#they used names and ten years in the joint

[haggord]

what is going onnnnn in the yakuza tv show……I swear they just used the names from the game and that’s it

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 5th Prompt: Reunion

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 6 | Day 7

@steddie-week

“Babe,” Eddie calls from the kitchen. Steve’s in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, so he garbles out an unintelligible one minute! before quickly finishing.

He walks into the kitchen, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “What’s up?”

Eddie’s eyes are dancing with mirth as he helps Steve fix his collar. “You’ll never guess what just came in the mail.”

Steve raises a brow. “You’re acting like my parents are groveling at the door right now.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, no. I’d very much be laughing in their faces if that’s what was happening.” He grabs Steve’s glasses from the counter he’d forgotten them on last night, unfolds them, and carefully slides them on Steve’s face. “No migraines,” he murmurs, and Steve’s hit with a rush of love so big he just has to tell Eddie.

“I love you.”

Eddie smiles softly; a small, disbelieving, hopeful thing that’s never changed from the first time Steve said it. “And I, my love,” he murmurs back. “But no, it’s not your parents.” His grin grows into a giggle. “It’s fuckin’ Hawkins High.”

Steve makes a face. “It’s still standing?”

Eddie snorts. “Apparently-fucking-ly.” He grabs two letters; one with Steve’s name, one with Eddie’s. “One letter for each of us. I already opened mine. It’s a reunion.”

Steve furrows his brows, rips into the envelope, pulls the paper out. “Hawkins High School… forty-year reunion… de-” he frowns up at Eddie. “Decennial?”

Eddie hums, nods. “Every ten years. God knows where our other ones went.”

Steve hums. “Guess we can throw these in the trash, huh?”

Eddie shifts. “You don’t want to go?”

Steve stares at him incredulously. “You do? You, Eddie Munson, want to go back to the place where—and these are your words, here—apart from our group of friends, only the- the backwoods of inbreeding resides?”

Eddie cackles. “Oh yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” He’s delighted. Steve’s finding it hard not to smile in the face of that joy.

“So you want to go back?”

Eddie shrugs. “Think about it,” he requests. “I don’t want to go to see how anyone else is doing. Frankly, I don’t have the time to give two shits about them. But you know I’ll always jump at the chance to show you off.”

Steve raises both eyebrows this time. “You want to show me off? In fucking Hawkins?”

Eddie deflates. “You don’t want to go.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, babe, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that even though it’s legal, even though we’re officially married now, if there’s one place that isn’t gonna be accepting…” he trails off, lets Eddie finish the thought for himself.

“What if I convince Nancy to come?”

“Well, she’ll have to come if we go, won’t she? Cause you know she’ll go anywhere Robin does, and Robin’s gonna follow me, so…”

Eddie snickers. “Okay, yeah, fair enough. But babe, we’ll have Nancy and Robin on our side. The three of you took on Vecna, I think you can take on some overweight, washed-up, balding fifty-something-year-old.” He squeezes at Steve’s biceps, and Steve tries not to preen.

He’s proud of the care he’s shown his body, he’s proud of the way he looks, he’s proud that Eddie likes the way he looks. He can feel his resolve waning, is about to tell Eddie fuck it, let’s go, when his phone rings.

He pats his pockets, looks around for it. “Room,” Eddie supplies, and Steve gratefully peck his cheek before jogging to their room, where it’s laying on his nightstand. Eddie walks in as he answers it, having followed at a more sedate pace. “Hello?”

“Are you going to the reunion?”

“Hey, Robbie,” Steve chuckles, meets Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah, we are.”

“Yes!” She cheers. “You’re the best, we’re getting joint hotel rooms, right?”

He laughs and sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s Hawkins, Robs, I don’t think it has anything quite that fancy.”

Robin groans, loud and long enough that both Steve and Eddie have to stifle their giggles. “But I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“It’s been barely a week, Robbie.”

“That’s what I said!”

He relents. “I know. I miss you too. We’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and hangs up.

Steve looks at Eddie, amused. “I guess we’d better pack. And you should tell the guys, don’t you have something going on that day?”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, and runs to the living room for his phone.

Steve surveys their room and sighs. He calls out to Eddie, “bring me a notepad on your way back, please!”

Eddie does, so he sets to work making a list for everything they need to pack while Eddie types away, postponing his plans.

While they might not get joint hotel rooms, Steve, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy are carpooling back to Hawkins in Robin’s van. She’s driving, Nancy’s in the passenger seat, Steve’s right behind Robin and Eddie’s right behind Nancy. Their luggage is piled precariously in the back, meaning every time Robin turns, the luggage slides from one side of the van to the other. Steve, with his mostly-undiagnosed OCD, flinches every time. And every time, Eddie pats his hand.

Besides the shifting suitcases, it’s a nice ride, even if Steve does grab Eddie’s hand and squeeze, just a hair tightly, whenever they pass the Welcome to Hawkins! sign.

Everyone gets a little quiet, after that. Robin fumbles with the radio, and Eddie perks up. “This song,” he says, practically bouncing in his seat.

Steve snorts. “Iron Maiden,” he tells her.

“The fact that you know that-”

“It gets worse,” he tells her, grinning. “The song is called Wasted Years. I know all the words.”

Robin grins, turns the volume up.

The joke’s really on her, though, because she’s always been good at music, patterns, and she’s singing the chorus with him and Eddie by the time they get to the end of the song, Nancy laughing at them. “So understand,” they sing, Robin glancing in the rearview mirror, Steve looking from her to Eddie and back again. “Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years. Face up, make this stand. And realize you’re living in the golden years!”

Steve and Eddie are practically screaming it at each other by the last line. Robin’s given up to join Nancy in laughing at them. Steve joins in as Eddie plays air guitar to the end of the song, collapsing in a laugh when it’s finally over.

“Okay,” Eddie says, grinning. “I think I could take on anything now.”

“Yeah?” Nancy asks, pointing ahead. “You’re ready for the reunion?”

They’d decided, since the last time they took a proper road trip had been too many years ago, they could do it the same day as the reunion.

They’d forgotten how getting old, coupled with the problems every one of them still has from the Upside Down, means they’re all very much sore from sitting in a car for upwards of five hours.

The plan was drive the five-something hours, go to the reunion, crash in the hotel, and drive back home the next day.

Steve hates the plan now and wants to go to the hotel to rest like the old man he’s letting himself be.

However unfortunate it may be, the reunion is today, which means Steve gets to suck it up, say hi to people he probably doesn’t even remember anymore, and then leave.

He hops out of the car and stretches a little, laughing when Eddie attempts the same hop out of the car and almost eats asphalt. “Dumbass,” he mutters. Eddie shoots him a Cheshire grin.

Before long they’re ready to walk inside. Steve takes a breath as he passes through the doors. The hallways are the same, but the lockers are new. It still smells like teenagers and feet, he notices, wrinkling his nose. The things you’ll get nose-blind to, he supposes.

The letters they’d gotten said the reunion was to be held in the gym, so that’s where they head.

Steve didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t a few snack tables along the edge of the room and a single Reunion of ‘85 banner. “Goddamn,” Eddie says from beside him, “depressing much?”

Steve snorts in agreement and walks over to the drink table. If he’s going to talk to people, he’s at least going to have questionable-looking punch while he does.

When he turns after getting punch, he nearly runs into someone. He quickly steps back. “Oh, sorry!” He looks up into the shocked face of Tommy Hagan. He blinks. “Tommy?”

“Steve.”

Steve smiles. “How’ve you been?”

Tommy blinks, like he can’t believe Steve’s being nice to him right now, and that’s when Steve remembers they’d parted on not-so-nice terms. Oh well, he would’ve feigned politeness even if he’d remembered. “I’m good, yeah, uh, how- how’re you?”

“I’m good,” Steve agrees. “Really good. Last I remember you and Carol were dancing around each other, yeah? What happened there?”

“We got married,” Tommy nods.

“Congratulations!”

“And then divorced two years later,” Tommy adds, smirking. Steve winces. “How about you? Last I knew, it was you and Wheeler, ‘cept she cheated on you with Byers, yeah?”

“God,” Steve laughs, “that was so long ago. Yeah, that happened. We talked it through and Nance and I are really good friends now. She’s married to someone else, as am I, but we both keep in touch with Jon, thought he’s out in California now.”

Tommy’s brow raises. “Married? Who’s the lucky girl?”

A presence beside him makes Steve turn to see Eddie grinning at him. “My ears are burning.”

“They should be,” he laughs. “Tommy, you remember Eddie?”

“Munson,” Tommy nods, then does a double take. “Wait, you’re married?”

“As of three years ago now,” Eddie says proudly. “But together for…”

“Thirty-seven years,” Steve provides, smiling at his husband before turning back to Tommy. “Did you ever get remarried after Carol?” Tommy shakes his head.

Eddie whispers in Steve’s ear, “You know he totally had the hots for you, right?”

Steve winces at the blast of static from his hearing aid and quickly shuts it off. “Ow,” he mutters, grinning crookedly at Eddie, who looks apologetic. He quickly signs what he’d whispered, and Steve laughs. “Don’t you remember my initial panic?”

Eddie thinks, back to when Steve had asked him what’s gay versus friendly, becoming increasingly confused when most of the things Eddie ticked off in the gay category were things Steve and Tommy had done that Steve had thought firmly resided in the friendly category. “Oh, yeah.”

Steve snorts, shakes his head, pushes him away. “Go talk to someone else. Rescue Robin, she looks like she needs it.”

“Nah,” Eddie says, “she can hold her own,” but goes anyways after a quick peck to Steve’s cheek. Steve turns the hearing aid back on.

“Man,” Tommy says wonderingly, “what happened to you?”

“Concussions,” Steve answers flatly. “Three of ‘em. Then I grew up.” He sighs, looks down at his cup, then up at Tommy. “Listen, man, about what we used to do-”

Tommy winces. “I know. I had that revelation a while ago, actually, but it was definitely shitty of me.”

Steve smiles, shrugs. “You had a crush on me. It’s not an excuse, but it does make a certain kind of sense you’d react that way, especially considering the kind of home life you had.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Feel free to stop listening if the therapist side of me comes out. I swear I’m not trying to, like, diagnose you with anything.”

Tommy’s brows raise. “You’re a therapist?”

Steve hums affirmatively. “Started as a school counselor, if you can believe that.”

Tommy fixes him with a wondering grin. “Y’know? I think I can see it.”

“Do my eyes deceive me,” someone says from their side, draping their arms across Steve and Tommy’s shoulders, pulling them into a hug.

Steve comes face-to-face with Carol. He grins. “Hey, Carol.”

“Hey, you,” she says, raking her eyes over him. “Time’s been good to you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Steve says happily, but its true; she doesn’t look a day over forty, instead of the fifty-odd she is now. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” she agrees.

They go through the same song-and-dance, but this time when she asks who he’s married to, he sees Eddie juggling water bottles, talking to a couple of people. “Oh, for-” he mutters, then louder, “Eddie, what in the everloving fuck are you doing?”

Eddie drops a bottle, puts the other two on the table behind him, and jogs over to throw his weight onto Steve. “Making friends.”

Steve snorts, elbows him off. “Say hi to Carol, babe.”

Carol clocks it immediately, based on the twitch of her eyebrow, but only says, “I didn’t peg you two as a couple.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie snorts, “it was Bumfuck, Indiana in the 80’s.”

Carol tilts her head in agreement, then turns to Tommy and says coolly, “Tommy.”

“Carol,” he replies, tips of his ears red.

Eddie looks between them, then turns a raised eyebrow on Steve, who quickly signs, “Married for two years a while ago. I don’t know any details.”

“He clearly is still into her.”

“I refuse to be a part of whatever you’re planning.”

Eddie pouts. “You’re no fun.”

Carol clears her throat. “Sign language?”

Steve snorts. “Turns out brains aren’t supposed to get banged around. You’ve got a real good chance of messing something up that way.”

Eddie pokes his cheek. “‘S not your fault.”

“Never said it was,” Steve placates.

Carol shakes her head. “How many concussions do you have?”

Steve hums. “Three? Four?”

“Three,” Eddie corrects. “Not that we need to get into it right now.” He gives Carol a tight smile, and Steve hip-checks him.

“Down, boy,” he murmurs with a smile. “I’m alright.” He turns to Carol with a wider smile. “Long story short, the concussions caused irreparable hearing loss. I’m almost completely deaf in my left ear, but I get by.”

“Damn,” Carol says lightly, “life, huh?”

Steve snorts. “You can say that again.” He tilts his head. “How are you?” He asks. “Really?”

She gives him a crooked smile. “Let’s walk and talk.” Steve offers her his arm, which she takes with a laugh.

“How am I,” she muses. “Well I thought I found love, but we imploded two years later. Thank god for prenups, I guess, but at the same time, that made it feel like we were doomed from the start.”

Steve hums. “Eddie and I have been legally married for three years,” he tells her. “Together for thirty-seven. We’ve got prenups. Not because we think we won’t work, but because we want the people we care about to not have to worry about any of that.” He’s silent for a few steps. “I used to think love is out of our control. That we don’t get to decide who we fall for. And maybe, to a certain extent, that’s true. But love is also a choice you make every day. Eddie and I are still in love because we choose to be.”

“You look at each other like you’re on your honeymoon.”

Steve giggles. “And to think we didn’t even have a honeymoon!”

Carol laughs, too, then sobers. “You always were more fortunate in love,” she says. “What do you think? Do we have a chance?”

Steve hums. “I think it’s obvious, just by looking at him, that he’s still into you.”

“No shit.”

“So what’s important is how you feel. Marriage is work, I’m not gonna lie and say it’s not. So are you ready, and I mean really ready, to work for it?”

She works her lower lip. “I think so,” she admits. “But I- I’m also not completely sure I’m straight.”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs. “Do you know what he and I used to get up to?” He shrugs at her look. “I’m just saying, neither is he.”

“I mean, I definitely still like guys.”

“Well duh, you’ve taken more dick than I have and I’m married to a man.”

She snorts. “But women…”

“I know,” Steve says sympathetically. “It’s hard, isn’t it.” He pats her hand. “If you’re ready to try, though, you need to talk to him.” He turns her around, gestures toward Tommy, who quickly looks away, cheeks burning. They both laugh softly.

Carol leans up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Steve. Let’s keep in touch.”

“Let’s actually keep in touch,” he agrees, handing her his phone. “Where do you live?”

“Columbus for now, but he’s in Dayton.”

Steve hums. “We’re in Detroit.”

“We’ll do phone calls,” Carol decides, laughing.

Steve chuckles, saves her number. “Plan to meet up-”

“Never actually do-”

“Oh, Carol, it’s been so long-”

They both break off into giggles. “You’re fun,” she decides. “I wish we’d kept in touch.”

“To be fair, we competed for title of bitchiest.”

“To be fair, I don’t think we ever grew out of that,” Carol retorted, and Steve snorts, gently shoving her.

“Alright, go get your man, and send mine over here.”

She gently steps on his shoe as she leaves, impish smile in place, and Steve turns only to run into Nancy and Robin. “Hey, guys,” he smiles.

Nancy gives him a look. “Making nice with Carol?”

Steve shrugs, grins at her. “Turns out we were just kids. Who knew, right?”

Just then, Eddie comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “What’re we talking about?”

Nancy smiles at him, wraps an arm around Robin’s waist. “Being kids.”

“That so?” He presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek, pushes back to look at him. “You look lighter.”

Steve hums. “‘S cause I love you.”

“Charmer,” Eddie mutters, turning bright red. “C’mon, seriously.”

“Seriously,” Steve agrees. “I was talking with Carol about her and Tommy, and I told her that why we work is because we work at it.”

“Very true.”

From behind them, someone cautiously asks, “Eddie Munson?”

They both turn, and suddenly Eddie’s scooping her up in a hug. “Ronnie! What the hell are you doin’ here, huh?”

She laughs and hugs him back just as hard. “Did you ever know a Jackson Starnes?”

Eddie’s brow furrows for a second, then smooths out. “Oh, Jackie! Yeah, he was cool.”

“Mhm. He’s my husband.”

“No shit? I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” she laughs, then nods at everyone else. “Who’s the hunk you were hangin’ off of?”

Eddie chuckles. “Ronnie, meet my husband, Steve.”

She turns an eyebrow on him. “You got married?”

“He proposed,” Steve corrects her, grinning.

“To the preppiest of jocks,” Robin adds.

Eddie laughs. “What can I say? It’s love.” He swoons, placing a hand over his chest, almost pulling Ronnie over with the arm still over her shoulder.

She laughs and dumps him off of her. Steve swoops in before he can fall, hoisting him up with a quick kiss.

“I’m Nancy,” she says, extending her hand to Ronnie. “And this is my wife Robin.”

“Oh!” Eddie says, literally jumping back into the conversation. “Robin and Steve are like how we were.”

“Platonic soulmates,” Steve agrees.

“With a capital P,” Robin emphasizes.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Ronnie says.

“How’s Wayne?” She asks Eddie.

“Dead.” He snickers at her face. “‘S alright, Ronnie. It’s been years.”

“Still. I can be sorry.”

“You can,” he agrees. “It won’t help anything, but you can.” He digs his phone out of his pockets, opens his contacts app. “Here, lemme get your number, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ronnie says, “let’s hang out, just lemme know when so I can get a sitter.”

Eddie chokes on nothing. “You have a kid?”

Ronnie grins, a shit-eating thing as she hands his phone back. “Three.”

“Goddamn,” he says, “you got pictures?”

Ronnie rolls her eyes, grabs her phone. “What kind of mom would I be if I didn’t? Here, this is Cassie, Alex, and… that’s Elijah.”

“Oh, man, Alex looks just like Jackie, doesn’t he?”

“I carry him for nine months,” Ronnie bitches good-naturedly. “‘Nough about me, though, how’re you? Corroded Coffin ever take off?”

Eddie snorts. “You hear about the psychopath in ‘86?”

“I remember something about it.”

“Yeah. I got caught in the crossfires, wrongfully blamed, and spent…” he looks at Steve. “A year?”

“Almost.”

He turns back to Ronnie. “Almost a year hiding out. Corroded Coffin was officially disbanded after I was allowed out of hiding.”

“Fuck,” Ronnie says, “there goes my entire foot in my mouth, I guess. What’re you doing now, then?”

He chuckles. “A little bit of everything, honestly. A little music, a little writing, a little D&D. Nothing that’s made me a household name, but enough that I’m kept busy and we’re comfortable.”

Ronnie nods. “And how about you?” She asks Steve.

“Oh, nothing as fun as that,” Steve chuckles. “I’m a therapist.”

Ronnie tilts her head. “Any specialties?”

“C-PTSD, mainly.”

“Damn, I know about eight people who could use someone like you.”

Steve snorts. “That’s usually the way it goes, yeah.”

“Well it was great seeing you, Eddie,” Ronnie says. “And meeting all the rest of you. But I’ve got to find my husband and get back home, so we’ll have to continue this later.”

“Of course,” Steve says. “See you later?”

“Absolutely,” Ronnie nods, then turns and walks off.

They decide to leave not too much later. They’re all tired, so the drive to the hotel is filled with only the sound of the radio, turned almost all the way down.

“Y’know,” Eddie murmurs, tracing the ring on Steve’s finger, “she was my first kiss.”

Steve snorts, an explosive thing that he definitely learned from Robin. “She what?”

“Yup,” Eddie nods. “I knew I liked girls, but she’s the only one I got close enough to to actually know. We got stupid one night and decided to kiss and it basically went how it would if you and Robin were to kiss.”

“Ew,” Steve says on reflex. Eddie snorts.

Robin slaps at him from her seat, then yells when he slaps back, “Don’t distract the driver!”

“Bitch,” he tells her, “you slapped first!”

“You said ew about kissing me!”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Hell no!”

“That’s why I said it!”

Eddie leans up to murmur to Nancy, “should we break it up?”

“Eh, give it a minute. Once they resort to cursing their lineages we can break it up.”

He chuckles. “Always the wise one, Wheeler.”

“You’d best believe it,” she nods smugly.

“Nancy!” Robin says. “Baby! Defend me!”

“About kissing Steve? Who I’ve kissed before?”

“Oh, no,” Robin says, horrified. “I’m stuck in the car with the two people who are experts on Steve kissing.”

“Why’d you make it sound like a bad thing?” Steve demands.

And… yeah. Eddie’s glad they got separate hotel rooms.

Based on the look Nancy throws his way when they part, she’s glad, too.

[buskingalbatross]

results of a quest to identify the cicada in dnp’s rodent boy summer instagram post

[video: an audio comparison of dan howell's mediterranean cicada imitation and two real cicada species from the med]

abstract: following a perceived dearth of interest in the cicada latched onto the wall in one photo of the ten in dan and phil’s most recent joint vacation instagram post, the authors of this post (buskingalbatross and an anon who instigated this quest) have endeavored to determine its identity at the species level. using resources such as naturalism networking site iNaturalist, various scientific research articles, a databank of Mediterranean cicada song audio files, and Dan’s imitation of cicada screams in the AmazingPhil video “How Phil Nearly Died,” we have concluded that the cicada is most likely an East Aegean cicada (Cicada mordoganensis). obtaining these results would have been impossible had we not received assistance from @/bitchslapblastoids, who generously provided the herein unnamed geographical location* of dan and phil’s summer rat and relaxation destination. I would also like to thank @/pierogish for providing feedback on comparisons of cicada audio files with Dan’s cicada noises.

[image: the individual in question]

methods, results, and conclusions below the cut.

*the authors of this tumblr post would like to flaunt their scientific achievements unencumbered by potential discourses surrounding the unearthing of this location, and thus have chosen to omit its name from this post. the authors of this tumblr post nevertheless understand that the location can be discerned by those curious enough to discern it. the authors moreover state that they harbor no wish to compromise dan and phil’s privacy.  

methods and results

iNaturalist’s search feature was used to gain an awareness of what species of cicadas have been observed on the mediterrranean peninsula where dnp went on holiday. a spreadsheet was created to organize data such as cicada common names, scientific names, the number of observations for any given species, the reliability of those observations (that is, how likely the observer was to have correctly identified a cicada; a high quality identification is referred to on iNat as a research grade ID), the period of time in which a species is the densest in numbers (most prevalent in its aboveground habitat), appearance, and, finally, a link to an audio file containing each cicada species’ song. audio files were the last piece of data to be acquired, and so were added to the spreadsheet very last.

once a list of species had been determined and entered into the spreadsheet, we compared the appearences of each candidate cicada species to dnp’s instagram image. all in all, we looked at seven cicada species: the black sorrow cicada (Cicadatra atra), the ash cicada (Cicada orni), the common cicada (Lyristes plebejus), the red cicada (Cicada haematodes), the east aegean cicada (Cicada mordoganensis), the geminate cicada (Lyristes gemellus), and Cicada lodosi (a species name now possibly defunct but with 4 observations in the area of interest in the past five years).

[images: left - the east aegean cicada; right - the ash cicada]

then, I decided to read a truly excessive number of scientific research papers about cicadas in the mediterranean. why did I do this? besides reasons of entomology-associated passion (and legitimate professional interest), I did it because I learned that it turns out that basically, the aegean sea constitutes a “hot spot of cicada diversity,” with numerous species across different genera that nevertheless look—pretty much all the same! quite quickly, it became apparent that one blurry instagram image would be insufficient to determine the species. in fact, even if the image had been crystal clear, it wouldn’t have mattered. apparently, many cicadas of the eastern mediterranean are not morphologically distinct (meaning, again: some of them look identical) and what differentiates them is actually, primarily, their songs. they are “acoustically divergent,” with females being able to locate males of their own kind by their unique calls alone, not their looks. different species also tend to be distributed differently across this region, by which I mean some are only found on certain islands, or in certain areas of Italy, the Balkans, Greece, or Turkey, or Greece and Turkey, etc etc. I needed to read to form a better picture of all of this, essentially, and to gather clues.

[image: some of the papers I read]

after perusing all of this fascinating literature—and also squinting really hard at dnp’s picture and the photos of cicadas we had accumulated—I came to the conclusion that, most likely, the cicada was either Cicada orni, the ash cicada, or potentially more likely, Cicada mordoganensis, the east aegean cicada. both had three observations recorded in the region of interest (the most observations of any species), and both had the most similar coloration and patterning to dnp’s cicada. my predilection for the east aegean choice stemmed from two things: 1. the east aegean cicada observations were of a higher quality (research grade) than the ash cicada, and 2. the papers I had read were telling me that while east aegeans were prevalent along the entirety of the our region of interest, ash cicadas were more constrained, geographically, to northern Turkey and the Greek mainland. in fact, according to mediterranean cicada scientists, no ash cicadas had ever been found on islands as southeast as Samos and Ikaria, two islands relatively close to the peninsula where dnp’s cicada resides. this contradicted the observations on iNaturalist.

apparently, this difference in distribution has a lot to do with the tectonic and geographical history of the eastern mediterranean. where certain cicadas are today has a lot to do with where warm refuges from ancient glaciers existed thousands and millions of years ago (cicadas like the heat). also, and I should not necessarily subject you to this tangent, but did you know that about 5 million years ago the mediterranean sea simply gave up on existence for a little while? ... during the Messinian Salinity Crisis, the mediterranean simply stopped being a sea for a little while and almost dried up completely, allowing certain creatures that could not otherwise traverse an entire sea to disperse across it, except for where there is a huge ass canyon in the seafloor, and—

[images: highlighted, pertinent sections of papers discussing cicada distribution; relief map of the mediterranean seafloor]

anyway, what we were sorely missing at this stage were sound recordings of the cicadas. despite the evidence against the ash cicada, this cicada is still one of the most commonly found cicadas around the aegean sea. also, some of the studies I found were ten or more years old—who knows how climate change or other factors may have impacted the location of cicada populations since they were published.

while the audio of the cicadas outside in Phil’s video is poor, Dan does an imitation at 00:30 of what they’d been hearing during their trip. knowing Dan, this imitation is not merely a made-up, vaguely cicada-like noise, but an actually good approximation of the song that had been driving them crazy (this whole study mayhaps hinges on this lmao). if only we could uncover audio of these cicadas, maybe we could know for sure if this insect was of the ash or east aegean variety.

thankfully, at this point I was still reading papers. even more thankfully, the ten individuals who seemed to have cornered the market on mediterranean cicada studies since the 1970s made a website, and mentioned it in one of their papers. it is an exceptional, beautifully designed website called cicadasong.eu that evokes the ad-free, uncluttered, cozy and homemade feeling of the early noughties internet. it almost made me cry, and @/pierogish reported that seeing this website made her realize that in all these years recently spent online she had been choking, and only on cicadasong.eu was she finally able to breathe freely. on this website, there happen to be embedded YouTube videos of high quality audio recordings of all the european cicadas its creators have ever studied.

at last! comparisons of cicada songs to Dan commenced, and we were able to play the ash cicada’s sound alongside the east aegean’s and Dan’s. at the top of this post, you will find the compilation of these three sounds. here are the links to the original audio videos of the east aegean and ash cicada.

the main unit of sound—the chirp—of a cicada’s song is known scientifically as an “echeme”. in these audio files, you can perceive that, for the east aegean cicada, the duration of the echeme is longer, meaning the number of echemes per second is lower. this rhythm, and in general the structure of the east aegean cicada’s song was, in comparison to the ash cicada’s, deemed to the ear of all the authors and contributors definitively more similar to dan’s cicada song. thus, this final piece of evidence seemed to complement the rest of our data and confirm our initial assumption of the cicada’s identity.

conclusion

accumulated data has lent support to our hypothesis that the cicadas suffusing the atmosphere of dip and pip’s holiday resort with their ebullient, lascivious songs were east aegean cicadas.

[smileysuh]

Sunday Sinner

🌙 staring. Mark & Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in Church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

tw/cw. threesomes, inexperienced!Mark, fingering, blow jobs, deep throating, pussy eating, spit roasting, voyeurism, lots of masturbation (especially in the shower), Hyuck has a dirty mouth, sin sin sin, unprotected sex, creampies, cum play, kink for being 'full', religious contention, Mark gets hard during Sunday Service, Mark getting outed as low key virgin, proposition, Mark uses a cross necklace in sinful ways, praise, slight degradation, inklings of corruption kink, squirting, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel. (Mark's) church boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 12.6k

🍭 aus.frat/uni au, soccer player au, church/inexperienced!Mark, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've wanted to do a fic about Mark being Christain for a while, but I wanted to make one that was still respectful. This idea popped into my head, and I think it turned out really well :) it's only slight blasphemy.

There’s nothing like a frat party after a big win for the university soccer team. Even though Mark doesn’t really drink, and he’s never smoked a joint in his entire life, it’s nice to be surrounded by happy energy. 

His team always laughs at him when he notes how celebrations can feel almost church-like, but the indescribable buzz that fills the entire frat is familiar to the man who’s been going to Sunday Services his entire life. 

Mark likes seeing familiar faces, and if he hadn’t been raised in a very big family type of system, he’s not so sure he’d be this okay with crowds, or the number of people who reach out to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand in congratulations for scoring the winning goal.

It had been a great game, and when Mark’s ball had sunk into the top left corner of the net, he’d run to the side lines to fall to his knees and make the sign of the cross, grabbing at the religious pendant around his neck to kiss it. People have always made fun of him for this tradition of his, but nothing will ever stop him from thanking God - his God - for the fortune life has brought him.

Even now, the necklace is securely around his throat, the cross resting just below his shirt. The cool metal brushes by his skin when he moves through the frat house, a constant reminder of his faith. 

Something is drawing him outside, and Mark has always been someone who leans into the feelings he can’t put his finger on. It’s something like divine guidance, and Mark exits the frat to step onto the back patio, where his friends are in a circle around a fire. 

It smells like weed, something Mark hadn’t liked at first, but it’s now a scent he’s used to, and he heads over to stand next to his roommate. 

Lee Donghyuck and Mark have been friends since high school, where a few ‘less woke’ teachers had assumed - because of their shared last name - that two were cousins, or something of the sort. They’d always been put in group projects together. At first, Hyuck had been too much for Mark to handle, but over the years, he’s come to like the chaotic energy of his closest friend, despite all their differences, mainly, their disagreements on religion.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” Hyuck bellows, throwing his arm around Mark to pull him tight to his hoodie covered side, which reeks of marijuana. 

“Church boy Mark!” Yuta grins from across the circle, raising his beer in a mock toast to the man who had won them their soccer game. 

“Can he even be here?” a bitchy foreign exchange student from Thailand asks, earning a shove from Mark’s frat ‘big’ Johnny.

“Of course he can be here,” the man from Chicago laughs.

“I just mean-” Ten is quick to correct himself, “we’re playing Never Have I Ever. Are we sure this is suitable for him?”

“Mark plays games,” Hyuck insists, but Mark’s not so sure about this one. 

“He doesn’t even have a drink,” Ten notes, looking Mark up and down.

“Someone get him something,” Hyuck says, snapping his fingers at one of their pledges. “One of the iced tea mixes, the low percent ones-”

“Hyuck-” Mark sighs.

“Trust me,” Hyuck assures him, “you hardly do anything with your life, it’s not like you’ll have to drink that much.”

Mark still doesn’t feel too enthused about joining the game, but he supposes his heart led him out here for one reason or another, so he accepts the hard iced tea can Jisung hands him. His eyes immediately scan it for the alcohol content, and he sighs. “This is the same as beer.”

“Come on, church boy,” Hyuck groans. “You’ll only have like three sips, max. Watch-” without waiting for Mark to agree, Hyuck is addressing the circle again. “Never have I ever sucked cock.” 

The girls in the vicinity all make sounds of annoyance, raising their drinks to their lips. In the periphery, Yuta also sips his beer, and after a moment and a groan, so does Ten. 

“See!?” Hyuck squeezes Mark’s shoulder. “You’re already zero for one.”

“That was a low blow, Hyuck,” your voice draws Mark’s attention. You’re standing on the other side of his best friend, which shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, seeing as you’re Hyuck’s fuck buddy. 

Mark takes a moment to assess you while Hyuck rolls his eyes and defends himself. The church goer has always thought you were pretty, and you’re smart too, much too smart for the crazy gemini he has as a roommate. 

“Two can play that game,” you warn, raising your voice to announce, “Never have I ever eaten pussy.”

Mark’s skin prickles, panic washing over him as every man around the fire - and even a few girls - drink. The church boy can feel his grip on his can shaking slightly, and for a brief moment he considers having a swig of the hard iced tea just to protect himself, but, well… it would be a lie. And if there’s one thing Mark Lee doesn’t do, it’s lie. 

Mark can feel eyes on him as he downcasts his gaze to the ground. His skin is heating with embarrassment, and he just prays to God no one makes a big deal out of this-

“You’ve never eaten pussy?” Jeno yells, and Mark just knows the question is directed at him. 

He looks up, lips parting at the shock of being put on the spot. 

“Wait, you guys haven’t heard the church camp story?” Hyuck asks, and now Mark’s really panicking. But it’s too late to stop his loose lipped roomie, who is already diving into Mark’s past for the whole circle to hear. “This one time, he fucked a girl at church camp, and a Jesus picture fell off the wall, so he hasn’t even touched a girl since then.” 

A few people laugh, and while Mark can understand that - objectively - they’re not laughing at him, but at the story, he can’t help but get defensive.

“It fell off the wall, Hyuck,” Mark insists, voice shaking. “How else do you explain that?”

“I’ve always thought you were just banging that girl too hard,” Hyuck suggests, earning a few sounds of agreement from other frat boys. 

But Hyuck wasn’t there when it had happened, and Mark knows for a fact there was no true bed rocking going on. He’d been taking things slow, and the only possible explanation for the picture falling - in his mind at least - is that he’d disappointed God. 

He’d done a hundred Hail Mary’s as repentance, and now that his secret has been put out where everyone can hear, he thinks maybe he should do fifty more for good measure.

“I’ve gotta go,” Mark mumbles, handing Hyuck his drink.

Mark’s roommate tries to stop him from scurrying away, but the damage has been done, and the man who scored the winning goal at the soccer game rushes back into the frat house with red ears that betray his shame.

“You can’t still be mad at me,” Hyuck whines, chasing after you as you exit the frat bathroom.

“Why do you assume I’m mad at you?”

“Because I followed you to the toilet and you didn’t wanna smash?” Your fuck buddy manages to pin you to the wall, hands on either side of your head while he looks at you with serious eyes, a contrast to the sentence that’s just come out of his mouth.

“Sometimes a girl’s just gotta pee, Hyuck,” you laugh.

“Don’t play games, angel,” he insists. “You’re mad about the Mark thing.”

“So you admit I have something to be mad about.”

Hyuck lets out a sigh. “Fine, yes.” He pulls away from you, throwing up a hand in defeat. “I shouldn’t have told everyone his stupid Jesus picture story. There, I said I’m sorry, are you happy now?”

“You said what?”

He groans, and in one motion, he’s pinning you to the wall again, his lips just millimeters away from yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, and his eyes drill into your own, “I’m sorry.”

After a moment, you say softly, “I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”

“You want me to apologize to Mark?!” 

“Among other things.”

Hyuck pulls away, looking you up and down. “You better not be suggesting what I think your horny ass is suggesting.”

“I don’t know,” you smirk. “What do you think I’m thinking?”

“It looks like you’re thinking about going upstairs to offer Mark help with getting over his Jesus sex fear.”

“And that would upset you?” You cock your head to the side, assessing your fuck buddy.

“Angel,” he groans, “you’re mine.” 

“Am I though?” you counter. “Am I really?”

When you’d started sleeping with Hyuck, he’d made it clear that he’s not the kind of guy who likes to be tied down to one person. While he can be somewhat possessive, part of your arrangement is that you can both do what you want, and right now, you’re seriously considering fucking the sweet church boy you’ve had a slight infatuation with since year one.

“Fuck the fact that you’re not my girlfriend,” Hyuck says finally. “There are bigger reasons you shouldn’t do this.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well for one,” your fuck buddy leans in, his lips ghosting by your ear as he whispers, “Mark has a massive crush on you.”

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. Leave it to Hyuck to spill two of Mark’s biggest secrets in the span of one hour. 

“If Mark has a crush on me, then I have to do this. You can either join us, or go cry about it.”

Hyuck sighs. “For an angel, you can be a bit of a fucking demon sometimes.”

“And you love it.” 

You and Hyuck are standing outside his bedroom. The door is locked when you try to open it, and Hyuck watches you let out a deep sigh before knocking. “Mark? You in there?”

“Of course he’s in there,” Hyuck whispers, rolling his eyes.

“Shh! Be nice!” you chastise him, playfully smacking his arm. Your voice is soft when you call out again, knocking gently a few more times. “Mark? Please let me in.”

The music from downstairs is too loud for Hyuck to hear movement in his room, but after a few moments, the door opens and Mark peers out.

“Oh, it’s both of you.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Mark,” Hyuck nearly laughs, placing his palm on the wood so he can force it open before his friend tries to shut the door again. “I live here too, you know.”

“How could I forget,” Mark sighs, heading over to flop onto his bed.

You and Hyuck enter the room, and he clicks the lock back into place behind him. He watches you approach his friend, sitting on the foot of the mattress. 

When you reach out, ghosting your hand over Mark’s shin, Hyuck leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t define himself as a jealous type of guy, but watching you be gentle with Mark is definitely bringing up some suppressed emotions, and Hyuck’s not sure what to make of it.

“Mark,” you stroke his leg. “Hyuck has something to say to you.”

“Huh?!” Hyuck’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and his roommate. 

You’re going to make him proposition his friend for you? 

“Yeah, didn’t you tell me you wanted to apologize?” There’s a warning tone in your voice, and when you look over your shoulder at Hyuck, you give him an expression filled with expectation.

“Right,” Hyuck coughs. “I uh… I’m sorry for what happened at the fire.”

He can tell by your small eye roll that you’re not fully satisfied with his apology, but Mark doesn’t seem to mind. The church boy sighs, running a hand over his face. “It’s okay,” he mumbles.

“It’s not okay,” you insist, turning your gaze back to Mark. “I’m also sorry for saying never have I ever eaten pussy. I was trying to attack Hyuck and make him drink, but you got caught in the crossfire.” 

“You didn’t mean to, though,” Mark says. “I shouldn’t have joined the game. This is a lesson for me, I guess.”

“Aw, Mark,” Hyuck can’t see your face, but he knows you’re frowning. “We wanted you to join the game. We like it when you do things with us.” 

It’s interesting for Hyuck to hear you saying the royal ‘we,’ as if you’re a couple, a unit. 

“I’m sure the incident with the Jesus picture was very traumatizing for you,” you continue, sounding as genuine as ever while your hand continues to smooth up and down Mark’s leg. “I can understand why you’d be… apprehensive about doing anything sexual after that.”

Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. Hyuck can’t help but smile when he sees his friend’s ears flaring red with embarrassment, it’s always so easy to get the church boy riled up.

“I just want you to know…” you shift a little where you’re seated, moving closer to Hyuck’s roommate, “this is a safe space. If you ever wanted to… try something like that again, there aren’t any Jesus pictures here to knock down.”

“What?” Mark’s lips part with shock, and he looks between you and Hyuck. “Are you two…”

“Propositioning you?” Hyuck suggests. “Yeah, she is.” 

“I’m not-” Mark swallows thickly. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” you assure him. 

“She wants to fuck you, Mark,” Hyuck says, trying to be helpful. “It will be good for you.”

“Good for me?” Mark squeaks.

“You’re a frat boy who’s practically a virgin, dude,” Hyuck nearly laughs. “You’ve gotta dip your dick in the sinful water sometime. What’s life without eating a little pussy?”

“Oh my god,” Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. 

“It’s not that bad, Jesus won’t mind, you don’t even have to put your dick in her!” Hyuck can’t believe he’s the one backing this now, but he also can’t really believe his roommate is a near-virgin. 

“This can’t be happening-” Mark is still hiding his face, his ears as scarlet as ever.

“Listen, “ Hyuck sighs, “we usually fuck while you’re at church on Sundays. But if you wanted, we could wait a little and let you join after your service tomorrow.”

Mark’s eyes widen. “After my service? Are you two crazy?” 

“You don’t have to decide right now,” you assure him. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in, especially after the day you had. I don’t think I’ve congratulated you on your goal in the game today yet-”

Hyuck scoffs at how you could be bringing that up right now.

“Just think about it,” you continue, giving Mark’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to go home now, but, tomorrow, if you want to try eating pussy, Hyuck and I will be here.”

Hyuck wonders what would happen if it was just you propositioning Mark. If he’d be more willing to agree. It’s definitely an added level of sin to have Hyuck in the room while Mark rips his virgin bandaid off, but it’s not like Hyuck’s going to leave Mark alone with you.

You’re his angel, even if you’re looking to save Mark.

Mark can’t pay attention to the sermon. His palms are sweaty, no matter how many times he rubs them against his pants. He feels like - at any moment - a big Jesus statue could just fall over and everyone in the church would turn to him, knowing he was the cause due to his sinful thoughts.

What makes it worse, is the way he can feel blood rushing to his cock. He’s half hard at the Sunday service, and he’s never felt like a worse Christain. 

This experience definitely trumps the losing of his virginity, if that’s even possible, and he hasn’t even done anything with you yet.

But in the dark, back corners of his mind, Mark knows that will change. He knows he won’t be able to resist you, you’re just too tempting. He doesn’t have that kind of control over himself, no matter how much he wishes he did.

When the service is over, Mark stands on shaky legs, grabbing a Bible to hold in front of his crotch while he exits the place of worship to head back to the frat. 

The fresh air does little to calm his nerves. If anything, the closer he gets to his home, the more sinful he feels. He knows each step is one step closer to you, one step closer to religious paraphenia being miraculously moved by the hand of God- 

Yet, he can’t stop. He can’t even alter his course, and when he reaches the frat, he doesn’t say one word to the boys kicking around in the kitchen, he heads straight up to his room. 

When he gets to his door, Mark pauses. His hands are shaky as he reaches for the knob, and for a second, he wonders if he should knock. Taking a deep breath, Mark decides to ignore his manners, pushing into the room.

He’s almost relieved to find you and Hyuck sitting in his bed, fully clothed, watching something on Netflix. 

“Hiya, Mark,” Hyuck waves, as if their relationship isn’t about to be completely altered.

“How was Sunday service?” you ask.

“How was it?” Mark shuts the door behind himself, giving his head a little shake as he hurries over to the closet to discard his jacket. “You know, good.”

“Why are you carrying a Bible?” Hyuck asks, looking him up and down. “Did you steal that from your church?”

Panic shoots through Mark. He had most definitely accidentally stolen it from his church, wihtout giving it a second thought. His mind had been so focused on you and covering his boner- 

“I can give it back,” Mark insists, palms sweating again as he places the book gently on top of his backpack. 

“You look spooked, dude. Did some pastor try to touch you?” 

“Hyuck!” you practically scream, slapping your hand over your fuck buddy’s mouth. “You can’t say things like that!”

Hyuck mumbles something against your hand that sounds like ‘historically accurate,’ and Mark wants to strangle him. 

“You want to know why I look stressed?” Mark sighs. “Because you two are sinners who propositioned me last night!”

Hyuck moves your hand from his mouth, smirking. “Come on, Mark, be sinners with us!”

“This is not helping,” you whisper to your fuck buddy, gently pushing his shoulder before you stand from the bed, approaching Mark with an empathetic expression. “I’m sorry about last night, we shouldn’t have pushed that on you.”

“It’s okay,” Mark shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze.

“It’s not, we’re horrible, dirty, sinful people,” you reach out, linking your pinkie with Mark’s. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. “Forget we ever said anything.”

“I can’t forget,” Mark states, finally looking at you. He licks his lips, thinking of something else to say, but all that comes out is “I can’t forget,” and it’s the truth. 

You open your mouth, and Mark hangs on what your next words will be-

Hyuck interrupts the moment. “So are you gonna eat pussy or what?”

“Hyuck!” you yell, turning to flash a warning glare at the man who’s giggling to himself on his bed. 

Mark doesn’t even want to focus on his friend right now. Instead, he reaches out, taking your other hand gently. He gazes down at your fingers, too scared to look at your face. 

“I think…” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “I think we should do this.”

“Really?” you ask while Hyuck lets out a loud “What?!”

“You’re both right… maybe it will be good for me.” Mark can’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “But- I’m not sure what I’m even ready for.”

“We can go slow,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. “Anything you’re comfortable with.”

Mark looks up at you. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Hyuck scoffs loudly, but it’s an afterthought in Mark’s mind when you nod, reaching up to cup his face. “You can kiss me,” you tell him softly. 

Mark’s free hand reaches out to grab your waist, and he moves closer. He can feel your breath on his face. He’s never been this up close and personal with you, and you’ve never been prettier. There’s a softness in your expression, an acceptance, and it makes Mark feel confident enough to press his lips to yours.

It’s a gentle kiss - a perfect kiss - and Mark can feel the tension releasing in his shoulders. 

You step even closer, and your breasts press against his chest, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your tongue smooths over his bottom lip and Mark stifles a groan, opening his mouth just enough for his own tongue to meet yours. 

He can count the number of girls he’s kissed during his life on one hand, including you, but none of them have happened like this. Mark had never imagined he’d end up in this situation before, and despite the calming effect you have on him, he still finds himself pulling away and struggling to catch his breath.

“I want to touch you,” he admits, in fact, he’s been thinking about it all day. 

“Yeah?” There’s a sparkle in your eye and you smile at him. “Where?”

Mark can’t bring himself to say it.

You gently take his hand, bringing it to your throat. “Here?” you ask, and Mark traces his thumb over your jugular, surprised to find your heart is racing just as fast as his own. “Or…” you move his hand down, his palm cupping at your breast, “Here?” 

Mark lets out a low groan at the feeling of you. He’s touched even less boobs than he’s kissed girls in his life, and yours are absolutely perfect in his hand. 

“Mark,” you whimper, and he brushes his fingers over your pebbled nipple, peaking through your shirt. He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, and he shifts uncomfortably. 

“Or maybe…” you move his hand lower, dragging it across your stomach until it reaches your pussy through your sweatpants, “were you thinking of touching me here?” 

He nods, still unable to speak as you guide him to apply more pressure to your core. You feel so warm, and a sinful voice in the back of his mind tells him you’re probably wet too. Or at least, he hopes you’re wet, hopes he has the same effect on you that you have on him.

You let out a soft moan, and it’s like music to his ears. You grind down slightly on his hand, wiggling your hips in a motion that’s hypnotizing. “Do you want to…” you bite at your lip, toying with the waistband of your sweats. “Do you want to put your hand inside?”

“God, yes,” Mark groans, finally finding his voice.

You pull the waistband away from your skin, giving Mark access to slip his hand below it. Then your lips find his again, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he teases his fingers along your panty clad core.

You’re as wet as he’d hoped you would be, and Mark moans at the realization. 

He’s only watched porn a handful of times in his life, and always felt bad about it after, but he knows where the clit is, and he gently circles his fingers around the spot.

You gasp into his mouth, and Mark eats up the sound, applying more pressure.

“Fuck, Mark, just like that-” you tell him, threading your fingers through his hair as you deepen the kiss.

You rut your hips, grinding down on his hand, and it drives Mark wild. He wants to touch you, really touch you, without any fabric in the way, and when he opens his mouth to ask, “Can I-” you’re agreeing without even hearing the end of the sentence.

He takes a breath, and then he moves your panties to the side. 

The first swipe of his fingers through your pussy lips feels like nothing he’s ever felt before, and the wetness he collects against his skin makes his cock throb again.

He teases your opening, earning more gasps from you as your lips move to his neck. When your mouth makes contact on a spot just below his ear, a shiver runs through Mark’s entire body. He’s heard about sweet spots, but no one has ever kissed his, and the feeling has his eyes closing with pleasure.

Without a second though, Mark slides a finger into your pussy, and you mewl in his ear, holding him tighter. “So good,” you whisper as he slowly thrusts the digit in and out of you, building the confidence to add another. 

You're grinding down against him still, and his palm works your clit while his two fingers curl inside of you. The sounds you’re making are increasing in pitch and frequency, and you’re gently pulling on his hair, licking at the spot on his neck that has his body tingling. 

He’s never made a girl cum before, but he can tell by the way you’re reacting, that he’s going to get you there. He wants to get you there, more than he’s wanted any goal he’s ever scored in a soccer game. 

The cool weight of the cross around his neck has Mark wondering if he’s going to go to hell for this. But can he really go to hell for something that feels this good? This right?

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Don’t stop.” 

Mark works his fingers into you even faster, eager to have you coming undone on his hand-

A clinking sound in the periphery makes Mark’s eyes open, and when he looks over at Hyuck’s bed, he sees his friend wiggling out of his pants.

“Dude, what the Hell-” Mark freezes, making an attempt to pull his hand from your pants, but you latch onto his wrist, shaking your head.

“No, Mark, please, I’m so close, please-” There’s a look of desperation in your eye, and it has him swallowing thickly, focusing on you while he picks up his motions again.

“I’ll wait,” Hyuck says in the background, and there’s some comfort in that at least.

“Mark, it feels so good, you’re so good at this-” you praise him, whispering in his ear while you work your hips faster against his hand.

“Oh God-” Mark groans, watching your face contort with pleasure. 

“There’s no God here, dude,” comes Hyuck’s snarky voice.

Mark’s eyes begin to shift to his friend, but you cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Focus on me,” you tell him. “Like I’m focused on you.” 

He swallows thickly, breathing deeply as he fingers you harder, earning all sorts of sinful moans that drown out anything Hyuck could ever bring to the situation.

“Yes, Mark, yes- I’m gonna-” You’re gasping now, and you can’t even finish your sentence. Your pussy clenches around Mark’s fingers, your lips finding his as you cum. 

He continues his motions, wanting to draw out every second of pleasure that he can-

Mark has heard all sorts of ideas about what Heaven could look like, but he’s never heard that Heaven could be standing in your frat house room, hand down your best friend’s fuck buddy’s pants, with her pussy throbbing around your fingers. 

You begin to shake, reaching down to grab at his forearm, and Mark knows you’re finished. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and he pulls his hand away, marveling at the slick that’s covering his digits.

“Here,” you say gently, grabbing his wrist to guide his fingers to your mouth, licking them clean. Then you reach for him, bringing your mouth close to his own. “Taste me.”

Mark’s never kissed a girl so fast in his life, and he groans at the flavour of your tongue. If this is what your pussy tastes like, Mark had missed out by passing up the opportunity to eat you out, but at the same time, he’s really not sure if he’s ready for that yet.

“Okay, you two,” Hyuck’s voice makes Mark draw back from you. “This is enough teasing, I’ve gotta fuck something now or I’m gonna explode. Mark, are you staying?”

The church boy swallows thickly and then he shakes his head. If he’s not ready to eat you out, he’s definitely not ready to watch his best friend fuck you. “I’ve gotta…” he stumbles for an excuse. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Right, shower,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “Have fun with that.”

You go in for one last kiss before Hyuck is pulling you away from Mark, and he watches for just a moment while Hyuck presses his own mouth against yours-

Mark tears his eyes away, reaching for a towel in his closet before escaping the room.

The towel covers his boner while he runs down the hallway to the bathroom, and he strips himself naked in record time, stepping into a shower stall.

His hand is around his throbbing cock not two seconds later, and Mark throws his head back, closing his eyes while his brain struggles to process everything that’s just transpired. 

It doesn’t take long for him to work himself to the edge. His toes curl against the vinyl floor, and his vision goes practically black as he cums. 

There’s no time to aim, and Mark feels sticky warm fluid coat his chest, but his hand doesn’t stop. He jacks himself off until he’s a nearly overstimulated, gasping mess, and he thanks God for the water cleaning his body of the sinful filth.

He’s never cum this hard in his entire life.

You’re at your usual Wednesday lunch with the girls before class when you notice one of your friend’s looking at something over your shoulder. She’s done this a few times now, but when you turn in your seat to assess the room, you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you looking at someone?” you question.

“It’s just…” Hyuna leans forward. “Did you do something to Mark?”

“What?” you look behind you again, thoroughly confused.

“Every time you turn, he pulls his baseball cap down,” she explains. “He’s over there, by the window. Green cap.”

When you scan the area again, you do notice a pair of cute red ears sticking out from a baseball cap, the guy’s head downcast as if he’s just staring at his french fries.

“How many times has he looked over here?” you ask, grinning.

“Like, a lot.” Hyuna cocks her head. “You did do something to Mark.”

You stand up, leaning forward. “Actually, he did something to me.” With a wink to your girls, you turn to head off toward Mark’s table.

He looks up once during your approach, and you see him scrambling with his bag. It would be very entertaining to watch him run away from you again, but he doesn’t have the chance, as you arrive before he’s done shoving papers into his binder. 

“Hey, you.” You take the seat across from him. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” His voice is shaky, and you find it adorable. 

“You know…” you reach your foot out under the table, grazing it by his calf. “I can’t get you out of my head either.”

Mark coughs, adjusting the cap on his head. “What?” 

“I said, I can’t get you out of my head either.” You’re enjoying the effect you have on him, and you’re very aware of how public the space is. You don’t think Mark’s going to confirm that he’s been thinking about you, so instead, you ask, “Are you planning to go to church on Sunday?”

“Yeah, of course,” he swallows thickly. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to pay attention while you’re there?” 

“I uh, I-” Mark stutters over his words. “I think so?”

You study the pretty virginal frat boy. As soft as you’ve been with him so far, you feel like teasing him, just to see how he reacts. “Just so you know, if, while you’re at Sunday service, a Jesus picture falls down, it’s because Jesus knows what you did.”

Mark lets out a groan, and you see his neck has turned red now too. “I-” Mark’s gaze dips down to your breasts, which are pushed together in your low neckline shirt as you lean forward. “I have to go-” he grabs his things, fumbling with all of them while he stands abruptly. 

The loud sound of his chair scraping across the ground draws a few eyes, and the pool boy nearly knocks the table over in his haste. You notice the way he immediately holds his binder over his crotch, and you lick your lips while looking up at him.

“See you later,” he mumbles, running away.

You watch him enter the men’s bathroom, and you think you can imagine what he’s going in there to do. Last time he’d run away from you, Hyuck had mentioned he was probably going to jack off in the showers.

The frat bathroom is one thing for a quick wank, but a public restroom is another.

You shake your head, walking back to your girls table, Mark’s tray of fries in your hand. They’re all gawking at you. 

“Damn,” Hyuna whistles. “I know you just said he did things to you, but girl, you definitely did a number on that church boy.” 

There’s nothing Hyuck loves more in the world than making you cum on his cock. He loves the noises you make, gripping at his bed sheets as your orgasm overtakes you. He loves being the source of your high.

What he doesn’t love however, is the way that today, you immediately ask, “How’s Mark doing?” as Hyuck pulls out of you.

He can’t help but laugh slightly, shaking his head at you. “Been acting weird all week.” 

“Do you think he’s going to join us tomorrow after church? I’m kind of shocked he wasn’t here today, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that why you came over? Wanted to see your precious little Mark?” Hyuck lands a smack to your inner thigh that has you giggling. “And yeah. He’ll probably join tomorrow. Jeno says he’s walked in on Mark jacking off in the shower like, four times this week. It’s actually starting to be a bit of a problem.”

“Is frat boys jacking off in the shower not a common occurrence around here?”

“It is, but not when it’s Mark,” Hyuck laughs. “That guy needs to get fucked.”

“I’m not sure he’s ready for that yet.” 

Hyuck studies you. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Well, maybe he just needs to cum properly.”

You sit up, teasing your hands over Hyuck’s thighs. “Tell me, how does a guy ‘cum properly.’”

“Buried inside something nice, and wet, and warm,” Hyuck reaches out to grasp your chin. “Your mouth would work.”

You laugh at the idea, “Maybe if he lets me,” and Hyuck grins, getting off the bed to pull on his pants. 

“I’m gonna head to the kitchen for water, need anything?”

“Just you,” you tease. “Hurry back.”

“You got it, angel,” Hyuck winks at you before heading to the door. He pulls on his shirt as he exits the room, but just when he gets his head through the neck hole, he catches a quick glimpse of one mister Mark Lee rushing into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Had Mark been listening this whole time? Had he been outside of the door, listening to Hyuck fuck you? 

The thought makes Hyuck laugh again, and his ego triples in size. There’s something very… intriguing about this whole situation with the frat’s ‘designated’ virginal church boy, even if this experience is making Hyuck rethink his ideas of commitment. 

If the last Sunday service had been torture, today might just be Hell for Mark. 

He’s sweating, shaking even, his knee bobbing up and down anxiously while he sits in the back row. 

He’d returned the Bible he’d stolen last time, but he fears that he might end up taking it again. Every time he thinks about you, thinks about what it felt like to have his hand down your pants while you sucked on his neck- 

No, he can’t think about it. He can’t-

But it’s too late, he feels his cock growing in his pants, and shame washes over him. He runs a hand through his hair, fanning himself and taking deep breaths. 

It’s not ten minutes into the hour long service, and already, he’s at his breaking point. 

Mark battles with himself for another two minutes, and he finally gives up. When everyone stands to sing, he quietly excuses himself from the back row, ducking out of the church without looking back. 

“Mark?” you sit up hastily from Hyuck’s embrace, blinking at the boy who’s just entered the room. “You’re back from church early!”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sit through it,” Mark mumbles, throwing his jacket in the closet before collapsing on his bed, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s unlike you,” Hyuck sits up next to you. “Are you sick or something?”

“Definitely sick in the head,” Mark groans. 

“Enjoying sex doesn’t make you bad,” you tell him. “Besides, we haven’t even fucked yet.”

Mark sighs. “Yet.”

“So you were thinking about her fucking you while you were in church,” Hyuck grins next to you. “That’s sinful, Mark.”

“I know!” Mark flops onto his stomach, shoving his face against his pillow.

You look at Hyuck, and he makes a face, motioning to his friend. ‘Say something’ he mouths.

‘No, you say something!’ you mouth back.  

Instead, Hyuck simply pushes you out of his bed, and you stumble onto your feet. 

“Mark…” you approach the sulking churchboy. “I know a few things that could cheer you up.” 

Mark groans, but he sits up all the same, looking at you with eyes that tell you he wants you to elaborate.

“I was thinking…” you swallow, choosing your words. “Based on your history, it sounds like maybe you’ve never had someone go down on you before-”

“Fuck, she’s so good with her mouth,” Hyuck quips. 

“I know this whole thing started with you not eating pussy, but, seeing as you made me cum last week with your fingers, I thought I could return the favour somehow.” 

Mark’s lips part, and he allows you to take his hands, pulling him to be standing in front of you. 

“What do you say Mark?” You lean forward, your lips almost touching. “Can I suck you off? Pretty please?”

Instead of answering, he kisses you, cupping the back of your neck. 

Your first kiss with Mark had been slow and gentle, but there’s a new fire in him now, and it’s only a moment before his tongue is gliding past your lower lip, begging for entrance. You release a groan, reaching down to loop your fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling him tighter to your body.

You can feel that he’s already hard, and you love how easy it is to turn him on. You love the way he’s already becoming more explorative in the way he interacts with you, his hand steady on the back of your neck, insistent that you stay lip locked. 

For a guy who doesn’t kiss girls much, he’s a phenomenal kisser. There’s emotion in it, and he tastes like spearmint. 

You get lost in the feeling of him, but after only a little while, you’re aching to touch him properly. Your hand slips down, cupping him through his pants. The church boy shivers at the contact, and you squeeze him. It’s the first time you’ve really touched his cock, and you bet he’s already aching-

He releases the back of your neck, and you take it as a sign to begin kissing down his body. You start at his throat, licking the sensitive spot that has him grabbing your hips and releasing a moan. He makes such pretty sounds-

You continue rubbing his cock, but when your mouth gets to his collarbone, you grab at his shirt. “Can this come off?”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbles, releasing you so he can unbutton the nice church shirt he’s wearing. 

When he discards the fabric, revealing his body to you, you simply enjoy it for a moment. 

Mark and Hyuck both have such wonderful bodies. Sure, some of your friends make good arguments about the muscled forms of Jaehyun, Johnny and Jeno, but you prefer Mark’s understated physique. 

He’s a soccer player, and his body is perfectly athletic without being too much to handle.

Your kisses begin to descend, and you find yourself pausing at the cross necklace. You lean forward and press your lips to it softly. Mark lets out a shaky breath. 

You know he’s watching you, and this is your way of showing him you still respect his religion, despite persuading him to partake in the more ‘sinful’ side of life.

“Wait,” Mark says, and he lets go of you to reach behind his neck, fumbling with the clasp. You watch him with curiosity as he removes the cross, holding it gently and placing it onto his bedside table.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him without the gold chain around his throat, and you wonder what the removal of it could mean, but you try not to think too hard about it.

You sink to your knees on the floor, undoing his belt and looking up at Mark. If he doesn’t want this, he can stop you, and you give him more than enough time to make that decision. But Mark only watches you, breathing heavily as you undo the button, then the zipper-

“You want this?” you ask, hooking your fingers in his pants and briefs.

He nods. “I want you.”

You smile, tugging the fabrics down so they pool at his feet. 

“You have such a pretty cock,” you whisper, grabbing the base and swiping your thumb across the leaking tip. You notice the way Mark’s chest and neck flush pink, as if he’s embarrassed by your words, but you know that praise is good for Mark. 

You press a kiss to the head of his cock, suckling a little while Mark moans above you. 

It looks like he’s not sure where to place his hands, so you reach for one, placing it on your cheek while you take more of him into your mouth. 

“God-” Mark whispers.

“She feels good, right?” Hyuck asks.

“Yeah,” Mark nods. “Really good.”

Having them both give you praise has your pussy throbbing, and it encourages you to sink further down onto his cock, sucking harder-

“Shit-” Mark nearly whimpers, and you think this might be the first time you’ve heard him swear. 

You know it’s wrong, and bad, and dirty, and sinful- but there’s something about corrupting Mark that has you going insane. You bob up and down on his cock, stroking the base that you can’t reach with your mouth. 

“This is too hot,” Hyuck says. “I’ve gotta join.”

“How-” Mark begins to ask, but a second later, hands are pulling you off of Mark’s cock.

“Both of you, on the bed,” Hyuck instructs. “You’ve heard of spit roasting, right, Mark?”

“I-” the church boy’s skin is flushed again, and when you hop up on the bed, he follows, clamoring after you. 

“Look, you’ll have her mouth,” Hyuck gets on the mattress behind you, and you hear him undoing his belt, “and I’ll have her perfect pussy. It’s a win, win.”

Mark doesn’t argue, his eyes moving down to meet yours as you take his dick back into your mouth, picking up where you’d left off.

Hyuck, meanwhile, tears your pants down, and a moment later his fingers are gliding through your pussy. “Fuck, angel, you’re soaked. Sucking Mark’s cock really turns you on, huh?”

You groan a sound of affirmation around Mark, and his hand is quick to grab your head again, fingers flexing in your hair. 

“You can fuck her face if you want,” Hyuck suggests, working two fingers into you easily. “She loves getter her throat fucked-”

Mark’s hips twitch at the words, but he doesn’t follow through. You think maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, and it’s an endearing idea.

Hyuck pulls his digits from your core, and they’re replaced with the head of his cock, which he rubs the length of your pussy, teasing your clit before pushing into you.

Your fuck buddy lets out a loud groan, his hands finding your hips as he sinks his length fully into your core. 

“Dude,” Hyuck breathes, “her pussy is literally Heaven-”

His first thrust sends you further onto Mark’s cock, and the man above you gasps when he hits the back of your throat. 

“Is fucking pussy going against God?” Hyuck asks, in an almost rhetoric manner. “Isn’t there some weird church loophole where anal doesn’t count? Her ass is great too, scout’s honor.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure Mark’s not even listening to Hyuck. He’s much too focused on your lips wrapped around him, and the sounds slipping out of him make you think maybe he’s close to the edge.

All things considered - for a guy who’s never been blown - Mark’s lasting remarkably well, but you don’t want him to last. You want him to cum, like he deserves to cum. 

When you suck harder, you feel Mark’s cock twitch, and he lets out a groan. “Shit, I’m gonna-”

“Cum in her mouth,” Hyuck states, pace getting rougher inside of you. “Do it. She’s a good girl. She’ll swallow. Fuck, it’s so hot when she swallows.” 

Mark moans, and he pushes his hips forward, sending his cock into the back of your throat. Your gag reflex is the thing that makes him cum, and an “Oh my God!” leaves his lips as he explodes down your throat.

Hyuck’s right, you are a good girl, and you swallow every drop, working Mark through his orgasm until he’s gasping. He pulls out of your mouth, and Hyuck takes the opportunity to fuck you even harder.

Now that you can moan freely, you fill the room with sounds of your own pleasure. When Mark gets off the bed, you fall onto your face, turning to press your cheek to the mattress while you watch Mark find his pants on the floor. 

His eyes meet yours, and you can see his pupils are blown. It’s so incredibly sexy to have Hyuck fucking you on Mark’s bed while Mark watches, and your pussy throbs around Hyuck’s cock. 

“Fuck, you just got so tight, angel,” Hyuck groans, fingers digging into your waist while his hips buck wildly. “Shit, I’m not going to last like this-”

You reach a shaky hand under your body, finding your clit, and it only makes your pussy clamp down harder on your fuck buddy, who releases another loud moan. 

“You close, angel? Sucking off Mark must have really got you going-” 

“I’m close,” you confirm, grabbing at the bedsheet with your free hand while your fingers continue on your clit. 

“Yeah, you are,” Hyuck growls. “That’s my good girl, my perfect angel. I want you to cum so bad, it’ll tip me over the edge- Fuck! I’m gonna fill you up so good, so fucking good-”

You love it when Hyuck talks dirty like this, and you gasp as you get closer and closer to your high-

“Come on,” Hyuck lands a smack to your ass, and the pained pleasure has you crying out, rubbing your clit harder. “Cum for me,” he commands.

It’s all you need to reach the edge, and you fall over it with a loud moan, forcing your eyes to stay open while you stare at Mark, who watches you with parted lips and a dazed expression.

“That’s it, that’s it-” Hyuck grunts, pace faltering as he cums too, fulfilling his promise of filling you up just the way you like it. He fucks you through your highs, and your hand falls from your clit to the bed, body on the cusp of overstimulation as Hyuck’s motions begin to slow.

As things come to a stop, Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Mark, come over here, you’ve gotta see this.”

“I don’t want to look at your dick,” comes Mark’s quick retort.

“Then don’t look at my dick, look at her pussy with my cum dripping out of it. Trust me, it’s so fucking hot-” Hyuck pulls out of you, and you whine at the loss.

You watch Mark go around the side of the bed, and you can feel both of their eyes on your hole, which is already beginning to drip Hyuck’s cum-

You place a hand under your core, not wanting to get any of this on Mark’s bed, and Hyuck laughs loudly. 

“Aren’t you two worried about pregnancy?” Mark asks.

“That’s what birth control is for,” Hyuck says. “Cumming inside feels like nothing else in the whole world.”

“What about STI’s?”

“Well, I mean…” Hyuck gets off the bed, and you watch him grab a tissue from his desk, “we’re only really fucking each other and we’re both clean so…”

“Wait, you two only sleep with each other?” Mark sounds justifiably confused. “So… why aren’t you two… why aren’t you two dating?”

It’s a very good question, and from the way Hyuck brushes it off with a ‘you know’ and a topic change, it feels as if neither of you really have a good answer. “Anyways, you have to try this sometime,” Hyuck says again. “Next Sunday.” 

Mark sighs. “Can’t we do this on any day but Sunday?”

“Where would be the fun in that, church bitch?”

You let out a groan of annoyance, but you think you’re starting to understand this is just the way their relationship is. 

Getting through a full week while being on the same campus as you is starting to feel like Mark’s own personal Hell. Every time he so much as catches a glimpse of you running between classes, blood rushes to his cock. 

Hell, even at soccer practice with Hyuck, every time Mark looks at his forward position roommate, all he can think about is the visual of Hyuck fucking you from behind on his own bed. 

By Friday, he’s too pent up to even attend his last class, and he rushes back to the frat to get some shower time.

He’s becoming much too used to jacking off in the shower, but he really can’t help himself. 

Mark feels like an absolute sinner, especially with the cross necklace around his neck. Today, something comes over him, and he takes it off, wrapping the gold chain around his right hand. He looks at it for a moment, and there’s almost something like curiosity-

He wraps his hand around his cock, flinching a little at the cold metal on his heated skin. As he begins to move his fist up and down his aching length, the bite of the necklace feels like repentance, like something he deserves. 

Mark takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he thinks about you. 

He thinks about the sounds you make, the expression on your face as you cum- how your mouth had felt on his throbbing cock- 

He can’t believe how easy it is to get himself to the edge, especially with the added pain of the necklace around his hand. Does this make him even worse? It shouldn’t be this easy to cum- it shouldn’t be, but it is.

When he reaches the edge, it’s not God’s name on Mark’s lips, it’s yours.

He gasps, body tingling as he pumps his way through it, the necklace biting into his skin-

“Jesus Christ Mark! Get a fucking room!” comes Jeno’s voice. “Some of us are just trying to fucking shower!”

The outburst makes shame flood through his body, but it also only adds to the powerful sensation in his cock, his cum shooting across his chest. 

Mark’s decides he’s definitely going to Hell for this.

Another Saturday win for the soccer team means another frat party, and Hyuck loves the attention you give him on days when he gets a goal. You’re even touchier than usual, praising him for his skills-

Yet, Hyuck finds it hard to focus on you with Mark blatantly staring from across the room. 

Hyuck has enjoyed sharing you with his roommate, more than he ever thought he would, but tonight, he wants you for himself, and when you begin kissing his neck, pushing him against the wall, Hyuck’s had enough of this public bullshit.

“My room, now,” he commands. 

With a giggle, you turn, darting off towards the stairs, and Hyuck follows you with a smile. As he climbs the steps in twos, he gets a feeling he’s being followed, and he stops on the first landing to turn and look at Mark.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Mark blinks. “I’m uh… coming with you?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“So?”

“So,” Hyuck sighs, “you only get access to angels on Sundays, all good Christians should know that.”

“But-” Mark opens his mouth to argue but Hyuck’s not in the mood for it tonight.

“No joining,” he says firmly. But as he looks at Mark’s defeated expression, Hyuck feels something like pity. “I guess you can stand outside the door and listen, you perv.”

Mark’s skin flares with embarrassment, but as Hyuck continues up the stairs, he gets the suspicion that Mark’s going to do exactly what he’d just suggested.

When you arrive at the frat house on Sunday afternoon, Hyuck is waiting for you in the living room. He pulls you into a kiss, and his lips linger against your own, his fingers digging into your hips. “Are you ready for today, my little demon?”

You laugh. “I’m always ready. But we have to wait till Mark gets back from church.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “We could always start without him.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice,” you note, grinning at your fuck buddy.

“Making me wait isn’t very nice,” Hyuck counters.

“It’s important to learn how to be patient,” you tell him, pressing another peck to his lips. “Come on, I’m sure we can find an episode of something to watch on Netflix.”

When you get to Hyuck’s room, the last thing you expect is to find Mark waiting for you. He’s sitting on his bed, staring at the floor, and his head snaps up as you enter.

“Mark?” You can’t hide your confusion. “Shouldn’t you be at church?”

“I’m not going today,” he states, standing and placing his cross necklace on the bedside table.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, walking over to grab his hands, assessing him for head injury.

“Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

Hyuck lets out a whistle behind you, and you hear him locking the door. “Damn, Mark, I’m actually kind of impressed.”

“So…” you look into Mark’s eyes, “does this mean you’re ready?”

He nods. “Yeah… I’m ready.”

“Are you sure about that, church boy?” your fuck buddy asks. “Do you want us to put up a cross and see if it falls down as a sign that God thinks you’re a sinner?”

Mark takes a deep breath, and his eyes shift to Hyuck over your shoulder. “Fuck God, and fuck the cross.”

Your lips part in shock, and Mark takes that moment to grab your face and kiss you. It’s the hungriest kiss you’ve had from him so far, and you melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and pressing your chest to his own. 

His tongue explores yours, as confident as ever, and his hands move down to your hips, needy and rough. When his palm slips down to grab your ass, your moan loudly, all consumed by this new Mark. 

“Shit, dude,” Hyuck whispers from behind you. “Guess I should stop calling you church boy.” 

Mark lets out a groan, and then he’s tossing you onto his bed. A squeal of delight escapes you at the roughness of it all. 

“I wanna taste you,” Mark states, breathing heavily as he looks down at you with dark eyes.

“Then taste me,” you say simply, already grabbing at your pants to push them down.

Mark helps you tug them off, and then his own fingers are hooking in the waistband of your panties, tearing them down your legs with one rough motion.

“Oh my God, Mark-” you gasp, shocked at his sudden change in attitude.

The man who gets on the bed between your legs isn’t the same man who had whimpered while he fingered you two weeks ago. He’s not a soft church boy worried about boundaries, he’s a confident man who knows what he wants. And what he want is you. 

You can’t even take a moment to breathe before Mark’s pressing his tongue against your pussy, hands firmly grabbing at your thighs while he licks a stripe of your most sensitive area.

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair.

His response is a moan that sends shivers through your body, his lips suctioning around your clit like he’s a seasoned pro. There’s no hesitation or worry about correctness, there’s only a pussy deprived man who seems to know exactly what to do to have your toes curling as you drag them across his back.

You’ve had good oral sex before, Hyuck’s particularly skilled in this field, but as wild as your fuck buddy is, he’s never been feral like this. 

Mark’s tongue is unpredictable, lapping at you and pushing into your hole, teasing your walls as he rubs his nose against your clit. “Shit, Mark, you’re so good-”

“Better than me?” Hyuck asks.

You hate to admit it, but when a strangled “Yes!” leaves your lips, it only makes Mark go harder on you. 

You have no brain space to focus on Hyuck, your eyes closed as Mark’s tongue pleasures you like no one ever has before. 

It’s like he knows your body already, as if he’s divinely guided- 

The thought has your pussy throbbing, and as if he senses your need, Mark lets go of one of your thighs, adjusting so he can slip a finger into you while his tongue returns to your clit.

“Shit, just like that-” you gasp, legs quivering over his shoulders.

Another digits slips into your wet hole, and more moans leave you as the church boy finger fucks you even better than he did last time. 

You’re consumed by Mark, completely, and it feels like Heaven to get lost in the pleasure he’s providing you. 

You apply a bit of pressure on his head, wanting him to go harder on you, and he rewards you by sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

“Fuck-” you moan, pushing your hips up toward his face. You’re already so close to cumming that it’s almost insane, and you trust that this time, nothing Hyuck could do in your periphery would prompt Mark to let up on you.

He seems Hellbent on getting you to the edge, and as his fingers crook up to stroke your gspot, you know he’s going to accomplish his task with flying colours. 

“Sounds like she’s close, dude,” Hyuck muses, reading your reactions like the back of his hand.

When you turn your head to open your eyes, you find Hyuck has his cock out, and he’s stroking it, gaze fixed on the man between your legs. 

There’s something so… fulfilling about being watched like this. To know that Hyuck’s just as turned on as you and Mark, even though he’s taking no part in your pleasure. 

Hyuck has a nice cock, and the sight of his fist wrapped tightly around it has even more lust coursing through your body. 

To have both men worshipping you in this way- it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. 

“I’m gonna-” you stutter, licking your lips as the pleasure builds between your legs.

“Cum for me,” Mark groans against your pussy. “Please, angel, I want you to cum.” 

The ‘please’ is the cherry on top, as is the petname that usually only Hyuck ever uses on you, and combined, they throw you over the edge. 

You cry out, rutting your pussy against Mark’s face while he tongue and finger fucks you through your orgasm.

The church boy lets out sinful sounds, and you can tell he’s enjoying being used like this, enjoying making you come undone on his fingers. Your pussy is throbbing around him, and his unrelenting digits continue stroking the spot that has you tinging with overwhelming pleasure.

“Mark!” you nearly scream, overtaken by the kind of ecstasy you’ve never felt before. 

“Fuck, dude,” Hyuck breathes, “you made her squirt-”

You’re almost twitching when Mark finally pulls his tongue from your clit, and his fingers slow before slipping out of you. You open your eyes to watch him lick them clean, and he lets out a deep groan, clearly enjoying the taste of you.

You need him to fuck you, like you’ve never needed anyone - even Hyuck - to fuck you in your entire life. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Mark-”

“Let me get a condom,” he states, sitting up-

“No!” you reach out to grab at him, locking eyes with him as you state, “I want you raw.” 

It’s the first time today that he looks unsure. “I don’t-”

“I’m clean,” you insist, “and so are you-” 

“Bruh, just raw dog it,” Hyuck says. “Trust us-”

With one last look between your thighs, Mark relents, and he gets back on the bed, tugging off his shirt and his pants while you work on getting yourself naked. 

As soon as you’re both bare, Mark is laying his body over yours, pressing you into the bed while his lips move feverishly against your own. You tangle your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his cock trapped between your bodies, rubbing over your clit as he rocks his hips.

“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Inside-” 

Mark pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as he looks into your eyes. His gaze shifts down, and he reaches a hand to grab the base of his length, teasing it against your pussy.

You moan loudly as he toys with your clit, and then he’s testing the head of his cock against your aching hole. The tip slips just inside and you whimper, only for him to pull back, then do it again-

“God, Mark-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, throwing your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes.

He pushes his cock deeper inside of you, and you both let out groans of pleasure. His mouth returns to yours while he slowly sinks into your pussy, until his hips are flush against your own. 

“Fuck,” Mark whimpers, twitching from the new sensation. 

“Told you raw was the way to go,” Hyuck says, as if he’s the most helpful person in the room.

Both you and Mark ignore your fuck buddy, and Mark takes a test thrust that has you both gasping. 

“Just like that,” you encourage him. “Fuck, you’re doing so good-” 

His lips return to yours, and the kiss takes your breath away as he begins to find a slow pace. Each thrust is deep, intentional, and in some odd way, this doesn’t feel like fucking. Fucking is hard, fast, fevered- but this is different. This is more like making love.

Mark sucks on your bottom lip, and he adjusts one of his hands so it can come up to grab at your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple and making you shiver. Your body reacts, pussy throbbing around Mark’s cock, and he groans into your mouth.

“Feels like Heaven,” he whispers, massaging your boob with a loving hand. 

Your skin tingles at his words. You can take the church boy out of church, but you can't take the church out of the church boy. 

His pace is getting faster, and each thrust has the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. It’s insane how this is Mark’s first time- it sounds like he hadn’t gotten far with the last girl he’d had under him before the Jesus picture incident- 

He’s an absolute natural, and each brush of his lips against yours has you feeling closer to him than ever before. His cock fits perfectly in your pussy, and the sounds continuing to escape him tell you that he feels just as good as you do.

“I’m not-” Mark gasps, kisses moving to your throat. “I’m not going to last long-”

“That’s okay,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. “I’m proud of you.”

He groans, sucking on your neck. Mark’s hand moves down to your hip, anchoring you to the bed while he ruts into you faster. You know you’re close, but it can be hard to cum without clit stimulation, so you sneak your own palm down your abdomen, fingers seeking out your most sensitive spot.

You both groan when you make contact with your clit, and Mark’s breath is hot against your throat. “You close?” he asks.

“Almost,” you nod, rubbing soft circles around your clit while Mark’s cock slides in and out of your pussy. 

“Ya’ll better cum quick or I might bust a nut just watching.” Hyuck’s voice makes you laugh, but the laugh quickly becomes a moan as Mark fucks you harder, fingers digging into your hip.

“I’m so close,” Mark whispers. “Please, this feels too good-” 

“Mark,” you whimper, loving how sweetly he talks to you while buried balls deep in your pussy. 

“Please, angel, I can’t hold on much longer-”

Your skin tingles at the idea that he’s working hard not to cum, that he won’t allow himself to get there until you can reach your high with him. He’s such a soft boy, the most perfectly wonderful man you’ve ever fucked-

“I’m gonna-” you bite at your lip, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of ecstasy that you’re so close to reaching- 

“Cum with me,” Mark begs. “Cum with me, angel, cum-”

The desperation in his voice is what finally sends you over the edge, and you gasp as your core clamps down on him. Mark echoes your sound of pleasure, groaning loudly in your ear as his fingers dig into your hip. 

You can feel him filling you up, and it makes you extra sensitive as you ride out your orgasm, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline. 

To Mark’s credit, he fucks you through it, hips only faltering slightly before the end.

When you’re both done, you pull your hand away from your clit, and Mark all but collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he buries his face against your neck. 

You can hardly have a moment of peace with Mark before Hyuck’s pulling at his shoulder. “My turn,” your fuck buddy insists. “Come on dude, I’ve been waiting forever-”

A laugh bubbles out of you at Hyuck’s antics, and with a loud groan, Mark gets off of you. There’s a dazed look in his eyes as he rolls onto his back in the small twin bed next to you. You wonder if he’s going to just lay there-

Hyuck’s not having it, and he reaches down to scoop you up in his arms, tossing you onto his own mattress. 

“Fuck, angel,” Hyuck looks down at your body. “How do you want it?”

You consider it for a moment, and then roll onto your stomach, lifting your hips as an invitation.

Hyuck groans loudly. “God, you’re perfect.”

He’s straddling your legs not a second later, grabbing your waist to tug you up a little bit more while he glides his cock between your closed thighs, grazing your pussy. 

“Shit, this is going to be so good,” Hyuck mutters to himself, using one hand to wrap around the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance.

He moans as he slips inside. “Fuck- I’ve never banged you using another guy’s cum as lube before, but shit, angel, I could get used to this.”

His words make you feel dirty, sinful even, a little like a whore- but something inside of you actually enjoys it. 

“Hyuck-” you whimper at how good the position feels. With your legs closed and your ass in the air, things feel more snug, and the angle has Hyuck hitting a sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I know, angel,” Hyuck assures you. “Feels fucking fantastic.”

His breath is hot against your back as he begins rutting into you, and you grab onto Hyuck’s pillow, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne that has perfumed the material. 

“You look so good like this,” your fuck buddy says, and the slapping of his hips against your ass is making you go crazy. “I’m never going to get used to the way you look with my cock buried in your perfect fucking pussy.”

Your grip on his pillow tightens, the praise going straight to your core, which throbs around him.

“Yeah, I know you love it when I praise you. You just love being made out to be an angel while doing dirty shit an angel would never do.” 

He knows you so well it almost hurts. And when he talks to you like this, it makes you wonder why he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Although, if you had been his girlfriend a few weeks ago, you would have never propositioned Mark, and the idea makes you sad.

You open your eyes, looking over at the church boy you’ve come to enjoy spending time with. 

Mark’s watching you, and as Hyuck fucks you harder, you have to break the eye contact in favour of pressing your face into the pillow. Your sounds are just getting too loud, even for a frat house.

Your pussy feels like magic, to have been fucked by Mark and now Hyuck- you know you’ll be cumming again soon, whether you want to or not.

“I can feel you clenching, angel,” Hyuck laughs, as if reading your mind. “So this is as good for you as it is for me.” 

“So good,” you confirm, which only prompts him to fuck you faster, gliding in and out of your cum lubed hole easier than ever before.

“Watching Mark have you first was torture,” Hyuck tells you. “I was so close to busting multiple times- but I held out, because we both know you’re going to love being filled with us both. Dirty fucking angel.”

You whine at his words, so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Don’t be shy,” the man fucking you announces, “cum on this cock. I know you want to.”

Your skin tingles on the cusp of pleasure-

“Be a good little angel and cum for us.” 

There’s something about the word ‘us’ that just does it for you, and you let out a loud gasp as you fall apart. Hyuck echoes your sound, fingers digging into your hips as he reaches his own release. He fucks you even harder, groaning while your pussy clenches around his twitching cock.

“Just like that, just like that-” he pants, encouraging you while he rides you through your highs.

You’re not sure how long you cum, but when Hyuck finally slows to a stop inside of you, you think you might just pass out from all the pleasure you’ve received in such a short time.

Your fuck buddy leans over your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder that moves up to your neck, and you tilt your head to give him better access.

“That’s our angel,” Hyuck muses softly in your ear.

You find yourself smiling. It’s the happiest you’ve been in months. 

Nothing else matters, all there is right now is safety and love and acceptance… and maybe a little bit of filth.

When Hyuck pulls out of your pussy, you feel yourself immediately begin to drip, and you do your due diligence, shifting your hand under your body to collect the fluid so it doesn’t ruin Hyuck’s bed.

Your fuck buddy grabs a few tissues, and then he’s sitting by your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so he can get a good look at you while he groans at the sight.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, gently wiping your abused hole, cleaning you of his and Mark’s cum. “I don’t think you even know how hot you are.”

He’s probably right about that, but you’re sure that if you keep doing this with him and Mark, they’ll make you learn.

When Hyuck’s done with his very basic aftercare, he flops onto the bed behind you, back to the wall while he cradles you to his chest. His lips return to your shoulder, and the soft kisses make you whimper from sensitivity.

Then- something is falling on you, and you jolt, eyes snapping open-

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, and you realize the soccer poster has slipped off the wall and onto your bodies.

Your gaze immediately goes to Mark, and you see a look of shock in his expression. “Oh my God-”

“It’s not God,” Hyuck assures you both. “It’s probably just Jeno fucking some chick on the other side of the wall.” As if to prove his point, your fuck buddy bangs the wall three times, and a moment later there are three returned bang noises. “See? Totally just Jeno fucking.”

Mark doesn’t look very convinced, and he rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling while he runs his hands through his hair.

“I hope this fucking poster isn’t going to stop you from joining us again next Sunday,” Hyuck says as he pushes the symbol of Jeno’s sex life to the floor.

“Next Sunday?” Mark turns to look at you both.

“Yeah, next Sunday,” Hyuck repeats. “You do want to cum again, don’t you?”

The church boy lets out a deep sigh, but then he’s nodding. “Yeah.”

“Perfect, then it’s settled,” Hyuck grins against your shoulder. 

Your fuck buddy is something of an enigma, and you’re never quite sure if you’ve gotten him figured out. He’d started this whole thing being reluctant to allow Mark to join, but now, it seems as if he relishes the thought of having Sunday dick appointments with his best friend.

Although, as you stare at the pretty church boy in the bed across from yours, you really can’t say that you mind. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I just love Markhyuck?

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🔮 preview. “I’m bad?” Hyuck gasps in shock. “Says the people fucking in an accesibility washroom?” He has a point there, and even Mark lets out a chuckle while he presses his lips firmly to your neck, his hips beginning to thrust so he can glide his cock in and out of your wet pussy.“I expect this from her, but from you, church boy?” Hyuck shakes his head while leaning back against the locked door, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still shocked by how sinful you’ve become.”

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, threesome, hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, mention of fingering and pussy eating, praise, some degradation with affectionate use of ‘whore/slut’, the constant ‘sin’ mentions, slight cumplay/leaving panties on after having 2 men’s cum in you, bathroom sex, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel. (mark’s) church boy. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Haechan & Mark x afab!reader

bonus

It’s been something like four months since you and Hyuck invited Mark into your unconventional relationship, and so much has changed since then. Having battled for a long time with perceived self-worth, it seemed that the inclusion of a friend within the relationship was all Hyuck had needed to realize his deeper feelings for you, and feel comfortable enough to share them.

Now, Hyuck’s having the best sex of his life with his two best friends in the entire world. Despite Hyuck’s growth, however, it’s clear that the person most changed by your relationship is none other than the OG church boy himself.

Hyuck had thought he’d been horny when he entered university, but it feels as if Mark’s pent-up energy has made him significantly hornier. 

Sitting in class, knowing you and Mark have a spare right now… well, Hyuck can only imagine what the two of you might be up to. As the lecture gets particularly boring, Hyuck pulls out his phone, opening snapchat maps to see if he can pinpoint you and his roommate.

Hyuck’s not shocked to find you were both active on snapchat ten minutes ago, in a building closeby. He’d never been one for maps, but since you and Mark had started fucking, Hyuck had been forced to learn all feasible sexcipade locations on campus. If he’s not mistaken, you and Mark are in one of the single occupancy accessibility bathrooms on the first floor of the arts building, and the thought makes him swallow thickly. 

With one last look at his boring teacher, Hyuck grabs his backpack and he slinks out of the lecture hall.

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[goldustwomun]

bite the hand (e.m.)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader

summary: things come crashing down around you when you watch eddie from the sidelines of the stage. you know you shouldn't leave but you beg eddie for forgiveness anyway.

warnings: (unedited) more angst folks i think i'm going through something, established relationship, swearing, tears crying sobbing (for eddie but you too babes x), i use face and features too many times but we move

wc: 2.0k+

note: short and (not so?) sweet :) :( i'm really struggling to sustain my writing for very long but oh well xoxo

Here’s the best part distilled for you But you want what I can’t give to you Your hands are gravity while my hands are tied

He should’ve known it’d get to you eventually. The screams and cries of thousands for him and only him, because as much as he stood, awestruck, by the talent of the others, it was always his name the crowd went hysterical for: Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. They’d chant and sway and go all but rabid when his black mop of hair would peak from around the stage, teasing in that very ‘Eddie’ way that you were all too familiar with when he’d feel a little more playful in bed. His mischievous eyes and quirked lips, tattooed skin and leather-clad thighs. He was the embodiment of a devilish smile, dripping, oozing, even, with sex appeal and charisma.

But it wasn’t just you, now, who noticed those things about him. The two of you weren’t perched on a bench outside of Wayne’s trailer anymore, smirking into the other’s mouth after a particularly strong joint he had rolled from his stash, legs resting on top of him as you were all but sat in his lap. Neither were you the sole body in the crowd of the Hideout, the only one out of the tens of patrons to be hanging onto every rasp of Eddie’s voice, every strum of his long fingers against the guitar.

It wasn’t just you, now, who noticed those things about him, and you knew because of the hundreds of letters he got, every other week on mail day, from adoring fans and sycophants and a few stalkers. You knew because of the way the crowd stretched so far into the distance that you couldn’t see where it ended, the countless bodies moving like a singular mass of pure, unaltered adoration for the man who assured you it’s you, it’s only ever going to be you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” And his voice broke you from the road you were beginning to travel down. You tried your best to force the smile on your lips, and really, you think he knew you were faking it but the giddy energy from the show he was soon going to be playing had already begun to fizzle through his bones and so he ignored it. He took it, instead, for something genuine despite the way it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Only a penny, Munson?” you scoffed at an attempt of playfulness. “I know for a fact you could offer me a lot more than a penny.” He laughed and your belly dipped, even all these years later, when he pressed his lips to your cheek. Eddie Munson might have been a kind of lust personified but he was also the sweetest human being you’d ever known.

“Ah, you’re right. My girl deserves much, much more,” and his lips began their slow descent from your face to the crook of your neck, fixated on that one spot that would have you shivering in mere seconds. He stopped for a moment; face still buried into your flushed skin— “Two pennies then?”

You groaned – “Eddie” -- at his pitiful attempts of humour (but really you loved it), shoving him away even if you didn’t really mean it.

“I’m only kidding, sweets, I’m only kidding!” he cooed at you, soothing your pout until it melted into that smile of yours that he loved to be the cause of as his fingers traced meaningless patterns into the exposed skin at your hip. “Forgive me?” he begged, his turn to pout now.

And it was comical, really, the way you gave into him, whatever doubts you had crumbling at the very feel of him against you, his words forcing whatever walls you were beginning to build-up only moments before to crumble into nothing at your interlaced feet.

“Always, Eddie,” you promised, voice leaving you at barely a whisper. And when you continued, heart thrumming as you waited for his answer, your words wavered: “Do you forgive me, too?”

He watched, confused, as the question left your lips, head tilted like a puppy unsure of his surroundings. “What would I ever need to forgive you for?” he asked, soft.

“Just—do you? Would you? Forgive me?”

He stared into your eyes, a penetrating gaze, begging you for an answer and explanation for your behaviour, but when you remained quiet he acquiesced. “Like you said, sweetheart: always.”

You nodded, that same, tight smile appearing on your features. The sound of a knock on his dressing room door pulled the both of you out of whatever daze hung, limp, in the air, and Eddie moved past you to answer.

“Five minutes to go, Eddie. Need to get you mic-ed up.” You couldn’t hear his answer (probably something along the lines of ‘Be right there’) over the roaring in your ears. The door clicked close again as a warm hand traveled to your waist, turning you in-place. Eddie’s hand moved to cradle your face in his palms, touch cautious like he always was when it was just the two of you. Like you were splintered glass, on the verge of breaking.

“Going to come watch outside, yeah?” And how could you say no to him and his big, brown eyes. So you nodded, followed him through the corridor leading towards stage left. People rushed around, gathering wires, plugging amps and checking cables with the kind of frenzy you’d never get used to despite having been there for almost all his shows.

Gareth, Jeff and Doug were already huddled in a corner, cheeks split into nervous grins. They waved Eddie over who gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before joining them, face dipping as someone came in to swipe some powder over his face.

You don’t remember what happened after that because the next thing you knew, the band was rushing onto the stage, the arena blacked-out, and the moments the light switched on, a deafening roar erupted from the crowd, bright lights carving out their bodies from the darkness. You edged closer to the stage, only just visible from behind a curtain, when the crowd came into view.

And you hated it, the way your gut twisted, mind reeled. You know if you had just said something, anything, to Eddie when it had begun, weeks ago on the first night of the tour. Someone had slipped a note into your back pocket as you and Eddie pushed through a crowd, security walling you in. But you had felt it, and you just knew what it was going to say.

It wasn’t the first and it wasn’t the last, but you had to applaud its author for the precision with which their words sliced at your very core, holding a mirror up to every insecurity you had ever had (and more you hadn’t even considered) until your hands were shaking, fierce.

When you stared out into the crowd, when your gaze connected with someone right in the front, and a look of disgust overtook them, you felt that lest tether inside of you snap free. The air knocked from your lungs, that same cold feeling of fear dripping down your back.

Eddie must have seen it, he was watching you the entire time, having tuned into your every move since the two of you had left his dressing room. He knew you were acting odd, skittish, like a petrified cat getting ready to flee. So when you retreated, he motioned to Jeff to keep the crowd busy before running off on in search of you.

He called after you, having bulked up enough since high school to catch up with you with ease. When you moved faster at the sound of his voice, he did too, finding you pacing in the haven of his dressing room. He shut the door, locking it, before approaching you, slow, cautious, like the floor was uneven and you on a precipice.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked, unsure.

You weren’t facing him so when your shoulders began to shake, he wasn’t sure if you were crying or laughing. But when you turned, face splotchy and chest heaving, he rushed forward, gathering you in his arms.

“What is it, my sweet girl. What’s wrong?” he murmured into the top of your head, holding you tight so that the pressure of his embrace might calm you down enough to talk, to explain or clarify or at least quell the rapid thrum of his worried heartbeat.

“I can’t Eddie, I just—” you hiccupped, voice muffled by the sound of his t-shirt— “I can’t do it.”

“It’s alright, love, just try, yeah? Just—whatever comes to mind—”

“No—You don’t get it—” and you pulled away, the distance between the two of you growing with every moment in more ways than one. “I can’t do this. This thing—” you motioned between you, and he froze.

“You can’t do what?” his voice hardening, on the offensive, and his face contorted to prepare him for the worst.

“Eddie. It’s too much. It’s been too much for so long and I know I should’ve—” a sob ripped from your chest and all he wanted to do was reach for you, his body yearned for it, but he knew better. “—I should’ve said something ages ago. Not let it go so far but it’s too late and you can blame me for—”

“—for what! Us? This? Is that all we are? Some vague abstract of now? Just come out and say it.” he was exploding, erupting, Vesuvius and Pompeii. “Go on. Say it.”

And it was your turn to yell and shout and hurl until your lungs seized. “It’s killing me, Eddie! I feel like I’m fucking dying here. I can’t compete with them, not anymore. I’m exhausted and I feel—I feel fucking heavy.” You were panting from the force of your words, the weight they carried, and you had been carrying.

“There’s no competition, sweetheart. There will never be a competition,” he pleaded, stumbling a step closer but you pushed back.

“I know you feel that way, Eds. I know you do—” his heart squeezed at the nickname. “—I know this is irrational in so many ways. It shouldn’t matter that your fans fucking despise me,” and he flinched at the crudeness of your words. “But there’s one of me and millions—holy shit, there’s millions of them, Eddie. They’re suffocating me and I just—I want to breathe, again. I need to breathe.”

The walls were crashing and crumbling and nothing he said would help to rebuild them, not this time. And he must have sensed it because it was like the air was knocked out of his lungs, too, and he fell to his knees in front of you, clinging to you like maybe if he held on tight enough, he could stop you from leaving.

“Please. My love. My sweet girl. You’re it. You���re always it,” and it must have hit him, what you had meant earlier, because he couldn’t stop rambling, stop repeating: “I forgive you. I forgive you, always, my love. It doesn’t matter what you do, you’re mine and I forgive you.”

Your heart cracked open then, your hand cradling his tear-soaked face to where he was burrowing himself into the pillow of your stomach. You couldn’t bear it anymore, to hear him, see him, touch him, whilst you cut away the pieces of your love. You brushed the hair from his forehead, your own tears falling on him and he cursed himself for making you cry.

You still don’t know if what you did was from a place of strength or weakness, if the way you went about it, with thousands still waiting for him mere feet away, was cruel or kind. But you needed to do it, or at least, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself in your head.

That and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie -- your mind chanted.

You were the only audience he ever needed. If only you knew.

As always, reblog + comment if you enjoyed this or want more! Requests are opennnnn :D

[bruhstories]

change

summary: you and eren have been friends since forever. you also loved eren since forever. but eren is always bored, until he finally finds something worth changing for pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader, mentioned eren x mikasa w/c: 4.6k warnings & content: toxic!eren (for the most part. man's got a god complex, okay?), female bodied reader, weed smoking, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected p in v sex, angst, fluff

a/n: not me coming back from the dead with this rubbish but hey, beats not writing at all i suppose

"I'm bored." 

Eren laid on his back, one hand under his head, the other holding the meticulously rolled spliff.

"Do you wanna play a video game?" You suggested, watching him blow rings of smoke. "I can beat you at Mortal Kombat again."

He snorted at your audacity before passing you the joint. 

"I mean I'm bored of my life. Nothing exciting ever happens." Eren sighed. He was tired of the same routine of waking up, checking Tinder, going to work, hooking up with some random girl, going to bed — rinse and repeat.

You liked routine. You flourished when you had a routine. Not that you were bothered by the occasional spontaneity, but routine could very well be your middle name.

"Change something, then. Change your job. Or even better, get a girlfriend." Your tone wasn't pleasant. 

"Who's gonna split the rent with you, then?" He sat up, taking the spliff from your fingers.

"Hey, I wasn't done-"

"You snooze, you lose, babe." Eren took one long drag before exhaling the smoke into your face.

Babe. 

You hated when he used pet names on you. It gave you a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he liked you back. But that was impossible. Eren didn't do relationships, he fucked. You knew that damn well when you could hear him through the walls of your flat almost every night. You felt bad for every single girl who thought they could change him. But you knew him better. You knew he would never change.

"I told you to not call me that." You leaned forward to take your spliff back, but Eren put his hand up. "Really, are you going to be a child now?" You pressed a hand on his knee to reach his fingers. 

"You didn't earn it." He shrugged, pushing you back.

"I rolled it, fuckface! Give it back!" You struggled, but Eren was bigger and stronger. 

"Fine." He smacked your hands out of his way and gripped your chin, fingers digging into your skin. "Open up." 

Even if you tried to keep your mouth closed, the force of his fingers parted your lips open. You could feel your cheeks heating up when Eren took a drag and blew the thick smoke into your mouth, his lips merely inches away from yours.

You hated him. No, you hated how he made you feel, how insignificant you were compared to him.

Despite always barking back at him, always getting into arguments, always beating him at Mortal Kombat, the reality was that you always gave in. If Eren told you to strip, you would. If Eren told you to suck his cock, you would. If Eren told you to jump off a cliff, you would. Not because he forced or manipulated you, but because you wanted to.

You were willing to give him everything, and he would take it all.

"Good girl." Eren sneered at your attempt to hide your face. It amused him.

"Fuck off, yeah?" 

"You know what would make my life less boring?" He clicked his tongue. 

"Enlighten me." You rolled your eyes.

"Fucking you."

Your lips parted but no sounds came out of your mouth. Those were words you wanted to hear since you were a teenager, since you first realised you liked him. Since you were 15. Ten years ago.

And the urge to surrender was growing stronger than your will to be dignified and respectable. Much stronger. 

"Eren, stop fucking about." You decided not to play his game. "Just because you're bored doesn't mean you have the right to, what, fuck me? Grow up, you're 25."

There, you told him off. Surely he would be mature enough to understand and respect your wishes. Only, you didn't give him a definitive no. And if Eren couldn't get what he wanted, he would take it.

His fingers ghosted over your shoulder, tugging at the strap of your tank top. You could've smacked his hand away, could've left the room. But you didn't, because you wanted him to convince you. You wanted to make him work for you, to earn you.

Eren didn't say anything, just toyed with the strap, lowering it down your arm. Bad time to not wear a bra, because from the way you were sat, he could perfectly watch the way your nipples protrude through the thin fabric of your top. 

You couldn't lie to yourself — you never wore a bra around Eren, unless you had just come from work. Desperation was written all over your face, every day, every minute of your miserable life, and living with him did not make things any better, it only made them worse. The only two reasons you agreed to be roommates were simple — you were poor and you were in love. You needed someone to split bills and rent with, and you hoped that living with Eren would make him have an epiphany about how much he loved you and wanted to be with you.

Boy, were you wrong.

Yet when he tugged at your strap harder, hooked his index finger and pulled it all down, you did not protest. You did, however, in one final attempt to maintain your dignity, cross your hands over your chest to cover your bare breasts.

He smiled — no, he sneered at how pathetic you were, because if there was one entertaining thing in Eren's boring life, it was how much you tried to fight your feelings for him. 

As if he didn't know. As if you thought he didn't know.

"Have you always been this cute?" His words disrupted your embarrassment, but you knew how foul he was, telling you what you wanted to hear. 

"Eren…" You trailed off, still covering your chest, still hiding your face. "Don't. Don't play with me. Don't say things you know will… hurt me."

"Hurt you?" He cocked a brow at you, almost convincing you that he was confused. "But, I'm giving you what you want, and you'll be giving me what I want."

The sudden realisation that Eren knew all this time how in love you were with him had you burst into tears. Not hysterical crying, heavy breathing or loud sobs, no. Just tear after tear after tear, rolling down your cheeks, down your lips, down your chin, as you cried with no noise. 

He felt bad. He really did.

It's not that he didn't care about you, God, no. Eren loved you — in his own way. He wasn't the type of man to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, cuddle you at night. But he showed his love in other ways — he took days off when you were sick, drove you anywhere and everywhere you wanted, ordered food almost every day. You always assumed he did that because you were friends, because you went way back. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry." His thumb grazed over your bottom lip. "Cross my heart and hope to die." Eren told you when he saw the condescending look on your face.

"For how long have you known?" You turned your head away and pulled your top back up.

He clicked his tongue. Eren wasn't in the mood to talk, he was in the mood to fuck. But you were not about to give yourself to him just yet.

"Long enough." He stubbed whatever was left of the spliff and pulled his legs under him in a lotus position. 

"Jesus Christ. And you enjoyed every bit of it, didn't you?" Venom dripped down your tongue. You watched him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. "You thrived on watching me be a fool. For fuck's sake, you moved in with me!"

"It's not like that." His voice was calm, but you could see him getting angry.

He'd changed. When he was a teenager he would show how angry he was. Everyone had to know Eren was fuming. But now? Now he was just calm, quietly imagining how he'd rip someone's heart out and eat it.

"It's not like that." You repeated, tone mocking him. "Pray tell, then, Eren, how it is. Because frankly I'm getting tired."

He rolled his eyes at you, and that only irked you more. You wanted to scream at him, to slap him, to make him understand just how much you wanted him.

"We both know why I didn't say anything, Y/N."

Oh.

Of course.

How could you be so stupid to think he ever reciprocated your feelings?

Silly you.

"Wow, I- no. This has to end." You punched the nearest wall, knuckles cracking at the impact. "Fuck!"

"Are you hurt-"

"Fuck you. I really thought I could get over it, you know? But it's been ten years! Ten years of my life wasted because I love you!" Your eyes widened and you brought a hand over your mouth.

Never have you imagined this was how you'd confess your feelings. 

You always thought it would be when Eren would be vulnerable, or perhaps when he would've realised he liked you. But not like this. Never like this.

"Oh, say it again." He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. 

You couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, so when he opened his eyes, all he could see was you, angry, upset, confused.

Eren got up and closed the distance between the two of you. His lips touched your knuckles, his hand holding yours. 

"Say it again." He urged you, his emerald eyes burning holes into your own pupils.

"I… love you." Your voice was dying with each syllable, and you could feel your eyes getting wet with tears once more. 

"Again."

"Eren…"

"Please." He pulled you by the waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.

There were plenty of mixed signals coming from him, and he was a walking red flag. But you couldn't hold back, not anymore.

"I love you."

Eren wasn't bored of his life. Those three words made him realise that. He didn't need something exciting to happen, no. He needed someone who would dedicate their heart to him. He needed you.

"I don't think I could get tired of hearing this." His breath tickled your skin.

"Eren, please, I can't do this. Not when you don't even like me back." You tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip around your waist. 

"Oh, I like you. Just not how you expect me to." Eren pulled back enough to look into your eyes. "I'm not gonna take you on dates. I'm not gonna buy you flowers. I'm not gonna hold the door open for you." He admitted. 

"That's… alright." It wasn't. 

But if it meant you got to have a small piece of him, you were willing to ruin the rest of your life for him.

His hand slid under your top, but you were too far gone to protest. 

Once you confessed your feelings, you were his.

Your feet followed Eren as he dragged you to the bed. He sat you down, or better yet, he pushed you onto the mattress, and as you fell, so did your dignity and principles. Your embarrassment quickly turned into eagerness, because in that moment, you believed you'd never have another opportunity like this, even if it meant ruining your friendship, and potentially, the rest of your life.

Eren hovered over your body, and you tugged the waistband of his gray sweatpants, making him lean closer.

"Can I kiss you?" Your voice was timid and quiet.

"You can do more than that with that pretty mouth of yours." His confidence made your cheeks burn. He always made your body temperature rise, but this felt like a genuine fever dream. A good one. 

"Eren!" You squealed at his words, but before you knew it, his lips pressed onto yours, hot and needy. That was the uncontested truth — Eren needed you. Not some random girl who was eager to fuck him because of his undoubtedly good looks, but someone who would worship him like a king, a god. And you did that, in your own special way.

There was a time when Mikasa was like that, obsessed with Eren and eager to please him. But the difference was that, to him, Mikasa was mindless. Like a puppet on a string. She wouldn't contest his wishes, and gave up so easily. And Eren didn't want that. He wanted someone to be by his side because they saw eye to eye. Because you believed in his ideas and in him. Mikasa just wanted him. She didn't give two shits on what Eren thought, she would follow him anyway.

But you were like him. There was passion in your eyes and a fire in your heart, and Eren knew that. You preferred to not show that, giving your friends only optimism and kindness. He knew better. He knew the darkness in your soul. He knew you were the only one who could understand him. It only took him ten years to bring that to the surface. 

His mouth was on your neck, kissing, sucking and biting your skin, and your fingers were tangled in his disheveled hair, tugging at it with each wave of electricity running through your veins. Every time he touched you, it felt like you stuck your fingers in a socket.

"Need to feel you." Eren mumbled, one hand traveling down your chest, then your abdomen, sliding under your leggings and panties. "Fuck, you're so wet." He was dumbfounded at the effect he had on your body when his fingers pushed into your sloppy cunt.

For a brief moment, you regretted not being a virgin. You had hoped Eren would be your first, but back when you lost your virginity, you thought he would never want you, so you had a short relationship with some guy who fucked you pretty badly. Since then, you barely had any sex.

His thumb grazed over your swollen clit, and you instinctively arched your back, hitting your forehead against his. Clearly, you lacked experience. 

"Ren, I'm sorry-"

"It's alright." He took your hand and guided it to his cock. "You can make up for it."

You chewed on your lower lip and looked away, only for him to squeeze your wrist. 

"Look at me."

You nodded, palming his bulge through the fabric of his sweatpants. He relaxed, letting go of your wrist and untying the string of his waistband.

Adrenaline and fear fogged your brain. It all still felt so unreal, and part of you was scared you couldn't take him all. The other part wanted him to ruin you.

Eren pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor, leaving your cunt needy and alone.

"Go on." He urged you after seeing the lust and fear in your eyes. "I know you want it."

You sighed at the lack of gentleness, but you couldn't deny the obvious truth. 

Your manicured fingernails snatched the waistband and pulled it down, not caring about foreplay anymore. You've had enough foreplay in the past ten years. 

The sight of his cock made your mouth water, like some kind of rabid dog, but you didn't give a shit anymore. You didn't care if he saw you as a piece of meat, a toy or a puppet.

"I-" Words could not come out of your mouth. He was just stunning, with his toned body and his hair falling down his beautiful face. Shit, maybe he was a god.

"Well?" Eren snapped, impatient and irritated at the lack of reaction. You did react, just not like he expected you to.

Curious and confused, you reluctantly shifted your position, bringing your face closer to him. After pondering your next move, you parted your lips open and stuck your tongue out, dragging it up his shaft. 

"You can do better." He fisted your hair and pulled your head back. "You will do better, yeah?"

"Yes-" You stopped talking when he pushed his cock into your mouth, effectively forcing you to take as much of his length as possible.

The tears pooling at the corners of your eyes weren't from pain, nor the lack of air, but from pure ecstasy and joy. Finally, you were granted what you were longing for so long. 

You worked hard for Eren, hollowing your cheeks and sucking his cock. You didn't think your mouth could produce so much spit, but it did, and it dribbled down your chin, down his shaft, mixed with his delicious precum. Your lips were just so swollen you thought they went numb.

When Eren got tired of watching you struggle to breathe, he pulled your head back, allowing you to inhale as much air as possible. His fingers wrapped around your neck as he bent down to kiss you.

"Shit." He pulled back. "I taste good."

He was so full of himself, so vain and narcissistic that it made you want to hate him. But you couldn't lie to yourself — you loved every bit of him.

"Eren, please." You reminded him that you also needed attention by squeezing his hand.

He looked down on you, as if he were insulted by your audacity to speak.

"What? You want something?" He palmed his cock, slowly stroking it up and down.

You nodded.

"Show me, then."

Another sigh escaped past your lips. You should've known he'd make you work. He wouldn't just give you what you wanted so easily. 

Pulling your leggings down and letting them fall off the bed, you gently laid back on the mattress. Eren watched your every move, judging every single gesture, and so far, he seemed pleased. He seemed especially pleased when your hands reached your panties, tugging them and eventually pulling them down. You laid there, half naked and awkward. 

"I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" His voice was condescending. "Earn it, you filthy whore." Now he was impatient. 

Never had he called you a whore before. You didn't mind it, you just didn't expect it. And you didn't know what to do, either. After a few seconds of silence and deep thinking, you bit your lower lip and spread your legs. Unmoved by your attempt, Eren just kept on pumping his cock, seemingly enjoying himself more.

Fine, you'd try harder.

Your hand slowly traveled up your thigh until it reached your cunt, and your fingers gently rubbed circles against your clit. His eyes didn't leave your body. That was what he wanted, but it was still not enough. 

"Ren- oh, please-" Your breath hitched when arched your back. "Need you, please!"

"Need me to what? Say it, otherwise you won't be getting shit from me."

Did he have to humiliate you like that? Was it not enough that you just professed your love to him? Did he have to take everything from you?

The answer was yes, and you knew it all too well.

"Don't wanna say it…" You tried to fight your instincts.

"Is that so? Fuck yourself, then." He was dead serious. 

"No, wait!" You sat up, fingernails digging into his arms. "Please!"

Eren tucked your hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek with one hand. Despite how tender his gesture was, you knew his words would be cruel.

"Give yourself to me. All of you."

Something snapped inside your brain. He didn't have to tease you for you to want him. He didn't need to kiss you and make you melt. He knew exactly which buttons to push to break his toy.

"Take me, then!" You begged him. "Kiss me, fuck me, kill me if you want!"

Even Eren was shocked to see how much power he had over you. Power he would obviously abuse in the future. Sure, you could have said those things in the heat of the moment, said them to get what you wanted, but it wasn't just sheer lust — you were willing to let Eren ruin you.

You did ask nicely, and how could he not grant your wish?

His dark locks tickled your face when he leaned in to kiss you in what was, perhaps, the most animalistic kiss you've ever had. Oh, and you were putty in his hands, kissing him back, fisting his hair to pull him impossibly closer to you.

With your legs spread open for him, Eren pushed his cock into your needy cunt, and although he tried not to hurt you, he couldn't hide his eagerness to just fuck you already. Inch by inch, you rolled your eyes in both pleasure and pain — it's been a while since you got laid. Your fingernails raked up and down his back, leaving red marks all over his perfect skin, and you could tell he enjoyed it by his guttural growls and grunts.

"God, you're so tight." Eren bottomed out, allowing you to adjust to his size. 

Oh, and you adjusted, alright. He filled you up, both physically and emotionally, and no longer was there a void in your heart. He was your missing piece, but you weren't so sure if you were his.

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his back, you looked him in the eyes without a shred of shame.

"Please, Eren, please fuck me! I've waited so long-" You choked on your own words when his hips began to roll painstakingly slowly. But you loved every bit of it, so much so that you sunk your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans.

Eren wouldn't have that, of course. He had to hear you. He heard you every night, when you thought you were quietly fucking yourself, it was only natural he wanted to hear you when he was the one balls deep inside of you.

The sound of his name on your lips was divine, like a devout subject praying to her god. Because that was Eren to you — a god.

Your lips were swollen from all his devouring kisses, and you were sure he left a few bruises on your body after how hard he pinched and squeezed the plush of your hips, but you didn't care. You belonged to him, after all.

"Harder, fuck me harder!" You begged him. It's not that you wanted to finish, God no. You wanted this moment to last forever. But you needed to feel him more.

Eren pulled out, despite your request, only to flip you over and thrust back into your cunt. You've never tried that position before with other men. You believed that it was filthy and humiliating to get fucked from behind. And you were right, you felt like nothing but a piece of meat. But it also felt good.

"Hard enough, you little slut?" He whispered into your ear, the words sending chills down your spine. Who knew you would enjoy being called awful names?

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" You arched your back, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall echoing in your room. Your poor neighbours. 

"Has anyone else fucked you like this before?" Eren fisted your hair, pulling your head back.

"N-no!" You cried out, feeling your thighs quiver. 

"Good." He let go of your hair, only to bring an arm around your neck, practically holding you in a headlock. "And no one's ever gonna fuck you like this, but me, yeah?"

"Y-you, only you!" 

"That's right." He let go of you, instead focusing his hands on your hips. "You're mine."

It was comforting to hear those words, because you knew that was how Eren expressed his feelings — violently. 

There was no romance with Eren, only chaos and violence, and you loved him just like that. 

Then you felt it — his frantic thrusts, the stuttering pace, his fingers almost ripping the skin off your hips — he was close, and so were you. 

"Eren! I'm gonna finish-"

"I know, love."

That was enough to send you over the edge, your walls tightening around his cock, and pleasure engulfing your entire body. Your limbs were numb by the time you reached your climax, and you were too tired to tell him not to finish inside of you. But Eren wasn't an idiot. Despite his violent urges, he didn't want to hurt you. Not emotionally, at least. He pulled out on time, you knew that when you felt something hot and thick on your lower back.

You could hear him walk out of the room and then back in, and in your daze, you tried to prop yourself on your elbows and look up.

"Don't move." Eren told you, and his voice had drastically changed — soft and soothing. "You don't want cum leaking on your bedsheets."

"Need to wash 'em anyway." You groaned, coming down from your high. 

"Tomorrow." He said, gently wiping your back with tissues. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "Still bored?" You teased him, but you knew things would go back to normal tomorrow. Eren would go back to Tinder and you would go back to your routine.

"A little." Eren shrugged, and although you should have expected this answer, it still shattered your heart into a million pieces. "You know what would help?"

"What?" 

"If you would let me take you out on a date."

You were confused, and understandably so.

"Me?"

"No, the Pope. Go on a nice little date in the Vatican. Yes, you." He chuckled at his own joke.

But you were still confused.

"I thought you didn't do dates." You watched him toss the tissues in the bin and sit back down on your bed.

"Well, it's time for a change." He didn't look at you, instead focusing on one dot on the wall.

"Okay, but why? I mean, why me?"

"Don't, Y/N. Don't make me say it." Eren hoped that if he still stared at that dot, you would leave him alone.

"You made me say a lot of shit tonight, Jaeger. Why me?" You could feel your cheeks heat up again with anger.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you know why!" He crossed his arms like a child.

"No, I don't."

"Jesus, because I l-" Eren cleared his throat. "I luh-" he choked.

"Oh my God, just say it already!" 

"I love you, you crazy fucking bitch!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "There, I said it, happy?"

You were stunned, absolutely dumbfounded. Love? Eren loved you? How? Since when? There were tons of questions you wanted to ask him, but not a single word came out of your mouth. 

The silence was deafening, and you could hear your heart beating in your eardrums. So instead of saying anything, you scooted closer to him, cupping his face and turning his face towards you. Finally, he looked into your eyes, and you beamed at him. There was so much warmth in your smile that it moved him, and for the first time in a very long time, Eren smiled, too.

He pulled you into a soft embrace, his arm around your shoulders, his chin resting on your head. 

"Can I sleep with you?" Eren asked.

"Didn't you already do that?" You mocked him with a grin on your lips.

"Alright, fuck you too, then.” He chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Perhaps you had been wrong all along. Perhaps all of Eren’s arrogance and chaos was just a mask, something to hide how he truly felt. You knew he would never show his vulnerable side, but the fact that tonight he at least tried to do that meant that he could change. And tonight, for the first time, Eren not only felt loved, but he felt the need to show love.

It would take time and patience, but he could change. For you.

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | explicit | 11.7k | tags: pwp, friends to lovers, brief Steve/other, mutual pining, summary: Steve asks Eddie for help in fulfilling one of his fantasies. Eddie has no idea that he is the actual star of this fantasy | AO3)

“I have no idea where you get your weed but damn, this shit hits so much harder than the stuff I usually manage to score," Steve says, face pinched as he blows out the smoke, the pungent smell of it filling the small room, before handing it back to Eddie. They're sitting side by side on the bed, both holding beers, bodies already going lax against the mattress.

"You know I don't kiss and tell."

Steve snorts a laugh. "Since when? Just last week you got lost on a ten minute spiel about that guy giving you head during your lunch break dude."

Eddie’s eyes cut a sideways glance at Steve, lips already curling in a shiteating grin. “Yeah but we didn’t kiss, so my point still stands,” Eddie retorts, wiggling his eyebrows at Steve and they both burst out into high laughter. Steve's body tilts sideways into Eddie's, and instead of pushing him away, Eddie just adjusts his own position so they're leaning against each other more comfortably.

When their laughter subsides neither of them moves away, bodies too heavy with the weed and booze in their system. They’ve been friends for years and have found themselves in much more compromising positions. Friendly cuddling while high doesn’t even make the top ten, Eddie thinks lazily.

“So, anyone interesting happening since Lunch Break Guy?”

“I’m pretty sure his name was Matt. Or Mark? Something like that. And nah, had to help Wayne clean out my old room last weekend, remember? I’m still recovering from hauling boxes all day.”

“Awww did you haul them with your dick? Poor delicate flower.” Steve giggles at his own joke, petting at Eddie with the hand not holding the beer, movements already sluggish and uncoordinated. Steve is such a lightweight and Eddie wonders why he finds that so endearing.

“Asshole,” Eddie chuckles, swatting Steve’s hand away. “At least I didn’t hook up with a guy dressed up as Frankenstein."

"It was Halloween, Eddie." He can’t see his face but Eddie hears the eyeroll in Steve’s voice.

"Did you compare your freaking monster dicks?"

"You know we didn’t, you were the one walking in on us to make that exact same joke,” Steve snorts and Eddie feels it against the skin of his neck.

Once again, Eddie wonders if it's weird that they're so close. He knows Steve doesn't tell Robin half the shit he does when he's getting his rocks off, and they're platonic soul mates. He didn't tell Chrissy about Matt's? Mark's? tongue piercing, or how he swallowed about half of Eddie's load before he started coughing and got the rest all over their clothes, so Eddie had to call Steve to get him a change of clothes because he couldn't work in cum-stained jeans. And he's pretty sure that normal friends don't make out with each other when they get drunk or high either. But, like, whatever. Who needs normal when you can have Steve leaning on you like that, smelling of his expensive shampoo and weed.

Taking another hit from the blunt, Eddie holds the smoke in for a long moment, and just as he's about to blow it out, he feels Steve's hand on his jaw, turning his head down toward his open mouth, as if he'd been waiting for this very moment. So Eddie slots their mouths together and gives Steve what he wants, as he always does. Because it's Steve, and Eddie doesn't know how not to.

After they have both exhaled the smoke, Eddie gives Steve the blunt to put in the ashtray. Steve does so, but not before taking one last hit. It's their second joint of the night and they both feel it.

“What about you, Mr. Charming? Any new adventures I haven’t heard about?”

"I went to the Babylon the other day."

"Oh," Eddie says, drawing out the syllable as he looks down at Steve in surprise. "That's the one with a darkroom that has, like, another room behind it for the really kinky stuff, right?"

Steve laughs awkwardly, avoiding Eddie's eyes. "Yeah, that one, although I think that's a hoax."

"And how do you know that?" Eddie asks, before gasping dramatically, his hand pressed to his chest in mock indignation. "Steven! Did you go in the dark room?"

Instead of a snarky comeback, all Eddie gets is an almost timid nod.

Huh.

Steve almost never gets shy, didn't even blush when he walked in on Eddie eating out the bartender in their room when they went on vacation together last year. Simply told him to hurry up because he was tired before he went back outside.

Not in the least bothered by Steve's weird behavior, Eddie pokes Steve in his rips and asks excitedly, "How was it? Tell me everything."

He can feel Steve fidgeting where he's still pressed into Eddie’s body and he takes another sip of his beer before finally looking up at Eddie.

Steve's eyes are glassy from the weed, the white tinged with red and so dark they look bottomless, like Eddie could actually fall into them, lost forever. Fuck, Steve's right, the shit Rick sold him really hits hard.

"It was good. Like, really fucking good, y'know. Intense and, I dunno, a bit awkward at first, but then it was... yeah, just really good."

Eddie feels that Steve is not telling him something here. They may be high and buzzed, but that was a lot of good in Eddie's opinion. And Steve is still fidgeting.

"Sounds...good. You picked someone up at the club to fuck there?"

"Not...really."

As it turns out, Steve went in there alone, but he wasn't alone for long. Eddie listens with bated breath as Steve goes into more and more detail about dancing and drinking at the bar, about seeing people disappear behind a thick velvet curtain only to emerge long minutes later looking disheveled and satisfied. He tells Eddie about strolling over there himself, just to check it out so he could tell Eddie about it later, and about being surrounded by strangers, too dark to make out anything but the sounds of skin slapping against skin, ragged breathing, moans and whimpers filling the thick and humid air.

Eddie feels himself getting more and more turned on the longer he listens to Steve's low voice talking about lingering hands and mouths touching him everywhere, strangers grinding against him before he inevitably moved on. Eddie's already half hard, and when he looks down into Steve's lap, he sees the thick, hard outline of his cock in his sweatpants.

It's not as embarrassing as it should be. Steve has always been hot, Eddie has two functioning eyes and an active libido. It wouldn't be the first time he jerked off thinking about Steve, not even the first time Steve was present if asleep, but they never went further than a few heated make out sessions, sloppy kisses and some grinding before remembering their friendship and breaking apart.

Not that Eddie wouldn't drop everything and be on him in seconds if Steve asked, but that’s neither here nor there.

"And then this guy just grabbed me, he was strong and I wasn't expecting it, and then my face was pressed against the wall and he was on my back, rubbing against me, his dick thrusting against my ass, and -" Steve takes a deep breath and Eddie, realizing that he has been holding his breath all along, follows suit.

"And?" Eddie asks when the silence stretches.

Another deep inhale before Steve goes on. "And it was really hot, like, I've never been so hard in my life. I wanted him to, y'know, use me, just, uh, pull my jeans down and fuck me without me being able to do anything. Just… Making me take it, getting off fucking me and then walking away like I’m just some, I dunno, toy with his cum dripping out of me."

Eddie was biting his lip so hard he was sure he'd taste blood any second, but it was the only way he could hold back the moan that was trying to crawl out of his mouth. His dick had gone from half hard to so hard it almost hurt, and he was seconds away from pushing down his own sweats and jerking off to the way Steve talked about being used.

"But then, I don't know, my brain, like, panicked, and I pushed him off, and ran out of the room before I even knew I was going to do it."

Steve is decidedly not looking at Eddie, which is good, because Eddie has no idea what his face must look like right now. Probably as destroyed as he feels. He's pretty sure Steve has seen the way his sweats are tenting by now, but considering how obscenely Steve's dick is stretching the fabric of his own pants, Eddie thinks Steve doesn't have a leg to stand on. Eddie also felt the way Steve's hips squirmed as he recounted the way those strangers in the darkroom had touched him.

The silence between them grows and grows, sitting heavy on his chest, so Eddie clears his throat and asks, "So - was it, I mean," he exhales loudly, "did you, uh, like it?" Steve looks up at him, surprised by the question, and Eddie clarifies, "I mean before you panicked and ran out. Everything before that."

Chewing on his lower lip, Steve considers his questions and the air between them is so thick that Eddie feels like he's drowning. He swallows and watches, transfixed, as Steve's Adam's apple also bobs, a bead of sweat sliding past it as it moves.

"I mean, yeah. I did. It was hot, man, like I said. Especially the... the way they were just touching me, taking what they wanted. I didn't even know that I, uh, wanted that?” It isn’t often that Steve sounds unsure, at least when it comes to sex and hookups. So when Eddie hears his voice waver like that, like Steve is embarrassed to want something, his instincts to comfort and help start screaming at him.

Before he can do anything about it, like pull Steve against him and tell him it’s okay, Steve keeps going. “But it was too much… Too, I dunno, surprising? Like, I really wanna do that again, but like, with some precaution. So it feels safe and I can, uh, let go or something. Not panic again because that sucked man.”

Steve finishes his beer and drops the empty bottle on the floor next to Eddie's bed. Usually he would bitch about it, just because it's what he always does, but tonight is not like most of their ‘boys’ nights’, as Robin calls them mockingly. Eddie is a little lost and a lot turned on right now and he thinks it would be best for him if their conversation ended here.

If only it was that easy when you have the impulse control of a toddler and can’t leave things very well alone.

"But you fucked strangers before. Like two weeks ago I watched you pick up some random guy to fuck in your car before coming back in for another beer. I helped you get out the cum stains the next day, too."

"I know, I know. It's not that. It's - you remember Clive?"

"Ugh, that asshole." Eddie says with feeling.

Steve chuckles against Eddie's neck and moves even closer, soothing Eddie's annoyance with the contact. God, but he hated that guy who had treated Steve like shit. He had been mean and condescending, and Steve had always looked subdued, almost small, in the days after their hookups.

"Yeah, that one. You hate him, he was a dick, I know. But he, well. He fucked me like this once, pinned me down on the bed, caged me in, ass up, face pressed into the pillow so I could barely breathe, and pounded me so hard I was covered in bruises the next day. Said some nasty shit too, man, and I felt so dirty but also so fucking turned on that I came without a hand on me.”

Steve squirms and fidgets next to him, his body moving against Eddie's in small increments, and Eddie thinks Steve doesn't even realize he's doing it, lost in his memories and the typical weed horniness. "I want this, but, y'know, like, with more."

Eddie actually chokes on his spit at that, stammering, "More?"

"Yeah," Steve says, pushing his face into Eddie's neck like that's the last straw, the thing that's too embarrassing to say out loud. "Like, when I think about it, I'm completely helpless. Hands tied, legs spread with a bar so I couldn't close them even if I wanted to.”

Eddie can't help it, he's got to do something or he'll actually die of Steve-induced sexual frustration. He shifts slightly on his right side, towards Steve, so that he can push his left leg over his right, pressing it down enough to relieve at least some of the pressure. Still, the sensation of any kind of friction against his aching dick makes him clench his hands into fists, his whole body tense.

His next words sound strained to his own ears. "So why not... do it with someone else? I mean, I've seen you at clubs and parties, Stevie, you'd have no problem finding someone willing to do, uh, that."

"True. But it doesn't feel safe. What if, y'know, the guy is, like, a serial killer or something? I've watched enough crime shows with you to know that happens!"

Eddie doesn't say anything, just takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Because seriously, Steve is right, it's super fucking risky and if he's honest, he doesn't want to think about Steve in that kind of danger. He'd go crazy worrying about him.

They're both silent and Eddie's thoughts are racing, the mellowness that usually comes with getting high gone. Replaced by more and more images of Steve flashing behind his eyelids.

Steve on a bed, Steve bent over a table, Steve on some faceless guy. Hands and mouths and teeth all over Steve’s body, his beautiful hazel eyes wide and wet, his face slack with pleasure. His gorgeous dick dripping with need.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

"Can you be there?"

His thoughts come to a screeching halt as his eyes widen in shock. What?

"What?"

"Well, no one would try anything if someone was looking out for me. Also, I could let go knowing you're there. I know you'll keep me safe."

Which, yeah. Eddie would. He would always make sure Steve was safe. It's himself, his heart, that he doesn't trust to be safe when he's there.

"What are you saying here, Steve?"

"I dunno, just that when I think about it. Think about being naked and tied to a bed, all helpless and shit, and there is some guy fucking me however he wants. Use me however he wants… I just. I want that, been thinking about it so much since that night at the Babylon. And you're always..." Steve's hand clenches and unclenches against Eddie's arm. "I want you there. To watch out for me. Make sure I'm still safe, that he doesn't really hurt me. Like, y'know, a safety blanket."

Jesus fucking Christ. He'll never let Steve near his weed again. Not if it ends with Steve tucked into his side, that familiar heat spreading from all the places their bodies touch, both hard in their sweatpants, while Steve talks about Eddie being his goddamn safety blanket while he gets railed by a stranger.

Still, Steve so rarely asks for anything that Eddie wants to do this for him, as fucked up as it sounds. He’s always been a freak and it seems Steve’s right there with him.

Before Eddie can make up his mind, however, Steve lifts his head and chuckles in a way that sounds forced. "Sorry, never mind, it's the weed talking, just forget it."

With that, he untangles himself from Eddie and stands up, his hard dick very obviously tenting his sweats as he turns away from the bed and towards the door. "I'm gonna get another beer, you want one?"

Looking at Steve's back and the tense line of his shoulders, Eddie says, "Yeah, sure.”

Read the rest on AO3

[probablyasocialecologist]

It’s become a real challenge to keep up with every Palestine protest and action happening in this country, but I am going to round-up some of that have occurred in recent days in case you missed them. Over 75 activists shut down and blocked all entrances to Boeing Building 598 in Saint Charles, Missouri. The facility manufactures the Small Diameter Bombs (SDBs) and Joint Direct Attack Munition (JDAM) bombs that Israel is using Gaza. “We are joining millions of people across the United States and around the world in demanding an end to Israeli’s brutal assault on Gaza and its decades-long occupation of Palestine,” said Ellie Tang, a member of the anti-war organization Dissenters, in a statement. “We urge Congress and Biden to hear the calls of millions of us living in this country, and push for a ceasefire. Until Congress blocks the bombs, we will.” After shutting operations down for 2 hours, the facility canceled its deliveries for the day. 500 protesters with Jewish Voice for Peace (JVP) took over the Statue of Liberty’s platform, dropped banners, held a sit-in, and chanted for a ceasefire. “HAPPENING NOW AT THE STATUE OF LIBERTY: Hundreds of Jews and allies are holding an emergency sit-in, taking over the island to demand a ceasefire in Gaza. We refuse to allow a genocide to be carried out in our names. Ceasefire now to save lives! Never again for anyone!,” tweeted the organization. Oakland protesters blocked a ship from leaving its port for hours. The boat was headed to the Port of Tacoma to pick up arms destined for Israel. Hundreds of protesters are currently occupying that port and at least one worker is refusing to take the cargo after learning about its use. At a Get Out the Vote rally, Democratic candidate Senator John Fetterman (D-PA) was confronted by a protester calling for a ceasefire. “4,000 plus dead children in Palestine. 9,000 plus dead civilians, get off the stage. … Get off the stage. I don’t care … get off the stage,” he yelled before being escorted out of the building by police. Tens of thousands gathered in San Francisco to demand a ceasefire. “I can feel the momentum of it and that’s why we had to get out today,” one told the local CBS station. “My son’s in Trafalgar Square right now or he was earlier today. Same deal. People who just feel the injustice of the world.” A speech by Senator Cory Booker (D-NJ) in New Jersey was interrupted by activists calling on him to back a ceasefire. He quickly exited the stage. Rhode Island Senators Jack Reed and Sheldon Whitehouse were disrupted at event by protesters calling for a ceasefire. Rep. Grace Meng was confronted by protesters asking when she will back a ceasefire. She remained silent and her staff told them, “There’s a time and place for this.”

[augustjustice]

Sharing Smokes Outside the Snow Ball

AO3 Link

It's the Winter of 1999, and Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are standing outside the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball, sharing a smoke.

Eddie can't believe he's back here, the whole thing feeling nearly as surreal as that nightmare, wayward Spring Break over ten years ago. He'd barely made it out of that hell hole alive, Steve himself practically having to hold Eddie together as they made their way from Forest Hill to Hawkins Memorial Hospital.

Spring had turned into summer, sweltering and oppressive as Eddie slowly, painfully healed.

There had been bright spots, though. Watching Lucas and Erica squabble during the one-shot campaign he had cooked up just for the party that June. Evenings out beside the Harrington's temperature controlled pool, beer bottle sweating in his hand as he traded a joint back and forth between Argyle and Jonathan, the sound of Robin's cackle loud and bright as she managed to hipcheck Steve into the pool. Steve's own blinding smile--a longtime feature of Eddie's secret high school fantasies--being turned on him the first time he made it from the front doors of the physical therapy clinic to the passenger side of his BMW, without needing any help at all.

But then summer had ended, and Eddie, finally back together again like a character out of a children's nursery rhyme, had packed up his van and headed straight to Chicago, not looking back.

Sure, there'd been post cards sent, phone calls to Dustin and the other Hellfire brats, promises to see everyone soon. Promises that Eddie couldn't keep, even if he wanted to.

Not when he didn't dare set foot in Hawkins, not ever again.

Then, over a decade into his second life as a struggling guitarist by night, record shop employee by day, his cousin Brooke had landed on his doorstep, looking too tired and too young all at once, a bruise around her eye. Behind her, her eleven year old son was studying the apartment hall's tiling.

"I left him." Eddie didn't need an explanation for that one. Her good-for-nothing husband, Nash. "Jake won't be any trouble, he just...needs a place to stay, while I get back on my feet. Somewhere his daddy can't find him. Just for a little while."

Eddie thought of his Mama. And then he called Wayne.

"Shit, Uncle Wayne, I--don't know what to do."

"Come on home now, boy," Wayne said, easy as anything, like Eddie had left only yesterday. "Come on back home."

So Eddie had.

That had been six months ago. And now he was standing in the aforementioned middle school parking lot with Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, while their kids--and wasn't that just a fucking head trip and a half--danced the night away.

"I keep half expecting Click to round the corner screaming my name," Eddie admits as he gives Steve a light. "Remember junior year, I sold to you in the alley behind the gym? Old bat nearly got me that time."

"Remember? I literally had to shove that joint down the front of my shorts, dude," Steve admits, which draws a snort out of Eddie to match his own chuckle. "Most of the guys on the basketball team couldn't move half as fast as you did that day. You practically vanished into the woods before she even made it to the stadium. Totally shoulda gone out for the track team, Eds."

Eddie clutches his chest, as though he's been shot. "Don't speak such blasphemy to me, Harrington."

"Yeah, well, you can quit worrying. Pretty sure she finally retired," Steve tells him, taking a long drag before he's passing the cigarette back to Eddie, even that brief touch enough to send sparks of electricity up Eddie's arm. Then he shoots Eddie that charming, infamous Harrington smile, boyish and cocky, the one that says he's used to getting exactly what he wants. "Even if she's not, I'm head of the PTA. If Higgins tries anything, I'll just threaten not to bring cupcakes to the next bake sale."

"Harrington, my hero," Eddie fakes a swoon, collapsing for a brief second against Steve's shoulder, an excuse to get close.

The theatrics get no rise out of Steve beyond an amused smirk. Even after all these years, he's still used to Eddie's antics, it seems.

"You know, it was total déjà vu," he nods to the middle school gymnasium, all decked out in blue and white, "dropping Sam off here."

Though he's actually gotten to know the Harrington offspring in person since he's been back, Eddie had received the rundown from Dustin and the others on Steve's journey to dadhood in their scattered calls over the years.

The December after Eddie had left, Steve had met a girl, taken her out on a few dates, and accidentally gotten her pregnant.

With Samantha, a name Dustin had proudly persuaded Steve into as the little girl's godfather. Every bit as adorable, now that Eddie had seen her, as the gushing picture the party had painted for him, all big blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair just like her father's.

Steve had gotten down on one knee long before she was born, determined to tie the knot and do right by her mother nearly as soon as he'd heard the news.

The pair had been divorced not even two years later.

"I don't think they were ever really in love," Dustin had informed Eddie one sunny afternoon impromptu of nothing, as always blunt in his honesty. "But you know what Steve is like. He's a hopeless romantic."

Eddie didn't, not exactly. But he's gotten enough glimpses, both back in '86 and much more recently, that he's starting to put the picture together.

Steve draws Eddie out of that particular reverie with another bright laugh. And then he's recounting the memory of Dustin's hair, done up in the infamous Harrington 'do, as Steve pulled up in front of the '84 Snow Ball playing chaperone in his trusty Beemer, long since traded in for the much more affordable sedan he's driving now.

"I demand photographic evidence, Harrington," Eddie insists, smile crooked, that distracting dimple appearing in his right cheek, "you can't conjure up an image like that and then not fork over the goods."

"Hey, man, talk to Dustin. Mrs. Henderson took like...a million pictures that night," Steve laughs.

But he's already mentally going through the album tucked away on a bookcase back at home, positive he's got his own photo to show for it. It'll make for a nice excuse to invite Eddie over for dinner one night.

The subject turns then to their own checkered experiences with school dances.

"Class of '85, baby! That's when they made your 'King Steve' title official," Eddie crows, teasing as he taps Steve once on the nose.

Steve goes a bit cross-eyed, following the movement of his finger.

"Yeah, well, talk about a total let-down of a night. I didn't even bring a date," Steve admits, tone blasé. The truth is, his entire senior year had been something of a disappointed trudge towards graduation, a walk he had taken mostly alone. There had been bright spots--the little band of miscreants he'd fallen into babysitting, for one--but they had all been far outside the walls of Hawkins High. "I'm guessing you weren't around for that? Not really your scene, especially with the Munson Doctrine's strict rules about 'forced conforming.'"

He puts Eddie's words in deliberate air quotes, his turn to give him a teasing smile.

"You're wrong about that one, big boy. I saw them, adorning your glorious locks with the crown." That mischievous smile is back. "We're not that old, dude, don't tell me you already forgot the whole 'prom streaking' incident?"

Eddie shoots him a loaded, deliberate look.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." Shaking his head with a laugh, Steve waves his arms in front of him, like he's calling a time out. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That was you?"

"The one and only. What can I say, Jeff and Gareth dared me. Besides, by that point," Eddie shrugs casually, "I already knew I didn't have a shot at graduating anyway, so. Thought I'd close out the year with a bang."

"You've seriously never considered doing anything halfway in your life, have you, Munson?" Steve asks, giving Eddie's shoulder an almost exasperated nudge, smile fond in spite of himself.

"Absolutely not, Stevie boy. Life's too short. Where's the fun in playing it safe?"

Eddie swings into Steve's space, then, dark eyes sparkling. Goading and flirtatious. Just like when they were teenagers, thrown together in the worst of circumstances but making the best of it, before time and pain and trauma put all that distance between them.

And if Steve's eyes drop down to Eddie's lips as they share air, slow enough it can't be anything but deliberate, and their fingers brush just a tad too intimately the next time they trade the cigarette back and forth...well. They've got a lot of lost time--and shared smokes in school parking lots--to make up for.

[eff4freddie]

After She Left | Three

Words: 5.3k

You have your first tutoring session with Ellie, while Joel goes out on patrol. It goes reasonably well, flower penises not withstanding.

Chapter warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, canon-typical violence, slooooow burn

Two | Series Masterlist | Four

He was really trying, but there were just some things he was struggling to get used to. It seemed like Ellie had adapted perfectly back to life in a community, having grown up in a QZ, but Joel was finding it hard. There were just always people around. People who smiled and greeted him with a nod, people who asked him how his day had been and seemed genuinely interested in the answer, people who weren’t trying to take his stuff, kill him, kill his daughter. He wanted to trust it, could see the way Tommy’s pink cheeks had filled out from the lack of stress, examined his own features in the mirror and saw the way his mouth permanently turned down, felt the way his jaw clicked and rolled in its joint from the strain of the last twenty or so years. There was something uncomfortable in how comfortable everything was. He was trying to find the reason, and starting to suspect it was him.

Tommy had put him on patrols, figuring this was the best of Joel’s skills available to Jackson. His patrol partner, Guillaume, was French-Canadian and fancy as fuck by comparison, had spent some time in the French Foreign Legion before coming back to Canada right before the outbreak, and he was both disciplined and elegant in a way that Joel admired and found intimidating. He could barely pronounce the man’s name, let alone make conversation. Joel had never been to Canada. Had heard it was pretty, always wanted to visit the Rockies, but first there was school and then there was Sarah and then there was everything that came after that. Guillaume was, if Joel had to guess, at least ten years younger, maybe closer to fifteen. Joel could tell by the way he didn’t groan when pulling himself up out of a crouch.

But still, out here beyond the wall, he felt more himself then stuck behind it. Even if the QZ, in his smuggling days, he’d felt hemmed in and suburban stuck in his tiny apartment, had jumped at the chance to venture out. It wasn’t just about the ration cards, or survival, even if it might have started out that way. Something in him, the dormant wolf he guessed, liked the open space, liked the prowling and the protecting, felt the pulse of Jackson’s neck between his teeth.

Guillaume was up ahead, Joel’s horse following his as they worked the perimeter. Joel’s mind was wondering, thinking back to Ellie in that little schoolhouse, wondering how long before she got itchy feet too, when he realised the other man had stopped.

‘What is it, Gollum?’ Joel asked, the hair raising on the back of his neck.

‘Someone has been here,’ Guillaume said, in a whisper. ‘The dirt has been disturbed.’

Joel followed the younger man’s eye and could indeed see that there were patches of ground, indentations in the long grass.

‘We should track ‘em,’ Joel said, scanning the treeline. Up ahead, maybe thirty paces, he spotted a broken tree branch at roughly shoulder height. Wordlessly he pointed it out to Guillaume, who nodded.

‘Dismount?’ Joel asked, watching the younger man reach for the knife strapped to his thigh. Guillaume nodded again, making a gesture with his hand Joel couldn’t quite figure out, but assumed it meant shut up ya fuckin’ hillbilly and stop tryina blow our cover.

The two men, despite their size and, in Joel’s case, age, could be surprisingly quiet. They covered the 30 paces to the treeline in a matter of seconds, their footsteps lost to the sound of the wind in the trees. Joel could feel his breath coming in tight and cold across his chest, his own knife gripped in his hand now, hoping he still had the strength in his hands, that his knuckles weren’t so swollen, so chipped, that he couldn’t do damage with them if he needed to. He swallowed, hard, his eyes on Guillaume’s six as the light faded under the canopy.

Another ten paces, a bent tree branch, a couple of light footsteps in the undergrowth. All of it indicated someone had been here recently, the wind not yet having erased the evidence. They were about a 40-minute ride from Jackson, maybe a day and a half’s walk, but there was nothing to indicate whether the person was coming towards them or moving away. In the silence Joel heard his ears ringing, crouching slightly, coiled tight like a spring.

Guillaume waved to him, indicating more tracks veering off to the right, but Joel had found his own set, moving in a straight line further into the trees. He peered into the encroaching darkness, the thicket of underbrush and density of the trunks consuming any light. Neither of them had brought a torch for a daytime patrol.

Reconvening, Guillaume and Joel silently discussed, using their hands and mouthing the words into the air between them, whether the tracks belonged to the same person. Guillaume believed that they did, that this person had doubled back, perhaps become disoriented, delirious, maybe even bitten. Joel was less sure, not willing to rule out a second person, maybe even a third. Guillaume wanted to continue to follow the trail, gesturing impatiently for Joel to follow, but Joel had one eye on the horses, tied up and exposed just on the treeline, felt like if it was more than one person they would need a few patrolmen to work the line.

Guillaume sighed, exasperated, the creaking trees absorbing the sound. With his hands, Joel offered to write the report in the logbook. That seemed to appease the younger man, somewhat.

--

You rolled your shoulders, heard the little crinkle of the muscles as they stretched around the base of your skull. You’d been thinking about it, probably too much, all the things you were going to teach Ellie. Armed with a couple of textbooks and a patchy memory of your own classes, you’d already decided you were going to start with history, maybe talk to her about some of the bigger battles, having the sense that this would be up her alley. If she liked that, maybe you could get her reading some of the books you’d scrounged over the years, managed to beg for if you knew patrols were heading into formerly suburban areas. You didn’t need much, just a couple of the classics. You had a vision, a dream, of Ellie reading War and Peace, or even Crime and Punishment. You knew she’d like them if she had the context, if she could sit still long enough.

You made your way to the Miller house, your arms carrying the lesson you’d spent all night planning in your head. You weren’t going to go too hard too early on the academic stuff, you were going to figure out what she liked. You didn’t want it to be super formal, super structured, but you still wanted to balance the need for academics against the need to make it interesting, engaging enough that she stuck it out. You remembered your little sister was a great reader, had bemoaned the lack of books in the QZ.

Ellie opened the door, her bare feet padding down the hallway as she beckoned you in over her shoulder.

‘Hey, I’m just having lunch, come in,’ she said, casually as she disappeared around the corner.

‘Not mac and cheese I hope?’ you asked, wondering if Joel was here too, if he would hear your little joke, maybe give you another one of those lopsided smirks.

‘Nah, don’t think we’ll do that shit again for a real long time,’ Ellie said, smiling as she spooned porridge into her bowl. ‘You want some?’

‘I already ate, thanks though,’ you said.

Ellie nodded her head, half listening.

‘S’cool you’re doing this for me,’ she said, and you smiled at her.

‘Of course.’

‘Joel said it’s important,’ she went on.

‘I agree,’ you said.

‘Now that it’s not just about…surviving.’

You paused, watching her for a moment. She seemed sad, just for a second, for as long as she could tolerate, before she was shovelling rolled oats into her mouth. ‘I gotta wonder why bother, though,’ she said, and she was looking at you now, chewing but with her eyes glued to yours, watching your reaction.

‘Education is always important,’ you said, and she swallowed so she could interrupt you.

‘Yeah but like, what for? I’m gonna do patrols as soon as I’m old enough, and you don’t need books for that.’

‘You could do more than patrols, though, Ellie, and really it’s important to be thoughtful, and to think critically, if you’re going to plan out an expedition or keep yourself safe.’

‘Joel’s been teaching me that for ages,’ she said, as though this was the definitive answer on the topic. You swallowed.

‘I guess the thing is… life would be pretty dull if all you did was patrols, and you didn’t take the time to be…’ Human. You wanted to say human. To be a person. So many people you’d met over the years had forgotten that part. You knew the dangers of it, the cruelty it allowed. ‘…to think, and to use your mind in a different way.’

She considered you for a second.

‘I’ve met some really dumb people, they didn’t think at all.’ She chewed, and you let her mull it over. ‘I don’t wanna be like them,’ she concluded. You nodded your head, opening the book in front of you. Good enough.

--

Back in Jackson the noise of the main street, the laughter and play of the kids, the chatter of women and men standing out on the street, the construction of the new town hall, all of it assaulted Joel’s ears enough that it made it impossible to concentrate. He wanted to get back to the stables, dismount and tend to the horses, then find Tommy as fast as he could.

He found his brother outside the mess hall chewing on an apple. He saw his brother’s expression shift as he rounded on him.

‘Tommy,’ Joel started, gripping his brother by the arm and pulling him to stand more upright, more at attention.

‘Whassgoanon?’ Tommy asked, around a mouthful, seeing the urgency on Joel’s face.

‘Tracks, we found tracks, me and Gollum.’

‘Comin’ere?’ Tommy asked, and Joel shook his head.

‘Don’t know, not sure, hard to tell. Didn’t find anyone, just tracks and some branches. Gollum wanted to try and track ‘em but I said we needed to come back, bring back more men.’

‘You think it was more than one?’

‘Not sure, Gollum didn’t think so but didn’t make sense, what he was sayin’. About a person maybe getting lost, how could he tell that just from the ground?’

‘He was in the army out in France,’ Tommy said, wiping his mouth.

‘This ain’t France,’ Joel grunted.

‘So, you didn’t try and track them?’ Tommy asked, and watched as Joel shook his head. ‘Could have been someone in trouble.’

‘Coulda been a pack of raiders, or an infected.’

‘You heard nothin’?’ Tommy asked, and Joel shook his head again.

‘Looked like fresh tracks, though,’ he said.

Tommy regarded him carefully, noticing now for the first time the worried look in Joel’s eye, the way he was fidgeting, his impatience.

‘You know you coulda tried to find out more,’ Tommy suggested, gently, and watched as his big brother’s eyes darkened.

‘You weren’t out there, you didn’t know. It felt wrong, is all.’ Joel said. ‘We coulda been outnumbered, we coulda been shot in the back of the head never even seen it coming.’

Tommy considered this, considered his brother, what he must have seen, what he must have gone through to get here, to bring Ellie with him, keep her alive. He hadn’t asked what happened to Tess, hadn’t pressed for the details. He knew that his brother would give them to him if he felt like it, and that Tommy would probably wait forever.

‘Brother, it’s OK if you ah…if you’re not…’

‘I’m doin’ fine, just don’t want to go running off after a pack of raiders because Gollum don’t reckon there’s a threat.’

‘I get that,’ Tommy said.

‘So you comin’ or what?’ Joel asked, finding it hard to stand in one place all of a sudden.

‘To look at some branches and some dirt however many miles outside these walls?’ Tommy asked, and saw the way Joel’s eyes were darting around, back to the stables, over to the gates. ‘Nah, brother, if they’re out there they ain’t getting’ in here.’

‘Just wanted backup, thought it would be better,’ Joel said. He could feel heat on his cheeks, his tummy twisting and unsettled in a strange way.

‘Y’know she’s safe here,’ Tommy said, and Joel grunted, tired of the conversation, of being condescended to by his idiot brother, soft after years of living behind a secure gate.

‘I know it,’ he said, not bothering to hide the frustration in his voice. ‘Told ya I was fine.’

--

Ellie was getting tired even though you’d only been working for two or so hours, the light turning golden as the afternoon settled in. You’d sat her up at the kitchen table but now you realised she was feeling restless, that the walls were closing in on her. You’d been going over World War I, in the lead up to the Great Depression, but she was struggling with all the different countries and you’d started to realise you maybe needed to get her an atlas first. It wasn’t the first time you’d been confronted with trying to teach the whole of human history to kids without any frame of reference with which to understand. But you persisted, because they needed to know it, because they were going to carry the history of the world in their words and their stories, because without them knowing, without them holding it, humanity would finally be wiped clear.

‘Maybe let’s switch it up,’ you said to Ellie, who was slumping over on her forearms, her chin resting in her hands.

‘Yes please,’ she said.

‘How about we do some botany?’ you asked, and she couldn’t hide her disappointment.

‘What’s that mean?’ she asked, barely raising her head.

‘It means let’s go sit outside, sit in the sun for a while.’

The Miller house was one of the originals in Jackson, which meant that it still had a little fenced area out back, where years and years ago someone might have been able to grill while watching their kids play under a sprinkler on a hot day. It also meant, though, that it was overgrown, the plants long having gone to seed, the grass thick and wild. You sat with Ellie on the edge of the porch, looking out at the weeds and the wildflowers. It reminded you of her.

‘Ok, so let’s talk about how plants pollenate,’ you said, picking a flower and dropping it into Ellie’s hands. ‘The thing about plants is that they need each other to grow. Flowers reproduce like humans do, so that means they need…’

‘Wait,’ Ellie said, her face incredulous. ‘Are you saying flowers have penises?’

‘Umm…well kind of?’ you said, trying to be serious as she broke out into fits of giggles.

‘This whole yard is full of dicks?’

‘Stamens,’ you said, and Ellie grinned again. ‘And other flowers make umm, well kind of like eggs I guess, that need the pollen that the stamen produce.’

‘This is sick,’ Ellie said, and you were trying not to grin at her, the warmth of the sun on your skin making you forget that you were supposed to be the serious adult in this situation.

‘It’s nature, Ellie.’

‘So out there right now,’ Ellie said, gesturing again to the yard, ‘is a plant orgy?’

You paused.

‘I mean…’ you started, and it was enough for Ellie to see that she was right, and she was howling then, doubled over with giggles.

‘Grossssssss,’ she said, and you were again reminded of how young she was, how exposed to such terrors in so many ways and so innocent of others.

‘I haven’t told you the best bit,’ you said, about to regret it but going for it anyway. ‘The pollen can’t easily get to the eggs without help, so things like bees or beetles or sometimes animals pass by the flowers and spread it around.’

‘Oh my god it’s a floral threesome,’ Ellie said, and you were trying not to giggle now, Ellie’s laughter creating little bubbles of joy in the air between you such that you couldn’t resist them, let them envelope you.

‘Are you learning anything right now?’ you asked, and Ellie shook her head.

‘Just that the world’s more fucked up than I thought,’ she said. You sighed.

‘What about cordyceps?’ she asked, suddenly, and you saw her pull on her sleeve. ‘Is that like…is that an orgy too? Inside people?’

Her face was serious now, and you felt the conversation shift.

‘No, fungus is what they actually call asexual, it doesn’t do the pollen thing, it does spores.’

Ellie considered this for a moment, and you watched the cogs turn in her head. ‘That seems right,’ she said, eventually. ‘There’s nothing sexy about those clicking motherfuckers.’

‘Ok, language,’ you said, and she glared at you, offended. ‘Sorry but I am here to do a job.’

‘I’m right though,’ she said, crushing the flower you’d given her in her fingers, rubbing the pollen between her palms, rolling it into a kind of paste.

--

Joel was not fine. Down at the mess hall he kept seeing Gollum and his younger friends, the bunch of them huddled over a map of the area, tracing the river up by the dam to see if they could work out where a person might wonder if they got lost. It was stupid, Joel knew any person coming up this way was coming because they had heard of the fabled safe haven beyond the gates, where the infected couldn’t tread and where raiders were kept at bay. Where there was safety and children and the world was going on, this tiny little piece of heaven that would surely welcome any comers brave enough to walk their way up to it.

He chewed his dinner like it had personally insulted him, wondering briefly where Ellie was. Wasn’t like her to miss dinner, but she was also starting to make some of her own friends, arcing away from him in that way that teenage girls do, and he was fighting down the panic, the searing abandonment, to let her go and be at home here, to find herself a place. Everything that had gone down in Salt Lake was to give her this, a chance at a future, at a normal life. He wasn’t going to mess it up now just because he missed her.

He'd been thinking of her the moment Guillaume said he wanted to keep going, knew in his bones, in his sinew, that if they were set upon he wouldn’t be fast enough, wouldn’t be able to get back to Jackson on his own, to warn the town, to send it into lockdown. Guillaume had a chance, but not if there were more than a handful of them and not if Joel had already fallen. Joel knew that his body and Guillaume’s would be lost to the mud they’d be left in when they were slaughtered where they stood. Then it would be on to Jackson, to Ellie and Tommy and Maria asleep in their beds.

He felt it starting to grip him, the tight little hand of panic wrapping itself up in his lower intestine and tugging, the shift in his heartrate sending tremors into his hands. Ellie tucked up in her bed thinking her dad was out there protecting her, not knowing the walls were being breached as she slept. Joel tried to swallow, found that his throat was too dry, dropped his spoon onto his plate and reached up to pull at his collar, give himself some room. Ellie’s blood seeping into her sheets, her last gasping breath wondering where her daddy was. Joel coughed, felt like his throat was closing, his ears ringing loud enough to drown out the mess hall around him. Blood on his shirt and on his arms, hands held tight and firm over punctured skin.

Joel stood up so fast he nearly kicked his chair over, the food turning sour in his gut as he strode out of the mess hall. Time to get air, time to get home, time to find Ellie and put her safe in the house, stand by the door and stop anyone from entering. He got home in record time, his heart thumping hard and insistent in his chest. He just needed to see her for a second, make sure she was alright, and then he would be able to breathe again.

Pulling open his front door hard enough to take it off the hinges, he called for her, his voice bouncing down the hall. He called again, his boots thumping into the living room, finding it empty, feeling his mind starting to unravel, his thoughts whirring faster than he could catch them. He tried again, preparing to take to the stairs when he heard the backdoor swinging open.

‘You finally home old man?’ she called, and he turned towards it, his legs carrying him in the direction of her voice before he’d even really thought about it.

‘Ellie?’ he called again, rounding the corner to find her standing, bare foot and smiling in the last of the afternoon light.

‘You eat already?’ she asked, and he felt the slack return to his muscles, the breath expand again into the bottom of his lungs. He felt shaky and woozy, wanted to sit down and also pull her to him, check her over just to try and ease his racing mind.

‘I could go and get something,’ you called from over her shoulder, and Joel felt his stomach drop, again, peering around his daughter as he saw you perched on the edge of the porch, a textbook in your lap and a notepad on the ground in front of you, covered in Ellie’s scrawl.

‘Hi Joel,’ you said, when he came into view. You waved to him, shyly, and tried very hard not to take it personally when he just panted in your general direction.

‘You’re being weird,’ Ellie observed, and Joel turned his eyes back to her. His heart was still racing, his hands still trembling, but he was home and so was Ellie, and now so were you, and he had interrupted a moment of innocence, a moment ripped from the future he had bought for Ellie with blood, and he was a fool and a coward and a very, very tired one at that.

‘Ate already, but you guys keep learnin’,’ he said, his voice gravelly and unsure. He rested his hand on his chest, right at the base of his sternum, and tried to breathe into it.

‘You OK?’ you asked, moving to stand up, but he held his hands up to you.

‘No, stay,’ he said, moving back from the door and into the house, his feet carrying him into the kitchen. ‘I won’t threaten to cook for you, let me go back to the mess and get you somethin’. Both of you somethin’.’

After he was gone, Ellie turned to you.

‘He was being weird,’ she repeated.

--

Joel sat on the couch in the living room, listening to you and Ellie chat. You’d been at his place almost all day, teaching and entertaining his girl, and you didn’t seem to be tired at all. Joel was exhausted, his bones creaking. He still felt out of sorts, a knot in his stomach at the thought of someone prowling outside the walls. He had to remember what Tommy had said, that they weren’t going to get in unless invited. He had to put trust in other people to believe it, though, and he’d learned long ago that’s not how you stay alive.

He heard Ellie giggling again, and he tuned back in to your conversation.

‘Does Joel know about the plant dicks?’ Ellie was asking, and he was up and heading in.

‘Do I know about the what?’ he asked, and he turned to you, saw that you were furiously blushing. You’d both finished your stew, were now just sitting at the table, Ellie leaning all the way back on her chair.

‘Flowers have dicks and they’re constantly orgy-ing each other,’ Ellie said.

‘Orgy’s not a verb,’ you said, because you were going to make this conversation educational if it fucking killed you.

‘What the hell you girls been doin’ all day?’ Joel asked, pretending to be offended. Ellie laughed, seeing through it immediately.

‘Nothin’ you need to worry about anymore, old man,’ she said, and she laughed again when Joel swatted her comment away. You couldn’t help noticing, because you were trained to watch, that Ellie started dropping her g’s when Joel was around.

Joel pulled out a chair and sat down beside you, glancing down at the books piled up, now closed, on the table.

‘She been good to ya today?’ he asked you, nodding his head towards Ellie.

‘She did a great job,’ you said, really meaning it. ‘I didn’t expect to be here so long, I’m sorry if I’ve overstayed.’

He waved this comment away, too.

‘Happy to have you here looking after her, feel better knowin’ she’s got someone here.’

‘I’m sittin’ right here y’know,’ Ellie said, and you turned to her.

‘Sorry, I used to hate when the adults talked about me like I wasn’t there, that’s my bad,’ you said. She nodded at you, accepting your apology.

‘Canna go see Dina?’ she asked Joel, and he nodded.

‘It’s late, don’t be long,’ he called after her, but she was already up and heading down the hall.

‘She really did do well today,’ you said to him, and he nodded at you.

‘She’s a bright girl,’ he replied. You heard the front door slam, taking it as your cue to leave.

‘Wait,’ Joel said, reaching out and nearly taking your arm, stopping himself just in time. ‘I wanted to…ask you somethin’.’

‘Course,’ you said, sitting back down.

‘You ever get…I mean you work in that schoolhouse, and it’s so…the whole place here it’s just like…’

He was floundering, and he knew it, and he couldn’t stop it.

‘I had a hard time when I first got here,’ you said, throwing him a lifeline that he snatched up, held fast to his chest. ‘It felt like…I don’t know, like a mirage?’

Joel nodded. ‘Keep waitin’ to wake up, back in some forest somewhere.’

‘Yeah, I remember that,’ you said. ‘I mean it’s been a while, but I remember that feeling. Not being able to trust it.’

You watched as Joel stared down at his own hands, picking at the cuticles. You sensed he wanted to say more, and also that he wasn’t going to allow himself to. You waited.

 ‘I felt like that, in your schoolhouse,’ he said, trying to explain in a way that would make sense, hoping you would understand enough that he didn’t have to say it out loud. ‘Took me back to before. Couldn’t believe my eyes, felt like time travel. Would have spun me out ‘cept you were there.’

‘What did I do?’ you asked, surprised.

‘Don’t rightly know, but you did it,’ he said, simply.

‘In the schoolhouse, you felt like it was before? It felt too normal?’ you asked, and he nodded.

‘Too comfortable,’ he agreed.

‘Give it time, maybe?’ you suggested.

‘Just want her to do good here,’ he said, and you knew he meant Ellie, and that he was keeping you here at his kitchen table, telling you this, so that you would come back, so that you would keep trying for her. You didn’t know what he’d done to get her here, but you knew it must have been terrible because it couldn’t have been anything else, and now he was asking you to make it worth it, and you were surprised by how fervently you wanted to.

‘She will, and you will too,’ you said, and you realised you’d reached out and put your hand on his, and that his eyes had travelled to yours, and now you were gazing at each other, a little bit of shock on both of your faces at the electricity pumping out of your hand and into his skin, at the weight and the heat of it. Joel felt it travelling up his arm and into his chest, felt it start to cauterise a wound he hadn’t realised he was carrying. He cleared his throat, and you pulled back, sliding your hand to your chair and sitting on it lest it reached out to this man in front of you of its own accord again.

‘Didn’t mean to lay all that on ya,’ he said, feeling exposed, suddenly. Shy. You were too warm and too kind and too close in his kitchen. He’d just meant to thank you. Now he was stumblin’ over his words.

‘It’s OK,’ you said, feeling the shift in him, again, the way he was closing off. ‘But I better get going, I’m on the wall tomorrow.’

‘Yeah? You do that, too?’

‘I do, I like it. I feel like I’m helping, like I’m maybe keeping people safe.’ You were standing, gathering your books into your arms. Joel stood, too, his full height and his full breadth expanding into the air around you. ‘Never seen much, sometimes a clicker or two, one time thought it was a man coming up on all fours. Turned out to be a badger.’ Joel grinned, huffing out a quiet laugh.

‘They can be ferocious.’

‘Thank you!’ you exclaimed. ‘Everyone laughed at me, but you want a badger running around Jackson? No, you do not.’

Joel was laughing now, buoyed somewhat by your indignation. ‘No ma’am,’ he said, smiling warmly at you in a way that made your tummy flip.

‘You got the day off?’ you asked, and he nodded. ‘What’re you gonna do with your time?’

His smile faltered. He wasn’t entirely sure, if he was honest. You sensed his hesitation, kicking yourself for prying. ‘That’ll help,’ you said, ‘if you can get a hobby, find something you like, it’ll feel normal quicker. Doesn’t have to be for anyone but you, you already do enough.’

‘Used to like whittlin’, I guess,’ he said. ‘Been a while, probably cut my damn finger off.’

‘That sounds great,’ you replied. ‘Relaxing.’

Your arms were getting tired from the books, but you didn’t want to go just yet, not until he was feeling better, not until you’d managed to get the slightly haunted look off his face. He was nodding at you, but he still seemed unsure. ‘If you wanna, I could use some figurines for the classroom,’ you said, thinking wildly.

‘Oh yeah?’ he said, and you nodded your head.

‘Tried to teach them about the ocean last week. You know how hard it is to describe a whale to kids that haven’t seen anything bigger than whatever they can catch in the lake?’

Joel was smiling again, now, and you felt the warmth of it on your face. ‘No pressure, though,’ you raced to say, suddenly worried you’d accidentally given him another job.

He shook his head, dismissing your concerns. ‘Might need to start smaller than a whale,’ he said. ‘Seein’ as how I’d need a whole lot of wood.’

‘I’ll take whatever you can give me,’ you said. ‘Any sea creature you can. Just please, not a flower. I’ve heard enough about flower penises for a long while.’

He laughed, then, a big boisterous full-sized thing. It set your heart racing, pulled a smile onto your lips. You heard Ellie’s laughter in it, saw her smile as you sat on the back porch in the last light of the afternoon. You saw the wildflowers and the long grass in it, the shock of gold against a perfectly blue sky.

Taglist (let me know if you'd like me to add you) @harriedandharassed

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[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #22 end it all.

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 5.7k (some texts in between writing as well)

masterlist ▸ 021 we're so back.  ▸ 023 signing off for now. (coming soon)

Y/N sat waiting for this moment for the past 24 hours, sitting around on Mingaho’s couch, his carpet in the living room, the floor of the shower, literally any spot you can name when he wasn’t at work or out with their friends. Which was a luxury she couldn't afford as of yet. 

Mimi hurt her deep and it wasn’t just her she was hurting anymore. It was everyone around her. Somehow y/n didn’t even care enough about her own wellbeing to do anything prior to the incidents with Minnie and her further threats towards her male counterparts. It hurt her to see the people she loved despite some bumps in the road hurting more than she was. 

Even though Mimi had single handedly been the issue in her life for many years she still couldn't figure out a way to hurt her back. Of course she could publicly embarrass her, call her family, fall in love with a boy that Mimi once wanted for herself, but it wouldn’t be enough, nothing would ever feel enough to get rid of her. Well, other than murder and y/n wasn’t ready to give up one weird fucked up version of prison to get the real one. Some part of her even wanted to just say fuck it and give Mimi friendship in hopes of all of this fading away even though she knew it none of it would be enough. 

Laying her forehead on the clean glass of Minghao’s coffee table, she took in a big ass sigh just waiting for the clock to hit 5:00pm when she’d finally be in her confrontational mode. Nipping (hopefully) all of this shit in the bud. 

“y/n?”

Mingaho walked through the arched threshold of his house, the secret house apparently nobody had been too other than her. Standing in front of her staining his coffee table momentarily with her makeup, just looking at her with his concerned eyes, somehow still as statuesque as ever. 

“Yes?” 

All she could come up with was a simple response, wiping her stain not so secretly with the sleeve of her gray sweatshirt. 

“I got you some food, come on.” 

“Does this food happen to start with a “W” and end with a ‘INE?’ Or anything involving a content higher than zero?” 

“Do the letters THC sound okay?” 

“Wow, yes three of my favorites.” 

Minghao led her into the kitchen, still holding a grip on her arm from his helping her off the floor. Sitting her down at his overly modern kitchen table, where he set her lunch complete with a napkin that had a knife, fork, and rolled up joint sitting on it like it was meant to be used for her to shovel the various dishes into her mouth. 

“A real Ramsay.” 

“I do take pride in my plating and table setting.” 

“Did you roll it yourself?” 

Minghao waved his fingers to her, catching a slight smile from the girl as she beamed at the hello kitty themed rolling paper he had ordered online. 

“Feeling okay?” 

“Despite everything, yeah. I’m just ready to get rid of her at least for a while.” 

“Still not going to tell me what you planned or?” 

“No, sir. Out of the question.” 

“Ah, come on, I can keep a secret.” 

“I used to think that, but you’re friends with Jun now, he’d still find out.” 

“No way.” 

“How do you think I knew you had a garden in the back of your place, he stalked you. He’s impressive.” 

“And not scary at all.” 

“He’s harmless.” 

The pair ate the rest of their meal in silence not knowing how to continue the conversations they had been having recently, both in the same frame of mind and their end goal in sight. Minghao couldn’t lie that Y/n keeping him in the dark about what her plan was wasn’t making him nervous, he had built up a protectiveness to her, something he’d never experienced with any of his other friends. He knew that she could handle herself, but it still didn’t ease his anxiety further. 

“Hey, what time is it?” 

Mingaho just looked up at her, unaware she had been trying to ask him a question as he was in his own head. 

“Oh, uh. 4:30.” 

“Alright. Hand me your lighter and let me get a hit in before I have to dress for revenge.” 

Mingaho just laughed, handing over the black electric lighter to her across the table, being careful to not touch her fingers and go back into his trance. 

He had been doing good the past few days, not intruding on her space with his feelings to much, keeping it just how she wanted it, just friends. Hopefully, for him that just meant until she got the whole Mimi thing handled. 

Y/n took a deep exhale and blew the smoke behind her to not get it into Minghao’s space. The pair's phones  lit up at the same time, letting them know it was time to meet up for hopefully the finale. 

Minnie and Y/n stepped outside of Mingyu’s black car, weirdly the perfect car for their bondess actions, not quite matching their casual outfits to their gut feelings. Minnie linked arms with y/n as they walked up to Mimi’s apartment, waiting for their meeting of the devil they both know. 

“Honestly, I’m surprised she lives here? I thought she had a good job?” 

“Last I heard she did? Some sort of social management or something?” 

“Perfect for her huh? Managing other people's lives.” 

“Yeah, but this.. Don't tell that truth.” 

“Maybe she was lying?” 

“Or y/n, maybe it’s a set up?” 

“No. I don’t think so. Her name is on the call box.” 

“This is becoming even more bizarre than I would’ve thought in the first place, ring the buzzer.” 

“Minnie, you ring the buzzer.” 

“Why would I ring the buzzer? You have longer fingers than me, less chance of being electrocuted or something, plus you have long sleeves you can wrap your hand in. They must protect you from that stuff too, right?”

“I don’t know? I’m scared to ring the buzzer. What if she puts some sort of magic powder on it and it turns me into a frog or something, I hate frogs.” 

“Why don’t we both ring the buzzer at the same time and then if there's a chance that she is some weird witch then we both turn into preferably not frogs but maybe cats or something?” 

“Well the witch thing is true. Okay, together.. Uh, ready?” 

“Sure.” 

Minnie and Y/n reached their pointer fingers together closer to the buzzer of apartment 4C that apparently belonged to their mutual enemy. When they made contact with the sticky silver knob they both jumped as the door unlocked, Mimi must have been waiting for their arrival right next to her intercom. 

“Okay.. Call me a snob or whatever y/n but this place is, uh-” 

“Not what you were expecting?” 

“Right.” 

“Me either.” 

The girls walked through the courtyard following the signs on the side of the bricks that would lead them to the staircase up to the fourth floor to find Mimi standing outside with her door cracked, watching them timidly walk towards her. 

“I see you guys have no respect for other people's time still, you’re ten minutes late.” 

Y/n looked down at her watch. 

“Actually, we’re right on time, see?” 

She shoved her electronic apple watch screen with the exact time running across. 

“My mistake, I guess. Want to come in or are we just going to talk out here? Maybe the best idea considering you guys probably have some insane plan to tie me up and poison me or something.” 

“Why would we waste prison time on you exactly?” 

“Touche, Minnie. Come on, let’s get this over with.” 

Minnie and Y/n gave each other a look of disbelief as they walked into her apartment, clothes strung around everywhere, a board with thumbtacks of documents, pictures of her dog, some weird excerpts from fashion magazines.  Her laptop plugged into a wall socket paused on a scene from 13 going on 30, dirty coffee mugs staining on her side table. Definitely not the place she assumed Mimi was living, especially since Y/n knew her parents were unbelievably well off. 

“You guys can just sit on the couch or at the desk, it doesn't matter. Just throw the clothes on the floor. They should be clean, but I’m not sure.” 

“Is this your apartment? Like, full time or?” 

“Yes, y/n. Laugh all you want, but this is my apartment.” 

“What happened to-” 

“To the luxury one? Well after my parents found out about some of the things I’ve done, they cut me off. Luckily my job had a way for me to find vacant places I could actually afford considering I spent all my money on clothes the entire time I was working for my dad, so I had no savings. That’s how.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sorry? That’s all you guys can say is sorry? After you basically ruined my life? You’re both part of the reason I’m here right now.” 

“What the fuck? How are we responsible for this exactly?” 

“Well, Minnie. Since you so kindly asked. You know exactly why. Your parents told mine that I am a quote bully unquote to poor sad Y/n who gets everything she wants, so I blame you for that.” 

“You blame us for the way you obsessively have been trying to ruin y/n’s life for years?” 

“Ruin her life? Please, what life?” 

“What life? Are you like.. Doing well? On drugs? Hitting your vape pen a little too much and losing all your brain cells or?” 

“Come on, Minnie. Don’t tell me you actually think her leeching off other people and making them feel sorry for her to get them to hangout with her is actually having a life? Half of you guys are just her barking dogs because she’s too much of a pussy to call people out herself. Even now, you’re here with her fighting with me over a comment I made about y/n. Barking little dog. Seokmin too, just absolutely blind to the fact that she’s a shitty friend to him while he’s picking up all her broken pieces over and over again. She can’t even get a fucking boyfriend, all the boys she’s ever loved have fallen for her best friends over her, Me and Joshua, now you and Mingyu, I wonder who’s going to come and scoop Minghao up from under her considering she’s never going to give him wha-” 

“God can you stop being a fucking cunt for one second? What the fuck have I EVER done to you to make you say this shit about me? What? Tell your parents that you were recklessly drunk driving? You almost killed my father? You paralyzed a woman from the waist down? But, you left completely unscathed, no injuries aside from a little vomit and a paper cut sized gash on your hand because your vodka bottle shattered into the steering wheel as you drove into oncoming traffic? Tried for years to get Joshua to see that the type of person you are isn’t who he sees, that you were brainwashing him? Fuck. I even left and signed your stupid fucking note claiming I was doing all of this for attention, left my life, my friends, took time off of work, just because I needed you to stop trying to take it over and just wanted to give it to you so I never had to see you ever again. You think I actually want to sit here and look at how you’re living just so I can feel good about myself? No, it doesn’t make me feel good, Mimi. I don’t think this would make anyone feel good. But, unfortunately it’s karma. Karma for all those goddamn years of you poking and prodding and sticking daggers in my back until I finally bleed out completely and give you what you want. Well it’s fucking done, it’s over.” 

“What’s over, y/n? Huh. You think you’re actually going to win? Over me?” 

“Hah. I don’t care. Don’t you see that? I don’t fucking care anymore. I want you to get the fuck and stay the fuck away from me for a good long time. If you ever pull any of this shit again, you won’t just have a shitty apartment, you’ll have a shitty jail cell.” 

Y/n stood up now itching in closer to where Mimi was standing, leaving Minnie sitting with a shocked look on her face, almost proud. 

“What? Coming close to me so you can punch me or something?” 

“No. But, thanks for the idea.” 

Y/n took one last look into Mimi’s face before taking a deep breath in. 

“Stay the fuck out of my life. Leave my friends alone. Get a different hobby or you’ll get a very unfriendly visit from me accompanied by a few police officers coming to search your apartment and I’m sure you’ll love the new pretty set of silver jewelry they put on your wrists, matching cuffs are super in right now.” 

Y/n then pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her purse, walking away from standing in Mimi’s face, placing it under a thumbtack on her board. 

“Should get you a couple more trips to the laundry room, you could use it. Let’s go Minnie. Thanks for having us, Mimi. Your place is delightful.” 

Minnie got off the couch turning to follow y/n out, but turning back around just as quickly to look at Mimi feeling her rage build in her stomach. 

“Wait, I think I forgot something.” 

“What’s that?” 

Minnie lifted her right hand and laid a slap that could’ve been heard across town on Mimi’s cheek, making her gasp in pain. 

“Have a nice life, bitch.” 

Y/n and Minnie stayed nearly silent, running down the staircase from Mimi’s apartment and all through the courtyard back through the front doors and into Mingyu’s car. 

He wasn’t sure what they were thinking or even what they did, he just drove away without a word until the two girls made eye contact and started hysterically laughing, talking so loud in between their laughing breaths he couldn’t even make out a coherent sentence. 

“I cannot believe you did that, the delivery was SO good.” 

“What about you y/n? That speech, I mean that was cinema worthy, what the hell. I feel so proud of you after I finish laughing I might just cry? Also you tacking down the twenty dollars on the cork board was such a slap in the face.” 

“Oh my god, nothing like your actual slap in the face? I have so much adrenaline right now I feel like I could run a fucking marathon.” 

“Ew, no don’t do that. Let’s go get a drink at my place. Come on.” 

“Mingyu? Drink?” 

“Yes, of course. And I’ll need a full run down once the two of you stop laughing like two little girls, please.” 

“Shut up, you love us.” 

“Right.” 

Mingyu smiled at the pair just laughing and giggling in the rearview mirror. Pulling his car into the parking lot of Minnie’s apartment, very different scenery than the one they just were at. 

“Wow, you know I just realized I’ve never seen your new place yet?” 

“Oh my god, I totally forgot about that, it's really cute. I’m trying to convince this tall bitch to move in with me.” 

“And what’s holding you back, Gyu?” 

“Nothing actually, I was going to tell her yes, might as well do it now while you guys are still on your high.” 

Y/n stopped in her tracks and held Minnie's arm, prompting them to jump up and down and scream slightly. 

“Wow, who would’ve thought THE Minnie Pinnie would have a MAN living with her. And her boyfriend at that, so adult.” 

“Hate to break it to you y/n, but we are adults.” 

“Psh, I know. “ 

“Okay, so let’s go up to my apartment first, I can lend you some clothes especially since you literally just sat on Mimi’s dirty laundry and weirdly stained couch, and we can wash yours.” 

“Sounds good to me, thank you my princess.” 

“Anytime, King Y/n.” 

“King? Excuse.” 

“It just came to me. Mingyu, do you mind grabbing the ice bucket and some wine and bringing it up to the roof? We’ll come in a few minutes.” 

“On it.” 

Minnie dragged y/n through her apartment, room by room, showing her all the new things she acquired to decorate, even though some of them are partially out of boxes waiting for their time to be hung up on the newly painted white walls. 

“Here, this was actually meant to be your birthday gift, but obviously we got distracted. Open it, open it, open it.” 

“You didn’t have to get me anything?” 

“Are you kidding me? Of course I did, I haven’t missed an y/n gift giving experience in a decade, come on.” 

“If anything I should be the one buying you a gift.” 

“My gift was slapping that bitch, hard, hurry please, I have to pee.” 

“Okay, okay.” 

Y/n tore through the tissue paper inside the pink bag, grabbing a hold of a garment inside and pulling it out, a silk black mid length dress with a matching black knit shawl on top. Something she remembers pointing out to Minnie through a car window months ago. Months before Mimi had entered their life again. 

“Oh my god, you didn’t.” 

“Hello? Of course I did, have you met me? Try it on while I pee, be right back.” 

Y/n took this silk fabric between her fingers and placed it carefully on the back of Minnies desk chair, sliding out of her jeans and t shirt and into the soft buttery fabric of her new dress, pulling the shrug over her arms and shoulders twirling a little, already wishing for somewhere to wear it. 

“Oh wow, y/n” 

Y/n walked over to Minnie with outstretched arms, hugging her tightly as another thank you and confirmation that she loved her gift. 

“I’m sorry we fought, I’m really sorry for everything, especially that you got hurt. I love you, Min.” 

“I’m sorry too, but it's over now, we’re perfect. Can I do your hair just so we can see how it’ll look with the dress?” 

“Yeah, sure. What about, Gyu?” 

“Ah, he’s fine, he has beer and a phone he can entertain himself well for ten more minutes, sit down.” 

Y/n obliged and sat down at the desk once again, letting Minnie brush her hair into a ponytail, slipping bobby pins in it, she was totally blind to what had been happening to the back of her head, Minnie came to her side brushing her bangs back and pinning them too into a perfect slicked back bun, topped off with a large black scrunchie as a hair accessory. 

“Okay, go look.” 

Y/n stood in the mirror, taking a long look at herself, some sort of light came back into her eyes, she looked almost happy. 

“You made me look good, now please sweatpants.” 

“No, you’re wearing this, I just put in all that work.” 

“But, you’re in sweats?” 

“I’ll change too, like a cute cheers to us killing a vampire.” 

Y/n smiled as Minnie very pixie floated around her room and grabbed a cute outfit to toss on very quickly all the while handing Y/n a few lip glosses and eyeshadow pallets touch her makeup up, and in five minutes she came out looking like an angel. 

“Drink time?” 

“Please.” 

Minnie and Y/n walked back out the front door and up the single flight of stairs to the rooftop, little did y/n know lying behind the door to the sunset were the rest of her friends, here to makeup for her birthday one last time. 

“Can we be up here? Sounds like someone is having a party?” 

“Yes, y/n. You are.” 

“I am? I am what?” 

“Having a party stupid.” 

“You didn’t” 

“Like I said before, of course I did. Let’s celebrate, come on.” 

The two of them pushed open the door to a cheer of people, Mingyu smiling holding his glass of beer next to Wonwoo and Vernon who clapped as Y/n and Minnie ran through the door, Minghao sitting next to Jun, trying to push off his affectionate hug, Joshua, Jeonghan, and Seokmin huddling around each other next to the snacks cheersing the two girls who came outside. A few of y/n’s other various friends are smiling and taking sips of their cocktails.

“I must be really dense? You had this all planned?” 

“Duh. I can’t believe you didn’t catch on. Now go, my beautiful friend. Have some drinks, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” 

“Fine.” 

Y/n was waved off as Minnie made her way over to Mingyu, jumping into his arms, waving to the boys he was sitting with. Y/n couldn’t help but smile seeing her friends so happy, she walked on her own looking over the city to the bar on the corner of the roof and grabbed the first clear cocktail she could get a hold of before turning around to find Seokmin smiling at her like a lost puppy. 

“Hi.” 

“Hello, lovely lady. How did it go with Mimi?” 

“Seokmin.” 

“Noo, no Seokmin, it’s over now I get to know what happened, that's the rule.” 

“Then can we make a deal? Let me finish at least three cocktails and THEN we can talk about Mimi, but a hint that it went perfectly.” 

“Good, come sit with us.” 

Seokmin picked up two more drinks and led Y/n over to a spot to sit in between himself and Jeonghan, she gladly nuzzled in between them, Joshua sitting across from her just smiling shyly, clearly not knowing how to insert himself again into a conversation after the one they had at her house, the tension was obvious but hopefully with the help of her friends he would get comfortable around her again while she made up her mind. 

“Happy Late Birthday, y/n. I missed you.” 

“Thank you, Hannie. I missed you too.” 

y/n wrapped her arm around him tightly after their hug letting it still rest around his shoulders, drinking away as he and Seokmin explained their crazy night out that somehow involved jumping off the pier after losing a bet with some girls at a bar. 

Y/n couldn’t help herself looking between Joshua and Minghao all night, almost like she was trying to force her eyes into making the decision for her. She knew in her gut what she actually wanted, but also wasn’t ready to hurt someone in the process. 

But, something about standing up for herself today made her realize a part of what Mimi was saying was true, maybe she did use people to make choices for her, maybe she was always too scared to admit how she felt because she was scared of the rejection that came with it, that’s why she chose to hide it away with pen and paper, obviously never thinking those things would come out. 

Her feelings for Joshua were nearly life long, she remembered when he didn’t feel like her friend anymore and moved himself into the painful crush category. Ever since fifth grade she couldn’t stop having feelings for him, all through high school, his stint with Mimi, even after he said and did terrible things to her, she did  them back so it was an even playing field. When she first lost her virginity, when she was seeing Mingyu, and even now. Joshua was so evident in her DNA from her childhood, it wasn’t really easy to shake him from her mind. 

Only one person had done it, Minghao. She didn’t always trust him or his intentions, which turned out to make sense once he had come clean, but she knew from the night he spent at her apartment, when he asked about her life, her photos. Even the simple things about him made her like him more, the way he’s always so engaged in her stories, never looking away from her eyes or her lips as she spoke, never using his phone when he’s with her only to take photos or show her a song that reminded him of her, writing down the movies she suggests just so he can understand her weird references she makes. He was a caretaker, someone who never questioned her, never made her feel less than, he always knew how to make her happy when she didn’t want to be. He fought for her, the same way she did for her friends. 

After her two drinks dried up and much of her conversations were lost on her picking her brain of how to make a choice between two worthy candidates, she got up to use the restroom, heading back down to Minnie’s place, on the way back out she ran into Minghao coming into the front door to pick up another case of beer to bring upstairs, he put it down and let her pass by, giving her hand a small squeeze and a smile without saying anything. Subtle but effective, he let her know he’d be right behind her on the way up. 

“Those are all for you I assume?” 

“No, you know I don’t drink beer. Mingyu is a little drunk so I offered to come down and grab it for him, I didn’t want him to get hurt.” 

“How very chivalrous of you.” 

Minghao put the case down and pulled a few out to pop into the cooler, grabbing a bottle of wine and an opener, waving y/n along to the otherside of the roof where only a few people were sitting and smoking. 

“Let’s share that birthday drink I owed you last time.” 

“Sounds perfect. I’m going to steal this blanket, hold on.” 

Y/n walked over to a couple sitting at a small table smoking a joint, holding hands lovingly watching the sunset. Minghao noticed her bright smile as she talked and waved to them while stealing the stray gray blanket from the open chair and skipping back over to Minghao covering them both up as she saw on the plush floor cushion. 

“That’s Mark, the guy I work for. I think I told you about him before. He’s super nice, he’s planning on proposing to her tonight. Maybe we’ll see it happen.” 

“That would be cute.” 

Minghao smiled at y/n’s eyes, lighting up talking about their proposal. He noticed they did that alot when she would talk about people being happy. It was one of the things he liked the most about her. 

“So, Swan.” 

“Yes, Mungbean?” 

“How was she?” 

“Ah, the subtle approach, I love it.” 

“Well, the place she's living in was sort of alarming at first. It’s totally fine, but not what I had expected, especially since last time I saw her she said she was living in some highrise just a few blocks over from here, actually. I guess it’s all she can afford because her parents cut her off for what she’s doing, she tried to blame me and Minnie, but we didn’t even say anything to them this time? Obviously, someone did.. Maybe Joshua or his mom? Not sure.” 

“Well, that’d be kind of silly for you guys to tattle on her like she's a child.” 

“Right. That’s exactly what I thought. Even if she does act like a child sometimes.” 

“What else happened? You guys just talked?” 

“I wouldn’t say it was talking, it was more of a shouting match at first. But it felt good to finally stick up for myself and not let someone else do it for me.” 

“So, she’s fine with it? Going to leave you alone?” 

“I threatened her with handcuffs.” 

“Kinky.” 

“No, the police kind. I said if she ever tried any shit ever again I would come over and her small world would become a small jail cell, something like that.” 

Minghao laughed, picturing y/n upset, yelling at the girl who made her life hell as he poured them both another glass of wine, halfway through their bottle and moment alone already. 

“Surprised she didn’t try to rip your hair out or something. So you guys really just went over to talk?” 

“ No, not exactly, we did have more of an elaborate plan, but we got side tracked. Oh! And I tacked a twenty dollar bill to her board and said she needs to use it to do laundry which turned her face so red I thought she was about to, but Minnie slapped her instead and we ran off.” 

“What?” 

“What?” 

“The last part again?” 

“I know, I was so shocked I knew Minnie was a feisty bitch but I did NOT expect the slap it was so perfect. We laughed the entire way back here about it.” 

Minghao laughed, picturing the two girls running away childlike after Minnie finally let their bully have it. It seemed like the type of thing he wished they had gotten on camera. 

“But, yeah, nothing more than that. Just a bunch of girls fighting and slapping each other, something weird people on the internet would pay a lot of money for I think.” 

“Too bad you wasted your twenty on her.” 

“I can spare it, I think. Plus, she did have a lot of dirty laundry.” 

“Do you feel better now? I mean, less stressed about it? Because I was worried about you today, you looked like you were going to scream at any second.” 

“Yes, so much better. Thank you for this and for dinner and for letting me stay at your place, it was so nice seeing where you actually live, I was beginning to think you were some type of woodland creature at night or something.” 

“A woodland creature?” 

“Yeah, just you never showed anyone where you lived before. I don’t know? It’s really beautiful though, you should have people over more often, it's so cozy.” 

“You could move in.” 

“What?” 

“No, I just mean. I know you were afraid in your apartment alone after a while and I have the space, I mean you could have an office and a bedroom all to yourself, I don’t mean like-” 

“Are you ever going to ask me out?” 

“What? I-” 

“No. I mean. I’d like to go out with you, I’d say yes. We’ve moved faster in all the other steps and we’ve never really been on an actual date, so.” 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to ask you out?” 

“I thought I was the oblivious one.” 

“Oh, I-” 

“I mean at my parents house when we went outside, I thought you almost did. But, you never actually said anything. And I like spending time with you, just alone. It doesn’t have to be anything amazing or special, just us hanging out, unless you want to do something fancy? You’re kind of fancy. I like that. We kind of were getting to the maybe dating part before your art show, but that went to shit and I was dumb and went on a date with Joshua, which I’m sorry about by the way, that's complicated, but I don’t have feelings for him anymore like that, I have feelings for you. So? I’m talking too much, right?” 

“You’re not no.” 

“So? Yes? Unless you don’t have feelings for me which then makes this incredibly weird and we can just be friends. At least think about it. I-” 

“Y/n.” 

“No, really just give it a few days. I’ve never asked anyone out before so this is weird, plus someone who’s my friends and friends with my friends, so.” 

Minghao took his hand and covered y/n’s mouth for a second just to get her attention back to him and stop her rambling so he can finally get a word in through her rant. 

“Hey.” 

“Y/n, I do like you. I thought that was obvious. I thought you just wanted to be friends.” 

“I thought you just wanted to be friends.” 

“I mean I like being your friend, but I’d like to go out with you. Thinking about staying your friend while I’ve liked you all this time and then watching you date someone else would probably kill me a little. So, yes I’d love to go on a date with you.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, please.” 

MInghao took y/n's hand, holding it tightly while he set their glasses of wine down in front of them and pulled her in for a small kiss on her stained lips. 

“The music started, should we go dancing?” 

“Shouldn’t we plan our date?” 

“That’s up to you, Mr. Minghao. I expect it to be nothing less than fabulous.” 

“Wait, but you asked me out, shouldn't you be planning it?” 

“Is that how it works?” 

“Normally.”

“Okay, I will.” 

“Really, y/n. No, I can plan it.” 

“No. I’m planning. Now come on, let’s dance please.” 

Y/n pulled Minghao up from the ground, running with him to find the rest of their friends on the dance floor, never letting his hand fall from hers almost like a claim. 

Y/n and her friends spent the rest of the night, talking and laughing. Minnie told the story about the slap heard around the world to every separate group of people she talked to. 

When it was finally time to leave, y/n and Minghao hopped in a cab to his place. A place that someday, if things go right could be theirs together. 

When they finally shut the outside world away and got ready for bed, y/n glanced at the various mentions online from her friends, pictures, tweets, instagram posts, and some texts. But, one of them stuck out the most, a text from someone, an anonymous number she never had contacted before something that made her hair stand up on the nape of her neck. 

note: hi! hope u enjoy this final written chapter, the next (two?) lil insert(s) will just to be finishing up this story and then we will be onto the next which I hope you'll all enjoy just as much!! have a good weekend my angel bb's :')

taglist:@sun-daddy-yoriichi@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo@minhui896@wonwooz1@porridgesblog@jasssy051@soonyoungblr@saucegirlreads@musingsofananxiouspotato@young-adult-summer@punkhazardlaw@bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo@k-drama-adict@90s-belladonna@blaycke@dnylwoo@to-mi-yo, @nonononranghaee@bee-the-loser@mxnhoeuwu

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

5k is so deserved! I constantly go back and reread your works and am always looking forward to what’s next ❤️❤️❤️

I’ve been having thoughts about a Hesh x femreader reunion request thats similar to your latest Keegan piece. Except reader was childhood friends with the Walker boys, but despite there being feelings between Hesh and reader they’re scared of confessing because of their friendship. they get separated when Odin happens, and both join the military and reunite during a joint Op with the Ghosts and readers team, and even after 10 years their feelings resurface and finally get together.

Can’t wait to see what you’ll write for all the requests!!

—To The Boy of My Childhood

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Ten years came and went fast, but the memory of the Walker boys stayed. One more than the other. You never got to tell him you loved him.] ❞

You remembered his kindness, above all. His big, pure, heart. Hesh wasn’t just someone you grew to know and then threw out like a pair of old socks, no, he was too good for that—a mix of playful boyishness and the makes of a fine man. You wished you could have told him how much he meant to you before it all just fell apart. 

Growing up near the Walker boys was a treat and a curse, not for yourselves, but for the adults—no one got in the way of you three. Late nights in the backyard, laughter keeping everyone up into the small hours. The fights and the near-instantaneous make-ups. 

The older years of deep-rooted attraction to the green-eyed boy of your youth.

David Hesh Walker had been everything you had ever wanted, and even when the ground shook and the word split, you still couldn’t tell him how you felt. But fate had plans for the two of you—it was only a matter of time. 

Ten years, to be exact.

You jump down from the helo, your knees taking the brunt of the weight from your gear as your team follows. Fort Santa Monica was a bustling stronghold right on the door of Federation occupation—enemies stalking like animals beyond the wall for a glimpse of weakness. The men and women here were anything but.

“On me!” You call out behind you, and the resounding rush of booted feet follows as you all move out along the helicopter pad swiftly. The unit you were assigned was given a simple task—assist the commanding Captain here and his men with wall defense to reduce the amount of casualties. 

Over the ten years of war, you’d honed yourself into something akin to a walking weapon. Found deliriously surviving in the remnants of the USA, your rage and anger gave you the skills you needed to still be alive when the soldiers found you; brought you back to civilization. It hadn’t taken much for you to sign up after that, thinking Hesh and his brother were dead. 

Hesh. God, you had loved him so much that the feeling hadn’t dimmed in the slightest even now. Being so close to home once more made you feel…strange. 

“Lieutenant!” One of the soldiers comes up to greet you all, shouting above the whir of blades—he was an older man with a shaved head and a large beard. “Welcome to Santa Monica!”

“Good to be here!” You call, a rifle hanging heavy on your chest. “Where do you need us, Sir?”

“Fall in, I’m bringin’ you to Scarecrow!” So you follow, leaving the sandy beach of the port and heading into the dense streets. There were civilians in this Fort, you knew, just beyond the checkpoint of fences. You have to wonder how they felt about this—trapped in a rat cage with the water and the war clamping to them tightly. 

“Heard your unit was well-known.” You’d learned the man’s name was Thomas Merrick—a Captain here. You blink at him, head tilting. “Scarecrow was eager to get you here, can’t say why.” 

“I was told you needed support at the wall, Captain,” you explain, brows furrowing. “Were my superiors mistaken?”

Merrick's brown eyes stare at you as you walk beside him, your men all speaking to one another from behind. 

“No,” is all you’re told. 

This ‘Scarecrow’ was known as only that, and your lips thin at the comment leveled at you. Strange. 

Your other men are shown their barracks, and you send them off to get rid of their packs and belongings while you continue on with Merrick to the control room—eager to meet this Captain and get real answers. 

When you get there, the second you push open the door and Merrick takes his leave, you’re greeted by one of the old faces that you could recognize anywhere. 

You freeze just three feet into the room, locking eyes with this mythical ‘Scarecrow’ but it wasn’t some great war strategist, at least, not as you know him.

“Mr. Walker?” You pause, blinking in confusion. Elias Walker—Hesh and Logan’s dad. Your heart constricts in your chest. 

He looks at you, a small smile on his stern face as his arms crossed, nodding his head. 

“Thought I recognized that name in my request for transfers.” 

“Holy shit,” you breathe, a grin breaking out over your face for the first time in ages. Part of you wanted to race and hug him—bathe in the comfort that his rare soft looks would bring you when you were younger…but you weren’t that kid anymore. Being alive was enough, and with the things you’d seen, it meant far more than anything else. Elias seemed to share that sentiment, as he walked over and put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it. 

“How did…how are…” Your head shakes quickly, memories flooding back along with the pain. But there, in your chest, a flicker of hope—something more blooming back to life. “Logan?” Your voice is tiny, pleading as you pause, gazing into Elias’s eyes. “...Hesh?”

“I already called ‘em back in. They’ll be here soon.” He gives you a proud nod. “I’m glad you’re still here, Sweetheart.” 

You laugh, smile wobbling. 

Alive. Hesh was alive. 

Every wall you’d built falls the second boyish laughter echoes out from the halls. You turn, hearing feet move down the floor, closer and closer as your body stills like a statue. 

Alive. 

When a shoulder pushes open the door, you stop breathing as a far older David enters the room, Logan, as always, not far behind. 

He’s mature now, with a beanie over his short brown hair and the presence of a grown man holding down responsibilities—he was smirking back and his brother, saying in a voice that haunts your dreams, “Think we should tell him what Riley found today, Logan?” 

The younger brother stops short, locks eyes with you, and his body goes as tight as a fishing line. 

Hesh’s brows furrow. “Logan?” He turns to you and those green eyes go confused for a moment, lips going thin. It’s a flash of recognition that re-ignites them—a flicker of something long past before they snap wide with fierce realization.

Blinking quickly, the man watches you, hands at his sides jerking forward by a millimeter as if to grab for you at even a single glance. No one speaks for a long, long time, and maybe you don’t want them to. Hesh and you are locked in a look of pure pain and elation—a dance of life and death. 

There aren’t any words for it beyond the sudden mad scramble for the other’s hold. 

You collide in a sharp breath and a hand to the back of your head—keeping you to him as you both grasp for purchase; for a glimpse of your childhood back.

“Jesus Christ,” Hesh breathes, anchoring you to him as his chest sputters. “Oh my fucking God.”

“Hesh,” you whimper through a sobbing laugh. “You son of a bitch, I should throttle you.”

He scoffs wetly into your ear, hands quivering and voice cracking. 

“Me? If I remember, Doll, you were the one to take that tumble down the hill—I…I tried to find you, y’know that? I swear, I didn’t want to leave but I—”

You pull back and slam your lips to his. 

It was far better than an ‘I love you’ when he melted and grappled you closer.

[theghoulboysblog]

My Top Ten Favorite Moments from Ghost Files in Dallas Texas starting at the funniest:

1. Shane and Ryan getting into a brief argument over the Sally House flashlights and Ryan saying, “We are NOT going to rehash a six year fight!” and then making a comment along the lines of, “We’re like a married couple!”

2. After someone clarified that Shane stole Goatman’s Bridge first, Ryan agreed and said that it indeed was *technically* Shane’s bridge and that Shane deserves all of the credit. In response to that, Shane said that after he claimed the bridge from Goatman, he added Ryan’s name to the deed, so therefore IT IS IN FACT Shane and Ryan’s Bridge that they have joint possession of :) And Shane wasn’t being teasing about it AT ALL. He wasn’t saying, “Ha, Goatman’s gonna get BOTH OF US NOW.” He was being painfully genuine in a “i want this to be a thing you and me share” kinda way. 😭

3. Shane saying that he will more than likely finish the Hotdoga someday and that he has the ending roughly planned out in his mind! :D He also explained that he stopped due to the work load, leading Ryan to say, “He made the Hotdoga to annoy me, but then he was like ‘Damn, this is a lot of work!’” 😭 (Also someone made a comment on the dead look in Ryan’s eyes at the mention of the Hotdoga and said, “It took me back!” and Ryan sadly responded, “Me too.” Haha!)

4. The Shaniacs teasing Ryan about the evidence he caught / the evidence that he found compelling enough to include in the live show. Some person yelled nonchalantly, “FAKE!” and Ryan teased them multiple times through the show. Another person put air quotes around the word “evidence” while talking to Ryan and Shane took his hat off for a second in respect, and another person brought a laser pointer to help Ryan point out the evidence cause it was so hard to see and Ryan was so flabbergasted 😭 BRO WAS GOING THROUGH IT!!! (It was all lighthearted respectful teasing and Ryan was a good sport about it all!)

5. A person, dressed HEAD TO TOE as the professor, politely tossed some jelly beans at Shane, Meredith, and Ryan. Shane then dropped some of said jelly beans and proceeded to eat them off the ground, claiming that since they landed on the white carpet under their feet and not the stage that they were fine. Ryan and Meredith were NOT pleased in the slightest. Ryan did however take a clean green jelly bean out of Shane’s palm and Shane let him happily and then politely offered one to Meredith (she said no haha.)

6. SHANE ALMOST FALLING WHEN HE GOT UP TO DO THE ESTES METHOD LMAOOO!

7. Shane and Ryan talking about the episode they discussed the possibility that the man who died playing piano pooped himself and then revealing that they had to cut for like five minutes because they cried laughing so long. Shane, while reminiscing about this moment, said, “Very sad but GOD DAMN was it funny!” 😭 He also revealed that there have been MANY times him and Ryan have laughed themselves to tears together and I thought that was kinda sweet.

8. Meredith and Ryan thought there was a ghost backstage, and then Shane and Ryan lied to Meredith and said the ghost started acting up again when she left, resulting in Meredith believing that the ghost was just racist.

9. A fan asking Shane a question about a certain clip and saying, “When that ghost called you daddy-” and Shane, COMPLETELY misunderstanding what they said, yelling confusedly, “WHEN THAT GHOST FUCKING DIED?!?!?!? 🤨🤨🤨”

10. And lastly, Ryan calling Steven their “Delicate Steven Lim” and teasing him for the last few minutes of the show haha 💛 The best part of it was when Ryan was talking about him and Shane taking Steven ghost hunting years ago and stating that Steven had said he found his calm. Ryan, remembering this moment, said, “He didn’t find calm, he TALKED TO GOD!!! FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!!!” 😭 and the exasperation in his tone was so damn funny.

Bonus. This person came up to ask a question holding an empty nacho box and Ryan was weirdly extremely fixated on it 😭 He was pretty much like, “Did that hold nachos??? Cool. It looked like a nachos kind of box. Cool, cool. You looked like you enjoyed them? The nachos?” I literally have NO CLUE what that was about but I think he might have been hungry for some nachos idk?!?! 😭😭😭

(Other honorable mentions are Ryan being upset the ghost called Shane daddy and not him, Shane yelling that he’s “GOT PUPPETS TO MAKE!”, Ryan getting a little anxious when people weren’t cheering for his evidence and being like, “NEVERMIND I DON’T THINK IT’S COMPELLING ANYMORE I SWEAR-“, Shane blasting “Mamma Mia” before the show, and Shane taking amazing care of a doll someone gifted him and putting it between him and Ryan!!!)

The show was AMAZING, the episode was SO great, (NO SPOILERS BUT YOU GUYS ARE IN FOR A TREAT!!!), the people there were so accepting, and the Ghoul Boys were so UNBELIEVABLY NICE TO EVERYONE. If you have the money and time for it, I honestly recommend buying a ticket to one of the shows because I had SUCH A GOOD TIME. (Also, LITERALLY DON’T BE SCARED TO ASK THEM A QUESTION OR GIVE THEM A GIFT CAUSE THEY WERE SO GRATEFUL, PATIENT, AND KIND, ESPECIALLY TO PEOPLE WHO WERE OBVIOUSLY ANXIOUS TO TALK TO THEM.) I honestly have NOTHING bad to say about my experience. It was a dandy time and I plan to go to another show in the future if they ever tour again.

[crazyk-imagine]

Gym and Admin Work

Pairing: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x Front desk!reader

Characters: Santiago "Pope" Garcia, Front desk!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Santiago being a flirt, reader being sarcastic, the boys for sure tease the man, they lowkey ship the reader and Tago, cute date moment, reader and Tago are hooked

Word Count: 1.2k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey,” he leans against the counter, smiling at you.

You glance over your shoulder and ignore him (again). 'This guy again?' You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time this week.

You should have listened to your friend when she said he’s going to keep coming by until you decide to accept going on a date with him or not.

It's been a never-ending cycle with him, but you can also admit that you're not completely upset over the attention he's been giving you… which makes no sense.

But, as you tell her, you like to make it fair by teasing him back.

You know, treat people the way you want to be treated, to which your best friend gives you the oddest look.

The more you think about it, the funnier it gets because he could say the most unheard of lines that come to him naturally, leaving your brain fried because no guy has given you the same attention he does.

But the funny part is when you use one of your lines on him, they leave him to be the quiet mess. It doesn't happen often but you can't lie, you love when it does.

"Same time next week?"

He crosses his arms and leans forward. "You know me so well."

You hum, clicking on the schedule to add him in. "I like to think I'm good at my job but sure."

"You're more than good."

You glance up at him from your lashes. "So, you keep saying."

"And I mean it every time, maybe more than the last." He lets his lips curve upward to smirk, loving the fact that he has your attention right now.

You avoid looking back at him, not wanting him to see the effect he has on you.

You wait for him to leave so you can focus and finish your shift but he’s making it harder for you to concentrate.

“Are my dazzling good looks distracting to you?”

You scoff, turning back to him. “You wish.”

And there it is.

“You know how much you flirt with me, you’d think you would have made more progress by now.”

“Oh, believe me. I’ve made the right amount.”

You roll your eyes and push your chair back. “Well seeing as it’s my lunch break-”

“Let me take you out.”

“What?”

“I- let me take you out.”

You furrow your brows. “I don’t know.”

“It’ll be to make up for all the flirting you pretend to hate.”

“Sounds tempting.”

“I knew it would. I’ll take you anywhere you want?”

“Anywhere?”

He internally starts panicking, thinking about how he’s barely got ten dollars to his name, finding the extra cash they left behind was worth a little more than he expected.

He’s lucky to be alive right now after all the surgeries.

Goddamn, greedy son of a-

-

“Here?” You dragged him to a mom and pop shop.

You stare at the sign with a soft smile. “Yeah, right here is perfect.”

“Let’s go inside then?”

-

He looks around, wondering why you brought him here.

“The usual?” Your favorite waitress, Dottie asks.

You nod with a smile as she leads you to your favorite spot in the joint.

“You've been here before?” Santiago asks, wondering just how long you’ve been coming.

You shrug. “A few times.”

“Seems like more than a few,” he teases.

“What can I say? This place reminds me of home.”

He nods, stirring the sugar into the coffee. “What was that like?”

You pause, wondering if you heard him right. “What?”

“What was your home like? Your childhood, cringey teenage years. I want to hear it all,” he glances down, stirring the little creamer he added to his coffee.

You pause, unsure of how to proceed here. “What- what do you mean?”

He glances up, catching your nervous gaze. “I want to hear about what you were like in your younger years.”

“You want to hear more?” You ask with a confused pout.

He nods, sipping his coffee.

You gulp, “how long do you have?”

“I got as long as you’ll keep me sitting here. Hence, the coffee.”

The corner of your lips twitch. “You planned on opening me up, huh?”

He nods, pinching his thumb and index finger together to say a little bit.

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. “You had this planned since you got in the car, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

You chuckle through your nose at his nonchalant behavior. “You just want to break me down and interrogate me, don’t you?”

He shakes his head, giving you his full attention. “No, I want to get to know you. Believe me, there’s a difference.”

You perk up in your seat. “Well then, Mr. Interrogator, why don’t you ask me a question and I give you an answer but only if you’ll do the same?”

He shrugs, “I don’t see why not?”

You smile, “good. Now…”

-

You two stay until your Dottie tells you they’re about to lock up, leaving you to drive him back to his friend's place.

“I had a good time.”

You don’t want him to leave.

“So did I.”

You glance away from him, unable to keep eye contact with him anymore. “I- can we do this again sometime?”

He smiles, loving how nervous you are and can’t hold eye contact with him. He leans in, cupping your cheek; his eyes switching between your eyes and your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You take a deep breath and let out a quiet mumble, “uh huh.”

He leans in, leaving enough space for you to back out.

You cup his cheeks and pull him closer, practically over the gear shift. You part from the other to breathe. “Wow.”

“Told you I’d be worth it.”

You scoff and shove his shoulder, “and there goes all the progress we made this evening.”

He smirks, “I don’t think so. I think this just proved I’m able to keep up with you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “get out before I kick you out.”

“That’s not nice to say to your new boyfriend.”

You let out a surprised scoff.  “Someone’s optimistic.”

“I have one foot in the door, excuse me for being a little cocky.”

You shake your head, making sure he gets in before you take off.

-

The smile doesn’t come off your face for the rest of the evening.

Your cheeks hurt more when you look at your phone and see your text notification pop up and your best friend's name pops up before his text.

HottoTrot24

“I told you you wouldn’t regret giving him a shot” Sent Read 10:34pm

“I’m happy you finally decided to do something about it” Sent Read 10:34pm

Santiago … *delete name* Santi

Santi typing…

“Wanted to tell you gnight” Sent Read 10:36pm

Santi’sGirl

“Go to sleep you dork, get some rest. You need it after today” Sent Read 10:39pm

Santi

“I wanted to say gnight first and… Don’t forget to dream of me” Sent Read 10:41pm

You roll your eyes as your cheeks hurt.

There was no way you weren’t already smitten with this man, he wormed his way into your heart and mind without you realizing it… and you don’t care.

[munson-blurbs]

IT'S SPOOOPY HALLOWEENIE!

Dum-Dum.* Kit Kat. Eddie.

*"I don't know what that is" - in an Australian accent.

Idiots in love/Artist!Reader/Eddie Munson

Warnings: drug use (weed), reader can be read as gender neutral, mention of Billy Hargrove, sitting on Eddie's lap

WC: 778

Divider credit to @saradika (also, Dum-Dums are a brand of lollipop)

Knock knock.

The sound of someone at the door startles you, drawing your attention from your unfinished sketch and to the curly-haired boy clutching a piece of paper in his ringed hand.

“Sorry, uh,” Eddie says with a nervous laugh, “didn’t mean to scare you.” When you don’t reply, he looks around the otherwise-empty classroom. “Is now a bad time, or…?”

You gather your thoughts, heart pounding a mile a minute at the sudden interruption. “N-No, you’re fine,” you stammer. God, he’s so cute. Cheeks tinged red with bashfulness, free hand shoved into his back pocket, frizzy curls brushing against his denim-clad shoulders. “Something I can help you with?” you ask when he remains standing in place.

“Oh! Um, yeah.” He shuffles over to you, as though reminding himself to put one foot in front of the other. “You draw, right? Like, sketches and stuff?” He winces at his stilted attempt at an opening, especially given the fact that your sketchbook is open right in front of you.

“Mhm.”

“Cool.” Eddie nods. “Could I ask you to draw this? It’s for my uncle’s birthday next month.” He hands you the photo, and your heart instantly melts. It’s a picture of him and who you assume is his uncle, and Eddie can’t be much older than ten years old. He’s wearing a blue shirt with an S in a diamond hastily drawn on the front. A faded red towel is tied around his neck in a makeshift cape. The older man stands behind him, half a KitKat bar hanging from his lips like a cigarette. “It was my first Halloween with him.” The first time I ever celebrated Halloween, actually, he thinks, but keeps that information to himself.

You carefully study the photo, careful not to leave fingerprints on it, even though there’s already a smudge in the corner. “I, uh, I don’t know what those stains are,” Eddie mumbles. “I can’t offer a lot of money, but if you smoke…” he mimics taking a pull from a joint, “I can hook you up for free.”

“You sure?” You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t want you getting in trouble or anything.”

Eddie dismisses the notion with a wave. “What’s he gonna do, call the cops?”

“Fair enough,” you agree with a smile.

You hadn’t realized that when Eddie had offered to smoke you up for free, he’d meant smoking with him. Over the next few weeks, any free time that wasn’t spent drawing the photo of him and his uncle–whose name was Wayne, you’d learned–you spent with him in a haze of marijuana. Sharing giggles, splitting family bags of potato chips when the munchies inevitably hit, snuggling up on his couch and sleepily watching sitcom reruns consumed your afternoons. To an outsider’s perspective, it looked like you two were together. Truthfully, you had no idea what you and Eddie’s status was.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” you sit up suddenly, shifting under the blanket and reaching for your backpack. “I finished this last night.”

Eddie’s bloodshot eyes go wide, and you swear that their glassiness is fueled by more than just pot. “This is…wow,” he breathes out, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is even better than I imagined.” He doesn’t know the technical terms for what you’ve done, but you’ve perfectly captured their enthused expressions, the joy in their eyes evident even just through pencil shading. “You’re amazing.”

And maybe it’s the compliment, or the high, or the way he’s been nestled into you for the last forty minutes, but you tilt his head towards yours and kiss him. Your mouths collide clumsily, and he seems shocked at first, but he quickly eases himself into it to deepen it. One hand cups your cheek while the other pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling his lithe waist. 

“Wanted to do this for a long time,” he murmurs into you, not wanting to fully break the kiss. “Ever since I first saw you, I thought you were so goddamn pretty.”

“I’ve had a crush on you since you jumped on the cafeteria table and called Billy Hargrove out for leading all those poor girls on,” you admit with a laugh. “He turned bright red.”

Eddie inhales, shrugging his shoulders haphazardly. “Earned myself a pretty little black eye for that.” His nose nudges yours as he leans in to kiss you again. “But it was totally worth it if it meant you noticed me.”

You pull back slightly, taking in his beautiful brown eyes, the tiny patch of stubble where he’d missed shaving, the flyaway hairs on his temple. “Can I keep noticing you?”

“I’d be sad if you stopped.”

--

[seokminkisser]

LAVENDER HAZE.

pairing: lee chan x fem!reader

word count: 1.9k words

genre: fluff, suggestive

tags: PININGGGG, reader and chan have a lot of tension, marijuana use, suggestive content and alluding to sex afterwards

a/n: finally got around to writing my stoner chan fic yay! smoke responsibly loves (@sunnylovespickles i hope you enjoy it bub)

yeri was going to be dead meat the minute you found her.

the problem did not lie in the fact that she had decided to ditch you at the hang out, you both had enough trust and faith in each other to mingle and socialize on your own. the problem lay in the fact that she had decided to ditch you to have a very long talk with her ex-girlfriend? situationship?

you didn’t even have time to give her an earful as she left the room giving you her pleading “just give us five minutes” look as doyeon led her away. she was a lost cause.

there weren’t many people gathered at jeonghan’s house but the living room still felt incredibly stuffy. a few people had decided to hotbox earlier and poor you had arrived at the party too late to join, the lingering smoke gave you an incredible case of fomo.

“hi pretty.”

your head lolled back making contacts with the prettiest boy in the room.

“hi channie.”

a lazy grin spreads on chan’s face as he moves around the couch to sit next to you, an arm resting on the backrest of the couch behind your head. you wanted to eat him alive.

“when did you get here?” you ask, your finger tracing the rim of your glass as you look at him. he adjusts himself on the couch, legs spreading a bit wider while his free hand rummages in his jacket pocket.

“like ten minutes ago? had to make the rounds a bit before i could come spend time with the prettiest girl in the room.” he says giving you a sly wink, his rummaging coming to a stop.

your scoff turns into a slight giggle and you hit his arm the minute the last few words come out his mouth. something about chan turned you into a giddy middle schooler even though you hadn’t been in middle school in years.

your relationship with chan was unnecessarily complicated. you were attracted to him on a level you could not even comprehend and you knew he felt the same. he took care of your weed needs and you baked him matcha cookies whenever he craved them. and yet, neither of you had taken any steps to crossing the line that kept your friendship as it was. just friendship.

“you’re such a sweet talker chan, i might get sick.”

“let me make it up to you then pretty,” chan laughs and pulls something out of his jacket pocket, “remember that video you sent me?”

you couldn’t help the squeal you let out as you pluck the three pale pink joints out of his hand. “chan do you know that you are the best and most perfect person i have ever met.” you say as cross your legs, laying the joints on your exposed thigh as delicately as possible.

“yeri better not hear that or she will have my head on a silver platter.” he grins as his eyes follow the movement of your hands resting on your thigh now. at the mention of your best friend’s name you roll your eyes and give chan a big pout.

“aww did she leave you all on your own again? poor baby. but its okay i’m here now and i’ll take care of you.”

you grin at chan and nod. “exactly, you’re here now and you brought me my favorite things.”

his smile reaches his eyes as he poked your arm. “favorite things huh? didn’t know you liked something more than free weed.”

“obviously that something is you.”

“yeah?” he murmurs, his fingertips gently touching your arm as if to test the waters. you welcome his touch, slowly inching your body closer towards him. chan takes this as a sign that he wasn’t doing too much, his upper body turning to face you better. your shoulders are touching and his free hand comes to rest on your thigh picking up one of the joints.

in the process his finger grazes your thigh and your breath hitches. his touch felt absolutely electrifying.

chan leans forward slowly, his lips softly grazing your ear as he whispers, “you gonna let me smoke you out pretty?”

your eyes flutter shut as he presses the softest kiss on the side of your neck.

“yeah, channie. would let you do anything.”

he pulls away, a twinkle in his eye as he stands up. “come on then, think jeonghan’s living room is a bit too crowded for what i have planned for you pretty.”

—

chan could already sense the pretty pout on your face as he leads you into jeonghan’s kitchen. if it were up to him he would have already found an empty room, thrown you in and had his way with you, but he promised to smoke you out and he always kept his promises.

“why did you bring me here channie, i thought we were gonna smoke.” you pout and he turns to you and motions for you to sit on the counter.

“and we will pretty, but i have to make sure you have something to drink and something to eat for after. told you i’m gonna take care of you.”

your pout turns into the prettiest smile he has ever seen as you kick your legs back and forth. “have i told you you’re the biggest sweet talker ever channie?” you smile, your fingers fiddling with the golden lighter on your lap. a lighter he had gifted to you weeks ago.

chan smiles, nodding softly as he turns towards the cupboards as he basically ransacks through jeonghan’s kitchen.

chan thinks it’s okay though because the amount of money jeonghan owes chan on account of his frequent acts of freeloading on chan’s weed stash makes chan’s snack ‘borrowing’ tendencies pale in comparison.

“mhm only for you pretty,” he says, grabbing a bottle of chilled water and a few snickers bars, your absolute favorite. he turns back to you and he is afraid he might melt on the spot.

the dim light in the kitchen illuminated you in a way that made you look absolutely angelic. he could feel his heart skip a beat, then another before his eyes moved to your exposed thighs.

you were softly scratching a nail across your skin, the scratching more akin to a soft caress along your inner thigh. it was a habit you have always had and it was one of the reasons he loved it when you wore short skirts. usually, he imagined it was his own fingers stroking your thigh.

and if god loved him, he wouldn’t have to imagine for much longer.

“come on let’s go outside,” he motions for the door and you hop off the counter trailing behind him.

it’s chilly outside, the warmth of the august air had dissipated and chan led you to the lawn chairs in jeonghan’s backyard. you sat down, legs crossing over each other and chan took the chair next to you, quietly moving it a bit closer to yours.

he hopes it’s not too obvious.

on your lips sits a little smile as you look down on your legs before holding up the golden lighter. “look! i told you i wouldn’t lose it.”

he smiles again, god knows he is unable to not smile around you, taking out the joint and placing it between his lips. “i’m proud of you baby.” he says and he barely catches the way your twinkle at the pet name. but he is so glad that he does.

you hand him the lighter but all he does is lean his head down, an indirect way of telling you to light it for him.

you bite your lip softly, delicately, as you place the lighter under the joint and chan’s head swims with images of biting your lip the same way.

softly.

delicately.

your fingers fumble a bit with the spark wheel of the lighter as you light the joint and you lock eyes. chan does not break the steady eye contact as he takes a slow drag of the joint, taking a slow exhale.

you break the eye contact first, coughing softly as you settle into the lawn chair.

“i can’t believe you actually got me a lavender joint just because i sent you that video. you didn’t have to you know?”

chan takes another drag before handing the joint to you and you take it gladly, inhaling.

“wanted to make you happy, you seemed so excited to try it.” he mumbles, playing with the zipper on his jacket. “and besides, i’ve never tried combining lavender with weed and i also wanted to try it out for myself.”

you nod taking another pull as chan has an inner battle with himself.

should he give you his jacket? it is the gentlemanly thing to do and chan wanted to impress you but he also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable but he is also sure that you wouldn’t have a problem with it but he doesn’t know if he should take it slow and—

“what are you thinking so hard about channie.”

he looks over to you, a dopey smile settled on your face, legs tucked under you on the chair. he shakes his head and you motion for him to come closer, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

“if you want to kiss me, you know you can just do it.”

chan pulls away faster than lightening and you giggle at his reaction, shrugging. “i’m just saying, we have been dancing around each other for weeks now and the lavender in this joint is making me really really high really quickly so i wanna say it before i’m too far gone.”

you giggle again at the blush that started to spread on his cheek and you nudge him with your elbow. “why, you don’t wanna kiss me?” you ask, and chan sees as you start to sober up as his silence might indicate a rejection.

“fuck, of course i want to kiss you.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

at that chan stills. what exactly was stopping him? he wanted you, you wanted him and earlier he had acted to damn confident. where did that confidence go?

“okay channie,” you say leaning in close to him as your free hand comes to rest on his cheek. his breath hitches as your face comes close, the tip of your nose touching his. “i’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

he nods, slowly as if his body was stuck in a daze and you finally lean forward closing the distance between you.

holy fucking shit.

the minute your lips touch, chan feels fireworks exploding in his chest and he’s scared his heart might come to a stop. he had imagined this moment so many times but reality couldn’t even come even close to his dreams.

your lips tasted like your favorite raspberry lip balm, the sprite you had earlier, the weed you had shared.

you deepen the kiss, tilting your head to the side and chan takes your face between his hands trying to pull you as close as physically possible. a whimper escapes your lips as you let chan lead the kiss and he thinks if he dies right now his soul will be forever damned, damned to a lifetime of kissing you.

you pull away, trying to catch your breath and chan isn’t better off.

“holy shit.”

chan nods in agreement, and you take his hand standing up from the chair, joint long forgotten. “where are we going to?” he asks, standing up with you and you grin up at him.

“you can’t fuck me in jeonghan’s backyard, that’s a bit too kinky for me.”

the moment these words leave your lips, chan's already dragging your laughing figure back into the house and praying to the lord above jeonghan still had a box of condoms in his bathroom.