#like. his voice sounds so fucking good AND he’s playing guitar at the same time

[harrylights]

listening to girl crush live at bbc and sobbing

[m1ssunderstanding]

Let it Be Close-watch

Paul, sweety, it's beautiful, but it's killing the vibe.

Ringo looks like a very old, very tired lab rat whose been put through the maze a few too many times

Somehow the air-brown mostly eaten apple is very appropriate.

She looks far too sweet here to ever let John down. Yoko has very kind eyes.

I love how it makes it seem like Paul and John are calling Maxwell “the corny one” but really we know from Get Back that they're talking about a particular arrangement they were trying out for Don't Let me Down.

I swear he's saying “John” there, not “Joan” and also he said “came down upon His head” so… Oh! And Max died in the end in this version? “Sure that Max was dead” Okay. So Paul kills John and then himself. Murder suicide story. Yeah, Paul, you're doing great mentally, we can all tell.

I love how George getting electrocuted was important enough to make the cut for both films. Poor baby. “If this boy dies you're gonna cop it” from the guy who was just singing about a serial killer.

They're so silly

Yoko does not agree with me

Paul: stealing your man, sweetheart. John: oh no I'm being stolen teehee!

They're so silly

Oh wait, were those bitchy looks at George??? Because there he is. Idk could easily be him or Yoko.

this poor autistic baby trying to use words (not his language) to explain music (his language)

“Good MoOornin! Wooah!” I think I just … You know how Mike said people were booing Paul in the theater watching this? Yeah it's because they were pissed he didn't step out of the screen and onto their necks.

Oh Michael put himself in his own movie too? Huh, cool.

They are always in my heart

The way Paul says “get on the mic” to John??? I would've thrown something, that was so fucking bossy! Just his tone and his face and his angry pointing fingers. So mean. And John just goes “okaaay”. Oof.

Ringo covering his eyes like a little kid watching a scary movie during the orange sweater fight. Same, babe.

Sounds like the original lyric John's going for is something long “All I want is you. Nothing else is gonna do.” But that obviously didn't fit with the tune. I wonder if there was a particular conversation with Paul being controlling that made the “everything has got to be the way you want it to” line click in.

Oh my gosh! So George is showing I Me Mine to Ringo and Paul and he says the “I don't give a fuck it can go in musical” line before he even plays it. Not after John's making fun of him like he does in Get Back. Nagra reels experts: which one is correct??

George: it's a heavy waltz. Ringo:*claps hands angrily and punches the air to a ¾ beat. I love him, he's like the core of “Beatle humor” to me.

Woah there! Okay this is the John/Yoko pda Peter Jackson cut, I see. I wonder if there's a lot more footage of them swapping spit that might make the “oh John was just so in love” theory more reasonable.

It's extremely impressive that George just wrote this whole thing last night. You know? John and Paul have brought in all fragments from what I can tell. He's the only one to come in with a basically finished product.

LMAO and we're just going to Apple now. No reason. Nothing happened. Nothing to see. Moving on.

Ringo is so so cute pretending to hide from the cameras. Really he should've been the cute one.

Is it just me or does Paul drop the sillies and get sad when he sings “always be mine” at John? It's his regular voice, too, for a minute, if I'm not mistaken.

Silly cuties. But John's grin and little sexy tongue action happens the second time Paul sings always be mine, so…

What friendly artistic collaboration looks like when it's not psychosexual

Paul: have you played the dubs? George: yeah. Terrible. Paul: Great! Ringo: terrible. John: laughs Paul: (sarcastic) oh, so dreadful. …. John: where's my guitar? Paul: (still sarcastic) well we're just the greatest band ever. Idk I just like this dialogue. It's very them, you know?

This is adorable.

But I also love how they're already communicating with eyebrows, you know? They just bonded so fast and I find that beautiful.

And then Heather ups their game from taking turns going “chchchchch” into the mic to meowing into the mic. She looks at Paul like “okay your turn” and he sets her down lol he's thinking ‘if I meow into the mic right now after John already had a sex dream last night about me, he might actually cream his pants and we can't have that on camera’

Lol Billy just magically appeared!

Paul you're literally so annoying. You started the goofing off and now you're like “alright lads, that's enough.” Mkay.

He is unbelievably sexy and talented though so you know he does have those little things going for him. Someone write me a Paul/Billy fic please!!

Kinda crazy how they all four just slide straight from “Kansas City” to “Miss Ann” to “Lawdy Miss Claudy”. Makes me think of something they might've done in Hamburg.

I'm sorry but Paul finishes “please don't excite me baby. I'm down in misery.” And John's immediate answer is, “well you can get it if you want it, and if you want it you can get it!” And Paul ends up singing “I want it I want it I want it I want it”. Nice. Very subtle, boys. And that's before John gets kinky.

I love how Heather just forces a hug from George and then immediately runs away. What a cutie.

But really. How did anyone watching this get the idea that John hated Paul? Just confirmation bias I guess?

All the cut off conversations kill me but especially the one where John's working though Paul's anxieties. They're just in the middle of it and then cut. “two of us Sunday driving…”

Someone should do a study of whistling in their songs. I feel like it's another one of their tip offs that “hey this one is about us” Anyway I love John's whistling here. He's so good at it. I can just imagine him as some farm boy picking apples, you know?

Imagine booing this poor stay puppy though, like. What? I mean, what if Johann Weiner was wrong and John wasn't crying at the sight of him and Paul playing triumphant together on the rooftop, but at Paul playing his little heart out about their doomed love. Idk it's probably both. Let's be real, John was bawling through the whole thing.

What is George laughing at? Picture quality is garbage because evil corporations don't let you take screenshots of their content, but he looks like that one kid in your elementary school class that just dumped Cheetos all over his crushes desk and thinks he's a criminal mastermind.

Also I do appreciate all the attention given in the chosen shots to the musicianship. I bet they liked that at least if they had the heart to like anything about the movie at the time.

I'm sorry but I love how in sync Mo and Paul are. With this ducking and later the shimmying. I know it's wrong to ship Ringo’s wife with one of the Beatles she didn't sleep with, but… idk I really want her to have bedded all four at one point, you know? She deserves it, being an og.

Okay but yeah I'd be having a public meltdown if I fumbled that too holy fucking shit

Ringo feeling himself as he should

George just looks like he smells nice. Unlike the others. You know?

John has such a beautiful smile. If somebody looked at me like that I'd put him up on a giant screen behind me on my world tour after he'd been dead for forty years too.

That pleeeaaaheeeaaase though. Looking at Paul. How did he survive I'll never know.

The cut from screaming Paul to grouchy nap lady is extremely painful.

John was so cool in this concert. Like the epitome of cool.

Kevin, my love, thank you for your service

I love Yoko leaning so far and craning her neck. She's like a mom at a school talent show. Like “I only came to see my baby.” Type vibe. Which is exactly what she's doing, unlike Mo, and honestly I find both of them extremely valid

You know in movies where the romantic leads are never looking at each other at the same time?

I think I watched George and John switching back on their amps like fifty times because I just love it so much. And from this angle, you can see John's saying something to Paul about it. He looks serious and he's shaking his head. I wonder what he's saying.

Mal Evans I love you forever for this. Look at his hand on the rail, just blocking them off completely, so protective.

Them turning to each other at the end always gets me. It's automatic, like second nature, and it's the last time ever. They deserved better.

Oh Darling duet in the credits are you fucking kidding me??? Was that in the original? “Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh I do.” That's the second time that they gave away in this footage that they know they're talking to each other in their music.

Alright, that's it, I guess. And then MLH is haunted by this experience for forty years until he makes Two of Us to purge the demons.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

nothing but 0.03, m | myg

say you want chokin' all of that strokin' are you enjoyin' this flavor? – 0.03 by ØZI

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, mirror kink, choking, fingering, nipple play, m-masturbation, cum eating, penetrative sex, mild restraint); fwb? yeah, Yoongi's too emotional for that but you're not going to let him in your space, right? wrong.

--

Heavy heat dancing over your skin.

His exhale. Low and slow. The tips of his hair long hair skimming your shoulder, and then his lips, creating the invisible lines, hitting all the subtle erogenous zones with kisses and tongue. Conversation in body language. Complex emotions behind his silence, so apparent that you smiled. The action was barely visible through the messy layer of your own hair pushed forward so he could have more access to your neck. Your fingers glided over his forearms, one across your torso and the other dipping low against your upper thigh. Your back against his chest.

You looked forward.

A single dark brown orb gazing over your shoulder, shrouded in shadow.

His breath against your neck, whispering in that rasp of his.

“Fuck, you look good from every angle.”

You grinned. “Told you you’d like the mirror.”

Any other man, you wouldn’t give a fuck, but this was Min Yoongi and he was different.

His large palm pressed against your breasts. Pinching your nipples, switching between them, sending sparks through your chest with his soft lips working on the back of your neck. Feathering kisses with his roughness. Pressed his other hand into your lower body and pushed your ass into his crotch, letting you feel his hard length swelling slowly. You held back your sound, closing your eyes to soak in the competing sensations. His callused fingers – thanks to his constant guitar playing – rubbing against your hard nipples. His soft lips underneath your ear, sucking gently. His other hand slipping down, down. Tracing the lines. Skimming against the slick of leaking honey. The scent of sex, sweet and potent. His deep shudder, sliding his middle finger into your pussy, making you both gasp at the heat and the tightness.

You opened your eyes.

Yoongi was watching you over your shoulder, following the tension over your torso. Your shoulder against his collarbone, your back arching slightly as his finger slid out and up, rubbing deliberate circles and making your hips buck back into him.

Your inhale skipped, catching in your throat.

“Too much?”

He murmured into your ear, skimming his lips along the curve.

“No,” you breathed. “Just sensitive.”

He smiled into your hair.

Then he began stroking with your clit and teasing your nipples at the same time. Maddeningly, with no discernable pattern or warning, your body tensing and core tightening. Reaching back and gripping his hips, creating lust crescents with your fingernails, covering him with moonlight. Wetness slipping down your inner thighs, the initial shock melting into consistent rising arousal as Yoongi built the rhythm, rolling your hard nipple between his fingertips and stimulating your engorged clit. Switching sides, squeezing your breasts in between, pressing his palms into your tingling skin. His teeth catching your ear, sting of pain, and your head tipped back, your breathy moan bubbling up to the surface, and his deep voice savored your name with possession.

You and Yoongi never had the conversation.

It was pretty damn obvious.

You used sex to feel intense emotion. Yoongi, on the other hand, used sex to avoid certain intense emotions. Neither of you had ever discussed the obvious indecent use of your shared coping mechanism, but both of you recognized it in each other. He was angry at people hurting him. Sad that they could be so selfish and toss him aside like he was worthless, so he hated the world. Sex, then, was for him to feel in control of someone for himself. You, well, you just didn’t care anymore. No one can hurt you if you don’t care. You didn’t need to care if it was just sex.

Physical, carnal, thoughtless.

Yoongi had been immediately drawn to your darkness.

His hand slid up between your breasts.

Closed in around your throat.

His strokes rougher, coaxing the vicious throbs from your hips, your legs locked to avoid clamping down on his hand, gripping him tighter as you bit your lip, the numbing haze creeping up your back and through your mind, gasping his name as he choked you.

Nothing but sex.

His lips on your ear, his breath heating your skin, his rasp, don’t close your legs, let me see all of you, your back arching, your clit aching for release, and you held it back, the tightness rising in your lungs, bloodless, lightheaded, the pressure and roughness of his fingertips, the lewd sound your pussy clenching around nothing, and he choked you harder, biting your earlobe. Your eyes rolled back, something internal snapping, your hips flicking, ravenous throbs shooting upwards, nerves singing, your legs tingling, thrown into the shocking high without any air.

You rode his hand, the violent sting of orgasm consuming your body into delicious shivers.

Yoongi let go your neck and a fresh wave of bliss knocked the wind out of you, causing you to sputter and gasp, the lustful buzz burning through your brain like erotic white noise, moaning deeply as two of his fingers slid into your pussy. Your inner walls immediately gripping him, both of your bodies shuddering as he thrust inside, once, twice, burning breath along the curve of your neck, then teeth, making you moan again at the pain, catching your reflection in the mirror, watching your hips jerk and breasts jut out, bouncing with each deep thrust.

He didn’t have to feel guilty. The selfishness was mutual. Your hands clawed up his sides, losing yourself to the pleasure, letting him push you to the edge again. You could feel pre-cum smearing onto your ass, the feeling of his half-hard cock pressed to your body burning through you. He didn’t hold back. Shoved another finger in, three stretching you out, using all of his skill to hit you at just the right spot, cutting off your gasps as you climbed your high, higher, skin tingling, sanity thinning, his other hand squeezing one of your breasts, your hard nipple between his knuckles, and your back arched, your hair spilling over his shoulder, cumming again, delicious and overwhelming, rolling your hips into his hand to heighten the climax, scorching electricity spreading through your thighs and up your belly, your slick orgasm dripping down your legs.

You turned your head.

Yoongi’s lips found you, trapping you in a ravenous kiss, sharing breath and elation.

You didn’t ask. You already knew it was exclusive. You could feel it in the way he touched you. He didn’t trust anybody to keep their mouths shut anyway. You keeping your silence about him was enough for him to trust you. The first time you were alone with him, he was a little drunk and you had gone outside to ask him if he was okay. He wasn’t. He said he was fine. You had said okay, and both stood there in silence. He had said he wanted to go home. You had followed him to his car but prevented him from getting behind the wheel. He had somehow convinced you he was only getting inside to sit down and sober up. If you didn’t trust him, then you could hold into his keys and sit in the passenger’s seat.

You know.

So you wouldn’t get cold and shit.

“What?” he had asked gruffly as you settled your gaze on him.

You had searched his face, learning.

“Just think you should know that I think you’re good-looking.”

Yoongi had scoffed, shaking his head. It made his long black hair slide forward, messiness covering more of his slim face. “Yeah? This was your master plan?”

“Nope. Only my good fortune.”

His dark eyes darting back to narrow. “People are going to talk about this. About you.”

You noticed he hadn’t said, my friends or even the group. You hadn’t given him a reply. Simply gave him a small little smile. Silence was telling. He had turned his body. Watching you with self-inflicted darkness. Leaning in. Trying to make you flinch. His hand moved, but you focused on his neutral facial expression, seeing a whirlwind of emotions behind the veil. You felt his cool touch skim your knuckles.

“I’ll take my keys back now.”

You clutched the metal tighter.

Sparks flying as his rough fingertips glided over the back of your hand.

“Not yet.”

Closer.

“What if I kiss you?” Dangerous murmur. A warning.

You breathed out. Heavy and heated. “You might like it more than you think.”

You hadn’t told anyone about that intense kiss or his hands gripping his thighs, squeezing them and dragging you closer. Making you remember his touch, and now he did the same as you turned around in his arms. His hold travelling up to your ass, the full curve in his palms, tangling you in his electrifying kiss and magic tongue. Chest to chest. Your hard nipples brushed against his skin. You slipped your arms around him, digging your fingernails into his back, dragging them down. His hiss filled your lungs. You felt him tilt his head. He was looking past you, his fingers sinking into your ass, spreading you open to expose everything, and you raised your hips, hearing the wet sound of your pussy lips opening.

You flexed your muscles.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Yoongi growled into your lips.

He wasn’t looking at your face.

You were sort of glad about that because, despite how cold and aloof he tried to remain, it never reached his eyes.

You reached back. Covered his hands with yours. Spread your ass open further, your lips finding the space between his shoulder and neck. Sucking a mark into that fair skin with his moan rising above you, watching your holes pulse in the mirror, both of you basking in the rush of provocative pornography becoming reality.

Two sides of the same coin.

You didn’t believe the best in people. They loved to prove you wrong anyway. It was better to give up on that. You lips chased his racing pulse. Breathe out. His grip relaxed, his hands sliding up. Cradling your waist. Your hands trailed after, your fingertips fanning over his knuckles. You never admitted it to Yoongi, but secretly you hated the world too. Hated that people always had the worst intentions and proved you right. Hated that they turned to dishonesty to save face.

You stared into his eyes.

You expected to see the haze of desire.

Instead, they were twin orbs of crystal-clear darkness.

A few steps and you were both crawling onto the bed. Hands all over. Body language and shared shaking breath. He kneeled over your body. The hickey you had made was stark even in this low light. Your hands buried into the sheets, grabbing fistfuls as Yoongi slid two fingers into you again, his black hair hanging over his cheeks, his lips parting while he stroked his cock and thrust his fingers into you.

You never admitted it to Yoongi, but you could see the way he looked at you.

You could hear the promise in his voice when he gave you his usual, later. You could feel the delicateness in his rough touch, hitting all the right spots, slow and deep. You opened your legs more, grabbing your left thigh and pulling it up to your chest so you could tilt your hips up and rise your hips to meet his hand. His grip around his length tightened. You could watch him pleasure himself as he pleasured you, forced to follow his desired rhythm. His brows furrowed in concentration, his cock swelling in his hand, the head dark and popping out of his tight grip, him sucking in a tight breath, his gaze roaming all over to take in the visceral visual, and you knew the meaning of the way Yoongi looked at you.

His eyes locked with yours and he edged himself as you tumbled into another orgasm.

“A-Ah… fuck…”

The sensation vibrated up your core, heat swarming over your chest, moaning for him, always never letting anyone get too close but Yoongi was already in your most secret space, pulling out his fingers and opening his mouth, curling his tongue around them and licking off your cum. Closer than close. Tasting you. You were already crawling forward. He already knew, taking his wet fingers away from his mouth and sliding them into your lips, in, out. In, out, your sweet-sour honey and his spit mixed together, staring into his eyes as he fucked your throat.

You never admitted it to Yoongi, but.

“I need to be inside you,” he breathed out, each word heavy.

You were never worried if there was anyone else. It would honestly be easier for you if there was, but of course life would not be so easy. It would be easier if you didn’t find Min Yoongi so fucking sexy, your body automatically backing up at his declaration. Condoms already in a pile on your nightstand. It would be easier if this was casual as everyone else saw it. If this was just sex. But this so obviously wasn’t just sex, the anticipation palpable as Yoongi rolled down the condom, staring down at your body.

Your tongue circled your open lips, holding your legs against your chest as he bent down.

One hand on the back of your knee.

Both of you gasping as he entered, deeper, the fluttering in your lungs disrupting your breathing. His hand slid down, covering yours, right there.

No more space.

Completed.

You let Yoongi pull your wrist away and pin it to the mattress. Rolled your hips into his, forgetting you didn’t care about anybody as he filled you up, hitting the best spot that made your mind go blank and your lashes flutter. His breathing deepening, thrusting hard into you, your pussy tightening around him each time he bottomed out. Harder. Steady, powerful, slamming you back into the mattress. You pushing back against him. The sound between you wet and loud and obscene, his grip on your wrist tightening, your legs on his shoulders, his hair over his eyes.

His body telling you everything.

He tried to escape the strength of his own emotions but the sex would never feel this good if Yoongi didn’t care.

The first kisses were a dare turned addictive. The first touches were meant to make you wet and make you want something you couldn’t have. But you wanted his selfishness. His carnal need, his husky groan, his inescapable hold, his hard cock pounding you and your pussy throbbing around him. You wanted his body to make you crazy and forget anything but how to feel, deeper, shuddering, the brief rise your only chance to breathe, your eyes rolling back, heart dropping, the ecstasy boiling up from below in vicious flinches racing through your veins, right there, the euphoric high almost unbearable as he fucked you through it.

You glanced down and saw his back in the mirror behind your joined bodies, broad shoulders flexed and shimmering with sweat.

Looked back and he was watching you.

Yoongi smirked.

“Like what you see?”

You didn’t miss a beat.

“Fuck yeah.”

His smirk widened, genuinely amused.

He lowered his torso, pressing into you. Your wrist sliding up, his weight pinning you down, again, again, his erratic pants mirroring your heartbeat, suddenly feeling more breathless than before, feeling the intensity of his gaze even if you closed your eyes, meeting his thrusts with the same earnestness and honesty, unable to hide under the pressure, his name escaping your lips, Yoongi, soft, pleading, meaning something else.

He murmured your name too, breathless with want, and it wasn’t about your body.

His grip on your wrist tightened.

Your pussy squeezed all around his twitching cock, blinding pleasure bleeding into every nerve, racing sparks over your scalp, briefly seeing his head tip back through the haze of lust, his hair falling back, his expression exposed. His eyes closed, glistening cheekbones, mouth open, moaning with you, the muscles of his neck and chest prominent, burying deep into you so you could feel every centimeter of his length pulsing in harmony, orgasm to orgasm, your thighs shaking against his shuddering chest, causing you forget where you ended and he began.

His hand let go.

Slipped up, his fingers intertwining with yours.

You gasped.

Searching for air or perhaps due to the rambunctious butterflies fluttering underneath your thundering heartbeat. Who knew. Yoongi couldn’t look at you again and it wasn’t because he was suddenly polite and saving your dignity. You had nothing to be ashamed about, visually, even with your hair a mess and you breathing hard from exertion.

“You’re still good-looking,” you managed to pant out.

His eyes darted to you in half-disbelief. “What?”

You gave him a small little smile. He let go of your hand to back up and give you space even though it was clear there wasn’t any space between you and him anymore. Even when he pulled out and peeled off the condom, backing away from you to clean up a bit, there was nothing between you and him. You could tell when he came back bearing a warm, damp towel, gently wiping between your legs, hesitating when you sucked in a quick breath. You motioned him to continue, tingling with sensitivity, leaving one hand to rest on his forearm.

Yoongi retreated, giving you space.

It was only a moment, enough for him to put the towel back on the bathroom sink counter, and then he was against you again, you sliding between his arms, lips on him, leaving marks on his fair skin, reminding him he was yours even though he already was.

He didn’t tell you to stop.

Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist and gasped softly, humming in approval.

Even that made you wet between your legs.

That was how you knew you were fucked.

His fingers fanned out over your back. His lips grazed over your temple as you rose. Nose to nose, breathing him in. Secrets unfolding one by one. You didn’t ask him to stay. You held him to you and he belonged in the bed with you. Neither of you reached for your phones to check the time, choosing instead to tangle your limbs together, drinking in his trembling exhale, staring at each other under lidded eyes.

Just sex?

“You’re not only sex to me,” Yoongi whispered, so quietly that you wouldn’t have heard him without being this close.

“Neither are you,” you breathed, your lips grazing his. “I don’t think you ever were.”

His inhale stilled.

His palms pressed against your back, bringing your chest to his.

Heart to heart.

“Must be my good fortune.”

Yoongi gave you a little smile. You could feel it and see the warmth in his dark brown eyes. He had tried to hide it behind his disinterested gaze, behind his growing hair length, behind his rough touch, but you could always see it and you had pretended not to give a fuck, thinking you weren’t ready, never ready to believe in someone. People loved to prove you wrong. But Yoongi wasn’t just anyone.

You only needed one to prove you wrong.

“I going to make you a set of my keys.”

You laughed as Yoongi rolled you over and pinned you to the mattress, his smirk against your neck, making his own marks on you after his declaration.

--

masterpost

[ggidolsmuts]

Sin, Hormones, and the Starlet’s Boyfriend - Le Sserafim Yunjin, Somi

A/N: Apologies for the shit gif, I can’t figure out how to do this properly.

Yunjin exits from the bathroom, sighing. It's shark week for her soon, she can already feel the telltale signs. Her usually exuberant nature has slightly floundered and flagged, becoming more quiet, and noticing things that were not quite going her way. The other members recognize it too, and thankfully they are accommodating to her, not being nearly as loud around her today.

"Hey girl!" Not Somi though, Somi has one setting and that setting is taped on "full power".

"Hey Somi!" Yunjin smiles and waves in return. "How are you doing?"

"Doing good, doing good, thanks for doing the challenge for me!"

"Of course, same here!"

"You know, maybe we should do a collab sometime, I love the songs you wrote!" Somi gushes.

"You do? Really?"

"Of course!"

"Yeah... I mean yeah of course, we should totally collab!"

"Great, you should come by!"

"Sure, how about tomorrow?" Yunjin doesn't even pay attention to what she just said until it's too late. Why tomorrow? Her inner introvert curses herself.

"Ooh that sounds good, drop by my home studio, we can work on it before we put it in front of a producer, bring your guitar okay?"

"Ah yeah, that sounds great, see you then!"

Yunjin shows up the next day at Somi's place.

"Hey, come in, come in!"

"Whoa, nice place!"

"Thanks thanks, come, do you want some water?"

"Sure that works."

"Great, anyways, so I was thinking..." Somi talks animatedly, and Yunjin responds in kind—maybe this collab could really work! Before she knows it they've moved to Somi's room, playing around on her sound setup as Yunjin plays a few chords.

"Hey babe, dinner's ready— oh!" The two of them turn around to the unknown voice. "Hello?"

"Oh hey oppa, this is Yunjin."

"Yes, from Le Sserafim right? Nice to meet you."

"Ah yes, nice to meet you!" Yunjin quickly stands up to greet him. "And you are...?"

"Oh, just an oppa I know." Somi says casually, before putting a finger to her lips. Yunjin gets the gist immediately, and mouths "Boyfriend?" to Somi. But he answers for her.

"Yes I am her boyfriend."

"Yah we had plausible deniability!"

"Oh come on, she's not stupid. Ah yes, I am just the oppa who calls you 'babe'. Anyways dinner's ready, come out to eat."

"D-Dinner?" Yunjin checks her phone—time flew by a lot faster than she thought! "It's getting late, thanks for having me over Somi!"

"You should stay for dinner!"

"No no, I don't want to impose on you and your boyfriend."

"No it's fine, we like having company, we made more than enough, right oppa?" Somi shoots a look at him.

"I umm, I will, I guess?"

"Great!"

Somi drags Yunjin to the dinner table, where there are two prepared plates of delicious pasta waiting.

"Oh, he's already made it for you two, I really should—"

"No no, sit." Somi firmly pushes Yunjin into a chair. "He can make more."

"Yep, you two go ahead, I'll just be a sec."

"What does he do? I don't think I recognize him." Yunjin asks, noting his tightly fitted shirt.

"Yeah, he's not a celebrity, just an office worker at a chaebol, you know the type." In her opinion he could certainly pass for a celebrity—good looking and fit, where did Somi even find someone like that? And where's hers? Slowly Yunjin teases out the details of how Somi met him, and she envies Somi's luck.

"Hey Yunjin," he calls out to her. "Do you like penne or fettucine?" He holds out two bags of pasta for her to choose.

"Uhh, penne's good."

"Great, coming right up." He turns away from her, and she watches him roll up his sleeves—the simple act sends a sinful thrill through Yunjin's body. Fuck, no office worker looks like that. She turns back to find Somi typing away at her phone, and Yunjin gets on her phone, not really looking at it, just trying to distract herself from thoughts of him. He's good looking, he cooks, he has a stable job, his forearms are muscular, like he could really finger—

I wish for what's for—

Yunjin shakes her head vigorously. Stop! she tells herself. He's Somi's boyfriend!

"Why the fuck does he have to be so hot?"

"Sorry?" Yunjin's blood goes cold as she hears him right next to her, a plate of pasta in his hands. Oh god did she just say her thoughts out loud?

"Ah? Umm I, umm, just the weather I mean, it's been so hot the past few days."

"Oh yeah, tell me about it, I still have to dress up for work too, ugh. Here you go." He puts the plate in front of her, and it smells delicious. Damn it, not only does he cook, he cooks well!

"T-Thanks." Yunjin quickly digs into the pasta, her face flushed. She almost jumps out of the chair when she feels a foot tap her knee under the table. Somi has been sitting across from her the whole time, and now she's looking quizzically at Yunjin. Suddenly she feels the weight of guilt, of even thinking about Somi's boyfriend like that, what does she even say to Somi?

"I, I have to use the washroom! Be right back!" Yunjin yelps before quickly dashing for the toilet. A dread fills her as Somi gets up too.

"Sure, let me show you where it is." Somi grabs Yunjin by the elbow, steering her down the hallway and into her bedroom instead of the bathroom. "What was that?" she asks, and Yunjin knows there's no getting out of it.

"I'm so sorry Somi, I didn't mean it, it just came out!" Yunjin presses her hands together, begging for forgiveness. "I would never do a thing!"

"You think he's hot?" Yunjin turns red but stays silent, but Somi doesn’t let it slide. "Answer me."

"I... yes. I'm sorry Somi!"

"Why are you sorry? Hah I mean I think he's hot too, it's part of the package, and his package is—" Somi shakes her head. "Anyways, what's going on, where's this coming from?"

"Sorry, it's just one of those times, you know—"

"You are hormonal and you're horny." Yunjin's shocked at how simply Somi puts it, but she can't bring herself to deny it. "You're not seeing anyone?" Yunjin shakes her head. "Tch, of course not, you're in a new girl group."

"I'm so sorry, I'll leave right away after dinner, or if you want I can leave right now, I'll make something up."

"No, stay. Do you want to fuck him?"

"No Somi he's your boyfriend, I can't—"

"Not can't, do you want to? If you don't say no I'm treating that as a yes."

Yunjin opens her mouth, but no sounds come out other than some weird croak. Somi smirks, suppressing a laugh.

"That's settled then, stay after dinner, tell your members you'll be late home tonight. I'll make it happen." Yunjin lets herself get shown to the bathroom, and she sighs as she looks herself in the mirror. Is she really going to fuck Somi's boyfriend? That's not like her!

But you didn't say no. The little voice in her head tells her, and her abdomen is already getting warm. Somi was talking about his package, how big is it, and maybe his arms are muscular from carrying her around— Yunjin shakes her head to clear her fantasies, but no, it's too late, she's already getting wet. Yunjin groans and tries to focus on other thoughts—she sees two toothbrushes on the counter, guess he really does live here too, do they fuck in her bedroom, maybe in this bathroom too?

Oh my god! Yunjin shouts internally before splashing water on her face. She needed to cooldown, to just go out there and eat her fucking pasta.

And pray she doesn't soak through her panties.

"Everything okay? You and Somi were gone for a long time." You ask as Yunjin returns from the bathroom, face slightly red and... wet? "You have some water on your face."

"Oh you know oppa, girl talk," Somi quips.

"Yeah, just tired, had to wake myself up." Yunjin corroborates. You offer to make her coffee, but she declines. You shrug and continue finishing your dinner. You can't help but wonder what went on as Somi tries to engage Yunjin in small talk, but her friend is strangely reticent.

"Thanks for the delicious dinner oppa, we'll be working in my room okay?" Somi pecks you on the cheek before pulling Yunjin from her seat.

"T-Thank you!" Yunjin bows deeply.

"Sure not at all, no need to be so polite." You chuckle and smile, but Yunjin only blushes deeper. You try to catch Somi's gaze, wanting to ask if Yunjin's okay, but your girlfriend ignores you, dragging her back to the room instead.

"S-Somi, are you really okay with this?"

"Yeah it's not a huge deal, better for me too, there are times when I can't keep up with him."

"What do you— Oh." Yunjin realizes what she means, and her desires that she managed to keep in check for the rest of dinner begin leaking out as she squirms.

"He's very... passionate, for lack of a better word. He comes back from work, and the first thing he does is jump me, do you know how many recordings I've had to delete because he just scoops me up and I can't even turn off the mic?"

"Oh, umm no..." No, Yunjin didn't know, but now she wishes Somi kept those recordings. "S-Sounds troublesome."

"Speaking of troublesome, the clean up, oh my god, he just explodes in you— Oops, sorry, I shouldn't tease you should I? Poor you, you must be so on edge." Somi stops, seeing Yunjin rubbing her thighs together.

"You don't have condoms, do you?"

"I think we do, but..." Somi checks her usual drawer. "Ah sorry, we must have used the last few over the weekend. Don't worry, he's good at pulling out, just tell him."

"O-Okay, that's fine." Yunjin answers quietly. The last few? Just how much sex do they have? And am I really doing this? She can still pull out— Yunjin shakes her head again, bad choice of words.

"I'll go talk to him then okay? Just give us a couple of minutes." Yunjin nods silently, not trusting herself to speak as Somi exits the room. Should she just get up and leave, just make up some excuse? She can just take care of herself back in the dorms.

I wish for what's— It's not forbidden if Somi allows it right? Right? Right?

Yunjin stays seated, silently pulling off her socks. Even that friction makes her wetter.

"Hey oppa, let me take over the dishes." You feel Somi's hands wrap around you from behind, and you dry your own hands on the towel before grabbing her own.

"Oh? You're going to do the dishes for once?"

"What do you mean for once! I always do the dishes!"

"Yes, when I have like one plate left you take over."

"Tsch fine, no, I was thinking you could do something else for me." Somi presses herself more tightly into your back, making sure you feel her generous chest properly. Her hand drifts from your waist to your slacks, undoing the button.

"Yah, isn't Yunjin still here? It's one thing to have the relationship found out, it's another to just be openly doing this while she's here!" you hiss as Somi snakes a hand into your boxers, stroking you slowly to stiffness. Despite your words you reach behind and easily find Somi's ass, squeezing her through her shorts.

"Mmm yes, squeeze it, it's gonna feel so good for Yunjin too." You squeeze Somi firmly before stopping.

"What?"

"I think my new friend in the room needs some help with guys."

"I'm sure she can find someone, she's an idol."

"Oh I meant now, like within 5 minutes. She looks like she could use a good fuck, she's been on edge since she saw you." You resume squeezing Somi's ass from behind as you process her words and pretend to "clean" the last plate.

"I see, and you want me to do the honors?"

"Well, it's clear to me she wants you to do the honors, and I could do with a break tonight."

"You say that like you're not going to come watch, and then join in."

Unbeknownst to you and Somi, Yunjin has quietly opened the door, just to see what's going on. She sees Somi hugging you from behind, but with the faucet running she can't hear you and Somi talk. What she can tell is the content of your conversation, her eyes widening as your hand drifts to Somi's ass, firmly groping her.

"Fuck..." she breathes quietly. When was the last time she was grabbed like that, when has she ever been grabbed like that? Any second thoughts about leaving are dashed—she can't pretend to leave now, otherwise it would be "catching" them in the act and make things even more awkward. Her gaze is glued to his hand, finally letting go of Somi before turning off the running water, and hurriedly Yunjin sneaks back to the room. She hears some whispers, and then a small laugh, and then footsteps.

"Hey."

"Hey..." Yunjin stands up and greets you quietly. You spot her socks strewn on the floor.

"So... Somi wants me to do whatever you want."

"I..." She's distracted by you already unbuttoning your shirt, getting flustered. You leave your shirt open and place her hands on it—it is for Yunjin to take off. Her hands tremble in yours, but she doesn't shy away, pulling it down your shoulders and off your arms. Her eyes trail down your body, and they widen as they land on your taut slacks. Yunjin bites her lower lip, and then licks her bitemark.

"Would you like me to treat you like Somi?" Your words jolt Yunjin out of her trance. I wish for what's forbidden...

I am so going to hell.

Yunjin nods, and you immediately pull her in tightly. She lets out something between a whimper and moan as you grab her firm butt—now she's being treated like Somi!

"Oh shit, oh..." she gasps as pleasure floods her body, every knead of your hand seeming to turn her on even more. You leave measured nips on her neck—light enough to not leave a mark, firm enough to not be ignored. Yunjin turns to face you, and she lets you suck on her lower lip, tugging it before letting go and hungrily pressing your lips on hers instead. Yunjin jumps when her hands land on your skin, as if she forgot she had her own hands. She makes up for lost time, hungrily roaming your back and arms, feeling your muscles.

"Y-You do this with Somi?" she gasps as you bring her down to the bed.

"Oh I do a lot more with Somi." Yunjin exhales delightfully when she feels your hand slip under her top, brushing and admiring her abs, abs that she was proud of. But pride goes before the fall, and Yunjin let's out a soft mewl as your hand falls past her abs, teasing her and landing on a creamy thigh. Yunjin is toned and tight in all the right places, and you give her the most sinful of massages, pressing into her thighs, a firm thumb making it's way up her leg.

"M-More." Yunjin's surprised with herself—somehow she hasn't covered her thighs in slick yet with how hot she's feeling right now. At your nudging she takes off her top, and you kiss the slight dip in her petite chest, making her suck a breath in—fuck she needs this! Her hips push off the bed willingly as you slip a hand beneath her shorts. You play with Yunjin over her panties, letting her soak them. She whines and groans before eventually grabbing your arm. Just feeling your muscles makes her want it, and Yunjin begins to speak her desires.

"Finger me." She has no time to react or prepare herself, and a loud cry is the result. Yunjin immediately feels stuffed—that can't be just your finger! Her head spins as you wiggle and curl the finger inside her, her walls resisting your efforts to open her up. One more finger is added, and Yunjin's mouth drops open, much like you are opening her up below.

Fuck! Her thoughts shout as you begin moving, and Yunjin can almost feel your fingerprints in her, pressing against her tense muscles, massaging her from the inside. Her own fingers are nowhere near as thick, and you have two in her! You make sure you are a knuckledragger inside her, curling and pumping her slowly, multiple points of pleasure firing off in her brain as you twist and scissor and push. You turn Yunjin into a mouth-breathing knuckledragger—she's drooling onto the bed, her knuckles grinding on the sheets as she twists and grabs what she can.

"N-No more!" She begs when you touch her entrance with a third finger.

"You can do it." Her pupils are dilated, and her breathing hastens as you slowly push in. Yunjin's mind seems so far away from herself as the pressure inside her compresses her senses, slowing her thoughts down, shrinking the area of her body she needs to feel.

No it's too much, so big, so— "So fucking good!" Yunjin squeals her own disagreement with herself loudly. It is not too much, it is fucking perfect the way your three fingers fuck her—three sparks go down her spine with every push of your hand. She grabs your forearm, feeling the muscles flex as you start pumping them inside her over and over. Her legs spread even more lewdly for you, urging you to get deeper with every moan.

"D-Deeper, more! Please more!" I need this, I'm so close! You can hear Yunjin's thoughts from her pussy, each clench and squelch a prayer for you to make her cum. She moans and throws her head back when you add a fourth finger—not inside her, but on her clit.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck~" Somi's cheeks are red as she listens to Yunjin cry out from her bedroom. There's no doubt you're making her cum, and her hands drift down her body as she remembers what you like to do to her. She wonders if Yunjin can handle it.

"Fuck me! Fuck! Mmm... Oh yes!" Yunjin hushed moans fill the room as she buries her face in the covers, trying not to be embarrassingly loud—she's back to her exuberant self, voicing her pleasure freely. She jerks when you find her g-spot, pressing on it with each finger in sequence. It becomes too much, she's burning white hot, her vision going dark. 

"S-Stop, stop! Enough." All of the non-pleasurable sensations rush back at once when your fingers withdraw—stickiness between her legs, sweat on her hair, her legs suddenly sore from being taut for too long—all berating her.

Why the fuck did you tell him to stop?! Yunjin ignores her body's complaints, focusing on a deeper hunger. You already know what she wants as she kicks off her shorts and underwear, and you begin undoing your slacks, your eyes devouring Yunjin just like she's undressing you with her gaze.

"I want you to fuck me like Somi."

"The intimate way or the rough way?" You laugh at her confused expression, like you have truly stumped her.

"There's more than one way?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I assumed you would just, you know, pound her into the bed, rail her from behind, pull on her hair—" Yunjin pauses when she realizes she's just telling you everything she imagines you and Somi do.

"Well, that's the rough way, I guess."

"What's the intimate way then?"

"Slower, I definitely don't pull her hair, more kisses, a longer session." Fuck yes! Yunjin's hormones rage through her—that's exactly what she wants right now.

"Let's go with that then."

"Sure." You toss off your slacks, and a thrill goes through Yunjin's body as she sees the much more defined outline of your shaft. She lets you roll her over, so that she's prone on the bed, and suddenly the room is dark.

"Mmph!" You're kissing her needily, and her entire body is hot again. She quickly realizes why—you've thrown the covers over both of them, like a couple enjoying a playful night together. She trembles, your hands running down her bare shoulders sending goosebumps up her neck. You leave her for a moment to remove your boxers, and already Yunjin misses your touch. She freezes when you're on top of her, when she realizes your shaft is rubbing at her pussy lips. She's secretly glad you put three fingers in her—there's no way she can take you otherwise! She also remembers something important.

"W-Wait, I'm not safe today. If you cum in me, I might get pregnant."

"You will," you mutter in her ear, and you swear your cock got slicker from rubbing against her pussy. Yunjin looks at you steadily, and you hold her gaze, waiting for her to tell you what she wants. Her expression wavers, your slight movements against her grinding away her common sense, and all she does is turn away from you, burying her face in the pillow. That's all you need from Yunjin.

"Ah..." you groan as you sink into unfamiliar territory, and it is mirrored by a loud muffled moan from Yunjin. She definitely feels a large part of why Somi likes you. "Fuck Yunjin, so tight." She once again can only manage a muffled whine. As she's adjusting around you Yunjin is thrown off by your soft laugh, and even that mere vibration sends sparks through her.

"What?"

"Let's make sure we're equally naked hmm?" Yunjin turns red as she realizes what you mean—throughout all of this, she still had her bra on! You expertly unhook her bra and pull it off her.

"S-Sorry, I know it's not as big as Somi..." she mumbles, gasping as you reach around to fondle her.

"Don't be sorry, I'll let you in on a secret." Yunjin looks at you quizzically. Does he not like Somi's tits? Does he prefer mine? Even if they're smaller? Really? Really?! Unknowingly you dash Yunjin's hopes, but you don't think she minds.

"Guys won't care when they're balls deep in you." You thrust down sharply, burying yourself fully in Yunjin's prone body. You tighten your grip on Yunjin's chest, pulling her up towards you a little as you press your chest down on her back. You groan and grunt into her neck, reveling in her tight wetness, feeling Yunjin clench and gasp around you as your tip touches her cervix. 

"Fucking hell Yunjin, I'm right."

"W-What?" she says dreamily, suffocating under the pressure of your body on top of and inside her.

"If I cum in you, you will get pregnant." You whisper in her ear, driving the point home with another deep thrust into her creamy wetness. Yunjin was well aware, and now you know it too—she's ovulating and horny, her hips subtly pushing against you. Pinned and squirming beneath you, Yunjin has never been in a more vulnerable state, her idol career in a precarious position.

Yet she says nothing, choosing to shut you up with a needy kiss, her hand squeezing your hand on her breast, urging you to keep going. You do as she wants.

"Oh fuck!"

Somi sneaks into the room, finding no one immediately. But the moving lump under the covers is not fooling anyone, that and the muffled moans and grunts coming from it. She takes a seat opposite the bed, watching the two pairs of feet do the four feet tango. Just watching those feet is enough to get Somi to slide off her shorts—the smaller pair stay taut together, toes curling and uncurling as they lightly bounce on the bed. The larger pair of feet around them are more spread, pressed into the bed for leverage. Her fingers drift down between her legs, her lazy strokes mimicking the curl of Yunjin's toes—Somi wasn't looking to get herself off just yet.

"More, right there!" At Yunjin's prompting your legs clamp around her slender legs, lifting her feet under yours. Your hips slam against her toned butt, the light smacking sounds of flesh on flesh filling the covers. The smell of sweaty sex snuffs out all of Yunjin's coherent thoughts, your cock driving down on her g-spot sending wild signals through her body. The talkative and loud idol is reduced to a keening and groaning mess.

"Oh fuck..." Yunjin rasps before falling, dropping her head into the pillow before crying out loudly, each wave of pleasure forcing a wail from her. Her entire body is taut beneath you, small tits and toned cheeks shaking and quivering as she clenches around your cock. For a few brief moments Yunjin blanks out, her mind painted over with orgasmic bliss. And then it is over quickly, and she sags into the bed, her breathing labored and hoarse, like she's danced the hardest choreo in her life.

Things would get harder still, and Yunjin finds herself rolled on her side, a leg lifted as you press against her sweaty back. She shuts her eyes at the sudden brightness, blinded by you throwing the covers off—it was getting just a little too hot. You spot Somi at the foot of the bed, and she just does a shooing motion at you, mouthing "Keep going!" while the other hand does small slow circles between her legs. You raise Yunjin's leg just a little higher to give Somi a better view.

"Mmh! Shit! Fuck! Oh my god!" Yunjin's mouth spews foul curses as you literally fuck her sideways, plunging into her slick tightness and going deep on every thrust. You cup a breast, lightly pinching a nipple, and Yunjin croons to the sky. "Yes yes yes!"

I'm going to cum again, he's making me cum again already! Yunjin reels from the pleasure, her own hand drifting to her clit, just a little bit more, just one more touch...

"Nngh!" You grunt, pushing deep into Yunjin and holding yourself there. You throb like mad inside her, but Yunjin's ascent to climax is brought to an abrupt halt.

"D-Did you cum?" she asks confusedly. No, I was so close!

"Very close," you grit your teeth and try to ignore her clenching around you. "Last chance." Yunjin realizes what you mean—you could still pull out, cum on her thighs, or she could offer her face for you, or her mouth. As she looks down her body she finally sees Somi, but she's too aroused to be embarrassed about being watched. Rather, her thoughts go back to what Somi said earlier.

"Speaking of troublesome, oh my god he just explodes in you."

I wish for what's forbidden.

Yunjin hurries to grab your arm, feeling you begin to pull away from her.

"No don't. C-cum in me, do it in me, I want all of it." Her breath catches as a third leg rubs against her calf, teasing her.

"You heard her babe, go ahead and cum, let her feel what you make me feel." Somi's up on the bed beside you, and judging by how her breasts and stiff tips press delightfully against your back, she's naked as well. The angel and the devil—Who’s who? You wonder—are each in an ear, both urging you to sin, urging you to lead Yunjin into sin. 

You find Yunjin's neck, taking a harsh suck on her flawless skin—your bite of the forbidden fruit. Your hands go to her hips, and now you're pulling back on her, getting as deep as you can in her. You adjust your angle on every thrust, trying to find the perfect connection, you find it on the fourth try; that, or the pleasure simply becomes too great. Your tip presses against her cervix, and Yunjin seems to arch back a little, opening herself more, and the slight grip on your tip electrifies you.

I'm a—

The first explosion mess makes Yunjin gasp, the sudden warmth filling her womb. The second explosion mess makes her choke on her breath, the thickness and volume of your potent load overwhelming. The third explosion mess triggers her orgasm, as her body reacts primitively to the sensation, wanting to milk you for everything, to contain every fragment of the explosion inside her. Somi helps both of you out, a finger on Yunjin's clit and a hand on your balls, making sure you pour of it into her. She delights when her job is done correctly, a stream of cum leaking out of the connection and onto her thigh. Each rutting thrust from you makes a little more leak out, but you're still sending more into her.

Your grip weakens eventually, and you have to drop Yunjin's leg. But there's no hiding the mess between her legs—Yunjin's been properly mated. You let her roll on her back, and your load is a slow moving flood out of her. She covers her eyes with an arm, a mess and finally in de-stress.

"You okay?" Somi asks.

"Yeah, that was amazing, just... Just give me a moment." Yunjin's ferally satisfied lizard brain ponders what just happened; She just asked Somi to let you fuck her, then she had you cum in her, and she definitely needs a morning after pill now, but she doesn't regret anything at all—it was exactly what she needed.

After all that, Yunjin still blushes when she uncovers her eyes again—Somi's cleaning your cock with her mouth.

"I knew you would want to join in." You quip, running your hand through Somi's hair.

"Hurry up and get hard again."

"Bend over and I will be."

"Typical." Somi fires you a glare, but she does as you say, getting on all fours next to Yunjin. "Was he good?"

"Yeah, it was great. Thanks. Do you want me to—" Yunjin makes to get up, as if to give you two privacy, but Somi stops her.

"No it's fine, besides, I already saw you two, only fair that you get to watch."

"Yeah, I can show you the rough way Yunjin," you offer with a smirk, punctuating it with a sharp thrust into Somi.

"Ah! Fucking give it to me oppa!" Yunjin's entranced by Somi's expression, her white teeth gleaming in a near-maniacal smile even as her brow furrows slightly on every thrust. You did not start off gentle with Somi at all, and if you were getting all the way deep with Yunjin, surely you're smashing into Somi right now? Part of her shudders at the thought of how that would feel; the other part of her gets aroused again. 

She's inches from Somi's face, watching the blonde's mouth drop open, moaning freely at your rough treatment. Somi's face slackens, then her eyes shut tight, her tense body not hiding the jiggle of her breasts as you continue to thump into her. In one instant Somi's eyes snap open, and Yunjin's gazing straight into her hazelnut eyes. In the next instant Somi grabs Yunjin and kisses her.

"Nnnghmmmmm!" Somi screams into Yunjin's mouth, her tongue thrashing inside Yunjin as you drive her to a pent-up orgasm. Yunjin feels the rawness of Somi's orgasm, and she leans into the kiss, a hand on her jaw, and soon she's lost in a makeout session, their teeth slightly knocking as you keep the pacing up, pumping Somi through her orgasm. Fresh from her climax Somi is extra into it, and she drifts her own fingers down Yunjin, plunging unhesitatingly into her creamy core.

"Mmm!" Yunjin squeals in surprise, and Somi stops to look at her, biting a lip to stifle her moan a little. Yunjin blushes and nods, and soon her nails are digging into the sheets, curling like Somi's long fingers are doing inside her.

"You can grab her, you know." You put a hand on Somi's scalp and tug, opening her throat to let out loud hearty cries. Yunjin whines when Somi cums again, the busty blonde's fingers quivering and jerking inside of her own pussy. She's a little envious as she watches Somi's tits bounce and jiggle, and without thinking Yunjin reaches out for one globe, squeezing it and marveling at the softness.

"Oh fuck, yes Yunjin, squeeze me!" Somi's lips find Yunjin again, and soon they are moaning against each other. Each thrust you put into Somi shoves her fingers deeper into Yunjin, who in return gropes Somi even harder, her fingers digging into Somi's soft flesh instead of the sheets.

"Fuck, he's so deep!" Somi groans, and Yunjin nods and kisses her again. She knows exactly what Somi means, having just felt that minutes ago, and she lets Somi whine and whimper into her. That is, until you pull on Somi's hair again.

"I can't hear you babe."

"You're too deep fuck! Are you trying to knock me up too? Ah! We only have one morning after pill left, are you going to— Fuck! Decide who's going to take it?" You lean over and grab Somi's other breast, squeezing it alongside Yunjin. It makes Somi whine even louder.

"Depends, which of you is going to cum first?"

Yunjin let's out a surprised moan as Somi starts moving her fingers actively, as if determined to make Yunjin peak first. But she recovers quickly and begins playing with Somi's nipples, pinching and twisting them to produce harsh gasps. You inevitably speed up as you near your own peak, and the ending is a real photo finish.

"Nooooo! Hnnngh!" Somi grunts, peaking when Yunjin scratches a nail across her clit, and the sudden increase in pressure pulls you over the line. Your load bursts from your tip and splatters inside Somi, and the sight of you bent over your girlfriend, growling and no doubt filling her just like you had filled her earlier sends Yunjin over the top, throwing her head back and trapping Somi's hand between her legs, contracting around the fingers mindlessly rubbing on her g-spot. The three of you collapse in a heap, and you quickly roll to the side, catching your breath after two vigorous rounds with the two beauties.

Yunjin finds herself face-to-face with a flushed and satisfied Somi, and tentatively she slips a finger into her friend, feeling how tight and creamy she is, filled with your load.

"Don't... My cum..." Somi sighs, and Yunjin pulls her fingers out just as Somi does the same from her. Their fingers are both coated in your cream, and their thoughts are on the same possessive post-coital wavelength.

My cum now. A soft sigh escapes both of them as they finger themselves, cleaning their digits with their slick. Of course, their juices don't clean it off fully, so when they proceed to finger each other again, trying to get more of your cum from one another, your seed just mixes inside them. They continue swapping cum from pussy to pussy, a collab of the filthiest kind, until the erotic haze of sex and sin finally dissipates, and you're left with two blushing idols. It's a miracle that you don't get a third wind, but you truly had nothing left to give.

"Wow, I... I can't believe I did that." Yunjin voices her thoughts out loud.

"Did it feel good?"

"Yeah, but—"

"That's all that matters then, sometimes you need to cut loose from being an idol, and take care of yourself. You're welcome to use the shower if you want."

"Right, thanks." Yunjin quickly shuffles off to the shower, leaving you to cuddle Somi in bed.

"So you did join us hmm?" You peck Somi on the nose, and she giggles and kisses your chin.

"I'm surprised you didn't get hard again, I don't know what that was at the end but fuck it was hot."

"It was, but I'm all tapped out."

"Yunjin drained you that much huh?"

"Don't get jealous on me now, you wanted me to fuck her. Something about you taking a break for tonight, hmm?" You appease Somi by grabbing her some tissue to help clean herself.

"Fine, you get off easy this time."

Yunjin gets out of the bathroom fully dressed, hair tousled and lightly made up. A pang of envy goes through her as she sees you two cuddling together—maybe she too could have that one day, but not right now.

"Thanks for letting me use your shower."

"Of course. Oh wait one sec." Somi jumps out from the covers, thankfully covered in your oversized shirt, and quickly ducks into the bathroom. She comes back with a pill for Yunjin. "Here, you should take it."

"Y-You said there was only one, won't you get... pregnant?"

"It was a joke,” Somi presents her own identical pill to Yunjin. She leans in to whisper. “It makes him go a little harder, he thinks I don't know it, but he gets off on that super hard."

"Oh... okay, thanks then." Yunjin blushes at Somi discussing your kink so freely. The two of them walk out of the bedroom arm in arm, and Somi gets each of them a glass of water before downing the pills.

"There, like nothing ever happened." Somi fires Yunjin a glance, her intention clear—this never happened.

"Right, yes." Yunjin pauses as she walks to the door. "What about the collab?"

"Well, we've already worked together on oppa, I guess we can work on a song too." Somi jokes crudely, but her smile is kind. "I'll let you know?"

"Sure, thanks Somi!"

Back at the dorm Yunjin dodges many questions, most of all why did she need to shower at Somi's place, but she manages to explain it away as a bad kimchi stew spill. As Yunjin sinks back into her bed though she can't help but think of what just happened. How she already wants it again.

I need what's forbidden... I am so fucked.

She turns her head into her pillow and moans.

A/N: Welp, that was a smut alright. I will say, surprisingly Le Sserafim’s song lyrics lend a lot to inspiring fics, I guess that’s a good thing? I tried to do a play on their title name for the title of this fic, but eh, not my best effort there. Anyways, I really like the song, especially when they had that first verse in their MMA show, that Hydra performance is sick. Thanks for reading!

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

Headcanon: Eddie cannot get over how he can make you come over and over just by rubbing.

Warnings: 18+ only, an inordinate amount of clit rubbing, overstimulation, mentions of a safe word but it isn’t used, we get right into it under the cut. 

Word Count: ~1,580

"I love playing with your clit,"

You watch his hand between your legs in the mirror, mouth open and drooling. 

The image of you, slumped against Eddie’s chest, is framed by posters and memorabilia in the space where his guitar would normally be. It's resting by your side on the bed where he'd left it before pulling you between his legs and flipping your skirt up. Your pretty cotton panties that he'd barely managed to drag down before getting at your pussy are still wrapped, wet and crumpled, around your right calf.

"Before you," Eddie continues, his fingers still rubbing relentless circles on your clit. The calluses built by guitar strings catch perfectly on the sensitive button, smoothed by the slick pouring from your cunt. "I thought it was this extra thing you could do to get a girl off while fucking her. Like when you get your tongue on my balls." Your thighs start to shake. Your grip on Eddie's forearm tightens but it’s like he doesn't even feel it, movements relentless. "But it's like, you don't even really need my cock."

"I need your cock," you protest in a quiet little whine. Eddie grins at you in the mirror. He grips your chin, tilts your head so he can lean down and give you a sweet kiss on your warm cheek. All the while, your body is writhing desperately against his chest and his hand. 

"I mean, fuck,” he laughs breathlessly in you ear, shaking his head, eyes wide with amusement. “I just give this tiny thing a little rub," he changes his movements, back and forth at an angle, sending your hips flying as you cry out again, getting dangerously close to another moment of blinding pleasure. "And your whole body- it’s mine. Like you'd let me do anything to you if I just promised to touch you here."

"I would let you do anything to me, Eddie," you promise, voice getting higher.

"Not really my point, sweetheart," he says, smiling a little sardonically. "But that’s okay. This head was empty the second I made you cum the first time."

You groan, the little bit of degradation pushing you over, the sharp raw feeling of your clit sending pleasure through your cunt and the rest of your body. You smack the mattress at your side, nails digging into his arm but he doesn't fucking stop, just goes back to circling your swollen clit.

"Just like that," he breathes, grinding his hard cock into your back. "Fucking look at you."

You look like you're in pain. Your clit is raw with overstimulation, your legs tired from kicking and shaking. There's tears building in your eyes, blurring the image of the two of you on his bed. You can still make out his smile. 

"It hurts," 

"Thought you said you'd let me do anything to you."

You whine. "I can't come anymore, Eddie."

He hums a little in your ear, eyes dark on yours in the mirror. He does that grin of his, really a cheeky purse of his lips, and tilts his head a little. "Well, you say that but, I mean-"

Eddie's left hand is down by his right now, spreading the sodden lips of your cunt open with his ringed fingers in a V. His right hand gives your clit a good slap, the sound of your wetness overtaking the sound of spanked skin. You wail, legs kicking. Eddie brings his own legs, still covered with his jeans, over yours, forcing them open with his calves tucked inside yours.

He gives you more quick rubs, your body tensing when he draws back, ready for the crack of pleasure-pain. He rains down quick little smacks. Your hips grind against his cock as your body tries desperately to get you away from the pain and towards the pleasure at the same time. 

You cry his name, and come again with tears running down your cheeks, feeling the hot gush of wetness from your cunt, covering your thighs and Eddie's hand, leaking down to his well used sheets. They’ll smell of you, just as much as they do him, now. 

Eddie settles his broad hand firmly on your pussy, not moving, just giving you the soothing warmth of him against your sore cunt. 

"No more," you plead, turning your face to his chest, seeking comfort from the very person who'd made you feel so sore and filthy. 

Eddie presses a firm kiss to the top of your hair, barely pressing the heel of his palm against the top of your cunt, but you’re so sensitive that the tears start building again. You sniffle against his chest and Eddie shushes you gently.

“I want one more from your little clit,” he tells you earnestly. “Just one more, sweetheart, I promise.”

Your quiet sob has him cooing, blowing softly to spread cool air over your heated, sweaty face. He lets you rub your cheek against the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt, burying your nose against his chest to smell smoke and boy. “Cross your heart?” You mumble, tears still tracking. You look up at his big, doe eyes. Behind the mischief, they’re all love and sweet attention, making your heart flutter.

The hand that isn’t pressed to your twitching cunt draws a cross over his chest. 

“Wan’ a kiss,” you say, feeling a little desperate for him, wanting some softness before you let him ruin you completely. 

The kiss he gives you is warm and wet, tastes of Eddie-Eddie-Eddie. You mewl happily, settling yourself back into his broad chest. Eddie hums a laugh at the feeling of you relaxing in his arms. “S’fucking sweet,” he mumbles against your lips, pulling away. His cock twitches at the sight of the spit that connects your lips with his, and he cleans some of the drool from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. 

You make to lean your head back on his shoulder, but Eddie’s shuffling both of you forward toward the edge of his bed. When your feet touch the floor, your body collapses, legs unprepared and shaky. Eddie hauls you up before you can hit the ground, one arm wrapped over your chest, the other your waist as he shuffles you towards that space in the mirror for the two of you. 

He’s laughing at the unsteady steps he’s forcing you to take, cooing his faux apology with an exaggerated pout. “Eddie,” you say, worried by his intentions. “Need it gentle.”

He scoffs, presses his foot to your calf to get your legs wide for him, runs his arm up your torso to hold your skirt to your stomach. He’s patronising you when he says, “I know what you need.”

Eddie presses two rough fingers to your sore button, and rubs in long horizontal stripes that you can hear from your soaked cunt like stepping in a puddle. 

His name comes in a long, pained sound. The edges of your swollen clit raw and protesting while he flicks it back and forth. You watch it all happen in the mirror, his left hand, ringed and broad, clasping the heaviness of one of your tits, the other moving in a pale blur between your legs. 

Eddie’s gaze, wild and excited, is intent on that place. You can feel his cock twitching through his pants against your back, the subtle movements of his hips secondary for him, compared to making you feel this. 

It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. 

You could get him to stop, if you wanted. Just cry red and Eddie would have you hauled up in his arms, lying back on his bed, receiving all the sweet kisses and praises your tender heart could want. 

But you’d lose what he’s building you towards, what he wants so much to give you. 

So you just beat your hand against his hip, your body thrashing and pushing to try and end this painful incline. 

“Come on,” Eddie breathes, his soft hair tickling your shoulder. And that’s enough.

It’s numb. Your clit is numb, and then it’s burning and something snaps and it feels like it’ll never stop. The blinding, sickening pleasure concentrated in that one tiny spot that now rules your whole body. Your hole clenches wildly, the emptiness nothing compared to the euphoria of what’s happening at the top of your pussy.

Even as Eddie’s fingers slow to a stop, cupping the hot flesh, it keeps coming, peaks and troughs of tingling pleasure in your clit as if he’s still playing with it. 

“Look at you,” he laughs.

You’re legless, leaning your whole weight on him, the relief that he’s finished overwhelming. You feel so good, sticking it out for him, letting him take you further than you thought you could go. 

Only, Eddie’s thick fingers are circling your hole. When he sinks the longest inside, he has to tighten the arm around your waist to keep you, practically jumping to get away, against his body. 

“You promised!” You cry, feeling the rough pads of his fingers rubbing deep in your gooey cunt. 

“Said one more from your clit.” He smacks a kiss to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, licks the sweat that’s built there. Eddie’s big eyes find yours in the mirror. “Now I want a couple from this perfect spot inside that makes you gush all over me.”

[momotonescreaming]

Teenage Dream - Part 6

AKA - the Jeff and Eddie have crushes on jocks series Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Chrissy had waved him goodbye as they exited the library, a cute wiggle of her fingers as they went their separate ways down the hall. It was almost embarrassing how much it put Jeff in a good mood. How lighter he felt, giddy and happy, and trying not to smile in the halls. It made the rest of the day easier, go by faster. And Jeff sure as hell wasn’t complaining. She took his day and lifted it up, just by the virtue of being in it.

The rest of the day passed in a rush of classes, and of teachers, and of notes and a drifting mind. Drifting to band, and Hellfire, and Chrissy. To guitar chords and crooned words. To strawberry ponytails and matching scrunchies. And next thing he knew the bell was ringing.

Time for band practice. Corroded Coffin tried their best to get together and practice once a week, every week. It was a good excuse to hang out at first, when they were all building their friendships. Talk shit, talk music, riff off each other. Then they got their gig at The Hideout, and practice became a lot more serious.

Granted, they only played to a handful of drunks, but it was a start! It was invigorating, being on the stage, feeling the heat of the shitty lights, the sound of their music coming out the amps, the energy that flowed through them.

Jeff didn’t quite know how he was going to focus on it all tonight. This has been the first practice since her. Since she sat with him and they had an actual conversation, at least. If he finds himself recommending they start playing love songs, he’s going to put his head through one of Gareth’s drums.

He was walking through the halls in a daze, trying to leave the building without colliding into someone in the veritable flood of students all leaving at the same time. Bag strap clutched tightly in his hand, shoulders tight as he weaves past a row of jocks trying their best to take up the entire width of the hall. A voice shakes him out of his reverie.

“Hey Jeff,” Frank greets with a nod of his head, walking in tandem with Jeff as they finally, finally, leave Hawkins High for the day. “You heading to Gareth’s?”

“Gotta do the school run first,” He says with a grimace, slowly heading to the car park, Frank by his side. “Mom’s at work and Dad can’t pick my brothers up. So I’ll drop them home first. Why’d you ask?”

“Mind giving me a ride?” Frank asks, brows gently furrowed as he asks.

“Yeah no worries man. As long as you don’t mind tagging along as I deliver shithead one and two home.”

Frank snorts. “It beats the bus, and Eddie drives like an animal.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Jeff jokes, tilting his head and smiling to Frank, braces bared. Eddie knows they think he drives like a maniac — they’ve all told him as such — but it hasn’t done shit to make him drive like a normal person. Eddie’s the one to drive them to their gigs at The Hideout — he’s got the van, it’s the biggest — and it’s a fucking ordeal every time.

Jeff collects his brothers, both of them only complaining the whole time that Frank’s claimed the front seat and taken control of the stereo. Had put in one of Jeff’s Black Sabbath cassettes to his delight, and his brothers dismay. They had groaned in unison the second the music started, so naturally Jeff turned the volume up. Him and Frank, head-banging the whole way home. Singing louder and louder to smother the sounds of his complaining brothers. His car, his music.

It was fun. Had helped him get more into the zone, the right mindset for practice. Left him breathless and laughing, volume cranked up high.

He had dropped his brothers home, picked up his guitar, and then it was just him and Frank in the car. Frank holding Jeff’s guitar in between his knees, making sure it doesn’t slip and damage anything. Making sure it doesn’t get damaged. It’s precious. It’s his. He had saved up for it, had asked for money for his birthday and Christmas, picked a day there was a big sale on at their local music store when he bought it.

It’s not Eddie’s sweetheart, but it’s fucking good kit if he says so himself.

They were making the drive to Gareth’s, and things were good. But Frank was giving him looks from across the centre console. Now that they were alone, without the annoying constant presence of his brothers — he had the room to do so. Frank was the ‘silent but deadly’ type. Was content to sit back and listen, wasn’t pressed to make a comment if he didn’t have to. But it also meant the guy was scarily good at picking up on things. Reading in between the lines.

Things you weren’t sure you wanted to be picked up on.

“Jeff,” Frank starts, voice only just loud enough to be heard over the music pounding out of the car stereo. There was something in his voice, his tone, something pondering. Knowing. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Oh fuck, he does know something. Whether he knows the specificity of the something is another thing entirely. So does the fact that he’s not sure if he wants to tell or not. Open this can of worms, release the hounds.

He focuses his gaze on the road ahead of him, on the chipped asphalt and the feel of the steering wheel under the palms of his hands. On Frank’s calm, steady gaze on the side of his head.

Frank wouldn’t be mean about it. Wouldn’t be unnecessarily rude, or cruel. Jeff wouldn’t befriend anyone like that, and Frank wouldn’t be that sort of person.

Maybe he doesn’t have to tell him it’s Chrissy specifically. Maybe he can just say he’s got a crush. Developed feelings. It’s just taking up a lot of space in his mind right now. It might be nice, to tell someone else. Ease the pressure. Lessen the burden. Maybe it won’t be so bad, if more than just Eddie knows Jeff is falling hopelessly.

But before he can say anything, before Jeff can even open his mouth — he’s pulling up at Gareth’s house. Drove the entire way without thinking about it. Completely on auto-pilot. He pulls to the kerb, parks the car, and turns to look at Frank. Gives him a small smile.

“I know.”

Frank just nods, and Jeff lets himself sigh a little. Guess they’re tabling this discussion for another time.

Eddie’s van is parked a little ways up the road — at an angle, tail end sticking into the road. Frank snorts as he sees it, exiting the car and shutting the door behind him. “Very glad I didn’t catch a ride with him now.”

Walking up to Gareth’s open garage, guitar in hand, Jeff sees Eddie and Gareth standing in the middle, an amp on the floor between them. Right in front of Gareth’s drum kit, unplugged, decidedly not where it should be.

Gareth’s kit was in the centre, right underneath the handmade Corroded Coffin banner they had strung across the back of the garage. It looked sick as hell, and thankfully Gareth’s parents were cool enough to leave it there. Jeff’s parents would never. Him wanting to learn the guitar was fine, great even. A creative outlet. His mother was less impressed when it evolved into metal music. And an electric guitar. It was louder.

She conceded it was fine when he told he he could plug his headphones into the amp, listen to it that way so he wouldn’t bother the family. No way in hell was she going to let him host band practice though.

Eddie lived in a trailer, and Frank’s place only had an open carport, not a closed in Garage. For a while at the start there they all thought they were shit out of luck.

Thankfully, they had Gareth. Who’s parents were fine with the metal, the band, the DnD. Who were just on the edge of rich that their garage was mostly sound proof. That they could shred as loud as they wanted and it wasn’t a problem (not until the neighbours complained, of course).

“I’m just saying, dude” Eddie exclaims, waving his hands around as he speaks. Rings catching the light, wallet chain lightly jingling at his side. “If we put an amp on either side of your drums, it’ll look sick as hell.”

“It’ll also blow my eardrums out,” Gareth retorted, that familiar scowl on his face, gesturing to his head, and then over at the wall. “Plus, all the outlets are over there, y’know, where we usually plug the amps in?”

“Where’s your vision Gare-Bear!” Eddie says, almost hopping in place. “Your sense of drama! Theatre! Performance!”

“Not here in my parents garage!”

“Jeff, Frankie-Baby,” Eddie adds, whipping around to address them as they approach. Hands clapsed together in front of him like he’s pleading.  “Tell Gareth he’s wrong.”

“I mean,” Jeff starts, dragging out the word as he thinks. Runs his tongue over his braces.  “Where are the outlets in The Hideout? What’s the point in moving them here, if they’re just gonna be somewhere different on stage?”

“See!” Gareth exclaims, before shoving the amp in Eddie’s direction. “We should just leave them off to the side as normal.”

“We are used to them over there,” Jeff adds, not sure if he’s helping anyone.

Eddie moves towards Frank, almost shuffling as his feet scoot across the concrete floor. Hands still clasped together. “Franklin, back me up.”

If the ground were softer Jeff thinks Eddie would be on his knees, really hamming it up, looking up at Frank like he was praying to an uncaring god.

“I think we should hurry up and start practising,” He eventually says, holding back a smile as Eddie groans. “Gareth, you still have my bass?”

Gareth nods, leading Frank over to the back of the garage with the pile of stuff they haven’t moved or organised yet. Jeff snorts as he looks over at Eddie to find him pouting. “Come on drama queen, lets plug this in.”

They get everything set up — still in the same layout they always use, despite Eddie’s complaints — Eddie and Jeff moving the amps into place and untangling the cables. Plugging in their guitars, Frank’s bass, as Gareth fidgeted and fussed with his kit. Adjusting his seat, moving a cymbal over, getting the pedals into position.

“We start same as always?” Frank asks, absently fidgeting and tuning his bass. Plucking strings, eyes flicking between it and the guys.

“Well,” Eddie teases, smiling and tilting his head.

“Do not start, oh my god,” Gareth replies, gathering up his drumsticks.

Practice continues as normal, playing covers, practising riffs, showing off for each other. Talking about original songs, snacking, invading Gareth’s mom’s kitchen for cans of coke. Well, mostly normal, if not for the looks Eddie is giving him from across the garage. Eyes wide, trying to gesture with his eyes, his head. Like’s he’s asking a question, inquiring, all without saying the words.

And Jeff knows exactly what Eddie is asking about. It’s what he’s always asking Jeff about these days — Chrissy. About their meeting in free period, about her sitting with him willingly. About Eddie’s unofficial bet about her being there again. About how he said he’d tell Jeff I told you so at practice. And ah fuck, Eddie’s trying to cash in. He tries to give him a look back from across the garage, saying not now, and also fuck off, you were right. Chrissy was there in free period, had remembered his name and sat with him again.

It felt like the start of a friendship, almost. The start of something new. Like kindergartners sitting together at the playground and declaring they were friends right then, right there.

But why did he have to do this now, where Frank and Gareth were there, watching, not knowing what they were trying to communicate. Gareth peering over his drum kit with his familiar scowl, brows furrowed and mouth tight. Fucking suspicious bastard.

He didn’t look at Frank. He knew he’d see that look on his face again. That he had figured out exactly what they were trying to talk about. He knew, but Gareth didn’t. And Gareth was going to be the tough one to crack, he was feisty, a real spitfire. Held on tight. Clutching onto that metal head title, the culture, the community.

“What the fuck are you two looking like that for,” he says, as one of their songs are winding down.

“Nothing,” Jeff deflects, letting go of his guitar, letting it hang from the strap across his chest. “Just Eddie being Eddie.”

“Oh et tu, Jeffus?” Eddie replies, feigning betrayal, but they can all see him smiling. “You’d betray me right here, in front of god and satan and everyone?”

“You started it,” he says with a shrug, tone light as Frank snorts back a laugh.

Eddie makes a noise of indignation, really starting to play it up now, as everyone watches him. He turns to Gareth, his hand on his heart, and bow his head. “It’s a guitarist thing, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh you can fuck right off then,” Gareth retorts, threatening to throw a drum stick over at Eddie. “Go eat shit somewhere else.”

“Maybe I will,” Eddie laughs, slowly backing out of the garage, watching as the cable extends between his guitar and the amp. “I don’t need you. Me and Jeff will go start a two man band, really kill it out there.”

“Don’t drag me into this!” Jeff says, laughing as Eddie continues to slowly shuffle his way out of the garage.

“Oh you’ve been dragged,” Eddie laughs, sweeping a hand out to the side. “You signed up for this, as my bestest friend in the whole wide world — and as my fellow guitarist.”

“What would you name your two man band?” Frank asks, successfully deflecting. Jeff feels himself sigh, the air leave his lungs. The tightness unfold its way out of his body. “And don’t say Corroded Coffin.”

Tag List: @goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr @panicatthediaz @m-owo-n @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaosgremlinmunson @thespaceantwhowrites @perseus-notjackson @eyesofshinigami @hotluncheddie @novacorpsrecruit @nburkhardt @pansexuality-activated @silentiumdelirium @steaddie-on @steddie-as-they-go @redfreckledwolf @lavender248 @actualwakingnightmare @queenie-ofthe-void @a-little-unsteddie

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

So for the ficlet build your own prompt thing could you maybe do “Should I kiss it better?”, someone who cares, hurt/comfort, and instrument?? (Btw love all your stuff, you’re such a talented writer ❤️)

Aw, that made me blush, thank you so much.

I did a little missing scene thing for your prompt - this would be after Eddie moves in but before these two dumbasses first kiss. Hope you like it. 🥰

I'm celebrating 1k followers - requests are open!

Maybe some day

Rated: T

Words: 996

Tags: domestic fluff; Steve Harrington needs a hug; Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson; Steve is Dustin’s dad; single dad Steve; good babysitter Eddie Munson; flirting; sexual tension; pining (oh God, so much pining)

Notes: Bonus scene to Someone who cares

Dusk is falling as Steve steps out of the elevator. His shoulders are sore from the office chairs, his eyes itching from staring at screens all day, and his head is feeling like someone is digging its way out through his eye socket with a pickaxe. He’s tired and weirdly on edge at the same time.

When he tries to unlock the door, he drops his keys.

“Fuck!” he snaps, then winces. It isn’t like himself, getting this angry at petty inconveniences like that. Then again, it isn’t really the keys he’s angry about. It’s his father and his stupid company and endless board meetings. Himself for being such a fucking pushover, for playing along in this farce.

Taking a deep breath, he wills himself to calm down. His head still wails in protest as he crouches to retrieve the keys.

The foyer is dark and silent, but a keg of light is filtering in from the living room.

Dustin is on the sofa in his pajamas, hands fiddling with something in his lap - Eddie’s guitar. When he hears him approach, he looks up, mouth tugging into an unamused scowl that Steve knows looks a lot like his own.

“Hey, Dad. You’re late.”

“I know,” he grouses, collapsing on the opposite end of the sofa. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Dustin pouts. “I wanted to stay up. Haven’t seen you all day.”

Steve, who was just drawing a breath to argue, snaps his mouth shut. Because the kid's right. He left before Dustin was awake and he’s only returned now, way past his bedtime.

What kind of dad is he?

The sound of something going twang startles him from his stupor.

“Ow,” Dustin yelps. “Shit!”

“Language,” Steve says, at the same time that another voice floats over from the kitchen.

“Jesus, I step out for five minutes and this is what you do?”

Eddie spares Steve a lazy wave, sliding into the spot next to Dustin to assess the damage. Like it's perfectly natural. Like they belong together. His son. The man he's in love with.

“You'll be fine,” Eddie mutters, voice fond. “No real damage done.”

Dustin scoffs, cradling his finger. “Still hurts.”

“I meant the guitar, dipshit.”

Dustin gapes at him. “You're such an ass. I'm injured here!”

“Aw,” Eddie coos, making grabby hands at the finger. “Should I kiss it better?”

Dustin balks.

“You're gross, I'm going to bed! Night, Dad!”

“Love you, too,” Eddie calls after him. “Remember to brush your teeth. Floss, too.”

He watches Dustin stomp off, dark eyes brimming with affection, and Steve’s heart flutters in his chest. Only to drop right out of his body when those eyes shift over to him.

“Rough day?”

“No,” Steve says automatically. Eddie raises an eyebrow, gaze sweeping over his rumpled form. Steve feels himself flush and rubs at his prickling neck. “Yeah, I guess. Just one of those- ow, fuck.”

His muscles scream at the touch and a jolt of pain zaps all the way from his shoulders to his skull. Eddie’s worried face shifts into a slow grin. He raises his hands, fingers wiggling invitingly.

Steve knows he shouldn’t. He’s promised himself to keep his distance, to not give in to his desires. He’s lucky to have Eddie here at all, and the last thing he wants to do is scare him away by doing something stupid. He’d never forgive himself.

But his self-control is a feeble thing, and it’s wearing thinner with each day.

“Okay,” he breathes, shifting his position and loosening his tie.

There’s a hum from behind him, and a shuffling sound, and then the warmth of another body blankets him from behind and deft fingers find the knots in his shoulders. It’s heaven and hell all at once, the sting of his muscles relaxing under Eddie’s touch, the feeling of having Eddie close. The knowledge that all he’d need to do is turn around and reach out and pull him in. Never let him go again.

“Sorry about the guitar,” he says, more to distract himself. “He needs to learn to be more careful with other peoples’ shiiit.”

“‘s okay,” Eddie murmurs, skillfully ignoring Steve’s pained hiss. “He was pretty grouchy about you being late, it was a welcome distraction.”

The familiar guilt settles heavy in Steve’s abdomen and he lets out an involuntary sigh. “Yeah. Sorry about that, too.”

“Don’t be.” Eddie shrugs, the motion pulling them a little bit closer together. “That kid loves the shit out of you. You’re a fantastic dad.”

Steve huffs weakly. “I’m a tired dad with one hell of a headache, that’s what I am.”

“Hm,” Eddie hums, and leans in. His breath is a warm tickle against the shell of Steve’s ear, lips almost touching skin, but not quite. “Y’know, that offer applies to you, too. I can always kiss it better.”

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat.

“Eddie!” Dustin hollers from the bathroom. “Where’s the stupid floss? I can’t find anything with your stuff in here!”

Steve has shot up from the sofa and is halfway across the room before he even processes it.

“I got it,” he blurts. “You stay put, you’ve done enough.”

“Fine,” Eddie quips, and Steve imagines there’s an ever-so-slight undercurrent of disappointment in his voice. “But after, you’re coming back and we’re putting on that stupid show you like. You need to relax, Stevie.”

There's a whole lot of things he needs to do, Steve thinks. Get a hold of himself. Tell his dad to fuck off. Tackle Eddie into the sofa and kiss him senseless, or at least talk about this thing that's crackling in the air between them like electricity.

Some day, he might.

But not today.

Today, he'll lie on the sofa and watch tv with Eddie’s feet in his lap and be thankful to have this mesmerizing man in his life - warm and close and so, so tempting, but not his.

For today, this'll have to be enough.

More celebration ficlets

[man-im-so-high]

kimi writer era i am SEATED.

for the prompts!!!!: “You pretending that cushion is me?”

//EMPTY BED// - m.h. x reader

warnings: none! pure fluff!

w/c: 1k words

a/n: this is my first official blurb!! i'm shitting my pants posting this 💀 ANYWAYS THANKS JAYE FOR BEING MY FIRST REQUEST ILYSM

//masterlist//

the clock kept ticking, driving you mad.

on the one hand whenever there's shitty moments or nothing happening at all, time won't pass - it stretches like gum. on the other hand, the good moments pass way too quickly. time itself is pacing, always.

right now time won't pass though.

you've been alone at matty’s concrete bunker of a home for a month already now. the longer you spend your time here, the more you realize that it's actually quite cozy somehow. everything in itself seems cold and harsh but together it creates some sort of comfortable, relaxing and balanced atmosphere.

but without matty it's once again cold and harsh. it's like the whole house loses its charm when he's not here.

the bed is colder than usual, everything is quiet - no music playing from his vinyl player, no typing on the typewriter, no jamming on his guitar, nothing - there's no smell of pancakes in the kitchen, the bathroom doesn't smell like his perfume and there is no mess. you're surprised that a thing that usually pisses you off has now become something you miss.

so here you are, on his couch, cuddling with a pillow while the TV is on in the background. there's some sort of reality tv show on but you didn't pay attention to it, you just need noise, the feeling of not being alone.

matty is currently on tour in north america. with you having to stay in london, seeing him is nearly impossible. only nearly though, but seeing him on facetime or hearing his voice on a simple call is surprisingly very hard as well.

on his days off it's easier. he's more flexible with his time management when there is no huge concert at night with the sound checks and everything beforehand.

he's currently in new york, playing one of their biggest shows ever tonight. he's excited, you know that. he has been excited for months now, basically ever since he found out that they could play there.

“i can't wait, oh my god. i will literally- explode!”

“on stage?”

“fuck yes i will, just imagine: we play sex and i just explode.”

“twitter would eat that up.”

“right?!”

but he has also been worried.

worried because it's a huge venue, worried because it's being recorded, worried because you're not there to calm his mind.

you glance at the TV - advertising, of course. you peek over at your phone. it's 3:24 am. usually you'd be lying in bed together at this time, cuddling, in deep sleep.

but right now the bed is cold - ice cold - and the cool concrete walls don't make it any better. you love this place but it's not the same without him.

you calculate in your mind. he's in new york, you're in london so the concert must be over by now. thus the waiting continues.

you look back to the tv. the reality tv show is over and now there's some sitcom playing. it's friends! finally, something funny to help you pass time.

a few minutes pass and your phone lights up. 3:31am.

“hey, you awake?”

another text

“concert’s over”

you instantly grab your phone.

“i'm awake! hope you had fun xx”

he quickly answers and asks:

“you wanna ft when i'm at the hotel?”

“of course :))”

finally you decide to turn off the TV and let silence and darkness take over the room. you take the cushion you've been lying on and holding and make your way up to the bedroom.

instantly, you miss matty. he's a living heater - and a comfortable one to say the least.

so when you lay back down, you lay on the cushion as if you were lying on matty's chest. if you squeeze your eyes shut, just enough, then you can almost hear his heartbeat. or maybe it's just your lack of sleep, who knows.

the tiredness comes creeping in, a yawn escapes your lips. in the same moment your phone lights up.

a facetime call by no other than matty.

happily you pick up.

“good morning, sunshine” an exhausted smile on his lips. he's happy to see you but the weariness from performing is evident.

his hair is damp, he probably just came out of the shower.

he's in bed as well, the bedside table lamp illuminating his face with a warm light from the side, throwing soft shadows on his face.

“good night” you tiredly greet him, a smile adorning your face when you see him.

“how was the concert?”

“oh it was great!” he started to ramble about the crowd, how the band harmonized, how the security and the whole team was great and how everything was perfect.

his soft voice and his endless talking could send you to sleep right then and there-

“hey! no sleeping yet! tell me about your day… or night.”

“uh, i didn't do anything special. i just laid around and was on my phone, i watched some TV and laid on this cushion because you're not there.” you point at the cushion that you're currently lying on.

matty seems to recognize the way you're lying on the cushion.

“wait, wait, wait, are you pretending that cushion is me?”

“maybe, i did. but then i had to realize it's a better cuddler than you are.” you tease him.

he laughs at that. “you're just saying that because you already forgot how good i am.”

a loud yawn leaves your mouth.

“is someone getting tired?” he chuckles and grins. you're so cute when you're tired.

“what do you expect? it's late.”

“get some sleep, sleepyhead.”

“can you stay on the phone with me?”

his grin grows even wider, he could melt at your cuteness.

“of course i will.”

a short moment of silence.

“so, what do you want me to do?”

“i don't know, just talk. tell me a story or something.”

and that's what he does. he knows you know all the stories, he loves talking - you love listening. he talks and talks, his voice almost as soft as the cushion you're resting on, slowly lulling you to sleep.

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 5

Thank you for all the great responses to this story it really means a lot.

Now they are doing a singing thing in this chapter, it's not that chapter yet. This is a prelude to that. Plus, I wanted to have Steve sing "Somebody' by Depeche Mode off the same album him and Lauren were talking about in the last chapter. Change the pronouns and it's definitely about all things Steve loves about Eddie.

I also added Lauren singing "Here Comes the Rain Again" from the suggestion in the poll because it's such a great song.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

***

Steve questioned the wisdom of going out to a bar their first day in Ashland, tired as both Eddie and he were. But at the same time it was also nice to get out and just have fun.

Apparently Danny’s brother Hal ran the joint so Lauren, Eddie, and he could come in. As long as they didn’t try and get booze they were fine to do anything else. Pool, darts, and even a little stage for people to sing.

Hal told them that he tried to get one of those newfangled karaoke machines but that they were on back order until Christmas. But they were more then welcome to sing their heart out to jukebox in the corner.

Lauren got up there and sang Here Comes the Rain Again by the Eurythmics.

“Falling on my head like a new emotion,” she crooned, just as low and melodic as Annie Lennox. “I wanna walk in the open wind. I wanna talk lovers do. Want dive into you ocean, is it raining with you?”

“Are all you Munsons talented in the music department?” Steve asked Eddie as he watched Lauren continue to belt out the song.

Eddie laughed. “No. I don’t know about my dad, but Wayne can’t carry a tune to save his life.”

“Maybe he’s talented in other ways,” Steve said with a wink. “Who taught you how to play guitar?”

Eddie ran his tongue over the top row of his teeth. “He did.”

“Uh huh,” Steve said with a grin. “And who bought you your first guitar?”

He sighed. “He did.”

“Sounds to me like he’s a good teacher if nothing else,” Steve finished with a grin.

“God you’re so annoying when you’re right,” Eddie huffed.

“That’s because I rarely am and so when that happens, I get to gloat.”

Lauren came bouncing back to the table. “Who’s next?”

“Toss you for it?” Steve said.

“You’re on.”

Eddie pulled out a quarter. “Heads or tails?”

“Heads.”

Steve watched as the coin sailed into the air and Eddie deftly catch it in his large hand. He slapped in on the top of his other hand.

“Tails!’ Eddie crowed. “You’re next, pretty boy!”

Steve leaned over and looked at the coin. He rolled his eyes and marched over to the jukebox, beginning to pour over the choices. He picked one and walked up to the stage.

He grabbed the microphone as the first notes came through the tinny jukebox speakers.

Eddie watched in awe. He had never heard Steve sing. Not really, fooling around in the car and being annoying for the kids wasn’t the same as what he was seeing in front of him.

“Did you know he could sing like that?” Lauren asked, not taking her eyes off the stage. “God, he could make money off that voice.”

Eddie could only agree. “I’ve never heard him like this.”

“She will listen to me when I want to speak about the world we live in and life in general,” Steve sang, his eyes half closed as he leaned into the microphone, one hand raised. “Though my views may be wrong, they may even be perverted she’ll hear me out and won’t easily be converted to my way of thinking. In fact, she’ll often disagree, but at the end of it all she will understand me.”

Lauren looked over at Eddie. “You know this is on that album him and I were talking about earlier. The Depeche Mode one.”

Eddie turned to her. “The one with the song he listened to a billion times?”

She nodded. “It’s called Lie to Me. It’s where the album title comes from. That girlfriend, the one with the dead friend, she really fucked him up, didn’t she?”

Eddie sighed. “I wasn’t there for that. We didn’t become friends until way after that. But yeah, I’m beginning to see exactly how much she fucked him up.”

She looked up at Steve crooning the last lines of the song. “Do you think if the world was different he would have changed the pronouns of the song?”

Eddie looked back at Steve as he bowed to thunderous applause. “You know, think he just might have.”

He stood up and greeted Steve with a hug. “Holy shit, man. That was amazing. Where did you learn to sing like that?”

Steve just blushed. “It’s your turn now.”

He went up to Hal and whispered something to him. Hal nodded.

Eddie got on stage and Hal came from behind with a small amp and a black-bodied electric guitar. He handed the guitar to Eddie and then began fiddling with the amp.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie said into the microphone. “Some of you might remember me, I’m Hal’s nephew, Eddie and I play metal.”

He started the opening riff to Run to the Hills and belted out the lyrics. Everyone was on their feet in an instant, Steve and Lauren with them.

Steve was cheering and laughing. It was nice to see Eddie play again after that horrific spring break from literal hell.

As soon as he was done he handed the guitar back to Hal and stepped off the stage.

“You are a beast, Eddie Munson,” Steve said, pounding him on the back when he got back to their table.

Eddie shoved his hair into his mouth to hide his blush. “Thanks.”

Steve ordered another round of sodas for them as they got to talking about their musical influences and who they would love to meet.

It hit ten o’clock and Hal was ushering them out as well as couple other under-aged kids who were there playing darts.

Once they hit the pavement Steve asked about it.

“Anyone under twenty-one always gets kicked out at ten,” Lauren explained. “It’s always been one of Uncle Hal’s rules since he bought this place when I was ten.”

Eddie nodded. “He doesn’t want anyone getting hurt for when the alcohol really starts flowing.”

“Too bad the funeral wasn’t next week,” Lauren said, shoulder checking him. “Then you could’ve stayed later.”

“Your birthday is next week?” Steve asked. “Why didn’t I know that?”

Eddie blushed.

“Because this weirdo doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday,” Lauren teased.

“Look,” Eddie said, “having a summer birthday sucks, okay? Especially if all you have is school friends who don’t give you their phone numbers or their addresses so you can invite them. And by the time you get old enough for that not to be a problem, you just don’t care anymore.”

Steve nodded. “I can understand that. My parents never really celebrated birthdays and by the time I got friends that wanted to celebrate, I learned very fast that it was for my big house and the expectation of an even bigger party.”

“Ouch,” Lauren said with a wince. “Maybe you two should pick a date to be your birthdays and celebrate whenever you want. It doesn’t have to be the actual date you were born. A lot of people that have birthdays on holidays and on leap years do it that way.”

“Oohh,” Steve said to Eddie, “yours should be March 27th.”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed. “Then when would yours be?”

Steve thinks about for a moment. “Either 3rd or 12th of November I guess.”

“Why those dates?” Lauren asked looking between them in curiosity.

“The third is when I chose my found family over a life of peace,” Steve explained.

“And the 12th?” Eddie asked.

Steve scoffed and shook his head. “That was the day I knew I was meant for more in life then dodging bad parents, letting my friends be assholes, and smoking and drinking my life away. I didn’t realize it then, of course. But yeah, that day means a lot.”

Eddie closed his eyes. “Steve...”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I don’t miss who I was.”

Lauren was even more confused because they seemed to be talking about something deeper than what was actually said.

“This has to do with all the bullshit Hawkins went through, right?” she asked. “The lab, the gas leak, the earthquake. That’s what you’re talking about?”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and nodded.

“Something like that,” Eddie confirmed.

*

The next morning while Steve was on the phone with Robin, Lauren dragged Eddie into her room.

“Look, you don’t have to like the music,” she explained handing him a cassette tape.

Eddie looked at the tape. Some Great Reward by Depeche Mode, he sighed.

“But at least listen to it,” she said. “I have it queued to that song he mentioned, Lie to Me. Even if you don’t listen to the rest of it, I think you should hear that one. I think you’ll learn more about your friend.”

“Laurie...” he said with a sigh. “If he wanted me to know, he would have told me, don’t you think?”

“That depends,” she said. “Do you like his ex?”

Eddie reared back is head with a frown. Did he like Nancy? He guessed well enough. He had come to respect her, at the very least. He liked Steve more, sure. But yeah, if she called to go see a movie, he wouldn’t turn her down.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Lauren grabbed him by the arms and maneuvered him to sit on her bed. “I have known Steve for less than twenty four hours and I can already tell he’s the most self-sacrificing idiot since Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie opened his mouth to protest, but she raised an eyebrow and he was forced to concede her point, waving his hand at her.

“So believe me,” she continued, “when I say that he hasn’t told you shit about what went down with his ex is because he doesn’t want to ruin things between you and her.”

Eddie nodded. “I know it’s a big fucking ask...” he sighed. “But see if you can find out what happened, maybe he’ll tell you and you can at least give me advice on how to navigate that mine field so I’m accidentally blowing up shit.”

Lauren nodded. “I can’t guarantee shit, but yeah, I’ll try.” She sat down next to him and leaned around to look him in the eyes. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

Eddie clasped his hands together and nodded, pursing his lips.

“Does he know about your…certain proclivities?” She looked up at the door to make sure no one was around.

He did the same and then nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.

“And he’s okay with that?” Lauren pressed.

“His best friend is gay and encouraged me to come out to him, too,” Eddie said. “He’s a really good dude.”

Lauren pressed her lips together and thought for a moment. “Are you in love with him?”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

Then they heard running up the stairs and suddenly Steve was the door.

“Hey guys,” he said. “Penny told me to come get you both, she needs help preparing for the wake tonight.”

Eddie and Lauren shared a glance.

“We’ll be right there, Stevie,” Eddie said with a smile.

Steve nodded and dashed back down the stairs.

“Do you think he heard?” Lauren asked, staring at the place Steve was once standing.

Eddie just shrugged. He couldn’t have, could he? They heard him come up the stairs, after all.

Right?

***

Pt 6|Pt 7|Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

Some people love having a summer birthday. Growing up, I most certainly did NOT. As for the dates Steve brings up Nov. 12 1983 is the day he chose to run back inside the Byers house and battle a demogorgon. Nov 3rd 1984 is when Dustin intercepts Steve's apology to Nancy to help him find Dart. Both are very significant to Steve in his journey to be a better person.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee

[haunted-headset]

WILBUR MEETING YN AT A VINYL STORE.

Thats it. THATS THE REQUEST 🤭

HOLY SHIT!!!! MY FIRST ASK!!!! YES!!!!

☆ We Fell in Love in October ☆

Summary: You work at a vinyl store near Wilbur Soot's apartment. One day, he comes in & asks you where a specific vinyl is. You compliment his shirt. He compliments your voice. & the rest is history.

Pairing: Cc!Wilbur x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of soulmates

Word count: 556

Genre: Fluff

Tags: @joviepog (mutuals/followers, let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one!)

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this! Sorry if it isn't good :p

You exhaled softly as you stared at the clock in the vinyl store. 7:45 pm. 15 minutes until closing time. Thank God.

"Maybe I'll be able to get off of work early," you mumbled to yourself.

& that's when he came in.

He was a tall man, with perfect chocolate brown curls & a gorgeous face. He had simple glasses & a guitar on his back. He looked very out of breath.

"Are you still open?" he asked, breathing heavily. He had a lovely British accent that sounded like music to your ears, like a song that you would play all day every day for a week straight.

"Yeah," you said with a smile. "What can I help you with?"

He smiled softly & said, "Do you have any Los Campesinos vinyls?"

You nodded. "Right over here." You walk over to where the Los Campesinos vinyls are. You motioned toward his Arctic Monkeys shirt. "I like your shirt, by the way."

He smiled again. He had such a gorgeous smile. "Really? You like Arctic Monkeys?" He sounded so giddy & it killed you.

You nodded. "They're one of my favorite bands. I got to see them live once. The lead singer's kind of an asshole."

He laughed. "I've heard that he was a jerk." He paused before saying, "You have a really nice voice, by the way. That probably sounds weird as fuck, but your voice is really lovely."

You felt your cheeks heat up & you smiled. "Thank you. Your voice is nicer, though."

He laughed again. You could listen to him laugh all day. "Your voice is nicer."

You laughed. His smile got wider.

"You have a really nice smile, too," he said. "& a very nice laugh."

You laughed again, not entirely sure what else to do. He laughed with you. You both stood there for a moment before he turned over to the vinyls & grabbed the one he wanted. Breaking the silence, he asked, "What's your favorite Artic Monkeys song?"

At the same time, you both said, "My personal favorite is Do Me a Favour." He laughed, covering his mouth with his hand.

"We're practically soulmates at this point," he said jokingly.

"Are you flirting with me?" you replied with a smirk & a raised brow.

"Maybe," he said with a shrug & a smile.

You chuckled & walked over to the counter. "Ready to check out?" He nodded & placed the vinyl on the table. You told him the price & he paid, leaving a few extra dollars in the tip jar. When he asked for a receipt, you quickly wrote something on the empty space on the receipt.

"Bye...what what your name?" the man asked.

"Y/n," you said. "What's your name?"

"Wilbur," he said. "Wilbur Soot."

"Well, I'll see you around, Wilbur Soot," you smiled. He returned the smile as he walked out. As he walked out, you smiled to yourself, knowing that he'd like what you wrote on the receipt.

As Wilbur walked home, he looked down at his receipt & his face flushed. At the bottom of the receipt, Y/n had written "Call me <3" with their number below it. He knew that he was going to call them tomorrow for sure. & come to the vinyl shop again.

& the rest was history.

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.6 (ellie’s journals)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: a significantly different writing voice! this is going to be a very different vibe from the other chapters since i had to write it as i imagine ellie would (which is a lot different than i do). slight nsfw content (mdni), language, mentions of violence/gore, angst, ellie’s pov is actually really depressing

a/n: soooo i know it’s been almost 3 months...and i’m really sorry about that! a lot of stuff happened in my life and i kind of fell off writing for quite some time. but i finish series, so i’m going to get through exoplanet in its entirety so i can finally give you all closure. some preliminary notes: know that these are modeled after how i imagine ellie would journal if she did journal this much. canonically she didn’t do that much writing that follows a narrative like it does here. i think it’s honestly a little ooc for her to be emotionally responsible enough to talk out her feelings, but given that there’s no other way to tell her side of the story (save for legit rewriting it from her perspective, which would take another 6 months or so and be horrifically repetitive), i decided to just suck it up and write it. i’m sorry if it sounds awkward, since she definitely doesn’t write in a voice that i have much experience with. the next chapter will be better!

word count: 5.5k

tags~ @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl​ @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28

(i haven’t updated this yet bc my tags aren’t working)

a special special SPECIAL thanks to both @roarriita and @elliesflower​ for being soooo sexy and betaing for me. you both are so wonderful and helped me sm in feeling good enough to post this :)

without further ado, enjoy ellie’s journals!

January 20th, 2038

Today’s been…fucking…

I don’t even know where to start. I don’t get why this sort of shit always happens to me. First it was being bit and somehow surviving. Then it was getting carted off across the country. And now some girl basically falls out of the sky, claiming that she comes from some sort of paradise up North?

I’ll spare the immediate details. I don’t think I’ll forget the basic stuff—her name, the way she looked clutching at her knees in the clearing and shaking. That stupid shirt she had on and that expensive scarf.

I still want to believe that she’s just a liar who happened to get lucky with running into us, but even without Joel vouching for her story, I don’t think I’d ever be able to buy that she’d been living in the same world as us. I’ve never met someone without scars before. I didn’t know that there were people out there who didn’t have marked up arms and faces. Or people without calluses. Did you know that hands can be totally smooth?

Anyway. Tommy says that he’ll try and reach out across the contacts he has. Joel has her living right down the hall from me in the meantime, so now I have to share my bathroom. Hopefully the Terranovan authorities are good at finding people. She takes so fucking long to shower. It’s a wonder the whole compound still has hot water.

[One page of drawings follows: Dina smiling in the snow on her horse, Joel playing his guitar]

January 25th, 2038

Maria says that they’re thinking about breeding Shimmer soon. I know she told me because that means I’ll need to ride another horse for a little until she recovers and I know that we need another generation of foals, but it still made me cringe for Shimmer’s sake. She’s too free-spirited to be a mother. She doesn’t deserve that.

I went stargazing last night. It was pretty. Lots of shooting stars. I ran into the girl while I was coming back from the meadow. She gave me a weird look, and I could tell she wanted to ask me where I’d been but kept her mouth shut. Sometimes I regret dropping off that bag of clothes. I really fucking liked that gray sweatshirt, actually. I’m not even joking. It looks weird to see it on someone else.

[Half a page of drawing follows of the night sky with labeled constellations]

February 5th, 2038

Long time no see. I’ve been pretty busy with patrols and helping Maria with securing the walls. Joel made me try some of that coffee that our new house guest brought. It was just as awful as I remembered, but he seemed happy. So one point for the space girl. I guess.

Dina’s been hanging around more. She just broke up with Jessie (yes, again). She swears that it’s for good this time, but I’m not so sure. She also talks a lot about Y/N and what little detail she’s gathered about her life back in Terranova. I thought teasing her by asking her if she had a crush on Y/N would make her talk less about it, but it just made things worse.

I miss when things were normal.

[One page of drawings follows: one of Shimmer in cross-ties, another of a girl’s face, half-finished with the face scribbled out]

February 12th, 2038

Today I’m sad. I’m in bed with that book about astronomy that Joel nabbed for me on patrol a while ago and there’s a section I wanted to read that’s completely waterlogged. It shouldn't be a surprise. It’s decades old and has survived through an apocalypse. Normally things like this don’t bug me much because I’m so used to it. Half of my Savage Starlight collection is damaged. I don’t think I’ll ever find the first book to actually complete the series, and that’s okay, because I’ve never expected anything more. But now that I know that there’s a world out there where I’d never have problems like this, stuff like this hurts. It’s so stupid. I’m lucky to be alive. Compared to what’s left of the world population, I live a much cushier life than most. But for the first time in a while, I’m wishing for more.  

“Greed is the enemy of happiness” is what Maria would say if I ever said this kind of shit out loud. But is it really? Or is it just realizing what life can be?

[Half a page of a drawing of the solar system, with each planet labeled]

February 22nd, 2038

Maria let me pick the sire for Shimmer’s foal. It felt kind of gross, to be honest. I asked Maria if there was any way for Shimmer to choose and I was only sort of joking, but she just laughed anyway and patted my back. I won’t have to worry about finding a new horse for another two seasons or so, she told me. It’ll be weird not having her for a little.

She also told me that there was still no word from anyone who knew anything about Terranova. She said this to me in this placating voice, like she thought that I was going to punch a hole in the wall or something after hearing it. That seems to be common when it comes to people talking about Y/N and me. I don’t know why so many people think I don’t like her staying with us.

I don’t, by the way. Let me be clear. But I mostly feel indifferent about her now. She doesn’t bother me as much anymore, not since she started getting out of the house. I think she might be helping in the gardens, but I’ve never actually asked. We don’t talk a whole ton. I don’t think she likes me all that much.

[A drawing of Shimmer’s head poking over her stall door that takes up one page]

March 2nd, 2038

Today was finally our first nice day of the year. I would’ve enjoyed it more if the bird that lives in the tree outside my window hadn’t blown me out of bed at 4 in the fucking morning. I’m exhausted now. It’s been a long day. Joel says I need to take Y/N out on patrol soon. Why, I have no idea. Maybe he just wants me to actually befriend her or something, and I do nothing but patrols now. He can’t possibly expect her to be a good patrol partner.

Thankfully, I checked the logs when I came back. The route he wants me to cover with her has been the quietest all season. I doubt we’ll run into anything. If we do, I’ll probably be able to handle it. Hopefully.

[Half a page of doodles, mostly of nature and wildlife with the exception of a half-finished doodle of an arm clad in a fabric that drapes like silk and a hand with polished nails]

March 3rd, 2038

Many surprising things were learned today. I can’t believe it’s illegal to be gay in Terranova. Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just—out of all the things they could be bothered by, it’s that? Really?

March 12th, 2038

I haven’t been good at journaling recently. I don’t really want to talk about why. You know why.

[Six pages of drawings, with many unfinished doodles of Y/N—including but not limited to her on her horse, her reading on the couch, and one with her sitting in what is a very loose interpretation of a classroom, taking notes]

March 13th, 2038

I will feel more normal tomorrow. Hopefully.

[Two pages of drawings, all of Y/N. One is her bent over a book, the other is her smiling up at you]

March 14th, 2038

I did something really stupid. I think I should probably just document this here so I don’t accidentally drunkenly spill it all out to Dina at the next bonfire. This is so embarrassing. I don’t get why I feel this way. It’s so stupid, you know? To feel anything towards someone who’s so…I don’t know. Different.

She gives me the weirdest looks sometimes. I can’t tell what they mean. It feels like she’s judging me. And why wouldn’t she be? I bet all the girls she spends her time around back home are just like her—perfect, orderly, pretty, proper. The day before I took her patrolling she gawked at the shorts I was wearing. It was borderline offensive. Actually, fuck that. It wasn’t borderline. It was offensive. You don’t just stare at people like that. She should know that.

Anyway, I invited her over to my room last night. Normal, right? Because we’ve been doing that a little since I took her on patrol, by the way. I’m not sure if I mentioned that before. But this time I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m…I don’t know. Creepy? Strange? Scary? She told me that she thought I was intimidating. And then I called her “untouched”, like how some old-timer devout Christian wackjob or whatever would describe virginity. It was so fucking weird of me. I don’t know what got into me, but she kept doing this thing where she kicked my foot with hers or touched my knee and it just threw me off. It took me forever to fall asleep last night—I kept replaying what I’d said to her, especially how I’d told her that she wouldn’t have made it if she were me like I was some sort of hardcore survivalist. I think I embarrassed her. I’m never doing anything like this again. I’m going to be dead sober every time I see her from now on.

I’ll stop talking about that. Y/N did come back after I’d made a fool of myself and showed me her collection of movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. I haven’t watched any movies since I was with Cat. When we first started dating, I’d invite her over and she’d sit right where Y/N did last night. I’m trying to not think of the implications, because it’s space girl, and she’s going home sometime soon.

[Three pages of drawings follow—some nature drawings of ferns and moths, others of Y/N with wet hair, her knees tucked up to her chin like she’d been in Ellie’s bed that night]

March 19th, 2038

It’s the Spring Equinox. That’s the first thing Y/N told me this morning when she saw me in the kitchen this morning. She gave me a mini lecture on what that meant for the planet’s axis tilt and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I already knew, since she seemed really excited to tell me.

I made a horrible discovery yesterday, by the way. Maria came up to me and told me that Tommy had decided to reach out to some of his other buddies up North to see if they had any connections to Terranova, and for the first time, I felt myself hoping that it wouldn’t work.

It’s awful. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. Even in Jackson, where things are comparatively much better than the rest of the world, there’s risk. Just this winter, one family had to be kicked out when they were found hiding an infected son. No one here is completely safe, just safer. I shouldn’t be selfish. Y/N needs to go where she’s meant to be, where there’s no chance of infection or invasion. I’ll be fine. I just need to get over whatever this is.

Speaking of her, I need to go get her to tell her that we’re heading out on patrol in just a few minutes. Fingers crossed she doesn’t accidentally shoot me, but Joel swore up and down that she knows how to handle a gun now. Sure. Haha.

I’m back. It’s the middle of the night and she only just left my room. I don’t know how much detail I need to go into—chances are I won’t forget this. But for bookkeeping purposes: patrol did not go so hot. I had to give her stitches without any local anesthesia. I’ve never given stitches to anyone nearly in my lap before. I was really nervous, too. I don’t think I’ve ever had to focus so much on keeping my hands steady when it came to stitching someone up before, not even with Joel.

I’m starting to think that maybe I was wrong about thinking that she didn’t like me. I still can’t tell exactly what she thinks of me, and I know that it’s a really bad fucking idea to be entertaining thoughts like these, but tonight she did something that made me reconsider. She got under the covers with me, and instead of moving away to keep us from touching, she rested her head next to mine on the pillow.

I hope she couldn’t hear how much my heart was racing. People can’t hear that kind of stuff, right? Even if they’re close?

I’m being ridiculous. There’s no way she—No. She doesn’t see me like that.

March 21st, 2038

She rested her head on my shoulder today. I don’t know what to think of it. If she was normal and grew up like the rest of us did, I would know exactly what to think. But she’s not normal, and it’s not fair of me to treat her like she is. Maybe this is, like, a culturally acceptable thing back from where she grew up. Maybe rich people just cuddle each other all the time. I wouldn’t fucking know, and unfortunately no one in this godforsaken town can help, because there’s a distinct lack of what Maria calls the “bourgeoisie”. They’re all either dead or back where Y/N grew up, doing whatever rich snobs do.

Even if it is normal for her, I feel like I can’t stop analyzing everything she does. She seems more nervous around me than she does anyone else, but she lingers like she can’t help herself. I’ve noticed that she stumbles over her words and touches me much more than is really necessary. Or at least I think she does—maybe I’m just imagining things.

But even if it means what I think it does, I can’t let myself think like this. It’s not fair to her. No one deserves to live here if they have the choice. At least the people out here know how to handle it. She doesn’t, and I don’t want her to turn into the type of person who does.

When I stitched her up and teased her about being weak and sensitive, I think she thought I was insulting her. I try not to think about it, but if I let myself wallow too much, I’ll wonder what kind of person I’d be if I wasn’t so jaded. Maybe I’d draw more, or read more, or write more. Maybe I’d be an easier person to love. I didn’t get to choose how I turned out. It just happened to me.

So if she has the choice, I’m going to do everything I can to help her make the right one. I don’t want her to be like this.

March 29th, 2038

I had a dream about Riley last night. I haven’t had one of those in years, not since I was traveling with Joel. We were back in the mall, and Riley had just turned the lights on as a surprise. I had this feeling then, like I was being given a second chance. That I could set things straight and do what was right. I woke up before I could insist that we leave.

[A drawing takes up half of the next page. It’s a crude depiction of the mall Riley turned in.]

April 4th, 2038

It’s the middle of the night again. I can’t sleep. I’m so disappointed with myself about what I did tonight with Y/N. At the time, it seemed like a really good idea. She likes me back, apparently. I was right about everything that I wrote about earlier, I guess. But it certainly doesn’t feel like I thought it would.

It’s not like there’s no part of me that isn’t thrilled that she feels the same way. That’s why I gave in and slept with her. But even when she told me how she felt, even before I completely lost my self-control, something heavy was already hanging over me. Regret, maybe. Or guilt. I don’t know. What I do know is that this can’t last. I can’t make this good for her like I want to. She needs to go back, and she needs to be able to feel like she can make that choice without feeling like she’s leaving anything good behind.

I’m not a spiritual person. but even so, I can’t help but feel like that dream of Riley was a sign. This is my second chance. I’m not going to fuck it up this time. I’ve already been an accomplice of so much suffering. Y/N is going home, and I’ll never see her again when she does. That’s that.

It took all I had left in me in the end to kick her out. She looked so hurt, and the fact that she tried to hide it made it even worse. I wish I could tell her why this can’t work, but I don’t think she’d understand.

[A drawing of Y/N kissing Ellie’s palm follows, her hair slightly mussed]

April 6th, 2038

I need to stop making rash decisions like knocking on her door late at night and asking her to come over. I really don’t know what’s gotten into me, because whenever I see her now, I can’t help but freeze up. Like last night, when she kissed me and touched my face and told me she thought I was a good person. I panicked and told her—well, nevermind. I don’t really want to repeat it here. It was mean, but I didn’t know what else I could do to get her to stop.

She was already tearing up by the time she left. I had to sit down and breathe deeply for a few minutes before I was sure I wasn’t going to be sick. I don’t really think I want to write more about this right now. It just makes me sad how unfair this all is. Of course the one time after Cat that I meet someone I really like it just has to be in one of the cruelest scenarios possible. I just have no idea what to do.

[Five pages of drawings follow of Y/N in bed, her head tilted back against the pillow, her eye’s half lidded, and her mouth slightly agape. Ellie redraws this multiple times, x-ing out parts that don’t seem quite right]

April 10th, 2038

I know this is none of my business, but she’s been spending a lot of time with Dina lately. She nearly got herself killed getting a gift for me with Dina yesterday, which feels like some sort of especially cruel joke. The universe isn’t being very fucking subtle right now.

If what I’m worried about is right, at least Dina has the option to come with her up North. She’d test negative.

April 20th, 2038

I would really like it if I could have one short break from the misery that’s my life right now. I turned 20 yesterday, accidentally introduced Y/N to my ex, proceeded to get much drunker than I meant to, completely fell off my rocker and asked Y/N to stay the night, and then discovered this morning that not only has Terranova found Y/N but that my strategy of keeping Y/N at arm’s length completely failed.

She wants me to come with her, and she’s threatening to stay here otherwise. I did the only thing that I could think to do and snapped at her.

I’m so tired of this. I hate having to act like I don’t care. This is the third time now that I’ve had to say something nasty to her to keep her from getting too close. I just want to get in bed and sleep until she leaves and I can pretend like nothing ever happened and that everything is normal.

[One page of drawings of Y/N passed out in her bed and Y/N grinning while holding a lopsided cake]

April 28th, 2038

I know I haven’t been writing much again. Sorry about that. I just can’t bear to think about my life right now. I know I should be relieved—this is what I wanted. I wanted her to go where it’s best for her.

But there’s still that selfish part of me that keeps me up at night. Y/N is going to leave this place never knowing how I feel about her. Logically, that should be what I want. This way I won’t need to say a real goodbye. I know I won’t need to now, since she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. It’s really fucking immature of me to be so hurt by what she must think of me now, but I can’t stop.

I wonder how long it will take for me to stop feeling sad about this. I’ve never had to process anything like this where there’s nothing I can do. With Riley and Sam, I at least got to heal from the knowledge that I was going to help make the vaccine to save the world. But losing Y/N just because of where we come from is totally meaningless. I can go forward knowing that I made it easy for her to make the right decision, but that only goes so far.

I don’t know how I’m going to handle this. I’m going to practically live with Dina so I don’t need to be alone for the first few weeks.

I wish May 8th would just come already so she can go away and I can get on with my life.

May 1st, 2038

Things have changed some. Joel cornered me in the kitchen last night and told me that I needed to grow up and just appreciate the rest of the time I had left with Y/N. I was going to agree and try to walk past him, but he stopped me and told me that he needed me to escort Y/N. I guess he’s right. She can’t go alone, and Joel and Tommy are getting a little too old for week-long expeditions into the wilderness.

He also told me that I need to apologize to her and make things right, saying shit like I’d regret it forever if things ended between us like this. I don’t want to admit it, but I think he’s right. When I told him that she’d originally threatened to stay if I didn’t go with her, he blinked, hard. Then he told me that he had an idea.

I’m faking it. I’m telling her that I’m going, even though I’m going to leave her when she gets picked up. I don’t know how I’m going to pull it off. When I told her in the meadow last night, she was so happy. I know it’s really sappy and cliche to say this, but I felt my heart shatter, bit by bit. I’m not a very good liar, not to people who are important to me. But I suppose I’ve been lying to her all this time, kicking her out of my room and telling her that I didn’t want anything more with her.

I can do this, I think. I have to do this, or else she might threaten to stay, and I don’t think I have it in me to be cruel again. Not to her. I guess I’ll just trick myself into feeling like I’m actually coming with her, like we have a chance of actually being together. I don’t know. We’ll see.

[One drawing of Y/N laying down in the meadow that takes up half a page]

May 3rd, 2038

It’s easier than I expected. Y/N sleeps over in my room at night, and if I don’t think too hard about it, I can pretend like things will always be like this.

I’m getting to be such a sap, though. I almost broke down in the bathroom today while I was getting ready. It was over the stupidest thing—a toothpaste bottle. Y/N always folds it so neatly, making a perfect, tight spiral of plastic near the end. It used to really bother me when I first had to share with her (because who does that—it’s weird and doesn’t do anything since she doesn’t manage to squeeze out the extra in the bottom anyways), but the thought of throwing it out when it finally emptied and having to find another one that’ll never be folded again hit me and suddenly I was counting my inhales and exhales. I don’t really give a shit about toothpaste. It’s just that it was the moment that I realized that she’s really going to be gone soon, you know? Slowly but surely, the evidence of her stay here will be wiped away and replaced. Someday I’ll forget all the little details about her.

She’s knocking on my door. I need to stop being so depressed and go see her before she picks up that something’s wrong.

[One small doodle of Y/N smiling and rolling her eyes while brushing her teeth]

May 6th, 2038

Dina’s coming now. Y/N told me this morning after she went to say goodbye. I feel really shitty about this. I guess I should tell her that I’m not going now, because this way Y/N needs to go home to get Dina the help she needs, but I just can’t bring myself to. I’ll have to escort both of them to the pickup spot anyway since Dina’s weaker now that she’s pregnant, and the thought of having to spend a full week with Y/N after she knew I lied to her makes my skin crawl. I can’t tell who I’m trying to protect by doing this—me or her. Maybe both.

I’m losing my two favorite people here, and they don’t even know it yet. But this is the best option. This is my chance to finally do some good in the world.

May 7th, 2038

I’m about to go stargazing with Y/N for the last time. I don’t think I’ll be writing in here again until I get back. I don’t want to risk losing this while I’m out in case something crazy happens. Which it probably will, but I canonically happen to be really good at living when shit hits the fan. Also—I don’t imagine Y/N to be a particularly nosy person, but if she ever came across this and thought it was a book or something, it would make things really awkward. So, you’re staying tucked carefully under my bed until I come back later this month.

I don’t know how to handle this sort of goodbye. I don’t really know how to handle any sort of goodbye, I guess, but at least I’ve been through them before. I may not do it well, but I know how to live when people I love die. But this isn’t like that. No one is dying (hopefully), and more importantly, I know it’s a goodbye this time. I see it coming on the horizon and I can’t even tell anyone about it. How does anyone deal with that? How does anyone cope?

Y/N’s knocking on my door now. I need to go before I start thinking even more and do something stupid like start crying or whatever.

I’ll be back in about two weeks.

June 1st, 2038

Sorry for not writing. It’s been pretty shitty, actually. It took me 5 extra days to get home because some scavengers gave me trouble. I hardly slept for most of them. I ran out of ammo about 4 days out and had to use my knife for everything I ran into until I was able to raid the cabinets of this abandoned cabin. Nearly got taken out by a clicker, too. It was not fun. It was especially not fun because I was not feeling super great to begin with, for obvious reasons.

Things haven’t gotten any better since getting back to Jackson. Y/N didn’t take her stupid Exoplanetary Systems textbook and now I’m struggling with whether or not I should throw it out. The rational side of me says to keep it because it was published after the outbreak and probably contains updated information that isn’t anywhere else. The rest of me doesn’t even want to look at the stars anymore because it reminds me of her.

It’s really hard not to blame her for ruining everything. I can’t go out and ride my own horse without thinking about the first time we went on patrol together and she dropped my gun and nearly killed one of us. And I can’t even relax in my own home, because I’ve spent almost every night with her since March in my bed. Sometimes when I hear a creak in the middle of the night I assume it’s her walking down to the bathroom or getting water until it hits me again that she’s never coming back.

I know I’m being melodramatic. There are many other worse problems I could be having right now. But I don’t even have my best friend anymore. I wonder if Dina and Y/N are angry with me for lying. I wonder if they’re settling in okay. I hope that Y/N manages to fix whatever her research was and that Dina gets better.

[Twenty pages of drawings of Y/N and Dina together. Some are snippets of them on their expedition to the pickup site. Others are pictures of Y/N and Dina walking around with smiles on their faces in what looks to be a city]

June 21st, 2038

It’s been over a month since I’ve last seen her. I had a breakdown while getting ready for bed when I realized that I didn’t remember what her voice sounded like anymore.

[Ten pages of half-finished drawings, each with its face scribbled over]

June 28th, 2038

I don’t think I really remember what she looks like—not exactly. I’ve been trying to draw her because I’m still in the habit of making decisions that are definitely not good for my mental state. I just can’t do it, and it isn’t for the lack of trying. Every time I get to her eyes I keep drawing something that looks wrong, but I can never tell why. I compare it to my earlier drawings of her from when we first met and it feels like meeting her for the first time again.

Joel says it’ll pass and that he’s proud of me for doing the right thing. Jessie and I have been hanging out more. Even if he won’t admit it, I can tell he’s miserable without Dina. But he understands why she had to go—just like how I feel about Y/N. And Dina too, of course. Jackson feels like a ghost town without her.

July 17th, 2038

I haven’t been writing or drawing in here for a while, I know. I was going to just go ahead and start a new journal—you know the one that Maria gave me for Christmas with the dark blue cover—but it didn’t feel right to just stop without explaining. Otherwise I’ll feel like an asshole for wasting so much paper.

I don’t want to move on from what happened with Y/N and Dina. I really don’t, but I don't think I have a choice. If I keep going on like this, I’ll never be able to live normally again. I’m just sick and tired of being sad all of the time. So I’m not going to write here anymore. I don’t think it’s realistic for me to forget all about it, because I don’t want to forget her. Not really. But I guess if I want to get better, I’ll need something different. So, here’s that. The beginning of my fresh start. “Fresh start” and you call me overdramatic!! haha. Y/N was here!

(You left this on your nightstand. I promise I didn’t read too much. I opened it because I thought it was your sketchbook. I’m going to put this back since I hear you walking down the hall now.)

ok as an aside my blog is broken so my stuff isn’t notifying people when i tag/showing up on dashes or in tags. please reblog if you’re comfortable so people can actually find this! thank you!

final a/n: i totally get it if this wasn’t quite your cup of tea this time—i just really wanted to iron out ellie’s pov before their reunion in the end. which is happening and not a spoiler because i have always promised a hea! this was a change in pace for the story and i promise you that the next chapter will be more normal/align more with my normal writing style. i have also changed my mind (probably) and have decided to stick with writing an epilogue! so two more chapters are coming before this is totally over. thank you so much for waiting and being so patient! i love you all dearly ok bye bye now

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Three

Literally saw the orange sweater and my heart sank. Here we go.

George's hair!! I hate him.

Also literally WHY does he have to lend them his own personal recording equipment? It really is ridiculous how bad the record company treated them considering they were the fucking BEATLES.

Magic Alex! Honestly though why is half of me like "Yes! Scamming king! Take their money and RUN!"

"My Imagination" is physical cringe level.

"The rhythms in the guitars anyway." It's a callback to their earliest days when they had to say that to hustle, but I think part of them really did believe that back then, and part of Paul still does. That the four of them are all they need.

And then in response to that callback to early days to convey current not-articulable feelings, John responds with one of his own. His mini rant about how stupid it is to use three mikes and never come together and sing as a GROUP. It's like he can't bear the thought.

Paul singing his guitar and drum ideas. Apparently my sexuality is women and unhinged men. There's nothing to be done about it. Poor George literally can't get a word between all Paul's "Downownownowneernernerner" and "chuchuchutah ba Ta. Ba." And if I was a good person I'd be annoyed. But no. It's too hot.

"Corny's alright on this one though because what he's doing's corny." Be fucking nice to him. He needs you to be like you were on 909 about every single thing he does because he cares so much what you think. Of course they don't talk about that kind of thing so Paul has no idea. But look at his face!

I also like "the same old shit," George. "Don't Let Me Down" is so fucking sexy idgaf what anyone says.

But here's the other thing is that John is SO down for all of these wrong suggestions Paul's making. If they're not literally saying the same thing at the same time, it's instantly "Yes. Exactly. Yeah."

So John says "alright girls" and sounds like he's just so above Paul and George squabbling and bickering and couldn't care less except for the fact that they're annoying him. Because that's his macho front, right? But then look at his face while they're fighting, eyes darting and full of love, sorrow, and what honestly looks like fear.

Ringo stays the hell out of all of it. Good for him.

Shortly after Paul says "I can't frickin do it on camera either" John starts strumming. And soon George joins, while Paul's pacing and gesturing. And at first I was confused like "they're not being very good listeners that's not very nice" but they're trying to cover up the dialogue for Paul's sake. Trying to take away the cameras if he can't do it with them. "Forget about candy camera." It's very loving, very protective, especially from George. John, we expect this kind of thing from, when it comes to Paul. But George is literally in a fight with him and protecting him at the same time and I find it to be so beautiful.

Gosh, there's so much in this little rant though. "I always feel as though I'm tryna put you down and stop you playing *voice cracks and goes higher* but I'm not." How he looks at John when he says "and I never get any support or anything" and the "and you know it's right." I usually find the 'Paul's the mom, John's the dad' analogy reductive, but boy is it perfect here.

But really, Paul, you've got to just let George do his thing. "I can only do me, you know." George is absolutely right in this argument. He's actually very emotionally mature for being the youngest.

Ugh it's hard to leave them on this note. But I'll pick back up tomorrow

[theemporium]

[1.6k] your co-worker eddie munson had a knack for making you blush so it was only fair to return the favour.

.

Nobody was a bigger flirt than Eddie Munson.

Whether it was intentional or not, at least everybody who had ever spoken or interacted with the boy could vouch that he was a flirt. It was like a switch he couldn’t quite turn off, or a dial that was turned all the way to full. He was a flirt no matter who it was or what the situation was. 

And despite the reputation he held around town and what people whispered when he thought they couldn't hear, nobody was immune to Eddie Munson’s flirting because he was just so goddamn good at it. 

You didn’t quite understand how or why, but he was. 

Hell, you had seen a lady pushing her eighties fully fucking blush because Eddie apparently had enough game to even catch a senior citizen if he wanted to. 

Eddie Munson was a big fucking flirt and the reason you knew that so well was because you worked with him. 

You had both started around the same time at the record store. It was a small establishment, based downtown but it was loved and a staple in the community. From second-hand records to new tapes, to old instruments donated in to even some half decent equipment, the store had everything you’d want as a music fanatic for an affordable budget. 

You guessed pretty quickly that was why Eddie loved it. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the boy loved nothing more in his life than music. He treasured his tapes like they were his most prized possession, he treated his guitars better than some people treated their kids and he could ramble on for hours if you let him (and sometimes you did let him because you liked the sound of his voice). 

For you, it was more so that you needed a job and a vacancy happened to pop up. You were nowhere near as passionate or well-versed as Eddie was, with your instrumental skills going as far as being able to play a solid two chords on the piano without it sounding too bad. But you clearly knew enough to be hired, plus you were more in charge of the genres Eddie didn’t really dabble into. 

It took a solid week of working with Eddie Munson for you to realise he was a flirt.

It took a solid five minutes for Eddie to work out that nothing got you blushing like some good ol’ cheesy pick up lines. 

And as the weeks passed and you two continued to work and share shifts together, an unspoken game had sort of settled between the two of you. One that neither of you ever really established, nor did you set down any rules. But it was a game you both went along with for reasons neither of you were quite sure of. 

“Hey, sweetheart?” 

You let out a small hum of acknowledgement, not looking away from the pile of vinyls you were currently sorting through. Whatever asshole that had taken the shift before you had done it all wrong and now you were left cleaning up their mess. 

“Are you a parking ticket?” 

You paused what you were doing, lifting your head to stare at the grinning boy who stood on the other side of the counter from you. “What?” 

Eddie’s grin only seemed to widen with your obliviousness. “Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you, baby.” 

You let out an amused snort, tucking your chin against your chest in hopes that he wouldn’t see the blush growing on your cheeks but he always did. He always fucking did. 

And you never understood why you reacted the way you did. The pickup lines were nothing short of horrendous or bad. They were funny, sure you would give them that and you were almost certain he was reading them from some bad book or magazine, but you never quite understood why they made you blush. 

That never mattered to Eddie, because he loved to see the way your cheeks grew pink and the way you tried to act like they didn’t affect you. He liked pushing your limits, seeing how flustered he could get you in different situations, to see if you’d ever tell him to stop—but you never did. 

“We have a new shipment coming in later this week,” you told the older man on the other side of the phone, leaning against the counter as you went through the same speech you had already given him three times. “I would be happy to note down your name and reserve a copy for you to come and pick up. 

Blah Blah Blah

“Yes, I know this is frustrating, sir, but it is all we can do at the moment.” 

Blah Blah Blah

“Yes, I can give you a few moments to think over your options.”

You had been so caught up in the phone call that you hadn’t even noticed Eddie approaching you until you felt the heat of his body pressed up against your back, an involuntary small noise squeaking past your lips when his hands rested on either side of the counter, essentially caging you in. 

He didn’t say or do anything at first, his mere presence driving your senses into overload as you tried to act like the proximity didn’t bother you, that you were fully capable in acting like he wasn’t there. And you probably could have lied to yourself if it weren’t for the fact you weren’t even totally sure you were still holding the phone or not. 

And then he leaned his head down, the curls of his hair tickling against the skin of your neck and his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he leaned close enough so his lips were almost touching your skin. And then, only after holding that position for what felt like hours, did he finally fucking speak.

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.” 

And just like that, he was gone. Fucking gone. Leaving you with burning cheeks, a thundering heart in your chest and a very pissed off customer on the other side of the phone. 

It wasn’t until the three month mark when it became clear to you just what the game between you and Eddie was—and then again, you only realised it because it was spelt out to you by a mutual friend, Steve Harrington, who had all but enough of the runaround games you two were playing.

Because yeah, Eddie was a pretty boy. And yeah, he made your heart feel like it was gonna beat out of your chest and your stomach erupt in butterflies. And yeah, sometimes you just wanted to pull him closer and drag your fingers through his girls and down his shirts where you knew he hid a slightly toned stomach from the times you ogled him when his shirt rode up and—

Yeah, it was honestly a little embarrassing that it took Steve saying it to you for you to realise you had a crush on your co-worker.

And even more embarrassed when your friend told you that all those cheesy fucking pickup lines were Eddie’s stupid little way of trying to ask you out, to get your attention and see if you reciprocated any of his feelings. 

So, with some newfound determination and an urge to reimburse the three months of running around in circles over the stupid little game that formed between you both, you had a plan set in place. 

A plan that seemed to work perfectly on the next shift you shared together. 

It was the closing shift, the sign had already been turned over at the door and you both were just cleaning up the shop for the morning shift. The radio was humming with music, filling the space as you shuffled around each other until you had to move some boxes into the storage room in the back. 

You could see the glint in Eddie’s eyes that told you he had a pickup line planned, that there was one on the tip of his tongue and he was excited to use it on you. You couldn’t remember when you started noticing it, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your chest warm at the mere sight. 

Grabbing the last box, you shuffled into the small storage room, struggling with a small huff to get the box on the shelf until a pair of arms wrapped around you, easing the box onto the shelf like it weighed nothing. 

Letting out a small sigh, you turned to face the boy and flushed him a grateful smile. “Thanks.” 

“No problem, sweetheart,” he said with a grin, and you knew he was gonna say it. You knew it was right there, ready to spill past his lips but you bet him to it. 

“Hey Eddie?”

He paused for a second. “Yeah?” 

“Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?” 

Eddie blinked. And then blinked again. And then blinked a third time because he was still not sure he heard you right. 

“What?”

A grin slowly started to spread across your face. “I said, kiss me if I’m wrong but—” 

“Yeah, you’re fucking wrong,” he grumbled before he reached to grab your face in his hands, his lips on yours before you even had the chance to say anything. 

Your hands tightened on the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer until your back was pressed against the shelves of boxes and his body was pressed completely against yours. You let out a soft moan when his tongue swiped over your lip, teasing you, taunting you. 

“Guess those pickup lines worked after all, huh?” he whispered against your lips and you could feel the smile on his lips. 

You snorted, slapping his chest lightly. “Don’t push it, Munson.” 

“Oh baby, it’s only gonna get worse now that I know you can kiss like that,” Eddie said with a grin that told you he was pretty damn serious about his threat. 

“At least take me on a date first.” 

His grin widened. “Deal, sweetheart.”

.

[d0g0r0t]

Random Band!Mizu hc

Her Bass

This bitch plays bass change my mind

She played acoustic guitar first but liked the way electric bass sounded more

Her bass was a hammy down from Eiji

He taught her a little but told her "if you do not learn from your mistakes, you have learned nothing" and left her to it

She started when she was 14 and the first day she played after 15 minutes she yelled "I GIVE UP!"

Then the next day she played again

Then did the same thing

Over time she got really good at it but she played differently then others because she had no help involved and learned what was best for her

She snapped one of her strings once and thought she broke the whole thing. She didn't even know they COULD break

She ran to Eiji having a whole break down and he just laugh

She got it fixed and felt like a dumbass

Her bass is this matt navy blue color and has a Japanese wave design strap.

Reference ⬇️⬇️⬇️

The Band

She joined after meeting Ringo. He saw her bass in the corner of her room and bombarded her with questions and if she would join his band. She was anxious but said sure

But her first practice when she saw Taigen she wanted to break her bass over his fat ass forehead

Taigen is lead guitar

Ringo is lead drummer and side singer

Akemi is lead singer and plays the piano in some songs

First practice she spent it learning from Taigen which was super fun to watch

"So then it's a E string-" "Taigen for the last fucking time I play bass you idiot" "WELL I DONT OK GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!"

Akemi record so many fights between them its insane. She could ruin both their careers if she wanted to

She HATES being in the spotlight and thank God Akemi and Taigen take it.

She never liked being seen and normal stands near Ringo, away from the light.

And yet people still make edits of her

First time they played was for one of Akemis friends, birthday

Taigen got drunk before hand and almost ruined everything but some how it went well

Mizu dragged his shit after

Band members

Ringo

He has special prosthetics for his drum sticks so he can easily snap them in. He uses thicker drum sticks so they fit better

His drums are a mix of things friends gave him and his first drum kit. He likes the different colors of his drums, he uses the symbols from his first kit because he likes the sound more then new symbols

Akemi

She plays a shit ton of things that her father wanted her to play, but when she was alone she learned she could sing

Her dad HATES that she's in a band that isn't basic. But Suki always supports her

She has a more higher pitch voice a bit like younger Billie Eilish but she sings like Lacey Sturm from flyleaf ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Taigen

He learned on acoustic first like mizu but he stuck to it

He started playing when he was 12 after finding his grandpa's old guitar in his garage and kept it ever since

Although he prefers acoustic, he plays electric for the band

His acoustic is this basic beaten tan colored guitar with old strings and a basic strap

His electric is this gorgeous shiny sage green color with a dark green strap

Reference ⬇️⬇️⬇️

I disappeared again guys mb

Also if you guys want a bass player! Mizu x reader just ask and we'll see what happens 👍

[somnambulic-thing]

Siren Song

been sitting on that draft for ages. Eddie x afab metal vocalist!reader not really proofread, E18+ CW: concert setting, heavy pining, he comes in his pants :3

Words: 782

---

And what do you do after graduating highschool when all you want to do is play your fingers raw on the guitar or get your ass kicked in moshpits while your eardrums got blown into the stratosphere?

You move to the city and try to get by doing jobs that not fully annihilate your dignity and dedicate every free minute to the music.

And while Eddie had hoped to find a crowd where he wouldn't stand out like a fucking lighthouse on fire, he didn't expect to be welcomed in the scene with such open, heavily tattooed arms.

He gets invited to shit all the time, soon he has to choose between this concert or that house wrecking party on the same night and four months in, he gives notice to his three shitty jobs because that one dude he met at that grindcore show two weeks ago remembered he as looking for something in the business and called around for him to let him know about that free position as stagehand at that venue that fit almost 3000 people and was notorious for picking newcomer bands as support acts who quickly became established names in the local scene and past their borders.

The job is hard but the crew starts to feel like a family very soon. Eddie would have never dreamed of finding a job that made him want to hang around on his days off.

Eddie had spent hours convincing Jeff to move here too after graduation and the time has finally come. He’s now sharing a space with his best friend and they can finally make music together again and that has to be celebrated.

The lineup this Saturday consists of bands he’s never heard of but his colleagues insisted he would enjoy the show and since Eddie gets an employee discount on drinks and wants to show Jeff his domain and introduce him to a few people. So they head out to the venue in high spirits.

They sit at the bar with some of Eddie’s 'new' friends when the opener begins. The intro is a long instrumental thing that starts with low and slow notes on the guitar that then give way to distortion, almost like static and Eddie is already zoning out of the conversation. It’s engaging, almost like a finger that curls in a heavy rhythm to lure him in, calling for him to join the crowd. He asks Jeff if he wants to check out the band, but Jeff is good where he is so Eddie slips off the bar stool and makes his way towards the stage.

The moody angry mystic sound urges him to move faster, to step fully into this moment, into the realms of sound, and command him to surrender to this sonic adventure. It’s like a fucking siren song and then he rounds the corner and backlit in bright white floodlights out of the fog emerges his siren. You.

He’s starting to push through the crowd when your voice hits him like a gut punch and god how badly he wants you to knock him out. Every hair on his body is pointing towards you, pointing him the way home and in his hurry he bumps shoulders and collides with elbows but he barely feels it and it all fades away when he finally reaches the stage.

He’s front and center now and it takes all of his willpower to not keep going, to not hoist himself up and lie down to your feet. And as if you knew of his dilemma, you come to the edge of the stage, you lean in on your crowd, voice swelling, louder and louder and suddenly you are so close so close so close and he will surely die if your eyes will meet him but oh what a way to go on from this life.

The music grows impatient, signals a nearing release and you stomp your foot on the monitor box right in front of him. Heavy black boots stomping the rhythm of the song right in front of his face and he will break his neck looking up at you like that, like he was witnessing the return of a goddess and missing one second of it would doom him for eternity. Oh, the way your music moves through you as if it’s an extension of your body and have his fucking jeans always been so tight?

You throw him around like he’s lost at sea and he can’t but mourn the air leaving your throat going to waste; he wants to inhale what touched your vocal cords, wants to live on the ether that fuels your voice.

And then you throw back your head, strobe light exploding like a violent halo around you and you scream like you’re made out of thunder and lightning and Eddie comes in his pants before that fucking song is even over.

---

soundtrack inspiration for the music !!!not for the actual people!!! for those who care

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (19)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader) (?who knows at this point..)

(*SCREAMING UNTIL MY VOICE IS GONE* hahahaha i'm finally done with this devil forsaken chapter! I literally cannot articulate HOW hard this chapter was, for who knows what reason! I don't know why but this chapter was a struggle. like some trial a fucking greek god would give me to make me stronger or whatever. but.. I did it finally. PLEASE reblog and comment so I can feel like the pain I went through was worth it y'all 😭🥺👉👈)

—————

Bored.

That’s been his general state of things for about.. I don’t know, maybe 5 months? At least since he’d finished taking part in that last pvp tournament on the championship battle server. But the battle season has finished and he’s not found anything new to hold his attention. 

And Phil was busy working on a new build that's taken up his attention. And Techno would help but he knows Phil wants to do it himself, the man is so picky about his builds so Techno just leaves him be. Usually by now someone would have got in contact to hire him for his war faring services. Some kingdom or warring faction, looking for someone well versed in battle and strategy to help them turn the tides. But-

A yellow feather fluttering into his field of vision followed by the sound of flapping wings made the red eyed hybrid look up to see an incoming parrot holding a rolled up letter tied to its leg.

“Well, speak of the devil or whatever,” Techno said in his usual monotone drawl as the parrot landed on his shoulder.

It held its leg out and he took the offered scroll before reaching into his inventory to grab some seeds to feed it. Then once it was happily munching away he unrolled the letter, wondering which server it could be from. Probably some new upstart one inhabited by a bunch of idiots with conflicting opinions who don’t realize they can just go separate directions and end it. That was usually how it went. People were all the same. They find out their opinions don’t match up, they bicker over it, they fight, someone invariably gets killed, they wage war, and then rinse and repeat. 

But as he read the letter he realized it wasn’t from just anybody. It was from Wilbur, Philza’s kid. Jeez, he hasn’t seen him in what feels like one hundred years. 

Huh, when was the last time he’d seen the bespectacled boy? He actually can’t recall. He thinks back, far back, scouring his memory for instances with Wilbur. He remembers his round glasses, his warm yellow sweater, and his love for anything music. Techno recalls how Wilbur had always detested battle, fighting, anything like that. Hell, he hadn’t even liked wearing armor, even when it was for his own good. Which Techno thought was both foolish and endearing. He himself was always suited to battle, falling into it like how a bird takes to the skies. But he’d always seen Wilbur as so far removed from being suitable for violence. 

All the younger man had ever said he wanted to do was sing, play music, and write. He truly had the heart of a poet, that was for sure. Getting him to learn some basic defense so he could travel to the nearby villages on his own without being a sitting duck had been similar to pulling teeth for Philza, his son always treating the lessons like a chore. But he and Phil had managed to teach him enough self defense so he could be safe out on his own, at least from the mobs. And once that was handled then Philza didn’t feel so worried leaving his boy home alone, meaning he and Techno could go traveling again.

And Wilbur hadn’t been bothered by this either, seeming to enjoy having some time to himself when his father and Techno were out. They always came home to Wilbur playing his guitar either outside in the yard, enjoying the sun, or inside by the fire to stay cozy. He’d been perfectly content. 

And then one day they came home and Wilbur hadn’t been alone like he’d always been before. He’d had some kid with him, a little boy who actually bore a strong resemblance to Philza, what with his blond hair and blue eyes. That had been more than a shock, he’ll admit. Walking in and seeing Wilbur with some random kid they’d never seen before, just sitting on the floor in front of the couch like it was no big deal.

Yeah, that had been Tommy, and according to Wilbur he’d found him eating out of the trash in the village so he’d brought him home. Of course. When Philza asked where Tommy’s parents were, the kid had wrinkled his nose and said they were probably at home. That had turned into them grilling the kid, trying to figure out where their house was so Wilbur could return him. 

But Tommy had kicked up a huge fuss, shouting about how he left on his own and he was never going back. From how he’d described it, his parents hadn’t been the best. Not even close actually, they’d sounded like shit to be honest. I mean if your toddler is willing to up and leave with zero intention of going back to you, like 100% willing to eat out of the trash instead of staying with you then yeah you’re probably a shit tier parent.

Wilbur had begged Philza to let Tommy stay with them. He had nowhere else to go and leaving him out on the street seemed messed up and he was so little, it’s not like he’d take up much space anyways. Yeah, Wilbur admitted the kid kinda ate a lot but no more than he guessed all kids ate… But they had a huge garden and some cows so it wasn’t a huge deal, right? 

Techno had been against it, they’d JUST started getting back to traveling again since Wilbur was old enough and capable enough to look after himself now. He’d argued that they didn’t need another little gremlin running around touching their stuff. He’d been eyeing the little blond boy as he stared openly at Techno’s own enchanted sword that was strapped to his belt. He’d tucked it into his inventory to keep it away from the kid and his no doubt grimy little fingers. 

But Philza had always been such a sap when it came to Wilbur and his ‘sad boy eyes’. So he’d ended up folding like a house of cards pretty quick, though he’d warned Wilbur that the kid, Tommy, was his responsibility. Philza wasn’t going to start looking after him when he’d not had any hand in taking him in. So Tommy’s well being was now solely in Wilbur’s hands. 

Phil had actually been really serious at that part, asking Wilbur if he knew what he was getting into? Because Phil knew how hard it was to care for a child, it was exhausting and sometimes thankless, and you can’t just stop whenever you want because someone defenseless now relies on you.

Wilbur hadn’t been dissuaded though, and pulled the shorter boy close in a half hug, saying he’d be the best big brother ever! Nevermind the child had started gnawing on the arm Wilbur had around him.. Techno couldn’t help but roll his eyes back then and even now as he remembered that promise. But Wilbur seemed happy at least, and neither Phil nor Techno would have to take care of the kid so it hadn’t been so bad. And later when they were alone Phil shared that he was actually glad that Wilbur wouldn’t be alone at home anymore. He’d felt bad leaving his boy all alone, even though he could defend himself. 

Techno assured him that Wilbur was a big boy now, practically an adult himself. So he didn’t need Phil worrying about him so much. Phil had laughed and said that was true but he couldn’t stop worrying, it was a parent thing. You never truly stop worrying about your kid. Techno figured that made sense but still told Phil that that was one of the reasons why he wasn’t having kids, too much stress. Techno’s a busy guy, he can’t be losing sleep over some helpless nerds. That had gotten Phil to laugh, which had been Techno’s goal. So, goal accomplished. 

Things had been good after that. At least that’s how Techno remembered them to be. Him and Phil would travel and explore to their heart’s content, coming back to the house every now and again to take a break and check up on the brunet and blond. The kid grew like a weed, looking taller and taller with each visit. Him and Wilbur growing closer in height as well as their bond, soon acting like true brothers. 

Wilbur had been so happy, and Techno remembers the last time he’d seen him. Him and Phil returned home for another short time between tournaments. They’d walked up to the forest surrounded property they’d called home to see Wil lounging against the porch, guitar in hand with Tommy chasing around a bee, trying to catch it.

They looked so peaceful. And Techno thought that’d never change.

..But reading his letter now made Techno’s stomach sink a bit. 

Wilbur was asking for his help. His professional help.. Looks like he’d joined a server not too long ago and started his own nation; L’manberg. Technoblade couldn’t help but close his eyes in annoyance while pinching the bridge of his nose at hearing that. Nothing good ever came from governments, if he’d said that once he’s said it a million times. To the point where if he were a cartoon character from the 80’s then it’d be his damn catchphrase. But people just keep making and joining governments, even Wilbur it seemed.. 

And from the tone of the letter it looked like Wilbur was in big trouble. 

Techno scrubbed his hand down his face, his snout scrunching as he turned the letter over in his mind a few times before sighing and taking out his ender chest. With some mild annoyance he decided to help Wilbur out with his war. Better than sitting around being bored out of his mind at any rate. So he composed a letter back to the brunet, letting him know his services wouldn’t be cheap just because they knew each other, but he’d gladly help him turn the tides. Once that letter was done he handed it over to the parrot, watching it fly off back to Wilbur.

Then on a whim he decided to compose another letter, this time to Phil, letting him know what his son was up to. But knowing the winged man, he’d probably just find the whole thing amusing. 

“Well.. I better get packed while I wait for Wilbur’s reply,” Techno said before heading back to his house.

-0-

You carried Azo in your arms as the four of you walked back to L’manburg from the nether portal. Internally you were still seething at Wilbur, you knew what he’d done, to a child of all people. You knew Wilbur, deeper and more intimately than he would ever be comfortable with. But you’d held out hope he’d never sink so low as to harm a child.. You’d really clung to the sliver of hope, despite everything you’d seen him do in the lore streams..

But now you knew with a sad certainty how low he was willing to go for what he wanted. And you wanted nothing more than to sink your teeth into his throat and rend his esophagus from its place in his neck before crushing his skull between your palms. Your jaws ached with the fervent desire to cause the vile bastard as much pain physically as he’d caused you and your children mentally and emotionally. 

Though instead of succumbing to those feral desires you instead took a long measured breath in through your nose before letting it out through your mouth, just trying to calm your white hot rage since you needed to focus on the three kids you had with you and not the dead man walking over in fuckin Pogtopia~

You all got to your house and you mentally focused on how too small it was for your family now. Tommy and Tubbo already had their own rooms at your place despite each having their own homes elsewhere. You noticed they usually stayed here at night to sleep, which you were fine with. You preferred it actually, knowing they were safe in bed at night under your roof. But with Azo staying here full time you’d need to make her her own bedroom. 

Planning that out calmed your rage thankfully. Turned the magma level heat into a soft manageable simmer. Looking down at the little piglin in your arms made you feel so much better. Things weren’t perfect, no, but you’re just so glad she’s okay. You almost lost her and the thought makes your heart feel like it was being tugged out of your chest. But she’s okay. Things are okay. 

You remind yourself of this as you carry your baby through the threshold of your, and now her, home. You breathe and stop at the kitchen, telling the three it’s around lunch time and you’d make them some food. Both boys cheered and sat at the table, while you sat Azo on your hip with one arm while using the other to grab some stuff out of the ice box you kept around to hold food for the two teens. 

Azo watched you pull things out with curiosity, not sure what any of them were. Which sent a pang of sadness through you because you know you’ve let her try most of these before but she clearly didn’t remember it. Though you cheered yourself up with the knowledge that she could just try them all over again, rediscover her favorites and least favorites. You still remember the way her little snout had wrinkled up in distaste when she’d first tried a slice of lemon. That had been hilarious and you’d wished you had some way to record it to keep the memory forever, but oh well. 

“Mum, can you make us some of that fruit flower tea?” Tubbo asked from his spot at the table.

You smiled and said sure, and reached into the cabinet for the jar of tea you’d made for them not too long ago. You figured a warm meal and warm tea would be better for Azo right now since introducing her to cold stuff in the Overworld, which was already colder than the Nether, would be too much too soon. You noticed with a frown that she already seemed to be chilly. So while the tea was steeping you went over to the couch and grabbed the wool throw off the back and wrapped it snugly around her shoulders. She snorted happily at the sudden barrier from the chill this new world seemed to have.

“We’re gonna have to get you some new clothes, kiddo. Some that keep you warmer than your current ones do,” You said as you went to put some meat skewers onto the smoker and some potatoes in the furnace to bake.

You hummed and swayed your hips back and forth slowly as you watched the food cook. Then the tea was ready and you took Azo to the table and pulled a couple books from your inventory before sitting them on the chair, then you set her on top of them so she could reach the tabletop. She snuggled into the blanket around her while you went to fix the tea.

After giving each kid a cup you finished up the food and sat with them so they could eat. You idly listened as Tubbo and Tommy both talked to Azo, telling her all about L’manberg and their friends, and how they were going to show her around soon maybe.

You just let yourself zone out, taking comfort in your kids all being safe in one place right now.

-0-

Quackity had thought over what he and Reader had discussed the day they started rebuilding the White House. She said he had to make a decision since Schlatt had basically bailed on L’manberg. And she’d also said he’d deserved better than how Schlatt treated him. He’d honestly not wanted to think about that. Because thinking about her words made him throw his entire relationship into question. Did he deserve better than Schlatt? He wasn’t sure how to answer that. If he did then why did he deserve better? 

He didn’t want to start dumping on Schlatt, because they’d honestly had so many good times together. Great ones. They’d vibed so well while dating, Quackity can’t count how many times the ram had made him laugh his ass off. Just them two hanging out, sharing some drinks, spending nights out on the town in other SMPs, it was some of the best times of Quackity’s life. Even now, thinking about those times brought a smile (and soft flush) to the duck hybrids face. I mean Schlatt was charismatic, funny, and knew how to make his knees feel like jelly. Plus he had a few other good qualities he didn’t want to focus on too much in public..

But his smile faded away as those sweet memories made way for the not so sweet ones. Things had been great, yeah, but only when Schlatt wasn’t in a bad mood. Now that Quackity actually thinks about it there was always the worry of Schlatt’s good mood evaporating looming over their relationship. If he wasn’t happy then his bad mood sucked the good atmosphere right out of the room. It could be suffocating. The first few times it happened he’d try to give the ram hybrid some space, figuring he’d get over it. But that usually led to arguments, Schlatt asking if Quackity planned to leave any time things weren’t going perfect. That’d made him feel like shit, so he’d started doing all he could to keep the good vibes going.

Quackity isn’t sure when he’d gotten used to it but soon things fell into a rhythm of things being super great and awesome followed by something pissing on Schlatt’s good mood, then him being an asshole, Quackity doing everything he could think of to cheer him up, and then everything repeating in that cycle. It could feel exhausting at times but he just supposed that was just how relationships were supposed to be. But after what Reader said.. he was starting to question if that was right or not. He’d been so conflicted that he’d broken down and asked Karl for advice for a ‘friend of his’ who was having relationship issues.

He’d lied and said it was for a girl he was friends with on another server who was having issues with her girlfriend. Karl had listened to his edited version of events and told Quackity his friend was in a not very good relationship and she should break up with her girlfriend before things got even worse. That had just made his stomach sink further but he played it cool and thanked Karl for hearing him out, and he’d talk to his friend later and tell her what he thought she should do. Karl gave him a sweet smile and wrapped his arm around the dark haired male in a side hug before replying,

“Don’t worry, man. That’s what friends are for. Tell your friend if she needs any help leaving then she can come to us, we’ll help her out of there no problem.”

Quackity couldn’t help the smile hearing this gave him and said he’d let her know.

That’d been hours before and he knew he needed to message Reader and tell her where he stood. It wasn’t good to leave things ambiguous with her, not regarding his allegiance to L’manberg.. She’d messaged him earlier that morning, asking if he was doing alright. He hadn’t replied, wanting to talk to someone else about what he was thinking first. But he knew he couldn’t leave her on read for much longer. 

But just as he was getting ready to open his communicator.. it chimed.

He sighed, thinking it was Reader. But when he checked it his throat closed up.

‘Schlatt whispers to you: can we talk?’

Quackity gulped, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat as he read and reread the message at least 7 times. Curses ran through his head as he sat up on his couch, still staring down at the device on his wrist. He tore his eyes away, harshly scrubbing his hand down his face, just trying to calm his racing heart as he tried to focus on one thought at a time. Okay, okay, okay- he needed to relax, just- He jumped when his communicator chimed again. And when he looked back down at it anxiously he paused..

‘Schlatt whispers to you: please babe, come on

‘Schlatt whispers to you: i miss you

The duck hybrid stared down at the screen hard, biting his lip enough to draw a drop of blood as he did. Then with shaky hands he started forming a reply…

—————

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