to you, how many times I make you cum before I fuck you...” he trails off, losing the ability to complete the thought as he loses himself in you. 

“It’s because you’re so fucking big,” you gasp. 

“Oh, is that right?” 

The little voice in the back of Wonwoo’s mind urges him to ask if he’s the biggest you’ve ever had, but he resists it. It would defeat the purpose of the conversation you’d literally just had-- even if he is dying to know if his dick is bigger than Jeonghan’s-- so he decides to taunt you instead. 

“But you like it like that, don’t you? Can’t get off unless you’re being split in half. Isn’t that right?”

Your mouth falls open, either in shock or in pleasure. There’s no way to tell which. 

“That’s not t-true” you argue.

He clicks his tongue, calling your bluff. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, baby. It’s okay to be a size queen when your boyfriend’s got a big dick.”

The word feels foreign on his tongue but he likes the way it sounds. He likes the sound of being anything as long as he's yours. 

Subconsciously, his grip on you gets a little more possessive. He holds you tighter, closer. He shortens his thrusts, not pulling out as far so he can keep his body against yours. You feel so warm around him, even warmer without a condom in between you.  

He’s never done this with anyone before, never wanted it with anyone until you. Of course, he had always heard that fucking someone raw felt a thousand times better than it did with protection but it was just never worth taking the risk to him. 

Risk is the last thing on Wonwoo’s mind now. The only thing he can think about is how good, how right it feels to have you like this. 

“Baby? You still with me?” he asks, slowing down enough for you to respond. 

“Mhm.”

“Feels good?”

“So good.”

“Are you getting close?”

You nod, moaning a little too loud when you open your mouth to try and answer. Your eyes widen in surprise and you clap a hand over your mouth to try and stifle it but it’s too late. 

“It’s okay, I’m sure no one heard.” 

Secretly, Wonwoo hopes they did. He knows you don’t actually want to get caught, though, so he offers to help in the best way he knows how. 

“Take a deep breath, baby.”

The way your eyes roll back when Wonwoo’s hand closes around your throat is almost enough to send him over the edge. He has to bite his lip and pray to whoever’s listening as you cum hard around him, weakly fucking you through it while he hangs on by a thread.

He can barely think, let alone speak. The words are choked out, shaky and barely coherent. “Fuck, I’m- where do you want me to-”

“Inside,” you plead. “Cum inside me.”

God, he’s going to lose it. “Are you sure?”

“Are you going to make me beg?”

He wants to jab back, joke that you don’t have to beg even though you always sound so pretty when you do, but he’s too busy filling you with cum to grant you any kind of response. There’s so much, way more than he anticipated. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“What, why?”

He gives you a sheepish look. “It’s going to make a mess.”

You shake your head at him. “That’s what your tongue is for, silly.” Of course. Wonwoo is lucky to be dating such a smart woman. “You clean me up, I clean you up?”

He grins. “Deal.”

He pulls out and sinks to his knees on the tile in front of you, cock still out and still hard, dripping with the both of you. His hands travel gently up the backs of your legs until he reaches your thighs. He taps your right one, signalling you to lift it and hoist it over his shoulder. Then when you do, he looks up at you expectantly. 

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “What?”

“So... after this, my place or yours?”

[jarofstyles]

Flower

Hello… here is another mini series I started even tho I have other things I definitely need to finish…. But I’m kinda obsessed with them so I hope you guys like them 🫢

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 2 and 180+ exclusive writings!

WC- 2.8k

Warnings- y/n being oblivious, stupidly sweet h, things alluding to masturbation

“Y’know that isn’t normal for him, right?” Gia murmured as she came up next to Y/N. The low light of the bar had her squinting slightly, but thankfully the rock music wasn’t blaring too loud over the speakers over here. Coming after work, she had looked forward to meeting up with her friends for some much needed socialization- even if she was exhausted.

Confusion painted her features, looking at her friend with furrowed brows. “What are you talking about?” 

“Harry. He’s like, all over you. All the time” She looked over to the man  with a smirk, who had previously excused himself to participate in this round of pool. Y/N wasn’t much for the game so she stayed back in their seats, taking a moment to decompress. Or, try to. Sometimes it got a bit overwhelming with so many people talking at once.

“He’s just touchy, isn’t he?” Y/N had only known Harry for a few months, moving here to teach and one of her coworkers so kindly helped integrate Y/N  into her friend group. Harry owned a contracting business, actually, and Y/N had been getting lots of help from him on a variety of projects. Specifically, the latest project regarding his expertise in what sort of bannister she should have for the staircase. It was antique, and she didn’t want to be like those flippers she saw online who ruined the charm of old houses. If she wanted a brand new build, she would have bought one. “See?” 

Harry had his arm around Mitch, laughing about something probably a little dumb. The man was borderline tipsy but he’d just started his water rounds. He seemed to be an affectionate person, cuddly. At least to her and Mitch and Niall, all of whom seemed used to it. 

“Yeah, but not with women. He’s more reserved when it comes to them but not with you. Like… what was that before?” Her cheeks flushed slightly as dhe knew exactly when her friend was talking about. Harry had come back from the bar with their soft pretzel and another drink for her, and when he sat down she was promptly dragged into his lap. She’d let out a yelp but it turned into a laugh, settling in his thighs. Of course there was no admitting that her stomach had erupted in butterflies and she felt them kick up every time he rested his chin on her or squeezed her a little tighter to him. That the scent of his cologne had become something that grounded her anxiety in the moment, and it was weird how he seemed to be an anchor for her every time he pulled something like that. Somehow he just had that sort of effect on her.

Now that she mentioned it, she had noticed Sarah’s eyes widening when he did that, but she had assumed it was just for the pure audacity of a man manhandling a woman into his lap and ripping off a piece of cheese dipped pretzel and bringing it to her mouth. 

Y/N knew Harry was a cuddle bug. He was needy, like a pup, nosing and pawing his way into peoples hearts. But she assumed he did this sort of stuff with everyone. Maybe she wasn’t paying enough attention, but she had been too nervous to allow herself to think of his touches as flirtation. It would bring down the wall she’d tried to set there to not get her hopes up and look too deep into things. It had gotten her heart bruised a few times already. “Oh.” She replied, looking at her slowly emptying glass. “I, um, didn’t really think about that. He’s been pretty handsy for a long time.” He was also a flirt. Said things on purpose to make her flustered, but only in her ear so she’d get even more worked up. That was something he really liked to do- whisper in her ear or close to her to share something only with her. 

“Babes, you need to open your eyes. That man is completely gone for you. Smitten kitten. I was convinced you guys were secretly banging but I was trying to mind my business… but you mentioned a dating site earlier and I got confused.” She’d wholeheartedly thought they were already an item. “You need to talk to him or make a move or something. He’s all but pissed on you to claim you from the rest of the group, and he keeps looking over here to check on you. He acts like your boyfriend already, but there are more benefits you can cash in on if you just go for it.” She wiggled her brows making Y/N groan, hiding her head in her hands. 

She was way too sober for this conversation. 

Of course she had interest in Harry. Some feelings, even, but he’d never expressed interest in dating anyone. How could she not? He was almost unreal, checking loads of boxes she had in her mental list of ‘what my dream man would have’, including the dimple thing. The fact that he always said he was “waiting for the right one to find me”  when she’d ask floated back into her mind, clearing a bit of the fog that usually surrounded her when she thought about him. Had he been trying to tell her something?

Y/N could admit she wasn’t the most perceptive at times. She was a little oblivious, some could say, and didn’t read into signs well. The trait was something that used to get her into trouble when she was younger, her head always off in the clouds instead of where it needed to be according to the adults around her. It was possible she missed something, but she wanted to find out how to rectify that. 

“Speak of the devil…” Gia whispered, moving over a bit with a snicker as Harry seamlessly slipped back into the booth and ran his hand over her hair. Y/N felt his presence like a blanket, face turning to look at him and his concerned features. That little wrinkle between his brow she always noticed when he was upset or focusing heavily on something.

“Hi, petal. Something wrong? Headache?” He asked delicately in case the answer was yes. She got migraines frequently, as much as it sucked- but Harry had brought her some pain relievers while she was at work once to save her ass. God, her head was a mess but it wasn’t from the migraine this time around.

“No, I’m okay.” She lifted her head, feeling his hand slide under her hair to hold the back of her neck. Hopefully he wouldn’t see the chills settling on her skin as his thumb rubbed over the side of her throat, concern still etched on his features. “Was just a bit dehydrated but I’m fine now.” Her smile must not have been as convincing as she tried, his lips pursing as he shook his head. 

“Got t’be careful with eating the salty chips and then having the drinks… one glass isn’t gonna be enough.” He sighed. “Stay here for me, yeah? I’ll be right back, let me get you some water.” Without thinking he leaned in and pressed a peck to her temple, sliding back out of the booth leaving the spot tingling. Sitting there with rapidly blinking eyes, she watched the stretch of muscles flex under his tee shirt as he made his way towards the bar to order said water.

Okay. Yeah. Now that she mentioned it, she definitely knew he didn’t press little kisses to the rest of the girl’s heads, or give that amount of attention to her but… again, she had tried to ignore it. Tried not to get her hopes up.

“Girl… you’ve got to see it now.” Gia’s brows were raised up. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” 

Maybe she was right. 

——

“I’m okay, H. I promise.” Y/N laughed out the words as he brought the straw back to her mouth and gave her a look. “Fine. But I’m gonna have t’piss soon if you keep force feeding water down my throat.” She shook her head as she took another drink, making a show of swallowing it. “See? Done.” 

Harry’s eyes had dipped down to her throat when she swallowed and back up to her mouth, taking a beat too long to respond. “Good. You… we can’t have you feeling poorly tomorrow. Are y’still up for it?” His hand was traveling around her body. Not in a sexual way, not really, but over her shoulders. Rubbing her arm. Cupping the back of her neck. Fiddling with her hair. For the first time, Y/N could consciously see what Gia was talking about. Maybe it was sad she needed someone else’s validation of it first, but now that she had it she didn’t feel as crazy for the emotions she felt. 

“Of course.” Harry was taking her to a sick used bookstore that he had helped remodel a few years back. When he found out she had gotten back into a reading mood lately, he’d suggested it immediately over text under the table, which now that she was thinking about it…. It was obviously to ensure it would be just the two of them. No one else.  He wanted to take her by herself, a little outing for just the two of them.

Stupid butterflies kicked in overdrive. “I’ve been dying to grab some new books.”

“I know. I remembered it when the owner called me a few days back about something and knew I had t’take you.” He grinned, leaning in a bit as he tucked the hair behind her ear. “I really hope you’ll like it.”

Y/N didn’t have much time to respond before the chatter got louder and the group that had gone back up to the bar for more drink ambled back and climbed into the booth. This time it wasn’t as much of a shock when she was scooped up into his lap, but it still made her hot under the skin. Her tummy swirled as he wrapped one solid arm around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, the other running over her thigh. It wasn’t suggestive, closer to her knee as he began to rub his thumb over the soft skin there. 

For some reason it was getting to her, making her worked up. The gentle touches, the wholesome nature of it made her feel a bit ashamed as she felt herself throb between her thighs, but it only got worse when he adjusted her in his lap, lifting her like it was nothing. Of course he had strength, the man hauled lumber by himself and did all sorts of superhuman shit when it came to construction, but it still shocked her every time she got to experience it first hand.

Taking a moment to think about it, it was always apparent that he was a beautiful man with a beautiful body. One thing that she really liked were his arms. Just as a whole. Hands, arms, how they’d built out a bit from all the hands on work. His hands could be a little rough with some callouses from those tools, but her grandma always did tell her that was the sign of a hard working man. It wasn’t something she focused on before because she had tried to deny the possibility of not only rejection but not being able to be in the friend group if things went sour..  At the moment she was past that. 

She could see the vein in his arm just a bit, near the anchor tattoo. His hand curled over her knee, almost possessively. This entire position was him claiming her. Realizing now he’d never pulled any of the other girls as close as he did her made her head spin. Hell, he really didn’t do much than give a friendly hug or hand to help them if they were stumbling. Fuck, he could actually feel something for her. Far past friendship.

“You’re quiet.” His words were so close they almost vibrated in her ear, making her startle a bit. “Shit, sorry Petal. Didn’t mean to scare you.” The little smile given to her made its way into her bloodstream, heating her up the longer he looked at her. “Why are you in your head, hm? Tired?” 

The way he spoke to her was so tender and sweet… gah! Now that she was allowing the possibility to be a thought, it was shaking her up. 

“Yeah, getting tired.” She wasn’t lying.  Her Friday classes had been a handful. That was the truth. “Need to take a long shower and sleep until an hour before you come to pick me up.” 

“Sounds like a good plan. What kind of soap or shampoo do you use?” He asked, a noticeable shift in his voice. A little deeper, softer for her ears only. It was intimate, she realized. How he spoke to her privately with her tucked in his lap. Her body melted further into him, but the lump in her throat had expanded from the realization. “You always smell fuckin’ amazing.” His nose skimmed over the side of her jaw making her exhale shakily. He was taking an inhale of her as he hugged her body against him. Her poor vibrator was in for it when she got home. 

“Uh- it’s like a coconut citrus mix?” She had to think about it. It was hard to focus on anything with her revelations at hand and the man of the hour touching her so liberally. Like she was his to touch. It wasn’t disrespectful and she knew he was the first person to read her body language- hell, he probably could read her mind better than she could process her own thoughts. But it was still sinking in, the feelings gripping her stomach. “Thank you. I try my best. No one wants to be stinky.” Nose crinkling in disgust, she felt him shake his head against her. 

“Trust me when I say you’re the best smelling person I’ve met. Wouldn’t complain if all my things smelled like you.” Oh? He didn’t elaborate, but there was a barely there kiss to the hinge of her jaw rendering her speechless. His reaction was to place his chin back on her shoulder, interjecting into Niall’s rant while Y/N sat there trying to process what that was. 

Deciding to test something made her really nervous, but she wanted to see what he’d do. While he was always the affectionate one and she never pushed him away, she didn’t usually return it as much. He always sought her out and she reciprocated but she wasn’t one to initiate a lot… so she wanted to see what he’d do. 

Letting out a yawn, she leaned her head against his shoulder and let her head nuzzle into his neck. Without saying a word, her hand went for his on her thigh and weaved their fingers together, pulling it further up her thigh. Holding his hand, she could feel his body stiffen ever so slightly for a mere moment and his heart rate pick up. His other arm around her tightened, thumb rubbing the back of her hand. “Comfy?” He mumbled to her.

“Mhm.” She nodded, letting his hand squeeze hers. He was just solid and sturdy. She could lean against him and feel protected in a way. Why she hadn’t tried this sooner she didn’t know, but she could hear his mood get better as he spoke. It was palpable, like he was vibrating a little bit, squeezing her hand every once in a while to remind her he was there. Or maybe it was for his own mind? 

It continued like this for a bit until everyone decided to get going, Harry being the last to stand. He was gentle about helping her off his lap, beating her to get on his feet and offered his hand to her to help her up. “C’mon, sleepy Flower. Time for your shower and sleep. Can’t have you too tired for the selection of books, hm?”  His hand steady on the small of her back, he led her to the car with a bit of a delay as they said good, a hug tight and lifting her off the ground a bit as he did so before having her promise to text when she got home. 

She fulfilled the promise, as well as her guilty vibrator session thinking about that tiny kiss on her skin and his hand on her knee, hoping that would make her chill out. It didn’t. 

[grunckle]

I think something that gets misinterpreted a lot in the Rain World community is what purposed organisms actually are. Theres a common interpretation that they were like “beasts of burden” and looked like or were the creatures we still see today. But this isn’t what Moon tells us, here’s what she says.

“Most purposed organisms were considerably smaller than me, and most barely looked like organisms at all. More like tubes in metal boxes, where something went in one end and something else came out the other…When I came into this world there was very little primal fauna left. So it's highly likely that you are the descendant of a purposed organism yourself!”

This dialogue paints the picture that most purposed organisms were closer to machines, or machine cogs, with biological parts than actual animals.

Of course most people are aware that creatures like leviathans and miros birds have mechanical aspects, but I think that most if not all creatures have some sort of blending of the biological and mechanical; it’s more of a spectrum than a dichotomy with cyborgs in between.

This idea is also based on some of the old Rain World concept art by Joar.

Here, it looks like melting globs of flesh, (or fleshy rubber and plastic) mutate over a metal “skeleton”. I think this can show the possible intention for purposed organisms and evolution in this world. Organic and mechanical transition seamlessly, and organic parts grow rapidly. I believe most purposed organisms started off on the more mechanical side of things, but evolved their organic “cover” in this way. Maybe everything we see, including us, have some mechanical components that are hidden by the flesh exterior.

This sort of, life overabundance and rapid growth is shown through Five Pebbles’s rot in game. His rot globs are able to grow legs and become mobile in an incredibly short amount of time, and even proto rot grows from innocuous metal walls.

My friend over at Darthzz-Ploo-World really coined this interpretation (and many others) in my opinion and did a wonderful art piece showcasing it.

My friend Re also did some great art showcasing a theory on orange lizards evolving from those computer boxes in Sky Islands and the exterior.

I also did some doodles on my own theories in the same vein. This time on the origin or Shoreline leviathans from Moon’s collapsed iterator components.

But yeah, I think Downpour leaned more into the “beast of burden” interpretation, but I also don’t think the two are mutually exclusive. Not everything needs to be a tube-box descendant I suppose.

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRIS STURNIOLO

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

story warning: 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: 7.7k

CHAPTER FIVE:

The next afternoon, the apartment was quiet except for the sound of you and Ava in the kitchen, surrounded by takeout containers and coffee mugs. Matt and Chris had left a couple of hours ago. Chris hadn’t said a word to you before leaving, just gave a nod in your direction before walking out the door with Matt. His silence had been deafening, and it gnawed at you even now.

“So,” Ava said, dragging out the word as she popped a piece of orange chicken into her mouth. She leaned forward on her elbows, her eyes narrowing. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened last night?”

You sighed, swirling your straw in your iced coffee. “Where do I even start?”

“From the beginning, obviously,” Ava said, grinning as she gestured dramatically with her chopsticks. “Spill. Now.”

You hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out how to even begin to explain the absolute chaos of the night. Finally, you took a deep breath and dove in. “Okay, so after you and Matt disappeared to—”

“Have amazing drunk sex,” Ava interrupted, smirking. “In the frat bathroom.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got that loud and clear,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Anyway, I was just hanging out, you know, flirting with random guys and trying to have a good time—”

“You slut,” Ava teased, grinning.

“Shut up,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “You’re just the one who said she had drunk sex in a frat bathroom?! But anyways this guy, Cam, comes up to me. Super hot, like jawline for days, beautiful eyes, just—ugh, chef’s kiss.”

Ava gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “No way. Did you hit it off?”

“Uh, duh,” you said. “We started talking, and then we started making out.”

“Slut,” Ava said again, her grin widening.

“Oh, it gets worse,” you said, biting your lip. “He put his hands on me, like… on me. And it was getting really heated, but then—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ava said, holding up a hand. “Don’t tell me Chris saw.”

“Oh, he saw,” you said, your voice dripping with exasperation. “And he lost his fucking mind. He shoved Cam so hard he almost fell over, and then they started arguing.”

“No!” Ava gasped, her eyes wide.

“Yes,” you said, dragging the word out for emphasis. “Chris was all, ‘Back off,’ and Cam was like, ‘Who the hell are you?’ And then Chris just… snapped. He was so pissed, Ava.”

Ava slapped her hand on the table, her eyes sparkling with disbelief. “Are you serious? He actually fought a guy over you?”

“Yeah, and then Cam just gave up and left,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “But it didn’t end there. Chris grabbed me and dragged me out of the party.”

“Dragged you?” Ava repeated, her jaw-dropping.

“Like, literally dragged me. He threw me over his shoulder, put his hand over my ass to cover me, and carried me out like a caveman.”

Ava slapped her hand on the table, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Shut up. He did not.”

“Oh, he did,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “And then we got back here, and it just… exploded. We started fighting—like really fighting.”

“What do you mean fighting?” Ava asked, her expression turning more serious.

“I mean I was yelling at him, shoving him, and he just kept pushing back,” you said, your voice softening. “And then he pinned me against the wall, and…”

“And?” Ava whispered, her eyes huge.

“And we kissed,” you admitted, covering your face with your hands. “It was intense and messy and so fucking angry, but I couldn’t stop. It was like I didn’t even care how mad we were at each other.”

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Ava said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You lowered your hands, staring at your untouched food. “The worst part is, I don’t even know what to do now. He’s so different from the Chris I knew in high school, and I barely recognize him anymore. But somehow, I still…”

“You still what?” Ava asked gently.

“I can’t help but still feel for him,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m just as drawn to him now as I was before, even though he’s so… closed off and angry and impossible to read.” You let out a shaky laugh. “I mean, I basically ghosted him in high school for some guy I barely knew who asked me out. I guess I can’t really blame him.”

“So fucking what?” Ava said, her voice sharp. “You didn’t owe him anything, Y/N. Just because he was obsessed with you doesn’t mean you had to cater to his feelings. You were never dating. You had every right to date whoever you wanted.”

“It wasn’t like that,” you protested, though her words struck a chord. “We were close, Ava. And I just... I cut him off without even saying goodbye.”

“Again—so what?” Ava said, leaning forward. “You were a teenager. You were figuring your shit out. He doesn’t get to hold that over your head forever.”

You sigh. “I suppose. But at least he’s not my ex.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “Bitch please. While your ex was a dick, Chris isn’t exactly a saint right now, either.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. He’s been nothing but an asshole since he got back into my life.”

“Exactly,” Ava said, pointing her fork at you. “So why are you so hung up on fixing things with him?”

“Because he was a saint. And I miss him,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I miss how things used to be with him. Before everything got so messy and complicated. He wasn’t always like this, Ava. You know how good he was to me. He made me laugh, he cared about me, and now...” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Now he’s just angry and bitter all the time. And he takes it out on me.”

“Yeah, because he’s holding onto shit that happened years ago,” Ava said, rolling her eyes. “You ghosted him, Y/N. So what? He needs to grow the fuck up and let it go.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We were best friends. We were—God, I don’t even know what we were. Something more. But I was too scared to ask, too scared to mess it up. And now it’s like he’s holding that against me forever.”

“Yeah, well, that’s on him,” Ava said bluntly. “If he wanted to be more, he should’ve said something. It’s not all on you.”

You groan. “God, he doesn’t make any sense. Why does he act like this?”

Ava stabbed at her orange chicken with a little too much force. “It’s easier for him to be pissed off at you than to actually deal with his shit. Classic emotionally constipated man-child behavior.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Pretty much. But then he has these moments where it’s like... I don’t know. And it messes with my head.”

“Like last night?” Ava asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” you said, groaning as you leaned back in your chair. “He dragged me out of that party like a lunatic, started a fight with Cam, yelled at me, and then—then we ended up making out like our lives depended on it.”

“Because he’s a walking contradiction,” Ava said with a smirk. “He’s mad, but he’s also still obsessed with you. The dude can’t decide if he wants to strangle you or kiss you.”

“Great,” you said flatly. “He should just shoot me with a gun.”

Ava laughs. “I’ll shoot you both with a gun.”

You glanced at her, the knot in your chest tightening. “I just miss him, Ava. The old him. The version of Chris that made me laugh until my stomach hurt, who actually talked to me instead of just... yelling. And I hate that I still feel this pull toward him even when he’s being a complete asshole.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ava said, waving her hand. “You’re remembering the good parts of him and ignoring the fact that he’s being a cunt right now.”

You nodded slowly, her words sinking in even though they didn’t make the situation any less complicated. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“I always am. Now shut up and stop repeating yourself. You said the same shitty argument like seven times and I keep clocking your shit. Saying it for an eighth time isn’t gonna change anything.” Ava said with a grin, grabbing another piece of chicken.

***

It was almost 3 a.m., and you and Ava were sprawled on the couch, half-watching some rom-com on Netflix while picking at a bowl of popcorn that was long past stale. The apartment was dimly lit, the movie’s flickering light reflecting off the walls as you both tried to ignore how late it was.

“You think she’s actually going to pick him?” Ava asked, gesturing toward the screen as the main character debated her love triangle dilemma.

“She better,” you replied, popping another piece of popcorn in your mouth. “The other guy’s a walking red flag.”

Ava snorted. “Aren’t they all?”

Before you could respond, her phone buzzed on the coffee table, the screen lighting up with Matt’s name. She grabbed it, raising an eyebrow as she answered. “Matt? What are you doing up this late?”

You could hear his voice faintly through the speaker, his words rushed and excited. “Hey, babe. I know it’s super last minute, but me, Nick, and Chris just came up with this crazy good idea for a YouTube video. Problem is, we need to be loud, and we don’t want to wake our parents, so we were wondering if we could come film at your place.”

Ava rolled her eyes, glancing at you with an exasperated look. “It’s three in the morning.”

“I know,” Matt said quickly. “But it’s gold, I swear. We won’t stay long, just an hour tops. Please?”

Ava sighed, clearly torn. “Hold on.” She muted the call and turned to you. “What do you think?”

You shrugged, already knowing you weren’t going to say no. “Sure, why not? I could use some entertainment.”

Ava unmuted the call, rolling her eyes again. “Fine. But if you break anything, you’re buying us dinner for a week.”

“I already buy your ass dinner almost everyday,” Matt said, his grin practically audible. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes. Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ava said, hanging up. She tossed her phone onto the couch and sighed.

You laughed, sitting up straighter. “It’s not like we were about to go to bed or anything.”

“True,” Ava said, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “But if they wake the neighbors, I’m not bailing them out.”

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Ava got up to open it, and the boys streamed in, carrying camera equipment, a tripod, and what looked like a giant bag of snacks.

“Thanks for letting us film here,” Nick said, grinning as he headed straight for the kitchen to set down the tripod.

“You guys are lifesavers,” Matt added, leaning in to kiss Ava on the cheek before setting down a box full of props on the counter.

Chris walked in last, carrying a camera bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was slightly messy, his hoodie hanging off one shoulder, and his sharp jawline caught the dim light just right. You looked away quickly, trying not to let his presence affect you. But of course, it did.

“You guys really couldn’t wait until tomorrow to do this?” Ava asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter.

“Nope,” Matt said, grinning as he started unpacking the props. “When inspiration strikes, you’ve got to roll with it.”

Nick laughed, setting up the tripod near the kitchen island. “You’ll see.”

Chris stayed quiet, setting down the camera bag and beginning to set up the camera with efficient, practiced movements. You tried to keep your attention on the movie still playing on the TV, but every time he moved, your eyes drifted toward him. His focused expression, the way his hands worked the camera, the way he completely ignored your existence—it all left a bitter taste in your mouth.

The boys finished setting up the camera, positioning it near the kitchen island. The space was now filled with their energy—loud, chaotic, and slightly overwhelming. You leaned back on the couch, pulling your knees up and trying to focus on anything other than the tension simmering in the room. But it was impossible to ignore Chris, even as he acted like you weren’t there.

The boys cleared off the kitchen island, pushing aside anything that wasn’t essential and leaving the space completely empty. Ava and you took your seats behind the camera, ready to watch whatever chaos they were about to create. Matt leaned over the counter, grinning as he looked at you both.

“Alright,” Matt said, rubbing his hands together. “We’re not going to tell you what we’re doing right away. You’re going to react with the viewers. It’ll be better that way.”

“Sounds ominous,” Ava said, raising an eyebrow. “But okay.”

Nick laughed, adjusting the tripod to get the perfect angle. “It’s genius. You’re going to love it.”

Matt glanced at you. “Can you press play for us? We’re starting now.”

You reached forward, hitting the record button on the camera. Immediately, Chris’s demeanor shifted. His slouched posture straightened, and a grin spread across his face as he leaned into the counter. His energy completely transformed, the playful, animated side of him that you hadn’t seen in so long lighting up the room. It was like flipping a switch.

“Alright, what’s up, guys?” Nick said, waving at the camera. “Welcome back to another video. Today, we’re doing something a little different.”

“Something insane,” Chris added, his voice light and teasing as he gestured dramatically toward Matt. “This was all his idea, by the way, so if it goes south, blame him.”

You couldn’t help but stare at Chris, your chest tightening. This was the version of him you missed—the Chris who was loud, funny, and so unapologetically himself. The realization that he could still be this person, just not around you, twisted the knife a little deeper.

Matt clapped his hands together, pulling your attention back. “Alright, alright. We’re doing the Deaf, Blind, Mute Challenge. If you don’t know what that is, one of us will be deaf—wearing noise-canceling headphones—one will be blindfolded, and the last one will be mute—tape over their mouth. And we’re going to try to complete a task.”

Nick grinned. “Spoiler alert: It’s going to go horribly wrong.”

Matt turned to Ava, his grin softening slightly. “Sweetheart, can you grab some headphones, a blindfold, and tape for us?”

“Of course,” Ava said, hopping up and heading toward the hallway closet. She returned a moment later with the supplies, setting them down on the counter. “Alright, I’ve got noise-canceling headphones, a blindfold, and some tape. Who’s doing what?”

“I’ll take the headphones,” Nick said, grabbing them.

“Blindfold me,” Matt said, holding his arms out dramatically. “Let’s get this started.”

Ava rolled her eyes, grabbing the blindfold and walking over to Matt. “Alright, hold still, drama queen.”

As she worked on tying the blindfold securely around Matt’s head, she glanced back at you. “Y/N, you do Chris. Here’s the tape.” She handed you the roll of tape, her tone casual, but her smirk told you she knew exactly what she was doing.

Your stomach flipped as you stood and walked toward Chris, the tape in your hand feeling heavier than it should. He was leaning against the counter, his grin still in place, but as you approached, his eyes locked onto yours, and the air between you shifted instantly.

“Ready?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Chris raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “I’m always ready.”

The weight of his stare made your hands tremble slightly as you tore off a strip of tape. You stepped closer, the tension between you palpable as you held the tape up. His eyes didn’t leave yours, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room disappeared.

You hesitated for just a second before pressing the tape gently over his mouth, your fingers brushing against his skin. His lips were soft beneath your touch, and the heat of his breath against your fingertips sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes darkened as he watched you, the intensity in his gaze making it impossible to look away.

Your hands lingered for a second longer than necessary, your thumb grazing the corner of the tape as if testing its hold. Chris’s chest rose and fell slightly faster, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Good?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, and the heat in his gaze made your cheeks flush. You stepped back quickly, the moment breaking as Ava’s voice cut through the air.

“Alright, we’re set!” she said, stepping back to admire her work on Matt.

You moved back to your seat behind the camera, your heart racing as you tried to shake off the tension from the encounter. But no matter how hard you tried to focus on the chaos unfolding in front of you, your mind kept drifting back to the look in Chris’s eyes—and the way it had made you feel like the world was tilting on its axis.

Ava and you stood behind the camera, your arms crossed as you watched the boys set up for their chaotic cupcake challenge. The kitchen was a disaster waiting to happen, and you could already tell that this was going to be a train wreck—but an entertaining one.

“Alright, we’re recording,” Ava said, pressing a button on the camera. “Do your thing, boys.”

Nick, now wearing the noise-canceling headphones, couldn’t hear her at all. He was standing off to the side, bobbing his head like he was listening to music. Matt had the blindfold on and was flailing around dramatically, feeling for the counter. Chris, with the tape firmly over his mouth, simply crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, his annoyance already evident.

“Okay, let’s get started!” Matt shouted, completely missing that Nick couldn’t hear him and Chris couldn’t speak. He groped around for the mixing bowl, finally grabbing it and slamming it onto the counter. “Step one: bowl. Nailed it.”

Chris, leaning against the counter, made a series of exaggerated gestures toward the ingredients, his eyes narrowing at Matt’s lack of efficiency. Matt, of course, didn’t notice, and Nick was oblivious, wandering over to the pantry and pulling out a random can of beans.

He turned back to the counter and nearly walked into Chris, who grabbed the can, sighed dramatically, and shoved it aside.

Matt finally managed to locate the flour, opening the bag and immediately spilling half of it onto the counter. “Shit,” he muttered, waving his hands around. “Is this the flour? Did I get it?”

Chris clapped loudly, trying to get Matt’s attention, but it only startled him. Matt jumped, slapping the bag of flour, and an even bigger puff of white powder exploded into the air.

Nick, still completely unaware, grabbed the sugar and started dumping it directly into the mixing bowl—without measuring. Chris groaned behind his tape, shaking his head and gesturing wildly, but Nick just ignored him and gave a thumbs up.

“Nick, stop!” Matt yelled, though his voice was way too loud. “Are you measuring it?”

Nick, of course, couldn’t hear him. He started humming loudly, pouring even more sugar into the bowl while Matt blindly felt around for eggs.

Chris stepped in, grabbing the sugar away from Nick and pointing aggressively at the mixing bowl. Nick squinted at him, tilting his head like a confused puppy before turning back to the counter and grabbing the salt instead.

You gasped, watching as Nick dumped a generous handful of salt into the batter. Chris froze, his eyes widening in horror before he started slamming his hand on the counter to get someone’s attention.

Matt heard the banging and spun toward the noise, knocking over the carton of eggs in the process. “What’s happening? Is it going okay?”

Chris threw his hands in the air, looking past the camera at you as if to say, This is what I have to work with? His gaze lingered on you, the tension in his eyes clear even through the ridiculousness of the moment.

Nick was now attempting to crack eggs one-handed, with more ending up on the counter than in the bowl, and Matt had somehow managed to grab a whisk and was waving it around like a sword.

“What are you doing?” Matt yelled in Nick’s general direction. “You’re supposed to be mixing!”

Nick, oblivious, grabbed the whisk from Matt and started stirring the batter—with way too much enthusiasm. Flour and sugar flew everywhere, coating the counter and both of them in a fine white dust.

Chris looked like he was about to lose it, his hands on his hips as he glared at the mess. He turned to the camera, his eyes meeting yours again, and raised his eyebrows.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. The boys eventually managed to get the batter into a cupcake tin—though most of it ended up on the counter or the floor—and Chris carefully slid it into the oven, giving a mock bow as he turned back to the camera.

Nick took off his headphones as the others started cleaning up, finally realizing the chaos he’d missed. “Wait, what just happened?” he asked, looking around at the flour-covered kitchen.

“You were a fucking menace,” Ava said, laughing.

“I think Chris might actually murder you after this,” you added.

Chris peeled the tape off his mouth with a dramatic wince, immediately running his tongue over his lips as if to rid himself of the sticky residue.

“That’s a wrap,” Matt said, grinning at the camera. “We made cupcakes… kind of.”

“More like a flour explosion,” Nick muttered, glancing at the disaster zone around them.

Chris, still standing by the oven, smirked. “Don’t worry. The real magic happens when we taste-test these bad boys.”

Matt leaned toward the camera, still grinning. “Alright, we’ll cut here, clean up, and be back when the cupcakes are ready. See you in a bit.” He turned to Ava and you. “You can stop the recording now.”

You reached over to the camera and hit stop, the room falling into a relative silence except for the hum of the oven.

“Alright, boys,” Ava said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. “If you’re going to mess up my kitchen, you’re going to help clean it.”

Nick raised his hands in mock surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”

They all pitched in, wiping down the counters and sweeping up the flour. Nick somehow managed to spill even more sugar while trying to help, earning an eye-roll from Chris and a muffled laugh from Matt. Meanwhile, you and Ava stood back, occasionally handing them paper towels or pointing out spots they missed.

Once the kitchen was somewhat back to its original state, the oven timer dinged. Chris grabbed a pair of oven mitts and pulled out the tray, carefully setting it down on the counter. The cupcakes looked… uneven, to say the least, but they were technically edible.

Matt reset the camera, waving you over. “Alright, let’s get this taste-test on record. Y/N, press play.”

You hit record, stepping back as the boys lined up behind the island, each grabbing a cupcake.

Nick held his up like it was a trophy. “Alright, guys, moment of truth. Are these a disaster or a masterpiece?”

Chris bit into his first, chewing thoughtfully. “Tastes like flour and salt,” he said, swallowing and grimacing. “Solid one out of ten.”

Matt laughed, trying his own and immediately choking on the dryness. “Oh God. Who let Nick measure the sugar?”

“I thought it was sugar!” Nick yelled defensively.

The camera captured every laugh, every over dramatic reaction, and every complaint as they tried each cupcake. Once they’d suffered enough, Matt called it. “Alright, that’s it for today. Thanks for watching, guys. Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe. We’ll see you in the next one!” He waved at the camera before turning to you. “You can cut it now.”

You stopped the recording, and the boys began packing up their equipment, their energy still buzzing from the shoot. Ava and you watched from the couch as they loaded the tripod and camera back into the cases, their voices overlapping in excited chatter.

“So, Nick,” Ava said, looking over at him as he zipped up a bag. “How was your trip to LA? You never told me much about it.”

Nick straightened up, his face lighting up. “Oh, it was amazing. Touring all the film schools was insane. The campuses are gorgeous, and the equipment they have is next level. It made me want to move there tomorrow.”

“That’s awesome,” you said, leaning forward. “Did you find a school you really liked?”

“A couple, yeah,” Nick said, nodding. “But it’s expensive, you know? So I’m still figuring it out.”

Matt leaned against the counter, grinning at his brother. “Yeah, but with how well the channel’s been doing lately, who knows? Maybe you’ll be able to afford it soon.”

Nick’s eyes brightened even more. “Right? Our videos have been getting more and more views every week. It’s starting to pick up for real.”

“That’s so exciting,” Ava said, smiling. “You guys are really doing it.”

“I guess so” Chris said, his tone more subdued as he finished packing up the last of the equipment. His eyes flicked to you briefly, something unreadable in his expression, before he turned back to the counter.

You couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride for them, despite everything. They were making something out of nothing, turning their life into something tangible—and people were loving it.

“That’s awesome, guys,” you said, offering a small smile.

As the boys packed up the last of their equipment and started moving toward the door, Ava glanced at Matt and grabbed his arm, pulling him aside.

“Stay the night, please?” she said softly, giving him a playful pout. “It’s late, and I barely got to spend any time with you. Plus, you’re not driving home at 4 a.m.”

Matt hesitated for half a second before smiling. “Alright, sweetheart. You convinced me. I’ll stay.”

“Of course you will,” Ava said, grinning as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

Meanwhile, Nick slung his bag over his shoulder, glancing between everyone. “Yeah, no, I’m good. I have to meet Alanah tomorrow morning, so I’m taking the car home.” He gave Matt a knowing look. “You can find your own ride back.”

“Good luck waking up early,” Matt said, smirking at his brother.

“Please,” Nick shot back. “I’m a professional. I’ll be fine.”

As Nick headed toward the door, you found yourself standing awkwardly by the couch. Chris leaned against the counter, his gaze burning into yours as if he was daring you to say something. The tension in the air was thick, crackling between you like static electricity, but you stayed silent, your eyes locked with his.

“Alright, we’re going to bed,” Ava said suddenly, grabbing Matt’s hand and tugging him toward the stairs. She threw a grin over her shoulder as she added, “Don’t stay up too late.”

Matt followed her with an easy laugh, and they disappeared upstairs, leaving you and Chris alone in the quiet apartment.

Chris didn’t move from his spot by the counter, his arms crossed and his eyes still locked on you. The silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, but neither of you said a word.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to think of something—anything—to break the tension. But the way Chris was looking at you, dark and unreadable, made it impossible to focus.

The room felt too quiet, too still, and you couldn’t tell if it was the weight of unspoken words or the memories of everything that had passed between you. Either way, it left you rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak as Chris stayed exactly where he was, his gaze never wavering.

Once the living room was completely empty, the faint creaks of the floor above told you that Ava and Matt were fully preoccupied upstairs. The silence downstairs felt thick, like a suffocating blanket wrapping itself around you. You lingered near the couch, unsure of whether to sit or retreat to your room. Before you could make a decision, Chris moved.

He stepped away from the counter and crossed the room in a few long strides, his presence commanding and impossible to ignore. Without a word, he gestured toward the couch. “Sit.”

You blinked at him, startled by the calm authority in his voice. “Chris, I—”

“Sit,” he said again, softer this time, but with a weight that left no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you sank onto the couch, your heart hammering in your chest. He sat down beside you, his posture casual but his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.

“Chris,” you started, your voice wavering slightly. “Can we talk about yesterday?”

He leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. Let’s talk.”

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts. “You had no right to push that guy off me, Chris. What I do, who I’m with—it’s none of your business.”

Chris tilted his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know,” you shot back, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “I get it, okay? I messed up in high school. I shouldn’t have done, and I’m sorry for that. But you never made anything clear between us and it was making me go crazy. I’m sorry for putting myself first but you don’t get to act like you still have some kind of claim over me.”

His lips quirked into a faint smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Claim over you?” he repeated, his tone almost mocking. “Is that what this is about?”

You frowned, your frustration mounting. “Yes, Chris. That’s exactly what this is about. You can’t just insert yourself into my life now and act like you get to dictate what I do.”

Chris leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked at you. “You’re missing the point, Y/N.”

“What point?” you snapped.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. The touch was soft, almost tender, and it made your heart stutter in your chest. “The point is,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “that I can’t stand seeing you with guys like him. Guys who don’t deserve you.”

Your breath caught, his words throwing you off balance. “Chris—”

“You’re beautiful,” he said, cutting you off. His hand on your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “You always have been. You’ve always been my beautiful girl. And seeing you with some random guy who doesn’t even know how lucky he is… it drives me crazy.”

You stared at him, your pulse racing. “You don’t get to say things like that,” you whispered.

“Why not?” he asked, his gaze dropping to your lips for a brief second before meeting your eyes again.

“Because it’s manipulative,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Is it?” he asked, leaning closer. “Or are you just scared of how much you still feel when around?”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Chris, I don’t want to do this with you right now. I just want to understand why you think you can act like you still have some kind of authority over me.”

“Authority?” he repeated, his voice dripping with mock amusement. “Y/N, I don’t need authority. You don’t even realize how much you give away without me having to ask.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you shot back, your frustration boiling over.

Chris leaned closer, his hand resting lightly on your thigh, his touch both grounding and suffocating. “It means I know you, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “I know the way your mind works. I know the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. And I know that no matter how much you want to run from this, you can’t.”

You wanted to pull away, to break the tension and stand your ground, but his words left you frozen, your heart racing in your chest. “You don’t know me,” you whispered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

Chris’s smirk deepened, his thumb brushing lightly against your leg. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

The way he said it- calm, condescending, and so damn sure of himself- made your stomach twist. You hated how much power he seemed to hold over you, how easily he could unravel you with just a few words.

“This isn’t fair,” you said again, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and something you couldn’t name.

“Life’s not fair,” Chris said soothingly, leaning over and running a hand through your hair. “But here’s the thing: I’m not asking you for anything, Y/N. I don’t need to. You’re already exactly where I want you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you clenched your hands into fists, trying to steady yourself. “I’m not playing your game,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

Chris’s gaze softened, just for a moment, but there was still an edge to it that made your skin prickle. “You don’t have to,” he said simply. “You’re already in it.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap with an ease that made your heart race. His hands settled on your hips, holding you in place as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“You think you’re still in control,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your jaw. “But you’re not. Not anymore.”

The softness of his tone contrasted sharply with the weight of his words, leaving you torn between anger and something that felt dangerously close to surrender.

“Chris, stop,” you said, your voice trembling as you tried to push against his chest.

But he didn’t budge, his grip firm but not forceful. “Stop what?” he asked, his voice laced with mock innocence. “You don’t like hearing the truth?”

Your frustration bubbled to the surface, and you shoved at his chest again, harder this time. “What do you want from me, Chris? I don’t understand you.”

Chris let out a low laugh, his smirk deepening as he leaned back slightly, keeping you firmly in place on his lap. His hands moved to your waist, his grip possessive yet unnervingly calm. “What do I want from you?” he repeated, his voice smooth and dripping with condescension. “Now, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

You glared at him, your hands resting against his chest, trembling with a mix of anger and something else you didn’t want to name. “Yeah, it is,” you snapped. “Because one minute, you’re furious with me, yelling at me, and the next, you’re—”

“Touching you like this?” he interrupted, his thumbs brushing slow circles against your sides. His eyes darkened as they roamed over your face, locking on yours with a gaze that made your stomach twist. “Or maybe it’s because you’re letting me. Let’s not pretend you don’t like it, Y/N.”

Your chest tightened, and you pushed against him again, trying to create even the smallest bit of space between you. But his hold didn’t falter, and his strength only highlighted the imbalance of control in the moment.

“Stop,” you said through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to do this.”

“Do what?” he asked, his voice softening as if he were talking to a child. “Remind you of how easy it is for you to fall back into this? Because, Y/N, you’re doing exactly what I thought you would.”

You froze, his words hitting harder than you wanted to admit. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head, his smirk taking on a sharper edge. “It means this,” he said, gesturing between the two of you, “is what you seem to do best at. You fuck me over, you play the victim, act like I’m the one crossing lines, but here you are, sitting on my lap, letting me touch you.”

Your face burned with a mix of shame and fury. “You pulled me here,” you hissed.

“And you stayed,” he shot back, his tone sharp enough to cut. “You could’ve walked away. But you didn’t, because deep down, you like this.”

His words left you speechless, your throat tightening as you struggled to come up with a response.

“But let me make one thing clear,” Chris continued, his voice dropping lower, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “High school was your time to have me wrapped around your finger. You lost that. You don’t get to play that game anymore, Y/N.”

You blinked, your anger turning into something closer to desperation. “Then what the hell are you doing?”

Chris leaned in, his nose brushing against your cheek as he whispered, “I’m playing my own game now. And this time, it’s you who’s wrapped around my finger.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in, the weight of them suffocating. “You’re so—” you started, your voice trembling. “You’re such an asshole.”

He laughed softly, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. “Maybe. But you’re still here, aren’t you?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the mix of anger, shame, and undeniable attraction leaving you completely unmoored. “I don’t understand you,” you said again, your voice breaking. “I don’t know what you want from me, Chris.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face with an intensity that made you want to shrink under his gaze. “I don’t want anything from you. You make me sick.” he said, his tone far too calm for what he was saying. “I just want to see how far you’ll let me go.”

The tears spilled over, hot and unwelcome, but you refused to look away from him. “Why are you doing this?” you whispered, your voice trembling as you searched his face for any sign of the Chris you used to know.

Chris tilted his head, his hand brushing against your cheek in a mockingly tender gesture. “Because I can,” he said simply, his voice calm, almost soothing.

You wanted to scream at him, to shove him away and demand answers that made sense, but instead, you sat there, frozen as his thumb gently wiped away your tears.

“Don’t cry, beautiful,” he murmured, his tone shifting into something soft and disarming. His fingers moved to your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek again, slow and deliberate. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as his other hand moved to smooth back a strand of your hair, his touch maddeningly tender. He combed his fingers through your hair, his eyes scanning your face with a softness that felt like a cruel trick.

“Chris,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this.”

He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Yes, you can,” he said, his tone dripping with quiet confidence. “You’ve always been able to handle me, Y/N. You did throughout high school. You just forgot how.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, leaving you torn between anger and the pull he had on you. “I clearly didn’t in high school, Chris. You don’t get to do this to me,” you said, though your voice lacked the strength you wanted it to have.

Chris smirked faintly, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as he tilted your chin up slightly. “I’m not doing anything, baby,” he said, his tone almost condescending. “You’re the one letting it happen.”

You clenched your fists, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you have to be like this?”

“Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Honest? Direct? I think you’re just mad because I don’t sugarcoat things for you.”

“Mad?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly. “I’m furious, Chris. You act like you can just waltz back into my life and—”

“And what?” he interrupted, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Make you feel something? Scare you a little because you’re not in control anymore?”

You bit your lip, your vision blurring with fresh tears as his words hit too close to home.

“Shh,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your lips, silencing whatever comeback you were about to muster. “Let’s not ruin the moment with your mouth, okay?”

You glared at him, but the fight in your chest was beginning to fizzle out, replaced by a growing sense of defeat.

“Come on,” he said after a moment, his tone shifting into something almost coaxing. “Let’s go upstairs to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

You hesitated, your instincts screaming at you not to give in, but his hand moved back to your cheek, cradling it gently as his thumb wiped away the last traces of your tears. “Let’s go,” he added, his voice low and laced with a dangerous sort of charm.

After a long pause, you nodded, too emotionally drained to argue anymore. He stood, holding out his hand to help you up. You took it reluctantly, and he led you upstairs, his grip firm but not forceful.

The walk to your room felt like a blur, your mind racing with conflicting emotions as you tried to make sense of what just happened. Once inside, Chris closed the door behind you and leaned casually against it, watching you with an unreadable expression.

You turned away from him, your hands trembling as you rubbed at your face, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Chris watched you for a moment as you sat on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands, your breathing uneven. You felt his gaze like a weight, pressing down on you, and it made it impossible to think clearly.

“You know,” he said finally, his voice low and calm, “you’re making this harder than it has to be.”

You looked up at him, your frustration flaring again. “How am I supposed to act, Chris? You pull me into all of this, twist everything I say, and then expect me to just… what? Go along with it?”

He tilted his head, his smirk faint but present. “I expect you to trust me, for one. Something you used to do without question.”

You blinked at him, his words hitting a nerve. “You don’t make it easy.”

Chris pushed off the door and took a few slow steps toward you, his movements deliberate, calculated. He crouched in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees, the intensity of his gaze locking you in place.

“Life isn’t easy, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “You should know that by now. But you’re stronger than this. You’re stronger than all this doubt. And deep down, you know I’m right.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, the way they dug under your skin and made you question everything. He brushed a thumb over your knee, his touch maddeningly gentle as his eyes searched yours.

“Come here,” he said, his voice coaxing.

You hesitated, but the pull of his presence was too strong, and you let him guide you up onto the bed. He slid in beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you against him.

“Chris,” you started, your voice trembling.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “Stop overthinking. Just… let it go.”

His hand moved to your hair, his fingers combing through it in slow, soothing motions that made your chest ache with a mix of frustration and longing. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re exhausted,” he said, his tone soft but edged with something darker. “You’re fighting me, fighting yourself, and for what? Just let me take care of you, Y/N. Let me be what you need.”

Tears pricked at your eyes again, and you hated how much you wanted to believe him, how much you wanted to let yourself sink into the comfort he was offering—even if it came with strings attached.

“You don’t care,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You’re just doing this to—”

“To what?” he interrupted, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “To mess with you? To hurt you? If that’s what you think, why are you still here?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The truth was, you didn’t know why you were still there. You didn’t know why you let him get to you, why you let him hold this kind of power over you.

Chris leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “That’s what I thought. You’re still here because you want this, Y/N. Whether you admit it or not.”

You clenched your fists, your frustration boiling over. “I hate you,” you whispered, the words more for yourself than for him.

He laughed softly, his breath warm against your skin. “I know,” he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. “You hate that I’m right. And you hate that no matter how hard you try, you can’t let me go.”

You closed your eyes, your tears spilling over as his words settled over you like a weight. He pulled you closer, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, his voice softening just enough to sound almost tender. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

And as you lay there, trapped in his hold, you couldn’t help but feel like you were sinking deeper into something you didn’t know how to escape- a web of manipulation, desire, and the lingering ache of what used to be.

a/n: pls comment what yall think so far and any ideas/predictions you have! any thoughts or criticisms are appreciated!

MASTERLIST

tags: tags: @mattsobvimyfav @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt

[retroaria]

Hey hey I hope u doin well :) I would like to request a wind breaker headcannon when their girl is really sassy/badmouth like swaering and gets herself into trouble. Maybe for Suo , Kaji, Sakura, Toma and Umemiya :).

a/n: i’m notoriously not good at writing for hiragi so i apologize for excluding him :( thank you so much for the request and i appreciate your patience!! <3

• | WIND BREAKER M.LIST | •

Suō finds your behavior rather entertaining, so much so that he lets it go on longer than it should some times. Not that he finds it humorous or anything - he finds it really attractive actually.

he loves watching you handle your own and be fierce about it, sometimes leans over and makes a cat growling noise in your ear (such a cheeky loser lol)

defends you with the biggest smile on his face, “sorry, she’s a hot head.” - he’s not sorry at all and he’s about to go give you a fist bump for telling the person off.

if ever he finds you biting off more than you can chew, he steps in and handles the rest for you. you guys are kind of evil, an evil team if you will. (it’s pretty romantic!)

kaji’s favorite little moment of life with you is when he gets to say “i told you so.” not only does it grant him exclusive access to the adorable pouty face you make while he teases you, it also makes him feel less guilty for not actually stopping you from running your mouth and getting into trouble.

“i told you not to do that.” sure he did! once or twice…maybe…under his breath as to not distract you from unleashing your rath. seriously though, for as much distaste as he shows in your rowdiness, he can’t hide the little smirk that gives him away while he sits back and watches you go off. he isn’t sure if he should be amused, proud, or concerned, but somehow he’s all of the above.

kaji’s biggest fear would be you causing some sort of drama in the community, and the rest of the guys have to start keeping tabs on you. so he keeps tabs on you himself and lends a hand when he sees necessary. he’s also sure to cover your tracks and would defend you with his life (unless he gets bored and realizes it’s pointless but in that case he knows you can figure it out on your own) partners in crime!

umemiya pretends to have zero recollection when a story of your aggressive misadventures is mentioned to him. “whaaaaat she didn’t do that, pffft- and if she did i’m sure she had a reason…yeah…” he must’ve been out of town that weekend. he loves you with all your fiery rage of course, but some of the stuff you’ve done really makes his head spin (in a simultaneously loving and nauseating way)

he gives you the same pep talks he gives the other guys in bofurin and encourages you to fight every battle with a purpose. once you get the hang of that he’s sure to let you know that “because i wanted to” and “because i can” are not good enough reasons to curse someone out and threaten to have your boyfriend come and beat them up. (he knew what he was signing up for)

despite the different ground you both stand on in certain situations, he loves that you’re strong and independent and sees those qualities as being forever beneficial, so he wouldn’t change you for the world. maybe just change your approach! i’m sure that would spare him a few drops of sweat and flustered apologies on your behalf.

sakura is truly not fond of how many uncomfortable (and slightly dangerous?) situations you’ve roped him into. hes got hands for days, but he can’t really formulate full sentences sometimes, so he tends to take the back seat and silently beg you to stop and leave them alone and just go home or else they’re gonna get even more angry and- oh but if that actually happens suddenly he’s pumped and ready to hand out mean left hooks like it’s nothing.

he can’t quite wrap his head around how quickly and fearlessly you engage in aggressive verbal confrontation without just rolling your sleeves up before even opening your mouth. he finds it just as admirable as it is scary.

unlike umemiya, knowing you threatened some asshole trying to mess with you that HE was gonna come and mess them up gives him instant gratification. he’s on the way! actually he was probably already there with you and as soon as you stopped yelling and he could take his hands off his ears he’s ready to defend your honor. he’s the robin to your batman sometimes, but just let him believe he’s batman, for his sake and yours.

wooo another wind breaker post for the books!!! i’m sorry i’m a sleeper agent when it comes to writing anything besides blue lock but have faith in me guys -aria

[utilitycaster]

I feel similarly about Laudna. Maybe because I know people like that IRL. Where a relationship is all they boil down to and it is as if they no longer have internal drive and personal goals. Might also just be a post college thing.

Yeah I've also seen people like this, and the thing is, firstly, if that had been explored - if there had been an intent to explore a character who ultimately only wanted to become half of a relationship and sink into a partner's identity and be nothing more what might lead them to that, that could be interesting too! We've seen fantastic characters from Critical Role who ultimately didn't change much on purpose (notably, Caduceus) and that's totally fine! But Laudna feels a bit like a microcosm of many of my issues of the campaign, namely, she feels like a drifting path of least resistance to some bland endpoint that alleges to be happy while feeling utterly empty. She never really explored anything. She was just physically present while events occurred.

The second point though is that there's people straight up in their 30s like THIS CHARACTER IS GREAT, like I'd go much easier if Laudna were exclusively loved by 19 year olds because you know what it do be like that sometimes. but she seems to be very popular with 25+ year olds who write the way I did in middle school except somehow even more melodramatic.

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 8

Part 7

The rest of the band had gotten over their shock of the news of Eddie's sudden rut and were having a conversation about sewing or something but Steve was deep in thought.

"I'm telling you, it's both calming and not calming", Jeff said as they walked out of the venue.

Gareth adjusted his jacket. "You get all that from quilting?"

"You remember your dice obsession way back when?"

"Dude, that's all I remember from junior year."

"You guys aren't worried about Eddie?", Steve asked, interjecting.

"Why would we be worried?", Gareth asked.

"He just-", Steve paused when a couple of fans caught them between the sidewalk and the car taking them back to the hotel. It didn't seem prudent for anyone to know why Eddie would be indisposed right now. But he continued when the fans got their autographs and left. "He just went into rut without any warning."

"Yeah, but he's a grown man", Jeff said. "He can handle it."

'Handle it'. How alphas usually handled it was all Steve could think about on the way back to the hotel. Alphas of his previous tax bracket would usually have a designated partner. Whether that was someone they were married to, were promised to, or just someone they had an agreement with, it was odd for an alpha of means to spend a rut alone. So did Eddie already have someone like that?

Was that why he pushed Steve away and took off? So that he could go to them? The initial twinge of heartbreak and rejection was quickly replaced with anger. Who the hell had stolen his alpha away?

"Uhh, is Steve okay?", Grant asked, picking up on the bothered scent he was putting out.

"I need to talk to Eddie", Steve said, arms crossed.

"Chrissy's already with him in his room. She's probably making sure he's all set up", Jeff said.

Chrissy. Corroded Coffin's manager. Completely professional. But also...she was an omega...One that had known Eddie for a long time. When the car parked, Steve got out, forging ahead to the suite he and Eddie were sharing.

"Steve? Steve! We're telling you man, it's gonna be okay", Jeff tried to reassure him.

"And no one's gonna blame you", Gareth added.

That got Steve to stop in his tracks just as he was about to press the button for the elevators. "What do you mean blame me? For what?"

All three of them looked anywhere but him. Steve put his hands on his hips, not allowing them to get out of answering his question. Jeff was the one that broke.

"His rut, Steve. I think it's pretty obvious it only happened because... well, you and he, you know..."

Yes, Steve did know. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Decades of science had proven that in certain conditions, this situation could happen. He let out a puff of laughter and ran his hands through his hair.

Honestly, if you had asked him, Steve would’ve figured that Eddie would have triggered his heat first. He’d heard the stories of having your hormones knocked out of whack by an alpha and having an off-cycle heat. So having to deal with his rut out of the blue was definitely a surprise.

Looking back on the past twenty four hours, anyone from the outside would have thought that Steve had been purposely trying to start it. But his sweet, sweet alpha and treated the situation like he was inconveniencing Steve. He had pushed Steve away, probably for his own good.

When he allowed himself to calm down and think about it, the idea that Eddie was getting his rocks off to someone else right now was just unbelievable. They had agreed. Exclusive. Which meant Eddie intended to ride this out alone.

“You don’t have to worry about Eddie”, Gareth said. “You can bunk with one of us while we wait for it to pass.”

“I’m not going to leave him”, Steve said quickly.

He pushed the elevator button and when the doors opened, he went inside. Grant and the others followed him. They stood behind Steve, trying to have a silent conversation on how to proceed.

"I can hear you guys bugging out", Steve said without turning. "It'll be fine." It wasn't even a matter of choice. His alpha needed him.

When the doors opened, he led the brigade and took his key card out. Inside, Chrissy was ending a call and Eddie was nowhere to be seen. She frowned a little at Steve.

"You shouldn't be here."

"I'm here to help Eddie", Steve said.

She looked disappointed at the band behind him, as if they were supposed to keep him away before giving Steve her attention again.

"Look, Steve, I know you're nice. But it's a liability thing. You could get hurt and Eddie's a public figure. Or maybe you'll use this to baby trap him, I don't know. But I can't let you use my friend that way."

Steve let out a hiss at the accusation. He had to remind himself and his omega that Eddie wasn't actually his alpha, that they weren't mated. She was completely in her rights as a friend and manager to protect her friend.

"Eddie won't hurt me. Chrissy, you know that stereotype about alphas during rut is nothing but BS. And I'm on birth control, so no pups are coming out of me any time soon."

"Baby, Chrissy", Eddie called out as he came out of the bedroom.

Steve ran up to him but Eddie grabbed his hands, keeping him at arms length. Steve frowned, but understood. They never really discussed what to do if one of them went into their cycles. But Eddie was still of a clear mind. They had time to discuss it now.

"Do you trust him?", Chrissy asked.

"With my signed copy of Lord of the Rings", Eddie smiled.

Steve's brow rose. "By Tolkien?"

"No, by McKellen. Which is better. The thing is, I don't trust myself around you while I'm like this."

Steve pouted a bit and let go of Eddie's hands, turning back to the rest of the group. "Do you mind giving us some privacy? I promise, if he turns me away, I'll come to one of your rooms."

"Text me before you guys get too....you know...", Chrissy said. "We can make accommodations."

"Will do", Steve said as he walked over to the couch while they left him and Eddie alone. Once they were, Steve patted the space next to him. Eddie came over, but only sat on the far opposite side.

“Angel, you shouldn’t be here. I’m not safe.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Eddie, you’re a pre-rut alpha. Not an insatiable lust monster.”

“But we never talked about this…you doing this for me, being my-m-my-”

“Shh”, Steve put a finger to his lips. “You’ve been taking such good care of me. I just wanna return the favor.” Then he let out an exaggerated sigh and turned away, standing up “But if you don’t want me here-”

He heard a loud thump that was probably the from Eddie rushing and falling off the couch to stop him. He felt Eddie hug him from behind, gentle, like he was afraid of breaking him.

"I want to. Christ alive, I want to. But I...what if I'm too much? What if I cross the line?"

Steve turned in his arms and kissed his nose. "Then we need to draw a line in the sand first."

Eddie nodded. "Okay. Okay, I can do that." His hands were already toeing the line, inching under Steve's shirt. "Maybe we have this conversation with some space between us?"

Steve conceded to that. He didn't want to get distracted either. So they sat back down on the couch, apart but not too far apart.

"Sooo, what am I allowed to do?", Eddie asked.

"Anything", Steve breathed out before composing himself. Eddie's scent was getting stronger but he had to not think with his pussy for once. "I mean, just what we've done before. All of that is fine."

"What if I wanna bite you?", Eddie swallowed.

"You know you're allowed to do that", Steve smirked. He was still sporting some of the marks from earlier.

"Even if I wanted to...", Eddie's eyes went to his neck. "Once I'm in rut, I'll really want it. I'll wanna make you mine. In any way I can."

'Don't think with your cunt, don't think with your cunt. Make a rational decision-god our babies would be so beautiful-but we're not ready to be mated-he's such a good alpha, perfect alpha, could raise our pups good, keep them safe and-'

"We can, um", Steve cleared his throat and looked around for something. He got up, just to get some space and also think of something that would keep him from getting a mating bite tonight even though that was all he wanted. He saw something on the bed and went right for it.

"Perfect!", he exclaimed, returning with the black bandana Eddie had been wearing during the concert. It was saturated with his scent. Steve folded it to a rectangular band and then tied it around his neck. "This is off limits", he said. "And your alpha brain won't fight because-"

"Because it already smells like you're mine. Sweet thing, you're a genius", Eddie beamed. He got off the couch and pulled Steve in his arms, kissing him sweetly. He took in a deep breath and released a full body shudder. "It's working already."

"Oh yeah?", Steve couldn't help looking smug.

"Mhm. It's like you've already got my bite." Eddie started to kiss at his jaw. "And it's making me wonder why I haven't got you pupped up yet."

Steve could've swooned but he had to keep his wits about him for as long as he could. "There's one more thing."

"Hm?", Eddie looked up, his eyes were already starting to get the moony look.

"You're not going to be entirely yourself. I know that. So like I said, I'm gonna take care of you. That means you listen to me. I'm in charge, okay?"

Eddie nodded rapidly. "You're in charge. Got it."

"Good alpha", Steve stroked his hair. With any luck, the tour schedule wouldn't be messed up too badly. Alpha ruts typically lasted around 3-5 days. It would've been longer if he had to go solo. There was the idea still being passed around that an alpha's rut would end when they were convinced their partner had conceived, but Steve wasn't sure how he was supposed to trick Eddie's alpha into thinking that.

But the important part was that they'd decided what to do and Steve was taking him to bed.

"You know, the guys think that I triggered your rut", Steve said.

"And don't you look proud", Eddie grinned, lying in bed next to him. He frowned and sniffed at the comforter. "Doesn't smell right. Doesn't smell like us."

Us. Steve felt himself get wet. Well, wetter. He was going to be Eddie's omega. At least while his rut was going on.

"Do you know what I was thinking, while I was watching you on stage earlier?", Steve asked.

Eddie swallowed and shook his head. Steve pushed him onto his back and sat on his lap. Eddie looked perfect under him and between his legs like this.

"I was thinking about how sexy you looked. How everybody couldn't take their eyes off you, but you were only looking at me." Steve started a slow grind and watched as Eddie's eyes darkened. "And how I wanted to ride you all night long."

Part 9

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck  @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @marklee-blackmore @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva

[the-froschamethyst4]

Husband Of The Year

𖤐Pairing: Retired! Soap x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Smut, fluff, language, Scottish slang, teasing, P in V, fingering, feminism, breadwinner Y/n, male wife Soap, kissing/making out, groping, nipple play, male masturbation,

𖤐Summary: Soap had retired from the Military a few years ago, and when he got married to his wife he started to become the best husband of their lives.

————

————

4:00PM

Y/n was coming home and her husband Soap had just made dinner for the both of them. He poured out some red wine for Y/n and poured some whiskey in a glass for him. He saw headlights pull into his driveway knowing it was his wife.

He goes to the front door, opening it and then seeing Y/n get out of her car and sees her husband.

"John."

"Hi, mo luaidh (my darling)." Soap says, placing his hand on her waist. "Come on," he says guiding her into the house.

Once the door was opened and Soap moves down and removes Y/n's heels from her feet. His hands were gentle on her ankles and his fingers gently caressed her calves up to her thighs.

"What did you do?" She asked.

"Nothing...am I not allowed to cook for my wife?"

"You are allowed to," she smiles at him.

"I always cook for you, mo luaidh (my darling)." He kisses her knee and then stood back up.

"What did you fix?"

"Your favorite," he says, guiding her to the dinning room and showing her the meal he made for her. "Red wine too," he says.

"Thank you, John, I'm gonna change and come back down," she says. Soap nods and sits at the end of the table.

Y/n soon came downstairs in a light purple silk nightgown that stopped at her mid thigh, Soap's eyes widened as Y/n's hair was a bit messy as well, doing it on purpose teasing Soap.

He smirks leaning back in his chair, he stood up pulling her chair out for her to sit, she does and he pushed her closer to the table.

"You look gorgeous, mo luaidh (my darling)." He leans down and kissed her temple.

"Thank you," she smiles at him as Soap went to his chair.

"How was work?" He started to make small talk with his wife.

"A mess," she says.

"How so?"

"We have an employee that calls in almost everyday, her excuse is pulling the 'I'm sick' card when she isn't sick, it's because she doesn't want to work and it's very obvious, she has come to me many times complaining about work, and then saying she'll call in because 'she's stressed out'...stressed out about what? Watching videos on your phone? She doesn't work!" Y/n was an exclusive director for the company she works at.

If she could she would fire this woman, but it's not her call. It was obvious that the woman gets under Y/n's skin a lot. Even the General Manager has an issue with this woman and they've both talked to her and the CEO about her.

Soap usually hears a lot about this woman and how she is basically a problem for the company. All that woman has to do is order products make sure they come in on time and calls people to let them know their products come in, but she never does it half of the time and sales people have to do her job for her, which pisses them off.

"I bet, what number is this?"

"23 and counting," Y/n says annoyed by this woman. Y/n eats her dinner as Soap just listens her her rant and enjoy her company.

"You're lucky you don't have to deal with someone like her," Y/n says.

"Well, I dealt with people like that in the Military."

"Really, how come you never told me?"

"Just never brought it up," he chuckles. "But I can tell you about the one who was released early from duty."

"Tell me!" She says, leaning on her hand to listen to her husband talk.

Soap tells her about a new recruit coming to the Military and two days in was released from duty because of bad conduct making him go to court because of his stunt.

"Yeah, you never told me that," she giggles.

"Again, we've never talked about it," he says. "Not only that it was a while ago, when I went to Russia for a week, I kind of forgot about it till now," he says as he moves his fork to his mouth.

"I see."

"Anything else going on?" He asked her.

"We...fired a girl," Y/n says.

"Fired someone?! What happened?"

"Remember that one girl I talked about when I caught her in the bathroom with a male employee?"

"Oh yeah!"

"Well, she was caught in the male bathroom...masturbating and we called a meeting with her, with all managers and directors and...the CEO decided to fire her."

"H-How the hell did she get into the males bathroom without getting caught going in?"

"I'm not sure, the person who caught her doing it was the director of Marketing, she left the door unlocked and was caught."

"Holy shit-did you bring up the time you caught her?"

"I did in the meeting after we fired her, we discussed the times we caught her and how we hid it till we called a meeting with her," Y/n says.

"Your company is a shit show."

"Oh I know, we try our best to control it, and it seems like a shit show when the CEO leaves for anything, and his assistant tries to control everything when he's gone," she pokes at her food.

"Anyways enough work talk. You done, mo luaidh (my darling)?"

"Yes," she says as Soap stood up taking his and hers plate to the sink. She stood up and walked to her husband. Her arms go around his waist.

"Mo luaidh?"

"I'll be upstairs," she says, walking away and Soap watches her walk away.

-----------

Soap turns off the lights downstairs and walk upstairs through the hallway and at the end of the hall was his shared bedroom with the light on. He pushes the door open seeing his wife still in her silk nightgown, she was on her stomach reading one of her books, she looks over her shoulder and smiles at her husband before putting a bookmark in her book.

She rolls over and look at her husband placing her book on her nightstand.

"Come here," she says with her arms open and Soap crawls on top of her. She kissed the top of his head and he kisses her neck. "John?"

He starts to move down kissing her neck, chest, between her breasts, and then her stomach. His hands groped at her breasts, his hands move under her nightgown and his fingers played with her hard nipple.

She lets out a soft moan as he was gentle with her. Ever since Soap's retirement, he treats Y/n like she is the last thing on Earth, their sex was amazing because of Soap and how he would make her feel, and how he started to figure out what she liked during sex.

They tried new things they've never tried before, or they would do things they both knew they got off.

Soap then moves down pulling at her panties, pulling them down and off her ankles, he tosses them somewhere in the bedroom. He then starts licking his lips and then starts licking between her wet folds.

He kisses between her folds. He spits on her clit and rubs a few minutes earning moans from Y/n, her hand holds his wrist as he then shoves his middle and ring finger inside of her.

Her back arches with the pleasure overwhelming her. Soap smirks at her and then starts licking and sucking on her clit. His tongue flicked against her bud a few times, moans filled the room, he used his free hand and pulled his dick out.

He pumps himself a few times. He loves her moans, her back arching because of the pleasure. She used her hand to help him. He moans letting her do all the work.

He kept licking her and kissing her slit. Her hands pumping him quickly and teasingly slowly down. She'll pick up the pace just to hear him moan and the vibrations from his mouth against her clit made her feel good.

He then moves his mouth and fingers and she whines when he moves away. Her hand wasn't touching him anymore. He pulls his boxers off and then starts aligning himself up at her entrance.

She smiles placing her hands on his neck bring him close to her, lips touching as he first starts out slow and easy, them both rocking back and forth against each other.

Their make out session was soft and easy, but back rough with her biting at his bottom lip as he pulls away and groans when feeling her teeth pull at his lip.

His thrusts were rough and sloppy. The same with his kisses, they were sloppy and messy. Y/n's moans filled the room and skin slapping as well.

Soap kissed her neck, jawline and the back to her lips. Y/n's nails then dug into his muscular back. He groans when feeling the sudden pain digging into his back, but he ignored it, he was on a mission to make his wife feel good.

He looks down at her, her face all red and his ears were filled with moans. Y/n then dragged her fingers from his back to his shoulders and then down to his buff chest.

Y/n felt herself close to coming. She let's out another moan and then tightened around Soap's cock, he moans feeling her tighten around him.

"Come on, mo luaidh (my darling), cum for me," he groans as she did what he asked, she ended coming on his dick, he pulls out and watches as cum leak from her clit slowly.

He bends down and starts licking her clean. Her hands held the end of her silk nightgown lifting it up as Soap was cleaning her up.

The retired Sargent, sits up on his knees smiling down at his wife and picked her up taking her to the bathroom.

He places her on the sink and starts a bath. Making sure it was hot and then placed some bubbles in the bath, Y/n removes her silk nightgown placing it on the floor and Soap picks her up and placing her gently in the bath.

"I'll be right back," he says, kissing her lips and heading out of the bathroom, she could see him snatch a clean pair of boxers and hurried to put them on.

She messes with the bubbles in the tub and cupped them in her hands and placed it back on the bubbles. Soap comes back with two glasses and the red wine he poured before.

He gives her one and then held the other, he leans on the side of the tub to watch his wife, his head resting on his arm, she talks to him and he listens.

"Do you want wash you?" He asked.

"Yes," she says as he grabs a loofa and puts her body wash on it. He starts to gently rub it on her arms, shoulders, she gently stood up. He then washed her stomach, back, between her legs, thighs and butt.

----------

30 Minutes Later

Y/n was on the bed with Soap holding her against his chest as she reads her book and Soap was watching TV on a low volume so Y/n could read her book.

She flips the pages with one hand and then other played with his arm hair as his left hand rested on her thigh and the other resting against her stomach and that hands rested close to her butt and he gently tapped her side to a random beat.

She closes her book, placing it on her nightstand and then looking at the TV to see what Soap was watching. Soap has been on a kick on watching old documentary's about old military planes, and wars that had happened in the past.

"What's this one about?" Y/n asked.

"Old planes and Vets stories about war," he says.

"Oh," was all she said as she cuddled up to Soap closing her eyes and falling asleep.

----------

Next Morning (6:00AM)

Y/n had woken up to her alarm, groaning as she turns it off, she rolls over to face Soap, he was big spooning her, his eyes closed and he looks peacefully sleeping.

Y/n kissed Soap's lips and got out of his buff arms, she gets up like normal, brushing her hair, and starting her shower getting in and washing her body and hair.

As the water run, Soap wakes up and hears the water, he rolls over seeing the bathroom light on and the door cracked trying not to shine the light on him as he slept.

He stretched up and got out of bed. Heading downstairs to then make tea for Y/n and himself some as well, Soap doesn't drink tea as much as Y/n, she only drinks it to be calm before she works.

Y/n walks downstairs seeing her husband making the hot tea, she was in a towel around her body and another holding up her hair. Soap smiles seeing her.

"How was your shower?" He asked.

"Fine," she yawns as she was handed her mug taking a small sip. Soap walks behind her placing his hand on her hip kissing her temple as she sipped from her mug again.

"Go get dressed and I'll make you some breakfast," he says as she walks upstairs getting dressed and taking her damp hair out of the towel.

Soap had made her some waffles and she ate before going back upstairs to do her hair, make up and grabbing her purse and heels.

"Okay, I'll see you later, John."

"I'll see you, later mo luaidh (my darling)." He kissed her lips and he watched her leave for her work.

[katyspersonal]

Idk if you have enough to say since he’s a fairly minor character but can you give thoughts on the Hornsent (NPC)? I love him so much and I absolutely agree that he’s a huge parallel to Marika herself and I wanna hear more of your thoughts on that and him in general!

Hey, he is not THAT minor! xD All seven NPCs that were attracted by Miquella and are our guides through SOTE's lore are pretty much in the spotlight! Elden Ring's story just has these important Demigods and characters more strongly involved with them that their gravity makes it harder to focus on the Little Guy 😔 (and all Thiollier fans laughed sfdhfdh)

Okay so uhhh, I will post observations and thoughts in order, because yeah, with this guy you sort of need to pay attention twice or something?

1) He originates from Belurat

The kind of mask he is wearing could've created some confusion, but "the tower" exclusively refers to Belurat in the lore!

Freyja states this much at the beginning, and it is admittedly easy to forget because most likely you check this dialogue just on the first playthrough and before what 'tower' is clicks properly.. but yeah!

A more bold evidence here is that Hornsent will recognise the meal that is trademark of Belurat!

2) Don't be confused though, Grandam is not his mother!

He states in dialogues upon being killed by Leda and if he was not summoned to fight Messmer that his child, wife and mother were killed during Crusade!

2.1) He doesn't mention father nor gender of a child, though?

I think this on itself is interesting, and opens a bit more for potential backstory! His father might have been dead before the Crusade, or... maybe even divorced. x) Or maybe, he survived the Crusade, like Hornsent himself, but perished for another reason; maybe old age, maybe even upon seeking revenge as well? It would still make sense for him to not mention his father even then, because he would not count as massacred IN purge of the Tower!

Saying 'child', not 'son' or 'daughter', also gave me a kinda fucked up idea, listen! What if this means something? For example, his wife was merely pregnant, or the purge happened at the time when she just gave a birth, so he never learned whether it was a son or a daughter? I know I should not make it even darker than it already was, and it is probably just to specify the 'status' (he does say 'wife' rather than calling her by the name, after all)... But imagine...

In any case, his child was still very little! In Japanese he refers to his child as '幼子よ', and I checked... Yeah, it refers to basically an infant, it seems!

3) He is very reluctant to make a connection, even under spell!

After Tarnished gives him the Scorpion Stew, he gives them Furnace Visage (useful item for killing two Furnace Golems that can't be killed normally and to "wake up" one blocking the way in Ruins of Unte). His motivation is, "I desire not to be in your debt"!

And he refuses if you try to give him another Scorpion Stew:

The last phrase (お前と、慣れ合うつもりもな…) is more accurately says something like "I have no intention of getting used to you"! The only thing Miquella's spell did was to give him hope, but he can't open up even to "comrades"!

4) He is not likely to be a potentate, despite his mask!

He is wearing the mask that is otherwise worn by potentates, however, there is something else about potentates:

By the practice of his village of birth! It looks like this is basically a "family business" inherited through generations, something Hornsent already is probably excluded from, since he is one of the people of Belurat!

I think the simpler explanation for why he has this mask is not its context but its practical purpose: "to ward off thoughts and distractions (from his honorable quest of revenge)"! He must remain focused on vengeance; no friends, no falling into despair, no "wax nostalgic 'bout days gone by"... I also played around with the idea that this mask was from his mysterious never-mentioned father rather than something he picked somewhere! Maybe he was one of those Potentate barbarians that somehow climbed social ladder a bit by marrying a woman from Belurat! Don't know whether it is something possible in this society, it is hard to tell :p

Hornsent also doesn't use trademark weapon of Potentates, their butchering knife, but his weapon Falx - something created with the purpose of vengeance! I think it implies that he was not even a fighter before, and only started to wield weapon to begin with FOR vengeance!

4.1) He must not oblivious to where it comes from, though, so what does it say about his character?

Regardless of whether the mask comes from, I doubt he doesn't know its actual origin! I am positive that the people who executed Shamans are long ago dead, but the practice itself is alive. Besides, even Hornsent themselves get this treatment if they've convicted:

So you'd wonder what he is feeling avenging "his beloved people" who put other people in jars, and whether there is some hypocrisy, right? Well, I THOUGHT there was some awareness:

It makes it sound as though he is, at the same time, aware that his folks are not perfect either, and believes in Miquella's new world to fix their flawed, even barbaric culture as well, right? I double checked for Japanese text, and I do not really see it as translation mistake?

ミケラが、その誓いを違えず、一族をも救う神となるのなら

一族を、救って…

In Japanese, he uses 救, which means to 'save' or religious kind of 'salvation'! To 'redeem' doesn't seem to be too far removed from original meaning, but I'd say this gives off more of the vibe of 'salvation' that is justice for the martyred, for those who were murdered unfairly! Justice of God upon sinners and to help out the victims, rather than the 'cleanse our sins' kind of 'salvation'!

Maybe I am looking at it through the wrong angle, but I also kind of like this interpretation more! He is not exactly in the mindset to question imperfections or straight up hazardous religious practices of his nation when the wound of losing his own family, and countless other families being burnt in "cleansing" is what defines his whole life now! Hornsent culture deserves to be criticised, but it is not his priority for the long time now, maybe never again, and it is fair enough!

^ Another line pointing towards him certainly not having "criticism" towards his clan nor intending to, as this is translated very plainly:

…よくも、我らを汚物と呼んだものだ どちらが真に汚物なのか、自分でも知っていただろうに！

5) He disrespects Leda without crossing her boundaries

He never once addresses her by name! It is not just how he is, as he addresses not just Miquella by name, but also Marika and Messmer, his sworn enemies! However, Leda he addresses only as:

The thing is, she is not just Leda, she is Lady Leda! She has the title by her knightly status, and calling her by the name is something reserved only to either close people or those who wants to be an asshole on purpose x)

He surely would not call her Lady, and it could be not quite personal but just because he chronically dislikes Tarnished! But he also would not shorten the mental distance between them by using her name without honorfic. I think it is a neat detail!

6) He doesn't use the flasks to heal!

I actually only learned it from @slavonicrhapsody here ( x ) as I was not paying attention, but, yeah! Developers actually bothered to differentiate him by not having him use flasks, a thing of the Erdtree, that fits the lore!

7) His invasion location might be not coincidental!

Hornsent still invades us even if we helped him to complete his revenge upon Messmer because FromSLOP hates us and our desired bonds with the characters in case you haven't noticed that upon finding dead bodies of Ansbach and Thiollier lmao. But his invasion location is particularly quite close where Romina is, and in the place full of Scarlet Rot+! And Romina is herself form Belurat!

Perhaps, even though he called us a "comrade-in-arms", maybe meeting her made him turn upon us after all? Sure, he does say that after all, he doesn't wish Miquella's help but only vengeance upon everyone under Erdtree, but come on, dude, we are friends now!

But maybe meeting another Belurat survivor face to face after a long time knocked him back to his previous mindset harder, and he decided that "no, not a single person of Marika's world deserves to be spared, not even my comrade that helped me"! As opposed to just thinking up of a change of a heart on his own! It is one thing to keep the 'idea' of victims he is avenging in his mind as his compass, but another to meet one face-to-face, to see her living in the ruins now and latching onto twisted Eldrich God of endless death-and-rebirth that was not meant to be released similarly to Formless Mother! This is a far cry from Hornsent's religion and their worship of Divine Beasts from Heaven, Romina is "ruined" and so is the nature itself in some way, and it is all Messmer's and Marika's fault...

8) Another nameless character!

There are other characters in Elden Ring who abandon their names and instead take up titles that reflect their new purpose (like Dung Eater or Goldmask)! I can only assume that he forsaken his name, instead simply using title of his nation as one, after he lost his family. "The man I used to be died in the fires with them" kind of thing...

This is just an idea that I like, but I think if he was to ever find new relationship, he'd allow this person to refer him by the name or a nickname they pick for him! But he never wants to use his former name again. He might try to start a new life in the best case scenario, but never repair anything from the former one. Things once broken... you know.

9) You KNOW where his mapping skills come from!

He doesn't just also follow Miquella, but is an invaluable help to the team in picking and mapping his exact traces! He has been pursuing Messmer and his forces before in vengeance, and needless to mention that the size of Elden Ring's world is only scaled down for the sake of a videogame not making your brain AND computer explode x) He for sure needed a lot of spyoning, researching and seeking to both find his ways and not prematurely die.

I just think it works better if he lived comfortably in Belurat, a pretty high-class place, and HAD to develop both fighting and mapping skills as a response to his trauma and craving for revenge... I know there ARE military forces in Belurat too, but he is not exactly an armoured warrior, nor a Curseblade. And think about tragic drastic change of a character.... Miquella's charm sort of put those developed skills to a good use.

10) I am not sure what to think of his face data!

(From video by Zullie the Witch ( x )) I just had a flashback in black-and-white filter to the guy that passionately tried to prove us with the foam at his mouth that Fromsoft was super lazy, and honestly... all his arguments were super wrong, yet he never would mention something like THIS! You can absolutely tell that developers created one of these characters first, and then made the other one atop of these sliders instead of making a new one. 🙄

@slavonicrhapsody suggested that burnt marks on Hornsent's face could be from him surviving the purge, and I totally like this idea! Them making a unique character first with clear idea in mind and then remembering "ah, shoot, right we need a few annoying invader NPCs too" makes more sense! Especially since Potentates invaders are all generic, without variants! Basically, I think Hornsent holds priority in this kind of face data for obvious reasons, but, god, if they picked another type of beard, why not remove burnt marks? 🙄🙄 #FromSLOP

__________________

Tbh I already liked this character instantly upon first jumping into DLC! According to my friend @val-of-the-north people were thinking he was kind of an dick, which apparently absolutely went over my head as I didn't feel this way? Maybe it is because I am both familiar with distrusting other people as person with PTSD and not familiar with "being polite" as a concept as an autist lol dhsfh

I just found him intriguing, but his monologue after being summoned for Messmer scared me a little bit. The way he grows more obsessed with revenge, and doesn't intend to stop only at people who were actually guilty... Fun fact: I've summoned him on Messmer's arena by pure accident! XD I didn't know it could be done, I just randomly saw a summon sign while running from Messmer all over the place fhshfds Apparently it was a good call, because most people skipped this turn of character on their first play?

Also unpopular opinion, but I think him being "unlikeable" on some sort of objective level is good? I feel very strongly about the whole mindset of 'only feeling compassion for the 'good victim'' that lingers in society. Like... gooooood forbid if the victim becomes angry, or ends up hurting the world back, or otherwise develops the unlikeable traits, right? Only soft "likeable" victims that just weep and clearly never did anything wrong before OR after their trauma deserve compassion, right? (Slavonic I am using all my willpower to not link your post about Beebus rn fsdhfdhs) I think Hornsent developing negatively as a person is good and realistic. I praised the base game for how Dung Eater and Mohg were executed (not everyone who opposes the oppressive system or was a victim of it is automatically a good person), but Hornsent is not even a villain, and it is even better! He is "not good victim", and it doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve sympathy and recovery!

At the same time, really good character in his function, to show how revenge will only endlessly create more revenge infinitely! I think he deserves better than being automatically written down over what his mask item is given all the other context, and he definitely deserves all the "I can fix him" Tarnished bitches. 😔😔😔

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Ry’s Blurb of the Week!

Purpose: The purpose of these mini one-shots is to gauge audience reactions to different pairings and dynamics. By exploring various relationships in short, self-contained stories, I can assess which characters and connections resonate most with readers before developing them further in longer works. I can also get little ideas out of my mind. Also I can practice on my fluffs💙🩷

Note: Blurbs are exclusive to my tumblr as my long form fics are exclusive to my Ao3 account. 💜

Roman/Rhea - Jump..

The wind howled past Rhea’s ears, tugging at her hair, her clothes, her breath. She stood at the edge of the cliff, staring down at the abyss below. The canyon stretched out like an open mouth, waiting to swallow her whole. The drop was steep, the kind that made your stomach flip just looking at it.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt something close to fear.

Not the kind of fear she felt in a match, that exhilarating, controlled chaos. Not the fear of losing, of failing, of coming up short under the lights.

No, this was something primal.

Something real.

“You’re outta your damn mind,” she muttered, keeping her feet firmly planted on solid ground, her pulse hammering in her throat.

Behind her, Roman chuckled. That deep, effortless sound that pissed her off because it meant he wasn’t worried. Not even a little bit.

“Nah,” he said, stepping up beside her. “I’m just tryna remind you who the hell you are.”

Rhea clenched her jaw.

She knew who she was. Or at least, she had.

But ever since losing her title, something inside her had cracked. She was trying to play it cool, to act like it didn’t kill her to watch Iyo hoist that belt up while she stood empty-handed. She told herself she was fine. That it was just another bump in the road.

But deep down, she felt like she was being choked out.

Roman saw it.

He always saw it.

So when he told her he had something planned to “wake her up,” she hadn’t expected this. Base jumping off a goddamn cliff.

Her fingers curled into fists as she stared at the void below. “This is supposed to fix my confidence?”

Roman smirked, standing close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. “Nah. But it’ll remind you that you don’t need a belt to be her.”

Her nostrils flared, irritation bubbling under her skin. He made it sound so easy. Like her entire identity wasn’t wrapped up in being the best.

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “This is insane.”

Roman moved behind her, his fingers brushing against her waist as he adjusted her harness, securing the straps with deliberate precision. He was too close, the presence of him solid and calm, and despite her best efforts, it made her stomach twist in ways that had nothing to do with the jump.

His voice was low when he spoke, right at her ear. “You trust me?”

A loaded question.

Rhea swallowed, her throat tight. Trust? That was dangerous. That was something she didn’t give away lightly.

But when she looked at him, at the steady calm in his dark eyes, the answer was already there.

Yeah.

She did.

She trusted him more than she had trusted anyone in a long, long time.

Roman must’ve seen it written on her face, because he smirked, nodding toward the ledge. “So what’s it gonna be?”

Rhea looked down again, at the dizzying drop, at the nothingness below.

The wind whipped around her, sharp and biting.

This was a choice.

She could turn back. Walk away. Stay in this rut, let the doubt creep in, let it consume her.

Or she could take the leap.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

She turned to Roman, her breath uneven, her adrenaline surging. Then, before she could overthink it, she grabbed the straps of his harness and yanked him close.

“If I’m doing this,” she whispered, her lips almost grazing his, “you’re coming with me.”

His eyes were filled with something dark, something unreadable.

Then, to her surprise, he grinned.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

And then she jumped—dragging him down with her.

The air ripped past them, the wind like a scream in her ears. For a split second, she wasn’t sure if she was falling or flying. Her stomach twisted, her breath caught in her chest, and a rush of pure adrenaline slammed into her harder than anything she had felt in the ring.

Roman was laughing.

The deep, rumbling sound sent a pulse through her veins, grounding her in the freefall. She turned her head slightly, watching the way his face lit up in pure exhilaration, the way he looked at her like he knew—

This was exactly what she needed.

Her heart was hammering, her veins buzzing, her entire body alive in a way it hadn’t been in weeks.

For the first time since losing her title, she felt free.

Then, with a quick, practiced motion, Roman deployed his parachute, the force jerking them upward. She followed a split second later, her body jolting as the wind caught her. They glided down together, the canyon stretching out beneath them, the river sparkling under the early morning light.

Roman turned to look at her, that damn smirk still on his lips. “Told you.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. Actually smiling.

Her pulse was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t from frustration. It wasn’t from anger, or self-doubt, or the crushing weight of expectation.

It was exhilaration.

Maybe losing her title wasn’t the end of her.

Maybe, just maybe—this was the start of something even bigger.

Damn Samoans and their crazy acts of gaining one’s confidence…

[asukaindetroit]

DBH Drabble: Reed900 Turning Down an Offer from Captain Allen

Going off the tags from my Captain Allen headcanons yesterday, I wrote this random-ass drabble of how exactly he and Gavin would probably get into a pissing contest over who got to work with Nines. Maybe I'll use it for something at some point, IDK. Featuring established Reed900, Dad!Hank, and policedudes lurking at the precinct the day after a riot. Dialogue-heavy. Canon-typical language and police talk, nothing explicit. Randomly gave a name to the ST300 receptionist because she needed one.

Fowler’s glass wall unfogged, revealing Captain Allen from SWAT to have been his visitor. He carried the resigned air of a cop with too much paperwork to do as he opened the door and dropped down the handful of steps into the bullpen, drawing up when he spotted the gaggle of detectives at their desks—specifically, he zeroed in on Nines, approaching the largest RK unit. “Nines! Thanks for the hand yesterday.”

The android frowned—this seemed a bit congenial for the blunt man, based on their past interactions and those he’d seen from Connor. And a bit of a flip from his demeanor mere moments before. “Captain,” he acknowledged, “it’s good to see you again. I hope your unit fared well?” he inquired, LED a polite and peaceful blue.

“Yeah, they’ve got the usual scrapes and bruises, but they’ll be fine. But hey, listen, you were amazing yesterday, the way you plucked that one perp out of the crowd, like pulling a weed—absolute poetry. Ever considered a transfer to SWAT?”

Ah. There it was. Allen was friendly because he was recruiting. Nines stiffened, knowing he’d tried this on Connor a few times since the revolution—and before November 2038, the captain had even put in inquiries to Cyberlife about purchasing RK800 units for SWAT once they went into production. Apparently, Connor had impressed him on his activation day the August prior, and Nines had now managed the same.

>> Mission Objective: Decline Captain Allen’s Offer

“Whoa whoa whoa, Allen,” Gavin paused in his usual morning routine of snarking at Connor and inhaling coffee to square off with the captain, “no poaching my partner, fuck off.” Based on their prior discussions, Nines liked solving crimes more than he did putting his military build to its intended purpose. Detective was a better fit for that than the more militarized SWAT unit. And Gavin had plenty of… personal motive to keep his favorite RK unit close.

“Reed, stop hissing like a fuckin’ alley cat; it’s not your call. He’s wasted on the likes of you with his skills.” The captain glared down at the scrappy detective.

Do not worry, Gavin. I have no desire to work for Allen, Nines thought.

“Oh yeah? The fuck's that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, maybe that you don’t need a bulletproof chassis to stare at evidence?”

Across the room, a ST300 named Jamie Estee took offense to the conversation and opened a group link to message Nines and Connor both, —They’re arguing over you like they own you, Nines; stop them! You’re your own person!—

Gavin could feel his face flooding apoplectic purple as he got worked up, “what, like SWAT has exclusive rights on getting shot at? Kinda wish I was bulletproof sometimes, sheesh. ‘Sides, Nines is good at more than you wanting to use him as a shield! He’s smart and good at analyzing shit… and he’s my partner and you can’t just stroll in and try to take him where he doesn’t want to go.” Mentally, he willed Nines to take a stand for himself. Feel free to chime in anytime, big guy, otherwise I’m gonna tear him a new one.

Hank wasn’t going to leave it alone, either, picking up on Nines’s stiff posture as the discomfort it was. “Hate to agree with Reed on anything, but fuck off, Allen; my boys can make their own calls on their careers. Nines coulda signed on to SWAT when he joined, but he picked here instead.”

—Be fair, Jamie, Gavin isn’t actually saying anything I don’t agree with,— Nines chided the android woman for misinterpreting his partner.

—What, that you wish he was bulletproof, too?— Connor joked into the group chat. LEDs danced in rings of yellow between all the androids.

—That would make my life easier, yes—  Nines acknowledged. —But I meant about not wanting to join SWAT, Gavin and I have had that conversation,— he added for Jamie’s benefit.

Finally chiming in out loud, Nines put his foot down. “Enough, please! Captain Allen, I appreciate that you think highly enough of me to offer, but they’re correct. I prefer working as a detective.”

“Nothing I can do to change your mind?” Allen was clearly disappointed to be turned down by a second RK unit.

“If my decision ever changes, I will be sure to let you know. But I’m firm in my choice.”

You tell ‘em, big guy! Gavin cheered him on in his mind.

—Well said, Nines! 😊— Connor praised in the group chat with Jamie. Nines had no idea why his brother felt the need to include a smiley face emoji when everyone involved could see the soft smile on his face in person, but it was a uniquely Connor quirk.

“Fine, fine, I get the idea. Can we at least consult either of you if we need additional support?” Allen was a persistent bastard; they’d give him that.

“If Captain Fowler asks us to support your unit, we’re of course happy to assist.” Connor allowed, eager to please but wanting to make sure their boundaries were respected: they were detectives assigned to Captain Fowler, and would only listen to his chain of command.

“Just remember, Allen, you try and requisition Nines and I will tag along for the ride,” Gavin added, hoping the threat of Nines showing up with a belligerent asshole as an accessory would be a deterrent. Let it never be said the man lacked the ability to play to his strengths.

“Whatever, Reed.”  Allen waved off the shorter male and made his excuses to leave.

Watching him go, Hank whistled long and low, “Damned if that jackass doesn’t have a hard-on for anybody with an RK at the front of their serial number. You’d think he’d give up already.”

Gavin choked, sputtering on the thought. "Like fuck do I need that mental image, Anderson. Staaaahp,” he whined. “Maybe we can recruit an SQ-series or something, distract him with an ex-military guy.”

“Nah, I know, we’ll find the body of Connor’s evil twin, send him that guy and a roll of duct tape and tell him to learn some DIY.” Hank spoke callously, still pissed off at the duplicate’s actions.

————————————— …Yeah that's all I've got for now. If someone else wants to turn this into an Allen60 thing, go for it.

[jarofstyles]

In The Woods- Scarred

Hello my loves! I know it took a while but here is the second part to scarred. I'm unsure if I'm going to do a lot more with them besides some blurbs but that could change :)

Read the first part Here

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WC- 7k

warnings- mention of anxiety, scarring, bullying, halloween, exhibitionism, mask/makeup kink, unprotected sex, degradation, slight fear play(??)

Enjoy xoxoxo

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Harry was shy. 

Y/n hadn't expected that stunning revelation in the time that she knew him, but without the layer of makeup? The man was cute. Fucking adorable, even, because he was a blushy mess.

It was apparent how Harry did have some issues with doubting himself and that just wasn’t going to cut it with Y/N. She knew that his anxiety was valid, that he had gone through things that made him think the way he did, but it only gave her a challenge she was more than up for. Flirting with him, making it apparent how absolutely gorgeous he was to her, and making him blush. 

His trust had been one of the most precious things she had ever been handed and she wasn’t going to do anything to put that into jeopardy. When she arrived back at work when people saw them arrive together, she had been bombarded with questions about him. What he looked like, how he was outside of work, but they got no answer other than ‘handsome’. When asked if she had any images, she blankly stared at the group. Of course she didn’t take any photos, because why would she betray his trust like that? 

‘He doesn’t want to share and he’s a private person. We’re dating and I got to see a part of him he doesn’t feel comfortable sharing here, and I’m not going to betray his trust for some gossip.’ 

Y/N’s mom-like scolding had them backing off, but she could see Harry lingering off to the side with a smirk on his face as he adjusted his costume. Droplets of fake blood crackled a little when he met her eyes in the mirror. He was pleased with her.

She didn’t even know how much it meant to him. To have a safe person. She sung his praises without giving anything away and to be honest? He had been shocked at how well she’d handled constant prodding from overly curious and downright nosy coworkers. They’d all quiet down or walk away when he came over but Y/N would remain there, standing pretty and smiling at him as he approached. 

“Got eaten alive?” He murmured, helping fluff her purposely messy hair. “Poor thing. Nosy fuckers they are, hm?” The tone of voice was low, just for the two of them to hear. She could see his dimple under the makeup, making her want to poke at it but she refrained. It wasn’t the time. 

“Yeah. S’a shame. Eating me is your job.” A coy glance made him stiffen for a second before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head at his girl’s antics. She’s been shameless this whole time. Their established relationship had gone on 2 weeks now but they’d kept it under wraps, all the while she would follow him home or vice versa. Their sex wasn’t stuck to one place anymore, and Harry took full advantage of the positions he could get her in a proper bed or bent over a kitchen counter. Adventurous sex had been a new one for him, and he was taking full advantage. 

“It is, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Shame I couldn’t do it before we came. M’starved.” Painted fingers pulled her in by the corseted waist, letting her lean back to peer at him. “I expect a three course meal after we leave. Maybe four, but I know we’ve been working on getting you there. Maybe tonight will be the night, hm?” 

Another new revelation in their blooming relationship was how utterly obsessed her new boyfriend was with giving her pleasure. Orgasms galore, so much so that she felt a near constant state of sensitivity- but she couldn’t complain. Not when she reaped the benefits of his generous nature. She found his mouth or hands in her more often than not, and if there would be no repercussions there was no doubt in her mind that Harry would crawl on the floor and under her skirt to give her an orgasm before they went out to the attraction- but alas, consequences would be fierce. 

“Let’s keep it calm, big boy.” Her hand smoothed over his chest, patting the warmth of it. “Three is more than enough, but it depends on how good you scare the people tonight.” 

Harry with his chainsaw, it was some sort of foreplay. How he got into a mindset and plotted scares, she could watch form across the way as he revved up the machine and made people sprint. He’d choose the victim of a scare and follow them around for a bit, making them uneasy, all while cornering them closer to Y/N’s section- letting them in for a double haunt that would leave people screeching. 

Realistically, Y/N it was the adrenaline and endorphins, but seeing her boyfriend- yes, she still did a little squeak in her head every time she thought the word- be so good at the job, seeing mid shift when his hair fell slightly in his face and that one curl went over his forehead, she was ready to jump him by the end of the night. He’d find his way over to her a few times a night, brush her dress with his fingers and give her a wink whenever she caught his view, wordlessly promising whatever the hell he wanted afterwards. It was hard to keep her cool when there was something so sexy about seeing him in this sort of element. Confident and hot, she loved watching him know people were both attracted and in fear of him. 

“You know I love a challenge.” He purred, already finding his groove. “Maybe it will be my most terrifying night yet. If you’re the prize at the end of the line, I’m going to give it my all.” Of course he was turning on the charm now, making her flush under her own makeup. He was suave when he did it here, but she knew when they left and the makeup was off he would be a little less smooth with it. A bit more clumsy, and she adored both sides of him. 

“I’ll hold it to you, sir.” She replied, leaning up to leave a little peck on his lips before brushing past him. It was time to see just how bad he wanted it.

—---------

Harry had a point to prove. That much was obvious, watching the glint in his eyes as he stalked past her after his current scare. She was doing her own haunt, which was a lot more different than Harry’s stalk and follow approach. Y/N was more of a jump scare sort of thing, waiting for them to get closer and act just a bit off before deciding to scream and lunge at them. 

His chainsaw hung by his side as he brushed past her, pinning her with his glare. It was full of promise. He was doing incredible tonight, a bit ruthless with his scares and getting people screaming and running. Y/N stayed in her assigned area whereas he had more room to move around, so he was moving them towards her. The guests were shaking, some in particular crying, and she knew that she was most definitely going to be breaking personal scare records tonight. 

It was incredible to watch. With the challenge being given of making it a scarier night and the reward being access to her, he took it seriously. Showing off for her, sending more guests her way for a second half of his scare. He’d loved to watch her get into it, screeching in their faces and going back to acting like nothing happened right afterwards. Y/N was his little devil, his vampire queen, and little did the people know that the bruises underneath the fake blood were all too real, from him. The adrenaline from the scares, the promise of what was to come and the heated glances between the two had him half hard his entire shift, eager to get back to his place to take her- if he could last that long. 

Harry did his best to behave as they went backstage. Keeping his hands to himself, he changed privately and came back out with his leather jacket hanging on his shoulder, a predatory gaze on her while she socialized. He knew she was stalling, teasing as she slowly wiped away the show makeup and fake blood on her skin and neck. Taking her grand old time to hang up her costume and gossip about a group of particularly obnoxious guests they’d had tonight, a school group that had been the worst kind. Teenage boys who tried to ‘scare’ the scare actors. Harry had been the one to scare the shit out of them, following them around and popping out randomly to make them scream. It’d been a good night.

She just needed to stop stalling. His cock was thickening as he watched her cotton pad wipe away the pale makeup, exposing her natural skin and the marks he left remaining on her throat. Her tank top clung to her and the shorts she had worn in were a temptation even before now, his neediness showing when he’d whined when she walked out of his bathroom with them on. It was torture. Y/N had the upper hand here, but she would lose it as soon as they were alone.

As people filtered out and Y/N threw her bag over her shoulder, Harry emerged from the shadowy hall he was hiding in to wrap his arm around her shoulder. His girl jumped before scoffing, nudging him as she let him know how she felt. “You know, I should probably be concerned about how you like to watch me like a stalker after our shifts, but it arouses me instead.” She sighed, admitting the unfortunate truth. She liked feeling his eyes on her, knowing he was thinking about what was to come. 

His makeup was still on, his green eyes exposed instead of the contacts he wore during his scares. It was also probably concerning how much she enjoyed it, but she figured it was akin to having a bit of a mask kink. Roleplay in a sense. Prior to getting to see his natural face, she had only seen the makeup get slightly smudged from the sweat and her mouth, but it was applied there with a firmness most women must be envious of. He had to have gotten the best shit there was. Sometimes she watched from the counter as he applied it with practiced ease, watching the skeletal makeup engulf and change his face. It was like watching him get into character. When the makeup was off, he was a bit more of a shyer boy with her. A little needy and clingy, soft spoken and tender touches. Sweet like honey, gooey and easy to break. With the makeup on? His disguise gave him a filthy amount of confidence, one that had him falling into that dominant, cocky nature she also adored. 

“Eh. You like to be chased and thrown around a bit.” He shrugged, his hand swinging with hers as he made his way to his car. “Don’t think there's anything necessarily wrong with enjoying how your boyfriend admires and follows you around. Especially when you know what lies ahead for you.” There it was. The cockiness that made him smirk, the moonlight hitting him just right so she could see the imprint of his dimple.  

“Mmm.” She hummed, following him slightly from behind. The parking lot was basically empty, but it wasn’t empty enough for his plans. Plus, he didn’t know what sort of security lay in hiding- so he was thinking about his options. He wanted to play tonight. Play a bit more than usual. They only had another week left of this job before they settled into normal life again, the season ending relatively soon. 

Harry helped her into the car, taking her duffle and his own bag to throw in the backseat before fishing his keys from his pocket and sliding into the driver's seat. Turning it into the ignition, he kept his eyes on the road as he began to drive off in the opposite direction of his house. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

—----

Y/N hadn’t known what the surprise was, but she sure as fuck got nervous when the car turned onto a wooded path. She trusted Harry, but she was unsure what the fuck could possibly be up this path that only seemed to wind upwards on an incline. He ignored her questioning, squeezing her thigh and told her it was fine as he smirked. She wasn’t truly distressed but her heart was beating harder as they made it up to an empty gravel parking lot at the top of the hill. 

Her nerves died down as her eyes widened, looking at the view. It was a perfect view of the lake and town below them. She’d never heard of this spot, but she definitely was a fan. He parked somewhat in the middle, letting them look out at the twinkling stars and the town below them, the boats bobbing on the water. The night was cool and he left the windows up to preserve some of the heat when he turned the car off and backed his chair up the most it could go. 

“Never got to fool around the way most people did in school. Know this is a local spot where people come to play… and I know about your exhibition streak.” His hand stroked her bare skin, turned to look at her. “So I figured… Why not now?”

That’s how she ended up on his lap, hands in his hair as he held both sides of her ass. Squeezing, kneading, playing with her like his own personal toy, Harry was enjoying it thoroughly as she gently rocked on top of him. His mouth was greedy for her own, surely smudging some of the black and white makeup onto her skin but she didn’t care. Sitting on his thicker thighs, letting him touch her as he pleased, she was only focused on how good it felt to kiss him. 

“Such a pretty girl.” He mumbled as his lips went down her neck. “D’you know how happy it makes me to know they all know you’re mine?” It more than pleased him. Harry had never been as proud of having a girlfriend as he was with Y/N. She genuinely liked him, she saw both sides and didn’t prefer either one. Instead, she embraced him and went with his sometimes erratic flow, never seeming to mind. 

“They’re jealous.” She replied, leaning her head back as his mouth worked over the sensitive skin. His teeth nipped, of course, lips attaching to suck another mark she could hide with her hair as she continued. “Jealous I’ve got you. Some act happy but… they ask how I managed to get to know you. Said you never hooked up with anyone before me… And that makes me very happy.” Y/N had a possessive streak of her own, something that Harry fucking loved. He loved watching her pride when she walked with him, both in and out of makeup, and watching the slight irritation she had when people dug a little too deep into wanting to know about them. They never knew Harry was watching from the shadows, almost always following his girl around from a distance. She knew, though. She would shoot him looks to where she thought he was hiding, making him like her even more. 

“Know it does, my possessive girl. You don’t like t’share, hm?” He purred as he pulled back from the fresh mark. “Pretend to complain about the marks I leave on you but you leave ‘em out so they can see. You like them knowing you’re satisfied. Love that they know I’m the one fucking you.” It sent tingles up his spine knowing that. He’d been so used to people being ashamed of him that seeing her be so protective of him was just as arousing as it was heartwarming. 

His fingers strayed from her ass to find the waistband of those pesky little shorts, sliding them down so he had full access to her. He didn’t see her usual pantie line when she’d emerged from the changing booth and he was proven correct as she gasped. “Look at you. Naughty thing, walking around without panties… Why’s that? Thought you loved it when I stuffed them in that pretty mouth to shut you up.” He cooed, sliding one hand down to her cunt, cupping it to make her gasp. 

“I-I wanted it to be easier for you. You were teasing me all night and they were ruined anyway.” It wasn’t something she’d admit to anyone else, but the scaring with Harry aroused her. She loved making people scream, loved watching her boyfriend do the same with no fear in his eyes. Loved even more so when he moved them into her scare zone and helped her out with one. Then he had been following her around with that glint in his eye, always fucking watching her. Y/N loved it, loved that he was always there. There was probably a psychological reason, but all she knew was that her poor underwear had been soaked through. 

“Oh?” He chuckled under his breath. “Should’ve known. You do tend to be a mess when we scare together. Even more than when I just follow you around. Something’s wrong with us, hm? But we don’t care.” He pressed his lips to hers as his thumb found her clit, humming as she gasped against his mouth. She was slippery and wet, his favorite way for her to be as he played with her, rubbing circles over the little swollen button. “No, you like when things are wrong. Like to be watched and followed by me until I bend you over in that dressing room and shove my hand down these slutty little shorts. You taunt and tease and then act surprised when I fuckin’ ruin you.” 

Y/N keened, rubbing herself against him as he moved his thumb on her. Everything he said was the truth so all she could do was nod. She’d been so worked up during the night that even this felt good enough to orgasm from, his rough circles and deep voice getting deep into her head and igniting the flames in her belly. 

“Yeah? Just nodding, can’t even deny it. Knew you wore those to spite me. You just love the idea of someone catching us. Filthy girl, I know you. Know what your body likes.” He rubbed a bit harder, feeling her lean further into him as he did so. “What part has you humping my hand like you’re in heat? Was it feeling my eyes on you all day? Having people be jealous of us? Scaring people?” Y/N couldn’t speak, just whining as she nodded. All of the above.  

Y/N would have been ashamed of how quickly she was about to cum if he hadn’t been tormenting her all night. Like he didn’t know how much those things got to her. Her nails dug into the man’s shoulders, breathing heavy as her mouth opened. “I’m gonna cum.” She warned, albeit in a whimpery tone. Harry loved when she talked like that. His thumb was strong and kept up the movements as they were, his hand holding the back of her neck to keep her forehead pressed to his. 

“Go ahead. Make a mess of my lap, sweetheart. Can’t believe how worked up you are.” He cooed. He could, actually. Considering he was just as wound up, he was throbbing inside of his pants but preferred her pleasure over his own. “C’mon, baby. Can feel it.” 

He could tell as she began to fall over the edge, her body moving to hold onto his harder and her head falling into his own as his thumb continued the movements to work her through it. She let out a desperate moan, shivering in his arms. Harry loved making her cum, it was one of his favorite things to do- and getting to see each thing, hear each moan, he was only feeding into the addiction. 

“There we go, my sweet girl.” He praised. “Just ride it out.” Harry soothed her as the orgasm began to die down, pulling his thumb away as soon as she needed a second to be sensitive and pulling it into his mouth with a hum. His whole hand was wet with her, but tasting her on his skin was another level of hot. 

Y/N knew he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest. Her hand found his jaw and pulled him back for a kiss, drooping on his lap as she kissed him hungrily. The taste of her was still slight on his tongue, making her search for more. Her hands went to his belt, Harry allowing her to undo it and slide it off- but stopped her when she got to the zipper.

“Want t’try something new with you.” He started, suddenly opening the car door and standing up with her in his grip. Her shorts fell off onto the ground but that was the least of her worries as he rounded the front, gently bending her over the hood of his car. The cold metal of the vehicle made her wince momentarily, but his warm palms ran over her immediately to try and make it up to her. The night was chilly but her body was hot from the arousal she felt, his body in between her thighs as she moved for him. 

“Want to take you just like this.” He explained, taking her wrists one by one and placing them to lay behind her back. “And I want you to scream for me. No one’s out here… No one can hear us- or maybe they can.” His hand gave a gentle smack to her ass as he teased. “Just let me take you out in the open. Would’ve done it in the parking lot at work but… Cameras.” He didn’t want anyone else seeing her on video. No, nothing except his own one day. He wanted to have a private folder of the filthy views he got to see, her creaming on his cock, her ass jiggling against his hips, her glossy eyes as he slipped as much as he could down her throat. He wanted to document the pleasure to look at as his own time.  He’d never had someone he liked so much, someone’s body he was so addicted to. 

“Okay, just fuck me.” She panted, wiggling her ass against him. “Just do it, please. Been waiting all night and I need you.” All of this was hotter than most things she dreamt of. Harry taking her out to a wooded clearing, ready to fuck her in his scary makeup over the hood of his car? It sounded like something out of a horror movie about to turn wrong, but she knew he liked her too much. He worshiped her in ways she didn't know possible. It was a fantasy come true. 

“Relax, baby.” He cooed. “Don’t think you should be making too many demands. Y’know I like to be in charge.” She stiffened for a moment as she felt the tip of his cock brush through her folds before arching herself back, whining coming from her throat as he moved back and forth over her clit. “I know you’re achy, know your cunt’s a greedy little thing. M’gonna give it to you but… I just wanted to see this.” He held her by the small of her back keeping her still as he finally began to push in. 

Y/N’s eyes watered as she felt the stretch of him. Relief. She’d been taunted and teased and Harry was finally giving her what they both wanted. He was slow as he did it, his eyes locked at the puffy lips of her cunt as it swallowed him up. Pushing in and taking his time despite a bit of squirming. The wet, spongy walls engulfed him and squeezed tight, spoiling him in the sensation. There was nothing quite like this- quite like her. It didn’t feel this good with anyone else, nor had he ever done it at a place like this. He wouldn’t want to feel it, no other pussy or hole would be as good for him as this one was. Part of it was their emotional connection, he was positive about that, but he swore they had been made for each other physically. Her cunt was made specifically for him to cum in, and his cock to pleasure her. 

Her mouth opened and she let out a moan as he pulled out a little to thrust back in. He could feel his hunger for her growing as he continued, his eyes locked on where they were joined. The light was dim but there was enough moonlight to see her arousal coating him, glistening as he pulled out and pushed back in. It was their warm up, going easy and teasing just a little bit more. 

“Harder, please.” Y/N bleated, trying to wriggle around but to no avail. Harry had her pinned, and she was at his mercy. It would be embarrassing how wet she was getting if she didn’t know how much he loved it. No doubt he was staring at it now, as he always seemed to be mesmerized at how good they looked together. “Please give me more. You’re bein’ mean.” 

Harry stopped, chuckling under his breath as he buried himself to the hilt, prick snug and warm inside of her. Caressing her back, he slid his hand up and down until he got to her ass, squeezing over it. “You think this is being mean to you, darling?” He murmured, grinding himself into her and smirking as he felt her gasp as his cock hit that sweet spot. “I think I’ve been quite nice. Gave you a chance to adjust, didn’t split you open and wreck you. But I should have known better… m’dealing with a needy slut.” His words hissed against her ear as he bent over the car with her, pressing his body into her. “That’s what I get for bein’ a nice boyfriend. What did you want, hm? Wanted that scary man back from work? Gets you wet, we both know. Watching me make people scream, but it's you who wants that. Nasty little whore wants to be ruined.” He pulled up, hand wrapping around the nape of her neck and pinning her back to the car after she tried to follow. “No. I was nice, but you want something else. Want me to show you mean, princess?” His opposite hand came down rough on her ass, making her yelp. “I’ll show you mean.” 

It was gloves off. Y/N should have known she was playing with fire, but she’d been desperate. Harry began to fuck her. Well and truly, fuck her. Hand on the back of her neck pressing her into the car as she cried out into the chilly night air, owning her as her whimpers echoed off the trees. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck- yes.” Her mouth fell open, hard to speak the words she really wanted to. It made her wet, wetter than usual to have her boyfriend take her out and fuck her where they could potentially get caught. He had said this was a makeout spot, a sightseeing destination, but here he was. Pounding her cunt for all it was worth and making it weep. “S’good, s’good, H-Harry…” 

“Yeah? It’s good?” He sneered. “Finally good enough for the little cockslut? Wasn’t enough that I took you out here… bent you over my car and spread your legs like a bitch in heat… mm, no.” His thrusts were deep and hard, making her move and yelp a little bit as he fucked inside. “Been so nice to you lately, been so fucking sweet… Almost forgot about how much of a nasty bitch you can be.” Harry smacked her ass again, the stinging pain making her cunt quiver around him- because this was perfect. Filthy, a little bit wrong, and a little dangerous. 

“Sopping pussy, so fucking needy. Never seen such a dirty girl in my life, but s’why your mine, isn’t it?” He cooed, acting as if he wasn’t pummeling her. Y/N could barely breathe, his rough thrusts making her cheek press harder into the warming metal. She could hear it, hear how messy she was making the both of them and it only made it worse. She was bare and vulnerable to the world and Harr was just taking it, taking care of her and using what she was offering. Ruining her like he had been meant to do. 

“Uh huh.” She gasped, feeling the tears return to her eyes. “I-I’m yours, I’m yours, my body is yours, I want to m-make you happy.” The words were a hiccuped plea, the warm tears growing cold against her skin as the beginnings of her orgasm were starting to take over. Neither of them would last long like this, not after the foreplay and the new situation. She hadn’t expected to be bent over a car in the middle of the forest and fucked into oblivion in the moonlight, no, but this was quickly becoming a favorite. “Face- I wanna see your face, please.” 

Harry paused, smiling to himself as she asked to look at him. He was still in his makeup, albeit smeared, but he knew how much she loved it. He obliged, carefully pulling out and turning her over so her back laid against the hood. “There’s my pretty girl.” His mean persona melted away for a moment as he bent down to kiss her hard, pushing the hair away from her sweaty face. “Adore you. You okay?” He wasn’t a stranger to her crying during sex from the pleasure, but he wanted to double check.

“Mhm.” She was dazed, but so fucking good. He had surprised her for sure, but she loved every part of this. “Perfect. Keep making me cry, Sir.”

His eyes darkened once more at the honorific. Y/N knew how to push buttons, and she did it successfully with him. Maybe she was a glutton for punishment, but she didn’t care. Seeing his face turn like that, even hidden beneath the layers, it made her clench around nothing. “Inside me, please.”

“At least the slut’s got manners.” He scoffed, angling himself as he thrust back in. It was a different view here. Instead of watching her ass bounce against him, he got to see her tits moving under her tank top as he began his thrusting yet again. They were covered in the thin excuse of a top and that simply wouldn’t do. “Why are you hiding from me? Let me see your tits.” He grunted, thumb finding her clit as he stared down at her. Y/N stared at him with a dazed expression for a moment before he snarled, smacking his fingers over her clit. “Know you get dumb on my cock, but fucking listen to me.”

And oh- Oh, Y/N loved that. Maybe there was something severely wrong with her, but she loved when he talked like that. It sent her into a frenzy, her poor abused pussy gushing slightly around him as he smacked her clit again. A keening whine left her throat as she scrambled to lift her shirt up, baring herself to him. It was a little humiliating in the best way. Being basically naked while getting fucked out in the open, her body flushed in heat now so the cold didn’t bother her and sounds leaving her body without her permission. Harry was playing into a fantasy, one she was all too aware of wanting to happen again. Anyone could drive up and see him wrecking her, anyone could watch how good she got fucked. 

“There you go. Not that hard, was it? My pretty, dumb little slut.” The man cooed, fingers finding her nipples, pinching them as he railed her.  “God, you’re making such a fucking mess on me. Gonna put me away wet, hm? Or should I make you suck me on the way back? Bet you would.” He babbled, watching as her breasts bounced at the force of his thrusts and her face pinched in pleasure. The sound of their fucking was audible, the smack of skin hot and heavy as it echoed off the trees. Y/N wasn’t being quiet, much to his delight. Moaning for him, for more, little crystalline tears dribbling out of the corners of her eyes and looking so pretty as they trailed down her cheeks. She was rambling about how good it felt, how much she needed him, and it fueled that evergrowing ego. 

Outside of their sex, he was the sweetest thing. He liked to dote on her and cuddle her, learning her skincare routine and braiding her hair when she was too tired after work. He took her to the park and made their own lunches, trying to expand outside his slightly agoraphobic bubble because she was giving him the affection and confidence he needed. Y/N wasn’t at all ashamed to be seen holding his hand or kissing his cheek, she had changed his life and ways she had no clue of- and giving her the best sex possible was the least he could do. 

During sex she liked him a little mean, which he loved to lean into. But this was a lot, and she was responding so fucking well- he knew from their limits discussion that he was okay to do it, but seeing it actually pan out positively gave him a confidence kick yet again.  

Her babbling continued but got higher in pitch, her eyes continuing to cry as she sniffled and whimpered his name as she held on to one of his forearms with force. “Yes, anything y-you want. Wanna make you happy, Sir. Please, I just…” She let out a little sob. “M’gonna cum. Can I? Please?” The beg was cute, his smirk growing on his face as he looked at the desperation on hers. There was something so erotic about this vision in front of him. Her lips still stained from her lipstick and puffy from their kisses and biting, the tiniest bit of mascara still on her lashes smearing under her eyes, his prior love bites in different stages on her tits- this was fucking heaven and he wished he could photograph it- but that was for later. 

“May I.” He scolded, smacking over her clit again to make her jolt. “Ask properly, and you can.” 

Y/N scrambled to answer as he felt the beginnings of it on his cock. He knew how perfect it felt when she came wrapped around him, but it was even better that she wanted his approval.  “May I cum, please Sir? Please- I can’t hold it, I really can’t, wanna be good, I need to-” Her panicked voice broke as his thumb brushed repeatedly over her swollen clit. There was no way she could hold it. Not when he was looking down at her with that glint in his eye. 

“Do it. Make a mess.” He ordered. “Cum for me, now.” He continued his thrusts as he felt the rapid clenching take over, her back arching and tits thrust in the air as she let go. Creaming around him, shivering as she let out a broken sob yet again, louder this time as she writhed under him. Her hot walls pulsed around him, as if begging for his cum- and he was going to give it to her. 

“Fuck, there’s my girl. Look so fucking gorgeous when you cum f’me, shit.” He grit through his teeth as his thrusts grew sloppy. “Where do you want it? Where does my pretty little whore want that cum?” He didn’t have much time left for her to answer, but her body did it for him. Lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist, pulling him into her as she finally found the words.

“In, inside, inside me, Harry. Cum in me, give it to me, I want it.” She rambled, begging for it. How could he ever say no to that? The desperation, the true yearning for him to bust his load inside of her hot, perfect cunt and paint it white, he couldn’t resist it. His eyes took in the scene in front of him, how her puffy cunt was clinging to him as he pushed her open. The mess of slick and cream forming a filthy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked into her, smeared over the sides. Her trembling thighs and hard nipples moved along with his movement. Her swollen clit that was sensitive to the touch, how he fucking stretched her to the brim. There was nothing hotter than this. 

He cursed loudly as he began to climax, his balls throbbing as he began to spurt his load inside of her. Mouth open and eyes hooded in pure rapture, he watched as his sloppy thrusts inside of her and his cum began to coat him, making even more of a mess between them. It was nasty and hot and perfect for this scenario, a scary man taking a pretty, innocent little thing for all she was worth over the hood of his car in the dark woods. The strength of said orgasm surprised him, making him lean further over and pull her into him. His face found hers, kissing her mouth again as he worked them through the aftershocks of their pleasure, pulling her up so he could hold her against him. 

“My perfect girl. Did so good, always so fuckin’ good for me.” He mumbled against her mouth, giving her the praise he knew she needed. He hadn’t been that mean before and while she enjoyed it, she needed to have no doubts whatsoever about his affections for her. “M’so proud of you. Took it so well, make me so happy, my little angel. Obsessed with you.” He pecked her between sentences, pausing his thrusts to a halt. Staying inside of her for now, he knew it would hurt when he pulled out. There was no rush, only to make sure she was warm. Based off of both of their sweaty bodies, the chill of the autumn night was more than welcome. 

Pulling back from her lips, he stroked the tears that still fell- albeit at a much slower pace- and cleaned her up the best he could. There was no way to feel clean after sex like that and he knew it would be a nice shower when they got back to his place, but he was still going to do a bit of aftercare here and now. “My baby.” He whispered, voice a little hoarse. “Y’alright? Went a bit more intense than normal.” It was a bit of an understatement, really. Her nod in reply wasn’t good enough for him. “None of that. You know I want your words, precious.” 

“M’good.” She whispered, sounding just as tired and fucked as she looked. “So good, but so tired. Loved that a lot.” She clung to him, her achy arms wrapping around his shoulders as he picked her up off of the hood and carried her to the still open backseat. He apologized profusely, cooing at her as he pulled out, but he needed to clean her up.

“As sexy as it is seeing me dripping from you, can’t have my girl uncomfortable.” his lips pressed against her thigh as he gently wiped her clean with the tissues that were conveniently in the car. “Gonna take you home and we can hop in the shower, hm? Grab some food on the way home?” He grabbed her discarded shorts and slowly began to pull them up her legs. “Know I’m not into fast food but you deserve a treat.” 

Y/N perked up, a sleepy smile on her face as Harry’s nimble fingers adjusted her tank top and grabbed his hoodie from the other side of the backseat to pull over her head. He’d seen the goosebumps on her legs. His thoughtfulness aways did astound her. No one would ever guess he just called her a pretty, dumb little slut. He encased her in a soft bubble of affection as soon as the sex was over and she’d never known anything like it before. Hopefully she wouldn’t have any other partners. As early on as it was, as the days passed she began to become sure that the meeting between them was no coincidence. Her finding this job, applying, and catching the one man’s eye who never hooked up with anyone whilst also not in the market to do so, giving into his flirtations, all of it was fate. There was no other option. Something had pulled her in. 

For something meant to be so scary, it sure ended up being sugary sweet. 

“Sounds good.” She sighed, pulling him closer to kiss his puffy lips again. “Can you just hold me for a minute, though?” That vulnerable feeling was different now, in the shadows of their intense lust. It was floaty and soft and Harry was the anchor that made sure she didn’t fly too far away. 

“Course. M’never going to say no to holding you.” In all honesty, if he could do his work all day with her snuggled in his lap, he would. He never felt the need for personal space around her, and as scary as that had felt at first, he knew now that it was just the feeling of a pairing being right. It was early, some may say too early to tell, but he was pretty sure he’d found the one. 

Someone who saw him as more than Scarred.

[katerinaaqu]

What is your opinion on EPIC using Ovid's backstory for Scylla? For me it pisses me off to no end that it decided to use a ROMAN source for a GREEK poem that EXPLICITLY SAYS THAT SCYLLA WAS BORN A MONSTER

The whole EPIC plot pisses me off 😆😆 hahaha what do you think? 😂 (not to mention I still can't get used to the idea that people pronounce her name Shee-la 😂 like in Greek we say Skylla -same sound as when you say "skill" for instance- hahaha I understand that it is the accent of people but dunno still cannot get used to it hehe)

Hehe jokes aside, I agree it pisses me off too when people establish the work of only one writer especially (and I am saying this as someone who ironically also uses Homer as an exclusive source for many things but still try to see how the sources couple with him) someone with as clear purpose to depict gods and figures as badly as possible. It has happened with Medusa and now I only see versions of Ovid here.

On one hand I understand why he did pick this version of it; he wanted for some reason to have this song and a duet to show how Odysseus is the monster now haha but yeah in the Odyssey it wasn't a cognitive creature but a born monster and had nothing personal against someone; just pure survival. She grabbed his men and ate them like any animal would. Her inheritance is very rich too depending on the myth and one of my favorites shows how powerful she is given how she is a daughter of Typhoon and Echidna at that version and yeah I mean EPIC has ended up using the elleged inspiration of Odyssey as a luxury at this point like I feel lucky if I actually find something of the Odyssey in there. I am not surprised that not even the background information is not taken from Greek sources. Even the sirens that even though they are not described in the Odyssey they were thoroughly depicted in Greek AND Roman sources as women with bodies of birds and Jorge chose to use the much more modern version of mermaids instead so yeah I have stopped looking for similarities with any part of ancient greek mythos in that work yet alone from the Odyssey and the background info of the figures in it coming from Greek sources.

Oh well 🤷‍♀️

[piracytheorist]

So I came across this post which does make some interesting points about how the vocabulary we use to describe things in fandom has been influenced by the impact of capitalism, and how we also tend to treat things in fandom like they're products in a market and we are consumers.

But I also looked at the post linked in that post, and I read through the thing and I'm like. God. Thank fuck I read something like this now and not ten years ago when I made my very first effort to write and publish a fic.

I don't want to tag the person who wrote that, because I might very well be misunderstanding their point, but what I get from their words is "You shouldn't write exclusively for validation and if you find joy in what you're writing you won't be discouraged by people not engaging with your fics". Which, look. I get what they're saying. Spitting out fics like a machine just for the purpose of getting kudos and comments without you actually enjoying the whole process and art of writing is an effect of capitalism. It's overconsumption and degrading your art just for the sake of getting clicks.

But here are two important things: WHO gets to judge when a fic is written as a mass-produced word vomit for the sake of engagement? And are you wording that critique in a way that won't make brand new writers feel like they're falling in that category?

Like, I'm thinking about my experience when I first wanted to post fanfic. To be frank, in retrospect the very first fic I wrote and published was... very bad. Hilariously bad to the point that after a few years I wanted to forget I ever wrote it 😂 Now I am good with it, because it was my first effort and it's okay that it was bad. I got better.

But back then, it got one single review. And it was a negative one. One that practically went like "He wouldn't fucking say that" and to be honest? Yeah, he wouldn't fucking say that. But the review felt so disheartening to me. I tried sticking to my guns, I left the fic up for a while, then seeing that it didn't get any attention, with that single negative review on it, i deleted it. I didn't write a single thing for an entire year after that, and when I did, I felt inadequate. I started with small writing prompts and writing exercises, and my tag for those was "[url at the time] wants to be a writer". I wasn't acknowledging those efforts as genuine writing. I was only thinking of them as my "trial period" until I would be accepted in the fandom as a "good enough writer". It took me two more years to actually post a fic on fanfiction.net and on ao3 and feel like "Yeah. I'm actually doing something".

Which, you know, that all was par of the course. I don't feel like I was cast aside or mistreated by the fandom or anything (at least not in that regard...). It just happened that my very first stupid fic got a negative review. And I don't agree with leaving negative reviews on fics but it was just one comment and they weren't even rude so like, yeah, don't do that, but it wasn't the end of the world.

But if I had seen that stance back then? The whole "If you're getting discouraged by lack of engagement then you're writing for the wrong reasons"? Pals I would have completely given up. Because hey. I wrote a thing, it got a negative review, I deleted the thing and didn't write again for an entire year. I was discouraged by lack of positive attention, therefore I was doing it for attention's sake, therefore I did it for the wrong reasons, therefore I shouldn't write again.

Like, again, I get their point. My problem is with the way it's worded, and that it doesn't take into account that we cannot judge people based on that. If we asked Erika Mitchell if she wrote Master of the Universe for the sake of attention she'd be like "Oh no that's my baby!" and I'd be like "Of course it is, it transformed into Fifty Shades of Grey and made you a millionaire" but look me in the eye and tell me we can judge strangers like that. WHAT sets the line between "fic I love and poured my soul into writing it" and "fic I wrote without care just because I want to see those numbers going up", and WHO gets to set that line?

I mean, we could set a line with "Don't use LLMs like chatgpt to write fanfic" but I was once called ableist for saying that so

My issue is that this stance can make newbie writers who are just now posting their first fic feel like they're part of the problem. I think it's very important to point out that most writers want our things to be seen and loved; if we didn't care about that, we would just be writing them and never posting them, because posting your writing can be very vulnerable. That vulnerability can range from "getting hate from fandom bullies" to "getting doxxed and your coworkers seeing your explicit omegaverse fanfic" (which call me dramatic all you like; but there are careers where people can be fired and never find a job again if they're doxxed as having written a certain type of fanfics. I know certain people offline would make sure I never found a job in my career if they discovered my whump account). So yeah, it's a vulnerable choice that we willingly make because we want to share. Posting is about sharing. Why the FUCK would we post stuff, why would we risk all that vulnerability, if we didn't care about people seeing our creations, and if we didn't care about people telling us they loved them? I have written stuff I don't care about sharing, because I love them as they are and honestly can't bother getting into fixing all their mistakes and formatting them into presentable fanfics. That's what you do when you "write for yourself".

So yeah I don't think we get to judge when someone writes only for the sake of attention, and while I understand where that stance is coming from, it needs to be worded in a way that won't make new writers feel like THEY are the problem because the lack of attention on their fic is getting to them. Like, yeah, write for yourself, share for the world - if you want. It's practically impossible to ask of people to not care about the attention their creations will or won't get.

To be honest this whole conversation also included thoughts about interacting with fics through comments, which I also feel comes in a weird wording because I also used to be someone who thought my comments weren't enough. I wanted to comment but being new in fandom and a non-native English speaker I felt that whatever I said wouldn't be enough. Which is why now I'm saying "leave a keysmash, leave an emoji, leave a comment in a different language I can use a translator", because if that reaches even one person who is like I used to be, then that will be a net positive. My point is not to pressure people to comment, this honestly sounds ridiculous to me, if someone doesn't want to comment they just won't. The alternative of a keysmash or an emoji gives the opportunity for people who don't have the words/energy/time/spoons for a long-ass comment to still show their appreciation.

But then there's the "You can't demand people leave comments on your fics if they don't want to". Cool. I'm not. If they don't want to leave a comment they have the option not to and are not obligated to feel bad for it. BUT THAT IS DIFFERENT THAN SAYING PEOPLE WHO GET DISCOURAGED BY LACK OF ATTENTION ARE WRITING FOR THE WRONG REASON.

Because in the instance specifically mentioned in that post, people did love the fic. They did make conversations about it and they were positively inspired by it. There was attention for the fic. And it's honestly absurd to even imply that the author was selfish because that attention their creation got was hidden from them, or because they got upset that people didn't realize that feedback was important to the author. If we are talking about a community, there's no fucking death of the author here. If we want fanfics to be a part of a community, we can give back to the author, and that's not a fucking capitalist view I'm sorry to say. "Give and take" is a basic human instinct. If we're gonna talk with political wording, "from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs" is communism. People give what they can, and receive what they need. The problem is when they create without a need and demand more than others can give. That's capitalism.

Once again (too many times), I get what the original post is critiquing. But we can do that without going to the other extreme, no?