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#movie: the cutting edge 3
evie-sturns · 19 days
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ignore - Matt Sturniolo
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summary: you've been in a mood all day, ignoring matt and giving him little attention, you won't tell him what's wrong so he has to fuck the answers out of you.
contains: smut, arguing, crying, swearing, rough!matt, slight overstimulation.
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i've been pissed and emotional all day, i'm not even sure what for anymore, everything that people do is pushing me to my limits, especially my boyfriend, matt.
3:39pm
"c'mon we've gotta go." matt says, tapping my arm as i sit with my arms folded on the edge of matts bed. "i'm not going!" i raise my voice at matt, my eyebrows raised as i roll my eyes.
"chris and nick are waiting for us, we've booked the top golf session, we are going its for the celebration of nicks brand come on." matt says with a dad like tone.
i shake my head, "i don't want to, my head hurts." i say in a whiny tone, somehow on the verge of tears, matt lets out an exhausted sigh, tears start to fall down my cheek as i rub my eyes.
"why are you crying." matt says in a calm tone with a sigh. "go away!" i groan, matt walks out of the room shaking his head, he closes the door behind him.
"i don't know whats going on with her, im sorry nick." i hear him say to his brothers outside the door, i sniffle as i flop down on the bed behind me.
6:12pm
i've been enjoying the empty house by myself for the past few hours, i hear the triplets pull into the driveway before knocking on the door, i unlock the door and they all walk in, i give nick a hug, before asking chris how it went. he instantly starts to yap about his golf shots.
after a handful of minutes chris decides we should all watch a movie, matt tries saying something to me but i simply ignore him,
"y/n." matt repeats himself, i shoot him a side eye before continuing to speak to chris.
nick and chris pile onto the couch, matt sits down on the other side of the plush couch, i walk over to matt, sitting down on his lap and laying down against him, my back pressed against his torso and the back of my head resting on his shoulder.
matts chest rises and falls with each breath, lifting me up and down subtly.
9:29
the movie has been playing for over 3 hours, i've shifted around slightly against matt a couple of times, but haven't said anything to him.
i let out a heavy sigh matt taps my waist before whispering in my ear "please talk to me, you've been acting very off today."
i scoff "i've been acting off?" i whisper back, an attitude clear in my voice.
"yes you have, been acting like that, bratty." matt replies, i stay silent after that.
"talk to me about it." he says again, i shake my head no.
the closing scene of the movie finishes, chris and nick get up, "im headed to bed, see you guys in the morning." chris says with a yawn, "bye chris!" i say chirpily.
nick stands up, "see you!" he says running over and hugging me before leaving the living room.
matt and i sit in silence for a minute or so before matt pushes me off his lap, "come with me." matt says, i stare straight into his eyes, not moving nor speaking.
"come. with. me." matt raises his voice, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to his bedroom. he slams the door and locks it vigourously.
i sit down on the edge of his bed, fiddling with my nails. matt storms over to me, picking me up then throwing me back down on the bed, i fall straight on my back, my head landing in his pillows, one specific pillow having a stupid pug on it.
matt rips off his cute crewneck sweater, my eyes drawn to his tattooed arms.
his two hands firmly grip the waistband of my sweatpants, before yanking them and my panties down in one go. he unbuttons his jeans before pulling me by my ankles towards the edge of the bed.
"matt-" i start, he cuts me off, "dont start."
his boxers drop to the floor before he stands at the edge of the bed, i wrap my legs around his waist. matt stares into my eyes, asking for permission, i stay silent, just staring into his eyes.
"use your words and tell me what the fuck you want." he almost demands, his right hand now firmly gripping my waist.
i can't deny the fact i need him, the sudden switch in mood turns me on, along side matt being angry which he is never like, hes never fucked me while hes mad.
"just fuck me then if your so desperate." i mumble, matt lets out an exasperated laugh before lining himself up with me, slamming into me, his tip bruising my cervix.
i let out a yelp, "fuck!" matt starts to pound in and out of me, not showing signs of slowing down.
he grips my waist with both hands, his fingers digging into my skin as small grunts fall from matts lips.
the sounds coming out of me echo throughout the room, resulting in matt slamming a hand over my mouth, the cold metal of his rings pressing against my cheek.
"gonna act like this whole day? think you can act like that?" matt breathes out, his left hand which is still firmly placed on my waist tightens. matts breathing picks up,
im starting to consider always acting like 'this' so that matt fucks me like this again, i dont think ive ever had better sex in my life.
he repeatedly hits a spot inside of me which is driving me closer, and closer to my orgasm.
"awnser. me." matt says, staring into my squinted eyes, he removes his hand from my mouth, reaching down and brushing my clit.
"i- i didn't mean to" i say cluelessly, my mind completely fogged as i clench around him.
the pit in my stomach realeases as i orgasm, matts thrusts stop, after all this not wanting to overstimulate me.
"gonna talk to me now sweetheart?" matt says his voice soft but his breaths heavy.
i scoff with an eye roll, matt raises his eyebrows before thrusting into me again, i wince, "sensitive.." i say as matt presses on my clit, he starts to thrust again, waiting for me to speak.
i let out loud moans as matt starts to pick up his thrusts "please-" i groan, "matt-"
"i'm sorry- fuck" i say, my thighs dropping from his waist and squeezing together, matt pulls out, finishing with a whimper and painting my stomach with white streaks.
"oh my god-.." i groan, covering my forehead with my arms as i wipe away the few tears that fell from intensity.
"are you okay?" matt says, picking me up off the bed and carrying me towards the bathroom.
i hum in response, "was it too much? did i hurt you?" matt asks, worry in his voice as he places me down on the edge of his bath.
he bends down between my thighs, dabbing a towel gently against my skin. he walks out of the room, shortly coming back now wearing sweatpants and a white wifebeater tank top.
he brings me over the shorts i was wearing previously, and one of his black shirts. he pulls them onto me gently, his cold finger tips brushing against my skin.
he picks me up again, carrying me over to his bed and flicking off the overhead light, leaving his dim lamp on which illuminates the room just enough. he lays down on the bed, i lay ontop of him.
we lay in silence for about a minute before matt breaks it "are you okay? i mean you've seemed really off today and i should've talked with ya." matt says, running a hand through his hair.
"im sorry." i sigh, "no no, don't say that." matt replies instantly, "i'm not actually sure whats going on, i think i'm just a bit hungry" i say quietly,
matt laughs, "i did all of that for you to just be hungry?" he jokes, rubbing his eyes with a smile as his ears go red.
"i don't know!!" i laugh back, matt wraps his arms around my waist as i lay on top of him.
i suddenly spring up, "i'll be right back." i say, jogging out of the room towards nicks room, i knock twice before opening the door, nicks laying on the bed on his phone,
"you okay?" nick asks, i walk over to him, giving him a hug.
"im really sorry about not coming to topgolf nick, i was in a mood and i am extremely happy about your brand."
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abbyshands · 3 months
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Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)
teach me
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└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3
synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3
wc; 2.2k
p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it
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you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.
your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.
that's where abby came in.
abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.
let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.
you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.
not only that, the focus.
how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?
you weren't.
but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.
it was a demand.
you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.
abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.
"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"
no.
"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.
but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.
"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.
“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.
“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.
“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.
abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.
“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.
“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.
“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.
“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.
“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.
“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”
“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.
but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.
“a- abby, please, c’mon,” you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?
wrong.
because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?
smack.
abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.
because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.
“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.
“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?
“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”
doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”
abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.
to some degree.
but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”
abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.
“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.
“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.
"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.
but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.
"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"
"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.
"too bad."
abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.
"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.
and she doesn't like your words.
abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.
once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"
you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."
"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.
this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.
"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.
"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.
"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.
and fill with butterflies.
“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.
“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.
"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?
it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.
even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”
“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.
"there’s my smart girl.”
and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.
your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.
"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.
and you hadn’t even finished yet.
"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.
"look on the good side.”
“you'll remember better now, won't you?"
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
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puddingyun · 3 months
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tone . ݁₊ ⊹ k.hj
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hongjoong x reader
18+ mdni
: 985 words, smut, auralism/voice kink, fingering, some dirty talk :
day 5 of fff24 (catching up since i got sick (╥ᆺ╥;)) ♡
"I'm sorry I'm so late, baby."
Hongjoong's voice pulled you out of the light sleep you'd fallen into. A smile played on your lips as you felt your boyfriend crawl into bed behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close. 
"I got so caught up I didn't realise what time it was," he whispered. He didn't sound sleepy at all, even though when you opened your eyes to squint at your phone the screen displayed a staggering 3:00 AM. You hummed softly as one of Hongjoong's hands slid up your pyjama top to rest against your stomach. "I'm sorry for waking you up."
"It's okay. Your feet are cold," you mumbled, which made Hongjoong giggle behind you. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and tangled his feet even more with yours, pulling you both flush together. "Keep talking, Joongie."
"Okay," Hongjoong murmured, his fingers moving back and forth against your skin. "I missed you all day. Missed hearing you talk, and your footsteps around the apartment. I kept wondering what you were up to. What did you get up to, hon?"
Your mind was so fuzzy from listening to Hongjoong talk that you almost forgot to reply. 
"Uhm," you stalled, pressing your thighs together as you tried to remember what you did while Hongjoong was out. "I finished some work in the morning after you left and in the afternoon I watched a movie... Some supernatural thing, like a rip-off of The Ring."
"Just a typical day, huh?" Hongjoong hummed, stretching his fingers out to let his pinky rest beneath the waistband of your panties. When you mumbled out a soft 'uh-huh', Hongjoong exhaled quietly, amused by your sleepy voice. You felt butterflies fill your stomach at the sound of it. "Mine was the same, just finishing things up and brainstorming new- hey, baby, why're you squirming so much?"
"Nothing," you huffed softly, though you could feel your cheeks heating up when he called you out. Hongjoong grunted, a small sound that told you he didn't really believe your reply, and then sighed so that his breath fanned out over the back of your neck. "Just finish telling me about your day?"
"Okay, well... I've been picking up the guitar more often. Maybe tomorrow I'll show you the songs I've learned," he rambled on, not pausing to mention the way you were almost constantly shifting your thighs, seeking friction to accompany the warmth growing between your legs at the sound of Hongjoong's voice. "...I was going to get an energy drink but one of the staff members kept going on about how they aren't good for you so I ended up getting a coffee instead. But then later on I saw Wooyoungie with one and nobody was telling him to be careful so I don't know what that was about."
You made a non-committal sound in response, trying to pretend like you were listening when in reality Hongjoong's words were all getting muddled in your head, blurred around the edges and scratching an itch you hadn't noticed was there.
"Baby?" Hongjoong's voice called softly. 
"Hm?" you replied, pouting at his voice coming to a stop even if it was just to call you a petname. 
"Are you getting off on this?" he asked, and this time you could hear a smirk in his voice. You stuttered, trying to come up with a believable answer, but Hongjoong cut you off with a giggle. "It's okay. You're cute. Want me to finish telling you about my day?"
You paused, weighing up your embarrassment against your desire to deal with the sudden wave of arousal so you could get back to sleep. Eventually, the latter won out, and you relaxed in Hongjoong's hold again. 
"Yes please," you murmured, feeling like you were asking for a bedtime story. Hongjoong's lips pressed against your shoulder in a feverish kiss before he resumed his earlier ramblings.
This time, as he spoke, his hand slowly moved beneath your panties. When his fingers came into contact with the wetness on your lips his breath hitched momentarily, then his fingers began rubbing circles against your clit with just enough pressure to make your breathing uneven. 
"And then we had a meeting to try on some new stage outfits, they got us fitted and everything... The colours seemed sorta off to me but they said that under the stage lights and all of that it'd look fine," he mumbled, his voice slowly becoming rougher around the edges as your arousal became more evident. Your shaky breaths turned into hushed moans, skin tingling everywhere that Hongjoong touched and the pool of arousal in your stomach getting dangerously close to spilling over. 
You felt two of his fingers press into you, and as he bent them inside of you his palm rubbed against your clit, making you groan into your pillow. A soft nip to your shoulder made you gasp, Hongjoong's teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark. 
"You're so fucking cute. I come home and don't even say anything dirty to you and here you are, making a mess on my fingers," he mumbled against your skin, his fingers picking up their pace. "All I have to do is talk to you about my day and you're rubbing your thighs together trying to get off. You're so fucking precious."
The way the curse word rolled off of his tongue was enough to push you over the edge, clenching around his fingers as you came hard. Behind you Hongjoong trailed a line of kisses along your skin, lips curved into a smile the whole time. 
Once your breathing had slowed back down Hongjoong gave your waist a tight squeeze.
"Let me get you some water baby," he whispered, kissing your temple as he got up. "Then I'll let you get back to sleep." 
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stevie-petey · 11 days
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episode one: suzie, do you copy?
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”  Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”
Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 9.6k
Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !
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June 27th, 1985.
A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.
In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.
The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,
It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.
There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.
Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.
As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”
You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”
“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.
“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”
Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”
You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.
“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.
Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”
“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”
“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”
His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”
“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”
You gasp. “You’re lying!”
“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”
“What about Mike and El?”
“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”
Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”
Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”
“Please? I could be poor soon!”
“No, it’s not going to happen–”
“But–”
A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.
It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.
Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”
She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”
“Hello to you too, Henderson.”
You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”
“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.
Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”
Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”
You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.
“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.
“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”
Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”
Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”
“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”
“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”
Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”
You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”
Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”
Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”
“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.
“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.
Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.
He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”
Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”
You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.
Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”
You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”
Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.
When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.
The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”
But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.
In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.
A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.
The phone rings.
“Right on time, honey.”
“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.
Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.
Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.
“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.
Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”
“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.
“You two are the worst together.”
“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”
“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”
Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“And yet you stay.” You tease.
“And yet I stay.”
You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.
The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkin’s pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.
It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.
By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.
It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.
Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.
Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”
“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”
The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”
You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”
“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”
The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”
She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.
Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.
You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?
At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.
Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”
“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.
There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”
You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”
Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”
Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”
Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”
“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”
“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”
Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”
You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.
The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.
You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.
“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”
Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”
“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.
You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.
“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.
Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”
You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.
Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”
You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.
Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”
Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”
He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”
Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”
You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.
Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.
Seems it’s time for their movie.
You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”
“Ow, Y/N!”
“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”
Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”
“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”
Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”
Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”
“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.
You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”
“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.
However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”
You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”
Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.
Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”
Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.
Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.
“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.
“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.
“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?
You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”
Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.
Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”
You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.
However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.
When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.
She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.
Robin, however, clearly has other plans.
“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.
“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”
“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.
Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”
Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”
“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”
“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”
She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”
“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”
“Okay, so what?”
“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”
Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”
“Technically I dumped her–”
“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.
Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”
Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”
“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.
“Harrington!”
There it is.
“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”
Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don’t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”
Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”
Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.
You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.
After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”
Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.
It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.
It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.
Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”
Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.
Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”
“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.
“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”
“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.
Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”
Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.
You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”
Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”
The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.
Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.
“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.
“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.
Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”
“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.
Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”
The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”
“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.
Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”
You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”
Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.
Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.
“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.
You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”
“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.
“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.
A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”
Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”
“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.
“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”
You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”
Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”
“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”
You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.
As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”
Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”
“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.
“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.
You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”
“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”
“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”
You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”
From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.
Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”
“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.
“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”
The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”
“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”
The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”
“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.
The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”
“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.
“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.
“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”
Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”
“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.
“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”
Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”
“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”
“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.
“Since when?”
“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”
Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”
“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”
Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”
Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”
For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.
Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.
You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.
“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.
Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”
“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.
You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”
“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.
“You’re dating a Mormon?”
Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”
“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.
Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”
“Scary people–”
Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”
“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”
“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”
“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.
Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”
“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.
“But they were also star crossed lovers.”
“Who killed themselves.”
Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”
You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”
“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.
Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”
“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.
With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”
Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”
You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”
“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.
“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.
Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”
“It’s gross!” Will voices again.
You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”
“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”
You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”
Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”
Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.
You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.
“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.
“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.
“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.
At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”
“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.
You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”
“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.
Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.
Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dusin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.
“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.
“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”
No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.
Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”
More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.
You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.
“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”
“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.
“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.
Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.
Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”
“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”
“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.
Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”
“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.
Dustin gasps. “She exists!”
“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”
Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. “I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”
“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”
Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”
“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”
Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”
“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.
“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”
“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.
Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”
Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”
Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”
“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.
You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”
“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.
As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”
His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.
“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”
Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.
He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”
You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”
“Russian.” Dustin whispers.
Everything changes, then.
You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.
“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”
He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.
You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.
When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.
“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”
“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.
Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”
Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”
Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.
He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”
Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”
You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”
“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.
“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I… I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”
“Y/N, are you in danger–”
“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”
“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.
Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”
“Anytime, angel. You know that.”
And you do.
Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.
-
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482 notes · View notes
churipu · 3 months
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FIRST EVER REQUEST. WOOHOO!!
Id like to request jjk men with a reader that has atrociously long hair, like super duper long hair please.
(eg. do some get mad becuz the hair is everywhere. Do some help you make your hair)
I hope your taking care of yourself and staying healthy and hydrated <3 mwah mwah
JJK MEN + PARTNER WHO HAS LONG HAIR
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featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, choso kamo x reader
warnings. cursing (toji)
note. hi nonnieee, congrats on your first request mwah mwah. as a person who used to have ATROCIOUSLY long hair — some people weren't happy, including me (which is why i decided to chop it off >:() and nonnie baby, i hope you're also taking care of yourself <33 also, i'm gonna be closing the requests as of now while i try to finish the other requests, and it will be opened back if everything is done! thank you.
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GOJO SATORU. loves your hair, no questions asked. he loves playing with your hair if you both are just chilling in the house, the male always tries to look up easy hairstyles to do for beginners — which never ends up good.
gojo once got your hair stuck in a brush because he was too focused in watching the tutorial, and he contemplated chopping your hair off. but you threatened him, and so he spent approximately one and a half hour to untangle your hair.
after that day, he never tried a new hairstyle in fear of doing something wrong again. but he still and does play with your hair, twirling it around his slender fingers and caressing it — sometimes he helps you with drying your hair after a shower, and he helps on your hair care routine.
"so i just put the tonic on? how much should i put? four dose of pipettes?" he asks you, looking at the small pipette in confusion.
"baby, no— just four squeezes are enough." you informed, a bit worried about your hair now; but the male did extremely well, even giving your scalp a quick massage.
"did i do good? can i do it again next time, please please?" he asks you, pulling you into his chest, "it's fun, i'm like your personal hairdresser."
you rolled your eyes, "sure, sure. free of charge, right?"
the male rolled his eyes, "of course not, there's a price to it. i get a kiss after, one for the tonic, one for the massage. deal?" he proposed, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.
"i like that deal. deal."
TOJI FUSHIGURO. he hates it. on certain occasions — absolutely despises your hair when you're both cuddling, it gets into his face, his eyes, his mouth, everywhere where he doesn't want it to be. but out of that, he's perfectly fine with it.
"ah, fuck— doll, 'm going to cut your hair one of these days and make it look like an accident," he groans out, gently brushing your hair aside as your back was pressed onto his chest.
"cut my hair, and i'll cut this relationship short."
toji chuckles, pressing a light kiss on the area between your neck and shoulder, "you're mean," he mumbles into your skin.
as much as he said he'd cut it (as a joke), he'd find your hair really fun to play with sometimes; and his fingers would reach out to the edges of your hair, playing with it while his eyes are focused elsewhere. during movie nights, he'd be unaware of his lingering fingers in your hair as he watches; you didn't mind though, letting his hand just roam in your hair until the movie ends.
the male looks intrigued by your hair care routine, toji would always be there to watch you put care into your hair. sometimes offering to do it, and when he messes up he asks you to take over because he was scared of ruining your beautiful hair.
"ah, shit. i can't do it baby, you take over." he mutters out in annoyance, sliding the hair tonic over to you after failing to pump in the right amount of liquid into the pipette from his strong grip.
the male looks up hairstyles and sends the link to you, asking: "can you try this hairstyle, wanna see you in it." and is never disappointed with the result.
he makes himself the small spoon so your hair wouldn't get in his face — not that he's complaining, he likes being held by you.
"what're you doing, toji?" you asked in confusion, seeing the male curled up in bed.
"being the small spoon," he mumbles out.
and from then on, he is now the small spoon (he loves it, but would never admit it, telling you that it's just because of your hair).
CHOSO KAMO. he is the best at doing hairstyles, especially pig tails. choso is so delicate with your hair, treating every strand like they're his own. and he was the first one to offer to do your hair when he sees you slightly struggling with trying out a new hairstyle.
he would be independent to look up new hairstyles and come to you, asking if he could try doing your hair.
"hi y/n," he appears behind the bedroom door, peeking slightly with a small smile, "can i do your hair?"
when you tell him yes, he gets so happy and skips on the bed. telling you to sit down in front of him while he follows the tutorial patiently — and when he's done, he's always giddy to hear your reaction to his work. such a cutie.
"cho, this looks really pretty, thank you," you kissed his forehead, and the male shyly smiles at you.
choso sees you putting on a lot of things on your hair after a shower and he began looking up hair care routines on the internet, how to do them step by step, remembering everything so he could be the one doing your hair care routine for you.
"baby, baby! i wanna do your hair care routine," he tells you, tugging your hand with a smile on his face.
you, of course, let him. trusting him with it — and choso delivers perfectly, doing the steps you usually do with the right amount of things. it makes him really happy when you tell him thank you and awarded him with a kiss or two.
choso loves and adores your hair, he treats it like his own.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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turnstileskyline · 4 months
Text
The Oral History of Take This To Your Grave – transcription under the cut
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The pages that are just photographs, I haven't included. This post is already long enough.
Things that happened in 2003: Arnold Schwarzenegger became governor of California. Teen Vogue published its first issue. The world lost Johnny Cash. Johnny Depp appeared as Captain Jack Sparrow for the first time. A third Lord of the Rings movie arrived. Patrick Stump, Pete Wentz, Joe Trohman, and Andy Hurley released Take This To Your Grave.
"About 21 years ago or so, as I was applying to colleges I would ultimately never go to, Fall Out Boy began as a little pop-punk side project of what we assumed was Pete's more serious band, Arma Angelus," Patrick wrote in a May 2023 social media post.
"We were sloppy and couldn't solidify a lineup, but the three of us (Pete, Joe, and I) were having way too much fun to give up on it."
"We were really rough around the edges. As an example of how rough, one of my favorite teachers pulled me aside after hearing the recording that would eventually become Evening Out With Your Girlfriend and tactfully said, 'What do you think your best instrument is, Patrick? Drums. It's drums. Probably not singing, Patrick.'"
"We went into Smart Studios with the Sean O'Keefe... So, there we were, 3/5 of a band with a singer who'd only been singing a year, no drummer, and one out of two guitarists. But we had the opportunity to record with Sean at Butch Vig's legendary studio.
"Eight or so months later, Fueled by Ramen would give us a contract to record the remaining songs. We'd sleep on floors, eat nothing but peanut butter and jelly, live in a van for the next three years, and somehow despite that, eventually play with Elton John and Taylor Swift and Jay-Z and for President Obama and the NFC championship, and all these other wildly unpredictable things. But none of that would ever come close to happening if Andy hadn't made it to the session and Joe hadn't dragged us kicking and screaming into being a band."
Two decades after its release, Take This To Your Grave sits comfortable in the Top 10 of Rolling Stone's 50 Greatest Pop-Punk Albums, edging out landmark records from Buzzcocks, Generation X, Green Day, The Offspring, Blink-182, and The Ramones.
It even ranked higher than Through Being Cool by Saves The Day and Jersey's Best Dancers from Lifetime, two records the guys in Fall Out Boy particularly revere.
Fall Out Boy's proper full-length debut on Fueled by Ramen is a deceptively smart, sugar-sweet, raw, energetic masterpiece owing as much to the bass player's pop culture passions, the singers deep love of R&B and soul, and their shared history in the hardcore scene as any pioneering punk band. Fall Out Boy's creative and commercial heights were still ahead, but Take This To Your Grave kicked it off, a harbinger for the enduring songwriting partnership between Patrick Stump and Pete Wentz, the eclectic contributions from Joe Trohman, and the propulsive powerhouse that is Andy Hurley.
The recordings document a special moment when Fall Out Boy was big in "the scene" but a "secret" from the mainstream. The band (and some of their friends) first sat down for an Oral History (which doubled as an Oral History of their origin story) with their old friend Ryan J. Downey, then Senior Editor for Alternative Press, upon the occasion of the album's 10th anniversary. What follows is an updated, sharper, and expanded version of that story, newly re-edited in 2023. As Patrick eloquently said: "Happy 20th birthday, Take This To Your Grave, you weird brilliant lightning strike accident of a record."
– Ryan J. Downey.
A Weird, Brilliant Lightning Strike Of A Record. The Oral History Of Fall Out Boy's Take This To Your Grave.
As told by:
Patrick Stump
Pete Wentz
Joe Trohman
Andy Hurley
Bob McLynn - Crush Music
Sean O'Keefe - Producer/Mixer
John Janick - Fueled By Ramen
Tim McIlrath - Rise Against
Mani Mostofi - Racetraitor
Chris Gutierrez - Arma Angelus
Mark Rose - Spitalfield
Sean Muttaqi - Uprising Records
Rory Felton - The Militia Group
Richard Reines - Drive-Thru Records
"To Feel No More Bitterness Forever" - From Hardcore to Softcore, 1998-2000
PETE WENTZ: When I got into hardcore, it was about discovering the world beyond yourself. There was a culture of trying to be a better person. That was part of what was so alluring about hardcore and punk for me. But for whatever reason, it shifted. Maybe this was just in Chicago, but it became less about the thought process behind it and more about moshing and breakdowns. There was a close-mindedness that felt very reactive.
TIM MCILRITH: I saw First Born many years ago, which was the first time I saw Pete and met him around then. This was '90s hardcore - p.c., vegan, activist kind of hardcore music. Pete was in many of those bands doing that kind of thing, and I was at many of those shows. The hardcore scene in Chicago was pretty small, so everyone kind of knew each other. I knew Andy Hurley as the drummer in Racetraitor. I was in a band called Baxter, so Pete always called me 'Baxter.' I was just 'Baxter' to a lot of those guys.
JOE TROHMAN: I was a young hardcore kid coming to the shows. The same way we all started doing bands. You're a shitty kid who goes to punk and hardcore shows, and you see the other bands playing, and you want to make friends with those guys because you want to play in bands too. Pete and I had a bit of a connection because we're from the same area. I was the youngest dude at most shows. I would see Extinction, Racetraitor, Burn It Down, and all the bands of that era.
WENTZ: My driver's license was suspended then, so Joe drove me everywhere. We listened to either Metalcore like Shai Hulud or pop-punk stuff like Screeching Weasel.
MCILRITH: I was in a band with Pete called Arma Angelus. I was like their fifth or sixth bass player. I wasn't doing anything musically when they hit me up to play bass, so I said, 'Of course.' I liked everyone in the band. We were rehearsing, playing a few shows here and there, with an ever-revolving cast of characters. We recorded a record together at the time. I even sing on that record, believe it or not, they gave me a vocal part. Around that same time, I began meeting with [bassist] Joe [Principe] about starting what would become Rise Against.
CHRIS GUTIERREZ: Wentz played me the Arma Angelus demo in the car. He said he wanted it to be a mix of Despair, Buried Alive, and Damnation A.D. He told me Tim was leaving to start another band - which ended up being Rise Against - and asked if I wanted to play bass.
TROHMAN: Pete asked me to fill in for a tour when I was 15. Pete had to call my dad to convince him to let me go. He did it, too. It was my first tour, in a shitty cargo van, with those dudes. They hazed the shit out of me. It was the best and worst experience. Best overall, worst at the time.
GUTIERREZ: Enthusiasm was starting to wane in Arma Angelus. Our drummer was really into cock-rock. It wasn't an ironic thing. He loved L.A. Guns, Whitesnake, and Hanoi Rocks. It drove Pete nuts because the scene was about Bleeding Through and Throwdown, not cock rock. He was frustrated that things weren't panning out for the band, and of course, there's a ceiling for how big a metalcore band can get, anyway.
MANI MOSTOFI: Pete had honed this tough guy persona, which I think was a defense mechanism. He had some volatile moments in his childhood. Underneath, he was a pretty sensitive and vulnerable person. After playing in every mosh-metal band in the Midwest and listening exclusively to Earth Crisis, Damnation A.D., Chokehold, and stuff like that for a long time, I think Pete wanted to do something fresh. He had gotten into Lifetime, Saves The Day, The Get Up Kids, and bands like that. Pete was at that moment where the softer side of him needed an outlet, and didn't want to hide behind mosh-machismo. I remember him telling me he wanted to start a band that more girls could listen to.
MCILRATH: Pete was talking about starting a pop-punk band. Bands like New Found Glory and Saves The Day were successful then. The whole pop-punk sound was accessible. Pete was just one of those guys destined for bigger things than screaming for mediocre hardcore bands in Chicago. He's a smart guy, a brilliant guy. All the endeavors he had taken on, even in the microcosm of the 1990s Chicago hardcore world, he put a lot of though into it. You could tell that if he were given a bigger receptacle to put that thought into, it could become something huge. He was always talented: lyrics, imagery, that whole thing. He was ahead of the curve. We were in this hardcore band from Chicago together, but we were both talking about endeavors beyond it.
TROHMAN: The drummer for Arma Angelus was moving. Pete and I talked about doing something different. It was just Pete and me at first. There was this thuggishness happening in the Chicago hardcore scene at that time that wasn't part of our vibe. It was cool, but it wasn't our thing.
MCILRITH: One day at Arma Angelus practice, Pete asked me, 'Are you going to do that thing with Joe?' I was like, 'Yeah, I think so.' He was like, 'You should do that, dude. Don't let this band hold you back. I'll be doing something else, too. We should be doing other things.' He was really ambitious. It was so amazing to me, too, because Pete was a guy who, at the time, was kind of learning how to play the bass. A guy who didn't really play an instrument will do down in history as one of the more brilliant musicians in Chicago. He had everything else in his corner. He knew how to do everything else. He needed to get some guys behind him because he had the rest covered. He had topics, themes, lyrics, artwork, this whole image he wanted to do, and he was uncompromising. He also tapped into something the rest of us were just waking up to: the advent of the internet. I mean, the internet wasn't new, but higher-speed internet was.
MOSTOFI: Joe was excited to be invited by Pete to do a band. Joe was the youngest in our crew by far, and Pete was the 'coolest' in a Fonzie sort of way. Joe deferred to Pete's judgement for years. But eventually, his whole life centered around bossy big-brother Pete. I think doing The Damned Things was for Joe what Fall Out Boy was for Pete, in a way. It was a way to find his own space within the group of friends. Unsurprisingly, Joe now plays a much more significant role in Fall Out Boy's music.
WENTZ: I wanted to do something easy and escapist. When Joe and I started the band, it was the worst band of all time. I feel like people said, 'Oh, yeah, you started Fall Out Boy to get big.' Dude, there was way more of a chance of every other band getting big in my head than Fall Out Boy. It was a side thing that was fun to do. Racetraitor and Extinction were big bands to me. We wanted to do pop-punk because it would be fun and hilarious. It was definitely on a lark. We weren't good. If it was an attempt at selling out, it was a very poor attempt.
MCILRITH: It was such a thing for people to move from hardcore bands to bands called 'emo' or pop-punk, as those bands were starting to get some radio play and signed to major labels. Everyone thought it was easy, but it's not as easy as that. Most guys we knew who tried it never did anything more successful than their hardcore bands. But Pete did it! And if anyone was going to, it was going to be him. He never did anything half-assed. He ended up playing bass in so many bands in Chicago, even though he could barely play the bass then, because simply putting him in your band meant you'd have a better show. He was just more into it. He knew more about dynamics, about getting a crowd to react to what you're doing than most people. Putting Pete in your band put you up a few notches.
"I'm Writing You A Chorus And Here Is Your Verse" - When Pete met Patrick, early 2001.
MARK ROSE: Patrick Stump played drums in this grindcore band called Grinding Process. They had put out a live split cassette tape.
PATRICK STUMP: My ambition always outweighed my ability or actual place in the world. I was a drummer and played in many bands and tried to finagle my way into better ones but never really managed. I was usually outgunned by the same two guys: this guy Rocky Senesce; I'm not sure if he's playing anymore, but he was amazing. And this other guy, De'Mar Hamilton, who is now in Plain White T's. We'd always go out for the same bands. I felt like I was pretty good, but then those guys just mopped the floor with me. I hadn't been playing music for a few months. I think my girlfriend dumped me. I was feeling down. I wasn't really into pop-punk or emo. I think at the time I was into Rhino Records box sets.
TROHMAN: I was at the Borders in Eden's Plaza in Wilmette, Illinois. My friend Arthur was asking me about Neurosis. Patrick just walked up and started talking to me.
STUMP: I was a bit arrogant and cocky, like a lot of young musicians. Joe was talking kind of loudly and I overheard him say something about Neurosis, and I think I came in kind of snotty, kind of correcting whatever they had said.
TROHMAN: We just started talking about music, and my buddy Arthur got shoved out of the conversation. I told him about the band we were starting. Pete was this local hardcore celebrity, which intrigued Patrick.
STUMP: I had similar conversations with any number of kids my age. This conversation didn't feel crazy special. That's one of the things that's real about [Joe and I meeting], and that's honest about it, that's it's not some 'love at first sight' thing where we started talking about music and 'Holy smokes, we're going to have the best band ever!' I had been in a lot of bands up until then. Hardcore was a couple of years away from me at that point. I was over it, but Pete was in real bands; that was interesting. Now I'm curious and I want to do this thing, or at least see what happens. Joe said they needed a drummer, guitar player, or singer, and I kind of bluffed and said I could do any one of those things for a pop-punk band. I'd had a lot of conversations about starting bands where I meet up with somebody and maybe try to figure out some songs and then we'd never see each other again. There were a lot of false starts and I assumed this would be just another one of those, but it would be fun for this one to be with the guy from Racetraitor and Extinction.
TROHMAN: He gave me the link to his MP3.com page. There were a few songs of him just playing acoustic and singing. He was awesome.
WENTZ: Joe told me we were going to this kid's house who would probably be our drummer but could also sing. He sent me a link to Patrick singing some acoustic thing, but the quality was so horrible it was hard to tell what it was. Patrick answered the door in some wild outfit. He looked like an emo kid but from the Endpoint era - dorky and cool. We went into the basement, and he was like, trying to set up his drums.
TROHMAN: Patrick has said many times that he intended to try out on drums. I was pushing for him to sing after hearing his demos. 'Hey! Sing for us!' I asked him to take out his acoustic guitar. He played songs from Saves The Day's Through Being Cool. I think he sang most of the record to us. We were thrilled. We had never been around someone who could sing like that.
WENTZ: I don't think Patrick thought we were cool at all. We were hanging out, and he started playing acoustic guitar. He started singing, and I realized he could sing any Saves The Day song. I was like, 'Wow, that's the way those bands sound! We should just have you sing.' It had to be serendipity because Patrick drumming and Joe singing is not the same band. I never thought about singing. It wasn't the type of thing I could sing. I knew I'd be playing bass. I didn't think it'd even go beyond a few practices. It didn't seem like the thing I was setting myself up to do for the next several years of my life in any way. I was going to college. It was just a fun getaway from the rest of life kind of thing to do.
STUMP: Andy was the first person we asked to play drums. Joe even brought him up in the Borders conversation. But Andy was too busy. He wasn't really interested, either, because we kind of sucked.
WENTZ: I wanted Hurley in the band, I was closest to him at the time, I had known him for a long time. I identified with him in the way that we were the younger dudes in our larger group. I tried to get him, but he was doing another band at the time, or multiple bands. He was Mani's go-to guy to play drums, always. I had asked him a few times. That should clue people into the fact that we weren't that good.
ANDY HURLEY: I knew Joe as 'Number One Fan.' We called him that because he was a huge fan of a band I was in, Kill The Slavemaster. When Fall Out Boy started, I was going to college full-time. I was in the band Project Rocket and I think The Kill Pill then, too.
MOSTOFI: After they got together the first or second time, Pete played me a recording and said, 'This is going to be big.' They had no songs, no name, no drummer. They could barely play their instruments. But Pete knew, and we believed him because we could see his drive and Patrick's potential. Patrick was prodigy. I imagine the first moment Pete heard him sing was probably like when I heard 15-year-old Andy Hurley play drums.
GUTIERREZ: One day at practice, Pete told me he had met some dudes with whom he was starting a pop-punk band. He said it would sound like a cross between New Found Glory and Lifetime. Then the more Fall Out Boy started to practice, the less active Arma Angelus became.
TROHMAN: We got hooked up with a friend named Ben Rose, who became our original drummer. We would practice in his parents' basement. We eventually wrote some pretty bad songs. I don't even have the demo. I have copies of Arma's demo, but I don't have that one.
MOSTOFI: We all knew that hardcore kids write better pop-punk songs than actual pop-punk kids. It had been proven. An experienced hardcore musician could bring a sense of aggression and urgency to the pop hooks in a way that a band like Yellowcard could never achieve. Pete and I had many conversations about this. He jokingly called it 'Softcore,' but that's precisely what it was. It's what he was going for. Take This To Your Grave sounds like Hot Topic, but it feels like CBGBs.
MCILRITH: Many hardcore guys who transitioned into pop-punk bands dumbed it down musically and lyrically. Fall Out Boy found a way to do it that wasn't dumbed down. They wrote music and lyrics that, if you listened closely, you could tell came from people who grew up into hardcore. Pete seemed to approach the song titles and lyrics the same way he attacked hardcore songs. You could see his signature on all of that.
STUMP: We all had very different ideas of what it should sound like. I signed up for Kid Dynamite, Strike Anywhere, or Dillinger Four. Pete was very into Lifetime and Saves The Day. I think both he and Joe were into New Found Glory and Blink-182. I still hadn't heard a lot of stuff. I was arrogant; I was a rock snob. I was over most pop-punk. But then I had this renaissance week where I was like, 'Man, you know what? I really do like The Descendents.' Like, the specific week I met Joe, it just happened to be that I was listening to a lot of Descendents. So, there was a part of me that was tickled by that idea. 'You know what? I'll try a pop-punk band. Why not?'
MOSTOFI: To be clear, they were trying to become a big band. But they did it by elevating radio-friendly pop punk, not debasing themselves for popularity. They were closely studying Drive-Thru Records bands like The Starting Line, who I couldn't stand. But they knew what they were doing. They extracted a few good elements from those bands and combined them with their other influences. Patrick never needed to be auto-tuned. He can sing. Pete never had to contrive this emotional depth. He always had it.
STUMP: The ideas for band names were obnoxious. At some point, Pete and I were arguing over it, and I think our first drummer, Ben Rose, who was in the hardcore band Strength In Numbers, suggested Fall Out Boy. Pete and I were like, 'Well, we don't hate that one. We'll keep it on the list.' But we never voted on a name.
"Fake It Like You Matter" - The Early Shows, 2001
The name Fall Out Boy made their shortlist, but their friends ultimately chose it for them. The line-up at the band's first show was Patrick Stump (sans guitar), Pete Wentz, Joe Trohman, drummer Ben Rose, and guitarist John Flamandan in his only FOB appearance.
STUMP: We didn't have a name at our two or three shows. We were basically booked as 'Pete's new band' as he was the most known of any of us. Pete and I were the artsy two.
TROHMAN: The rest of us had no idea what we were doing onstage.
STUMP: We took ourselves very seriously and completely different ideas on what was 'cool.' Pete at the time was somewhere between maybe Chuck Palahniuk and Charles Bukowski, and kind of New Romantic and Manchester stuff, so he had that in mind. The band names he suggested were long and verbose, somewhat tongue-in-cheek. I was pretty much only into Tom Waits, so I wanted everything to be a reference to Tom Waits. The first show was at DePaul [University] in some cafeteria. The room looked a lot nicer than punk rock shows are supposed to look, like a room where you couldn't jump off the walls. We played with a band called Stillwell. I want to say one of the other bands played Black Sabbath's Black Sabbath in its entirety. We were out of place. We were tossing a few different names around. The singer for Stillwell was in earshot of the conversation so I was like 'Hey, settle this for us,' and told him whatever name it was, which I can't remember. 'What do you think of this name?' He goes, 'It sucks.' And the way he said it, there was this element to it, like, 'You guys probably suck, too, so whatever.' That was our first show. We played first and only had three songs. That was John's only show with us, and I never saw him again. I was just singing without a guitar, and I had never just sung before; that was horrifying. We blazed through those songs.
ROSE: Patrick had this shoulder-length hair. Watching these guys who were known for heavier stuff play pop-punk was strange. Pete was hopping around with the X's on his hands. Spitalfield was similar; we were kids playing another style of music who heard Texas Is The Reason and Get Up Kids and said, 'We have to start a band like this.'
MOSTOFI: The first show was a lot of fun. The musical side wasn't there, but Pete and Patrick's humor and charisma were front and center.
TROHMAN: I remember having a conversation with Mani about stage presence. He was telling me how important it was. Coalesce and The Dillinger Escape Plan would throw mic stands and cabinets. We loved that visual excitement and appeal. Years later, Patrick sang a Fall Out Boy song with Taylor Swift at Giants Stadium. It was such a great show to watch that I was reminded of how wise Mani was to give me that advice back then. Mani was like a mentor for me, honestly. He would always guide me through stuff.
MOSTOFI: Those guys grew up in Chicago, either playing in or seeing Extinction, Racetraitor, Los Crudos, and other bands that liked to talk and talk between songs. Fall Out Boy did that, and it was amazing. Patrick was awkward in a knowing and hilarious way. He'd say something odd, and then Pete would zing him. Or Pete would try to say something too cool, and Patrick would remind him they were nerds. These are very personal memories for me. Millions of people have seen the well-oiled machine, but so few of us saw those guys when they were so carefree.
TROHMAN: We had this goofy, bad first show, but all I can tell you was that I was determined to make this band work, no matter what.
STUMP: I kind of assumed that was the end of that. 'Whatever, on with our lives.' But Joe was very determined. He was going to pick us up for practice and we were going to keep playing shows. He was going to make the band happen whether the rest of us wanted to or not. That's how we got past show number one. John left the band because we only had three songs and he wasn't very interested. In the interim, I filled in on guitar. I didn't consider myself a guitar player. Our second show was a college show in Southern Illinois or something.
MCILRITH: That show was with my other band, The Killing Tree.
STUMP: We showed up late and played before The Killing Tree. There was no one there besides the bands and our friends. I think we had voted on some names. Pete said 'Hey, we're whatever!'; probably something very long. And someone yells out, 'Fuck that, no, you're Fall Out Boy!' Then when The Killing Tree was playing, Tim said, 'I want to thank Fall Out Boy.' Everyone looked up to Tim, so when he forced the name on us, it was fine. I was a diehard Simpsons fan, without question. I go pretty deep on The Simpsons. Joe and I would just rattle off Simpsons quotes. I used to do a lot of Simpsons impressions. Ben was very into Simpsons; he had a whole closet full of Simpsons action figures.
"If Only You Knew I Was Terrified" - The Early Recordings, 2002-2003
Wentz's relationships in the hardcore scene led to Fall Out Boy's first official releases. A convoluted and rarely properly explained chain of events resulted in the Fall Out Boy/Project Rocket split EP and Fall Out Boy's Evening Out with Your Girlfriend. Both were issued by California's Uprising Records, whose discography included Racetraitor's first album and the debut EP by Burn It Down. The band traveled to Wisconsin to record their first proper demo with engineer Jared Logan, drummer for Uprising's 7 Angels 7 Plagues.
TROHMAN: This isn't to be confused with the demo we did in Ben's basement, which was like a tape demo. This was our first real demo.
STUMP: Between booking the demo and recording it, we lost Ben Rose. He was the greatest guy, but it wasn't working out musically. Pete and Joe decided I should play drums on the demo. But Jared is a sick drummer, so he just did it.
TROHMAN: We had gotten this great singer but went through a series of drummers that didn't work out. I had to be the one who kicked Ben out. Not long after, our friend Brett Bunting played with us. I don't think he really wanted to do it, which was a bummer.
STUMP: I showed up to record that demo, feeling pulled into it. I liked hanging out with the guys, but I was a rock snob who didn't really want to be making that type of music. The first few songs were really rough. We were sloppy. We barely practiced. Pete was in Arma Angelus. Joe was the guy determined to make it happen. We couldn't keep a drummer or guitar player, and I could barely play guitar. I didn't really want to be in Fall Out Boy. We had these crappy songs that kind of happened; it didn't feel like anything. Joe did the guitars. I go in to do the vocals, I put on the headphones, and it starts playing and was kind of not bad! It was pretty good, actually. I was shocked. That was the first time I was like, 'Maybe I am supposed to be in this band.' I enjoyed hearing it back.
SEAN MUTTAQI: Wentz and I were pretty tight. He sent me some demos, and while I didn't know it would get as big as it did, I knew it was special. Wentz had a clear vision. Of all the guys from that scene, he was the most singularly focused on taking things to the next level. He was ahead of the game with promotion and the early days of social media.
STUMP: Arma Angelus had been on Eulogy. We talked to them a bit and spoke to Uprising because they had put out Racetraitor. At some point, the demo got to Sean, and he decided to make it half of a split with Andy's band, Project Rocket. We were pretty happy with that.
HURLEY: It was kind of competitive for me at the time. Project Rocket and Fall Out Boy were both doing pop-punk/pop-rock, I met Patrick through the band. I didn't really know him before Fall Out Boy.
TROHMAN: We got this drummer, Mike Pareskuwicz, who had been in a hardcore band from Central Illinois called Subsist.
STUMP: Uprising wanted us to make an album. We thought that was cool, but we only had those three songs that were on the split. We were still figuring ourselves out. One of the times we were recording with Jared in the studio, for the split or the album, this guy T.J. Kunasch was there. He was like, 'Hey, do you guys need a guitarist?' And he joined.
MUTTAQI: I borrowed some money to get them back in the studio. The songwriting was cool on that record, but it was all rushed. The urgency to get something out led to the recording being subpar. Their new drummer looked the part but couldn't really play. They had already tracked the drums before they realized it didn't sound so hot.
STUMP: The recording experience was not fun. We had two days to do an entire album. Mike was an awesome dude, but he lived crazy far away, in Kanakee, Illinois, so the drive to Milwaukee wasn't easy for him. He had to work or something the next day. So, he did everything in one take and left. He played alone, without a click, so it was a ness to figure out. We had to guess where the guitar was supposed to go. None of us liked the songs because we had slapped them together. We thought it all sucked. But I thought, 'Well, at least it'll be cool to have something out.' Then a lot of time went by. Smaller labels were at the mercy of money, and it was crazy expensive to put out a record back then.
MUTTAQI: Our record was being rushed out to help generate some interest, but that interest was building before we could even get the record out. We were beholden to finances while changing distribution partners and dealing with other delays. The buck stops with me, yes, but I didn't have that much control over the scheduling.
WENTZ: It's not what I would consider the first Fall Out Boy record. Hurley isn't on it and he's an integral part of the Fall Out Boy sound. But it is part of the history, the legacy. NASA didn't go right to the moon. They did test flights in the desert. Those are our test flights in the desert. It's not something I'm ashamed of or have weird feelings about.
STUMP: It's kind of embarrassing to me. Evening Out... isn't representative of the band we became. I liked Sean a lot, so it's nothing against him. If anybody wants to check out the band in that era, I think the split EP is a lot cooler. Plus, Andy is on that one.
TROHMAN: T.J. was the guy who showed up to the show without a guitar. He was the guy that could never get it right, but he was in the band for a while because we wanted a second guitar player. He's a nice dude but wasn't great to be in a band with back then. One day he drove unprompted from Racine to Chicago to pick up some gear. I don't know how he got into my parents' house, but the next thing I knew, he was in my bedroom. I didn't like being woken up and kicked him out of the band from bed.
STUMP: Our friend Brian Bennance asked us to do a split 7" with 504 Plan, which was a big band to us. Brian offered to pay for us to record with Sean O'Keefe, which was also a big deal. Mike couldn't get the time off work to record with us. We asked Andy to play on the songs. He agreed to do it, but only if he could make it in time after recording an entire EP with his band, The Kill Pill, in Chicago, on the same day.
MOSTOFI: Andy and I started The Kill Pill shortly after Racetraitor split up, not long after Fall Out Boy had formed. We played a bunch of local shows together. The minute Andy finished tracking drums for our EP in Chicago, he raced to the other studio in Madison.
STUMP: I'm getting ready to record the drums myself, getting levels and checking the drums, pretty much ready to go. And then in walks Andy Hurley. I was a little bummed because I really wanted to play drums that day. But then Andy goes through it all in like two takes and fucking nailed the entire thing. He just knocked it out of the park. All of us were like, 'That's crazy!'
WENTZ: When Andy came in, It just felt different. It was one of those 'a-ha' moments.
STUMP: Sean leaned over to us and said, 'You need to get this guy in the band.'
SEAN O'KEEFE: We had a blast. We pumped It out. We did it fast and to analog tape. People believe it was very Pro Tools oriented, but it really was done to 24-track tape. Patrick sang his ass off.
STUMP: The songs we had were 'Dead On Arrival,' 'Saturday,' and 'Homesick at Space Camp. There are quite a few songs that ended up on Take This To You Grave where I wrote most of the lyrics but Pete titled them.
WENTZ: 'Space Camp' was a reference to the 1986 movie, SpaceCamp, and the idea of space camp. Space camp wasn't something anyone in my area went to. Maybe they did, but it was never an option for me. It seems like the little kid version of meeting Jay-Z. The idea was also: what if you, like Joaquin Phoenix in the movie, took off to outer space and wanted to get home? 'I made it to space and now I'm just homesick and want to hang out with my friends.' In the greater sense, it's about having it all, but it's still not enough. There's a pop culture reference in 'Saturday' that a lot of people miss. 'Pete and I attack the lost Astoria' was a reference to The Goonies, which was filmed in Astoria, Oregon.
HURLEY: I remember hearing those recordings, especially 'Dead on Arrival,' and Patrick's voice and how well written those songs were, especially relative to anything else I had done - I had a feeling that this could do something.
WENTZ: It seemed like it would stall out if we didn't get a solid drummer in the band soon. That was the link that we couldn't nail down. Patrick was always a big musical presence. He thinks and writes rhythmi-cally, and we couldn't get a drummer to do what he wanted or speak his language. Hurley was the first one that could. It's like hearing two drummers talk together when they really get it. It sounds like a foreign language because it's not something I'm keyed into. Patrick needed someone on a similar musical plane. I wasn't there. Joe was younger and was probably headed there.
HURLEY: When Patrick was doing harmonies, it was like Queen. He's such a brilliant dude. I was always in bands that did a record and then broke up. I felt like this was a band that could tour a lot like the hardcore bands we loved, even if we had to have day jobs, too.
"(Four) Tired Boys And A Broken Down Van" - The Early Tours, 2002-2003
STUMP: We booked a tour with Spitalfield, another Chicago band, who had records out, so they were a big deal to us. We replaced T.J. with a guy named Brandon Hamm. He was never officially in the band. He quit when we were practicing 'Saturday.' He goes, 'I don't like that. I don't want to do this anymore.' Pete talked with guitarist Chris Envy from Showoff, who had just broken up. Chris said, 'Yeah, I'll play in your band.' He came to two practices, then quit like two days before the tour. It was only a two-week tour, but Mike couldn't get the time off work from Best Buy, or maybe it was Blockbuster. We had to lose Mike, which was the hardest member change for me. It was unpleasant.
TROHMAN: We had been trying to get Andy to join the band for a while. Even back at that first Borders conversation, we talked about him, but he was too busy at the time.
STUMP: I borrowed one of Joe's guitars and jumped in the fire. We were in this legendarily shitty used van Pete had gotten. It belonged to some flower shop, so it had this ominously worn-out flower decal outside and no windows [except in the front]. Crappy brakes, no A/C, missing the rearview mirror, no seats in the back, only the driver's seat. About 10 minutes into the tour, we hit something. A tire exploded and slingshot into the passenger side mirror, sending glass flying into the van. We pulled over into some weird animal petting zoo. I remember thinking, 'This is a bad omen for this tour.' Spitalfield was awesome, and we became tight with them. Drew Brown, who was later in Weekend Nachos, was out with them, too. But most of the shows were canceled.
WENTZ: We'd end up in a town, and our show was canceled, or we'd have three days off. 'Let's just get on whatever show we can. Whatever, you can pay us in pizza.'
STUMP: We played in a pizza place. We basically blocked the line of people trying to order pizza, maybe a foot away from the shitty tables. Nobody is trying to watch a band. They're just there to eat pizza. And that was perhaps the biggest show we played on that tour. One of the best moments on the Spitalfied tour was in Lincoln, Nebraska. The local opener wasn't even there - they were at the bar across the street and showed up later with two people. Fall Out Boy played for Spitalfield, and Spitalfield played for Fall Out Boy. Even the sound guy had left. It was basically an empty room. It was miserable.
HURLEY: Even though we played a ton of shows in front of just the other bands, it was awesome. I've known Pete forever and always loved being in bands with him. After that tour, it was pretty much agreed that I would be in the band. I wanted to be in the band.
WENTZ: We would play literally any show in those days for free. We played Chain Reaction in Orange County with a bunch of metalcore bands. I want to say Underoath was one of them. I remember a lot of black shirts and crossed arms at those kinds of shows. STUMP: One thing that gets lost in the annals of history is Fall Out Boy, the discarded hardcore band. We played so many hardcore shows! The audiences were cool, but they were just like, 'This is OK, but we'd really rather be moshing right now.' Which was better than many of the receptions we got from pop-punk kids.
MOSTOFI: Pete made sure there was little division between the band and the audience. In hardcore, kids are encouraged to grab the mic. Pete was very conscious about making the crowd feel like friends. I saw them in Austin, Texas, in front of maybe ten kids. But it was very clear all ten of those kids felt like Pete's best friends. And they were, in a way.
MCILRITH: People started to get into social networking. That kind of thing was all new to us, and they were way ahead. They networked with their fans before any of us.
MOSTOFI: Pete shared a lot about his life online and was intimate as hell. It was a new type of scene. Pete extended the band's community as far as fiber optics let him.
ROSE: Pete was extremely driven. Looking back, I wish I had that killer instinct. During that tour; we played a show in Colorado. On the day of the show, we went to Kinko's to make flyers to hand out to college kids. Pete put ‘members of Saves The Day and Screeching Weasel’ on the flyer. He was just like, 'This will get people in.'
WENTZ: We booked a lot of our early shows through hardcore connections, and to some extent, that carries through to what Fall Out Boy shows are like today. If you come to see us play live, we're basically Slayer compared to everyone else when we play these pop radio shows. Some of that carries back to what you must do to avoid being heckled at hardcore shows. You may not like our music, but you will leave here respecting us. Not everyone is going to love you. Not everyone is going to give a shit. But you need to earn a crowd's respect. That was an important way for us to learn that.
MOSTOFI: All those dudes, except Andy, lived in this great apartment with our friend Brett Bunting, who was almost their drummer at one point. The proximity helped them gel.
STUMP: There were a lot of renegade last-minute shows where we'd just call and get added. We somehow ended up on a show with Head Automatica that way.
MCILRITH: At some point early on, they opened for Rise Against in a church basement in Downers Grove. We were doing well then; headlining that place was a big deal. Then Pete's band was coming up right behind us, and you could tell there was a lot of chatter about Fall Out Boy. I remember getting to the show, and there were many people there, many of whom I had never seen in the scene before. A lot of unfamiliar faces. A lot of people that wouldn't have normally found their way to the seedy Fireside Bowl in Chicago. These were young kids, and I was 21 then, so when I say young, I mean really young. Clearly, Fall Out Boy had tapped into something the rest of us had not. People were super excited to see them play and freaked out; there was a lot of enthusiasm at that show. After they finished, their fans bailed. They were dedicated. They wanted to see Fall Out Boy. They didn't necessarily want to see Rise Against play. That was my first clue that, 'Whoa, what Pete told me that day at Arma Angelus rehearsal is coming true. He was right.' Whatever he was doing was working.
"My Insides Are Copper, And I'd Like To Make Them Gold" - The Record Labels Come Calling, 2002
STUMP: The split EP was going to be a three-way split with 504 Plan, August Premier, and us at one point. But then the record just never happened. Brian backed out of putting it out. We asked him if we could do something else with the three songs and he didn't really seem to care. So, we started shopping the three songs as a demo. Pete ended up framing the rejection letters we got from a lot of pop-punk labels. But some were interested.
HURLEY: We wanted to be on Drive-Thru Records so bad. That was the label.
RICHARD REINES: After we started talking to them, I found the demo they had sent us in the office. I played it for my sister. We decided everything together. She liked them but wasn't as crazy about them as I was. We arranged with Pete to see them practice. We had started a new label called Rushmore. Fall Out Boy wasn't the best live band. We weren't thrilled [by the showcase]. But the songs were great. We both had to love a band to sign them, so my sister said, 'If you love them so much, let's sign them to Rushmore, not Drive Thru.'
HURLEY: We did a showcase for Richard and Stephanie Reines. They were just kind of like, 'Yeah, we have this side label thing. We'd be interested in having you on that.' I remember them saying they passed on Saves The Day and wished they would have put out Through Being Cool. But then they [basically] passed on us by offering to put us on Rushmore. We realized we could settle for that, but we knew it wasn't the right thing.
RORY FELTON: Kevin Knight had a website, TheScout, which always featured great new bands. I believe he shared the demo with us. I flew out to Chicago. Joe and Patrick picked me up at the airport. I saw them play at a VFW hall, Patrick drank an entire bottle of hot sauce on a dare at dinner, and then we all went to see the movie The Ring. I slept on the couch in their apartment, the one featured on the cover of Take This To Your Grave. Chad [Pearson], my partner, also flew out to meet with the band.
STUMP: It was a weird time to be a band because it was feast or famine. At first, no one wanted us. Then as soon as one label said, 'Maybe we'll give 'em a shot,' suddenly there's a frenzy of phone calls from record labels. We were getting our shirts printed by Victory Records. One day, we went to pick up shirts, and someone came downstairs and said, 'Um, guys? [Owner] Tony [Brummel] wants to see you.' We were like, 'Did we forget to pay an invoice?' He made us an offer on the spot. We said, 'That's awesome, but we need to think about it.' It was one of those 'now or never' kinds of things. I think we had even left the van running. It was that kind of sudden; we were overwhelmed by it.
HURLEY: They told me Tony said something like, 'You can be with the Nike of the record industry or the Keds of the record industry.'
STUMP: We'd get random calls at the apartment. 'Hey, I'm a manager with so-and-so.' I talked to some boy band manager who said, 'We think you'll be a good fit.'
TROHMAN: The idea of a manager was a ‘big-time' thing. I answered a call one day, and this guy is like, 'I'm the manager for the Butthole Surfers, and I'd really like to work with you guys.' I just said, Yeah, I really like the Butthole Surfers, but I'll have to call you back.' And I do love that band. But I just knew that wasn't the right thing.
STUMP: Not all the archetypes you always read about are true. The label guys aren't all out to get you. Some are total douchebags. But then there are a lot who are sweet and genuine. It's the same thing with managers. I really liked the Militia Group. They told us it was poor form to talk to us without a manager. They recommended Bob McLynn.
FELTON: We knew the guys at Crush from working with Acceptance and The Beautiful Mistake. We thought they'd be great for Fall Out Boy, so we sent the music to their team.
STUMP: They said Crush was their favorite management company and gave us their number. Crush's biggest band at the time was American Hi-Fi. Jonathan Daniels, the guy who started the company, sent a manager to see us. The guy was like, "This band sucks!' But Jonathan liked us and thought someone should do something with us. Bob was his youngest rookie manager. He had never managed anyone, and we had never been managed.
BOB MCLYNN: Someone else from my office who isn't with us anymore had seen them, but I hadn't seen them yet. At the time, we'd tried to manage Brand New; they went elsewhere, and I was bummed. Then we got the Fall Out Boy demo, and I was like, Wow. This sounds even better. This guy can really sing, and these songs are great.' I remember going at it hard after that whole thing. Fall Out Boy was my consolation prize. I don't know if they were talking to other managers or not, but Pete and I clicked.
TROHMAN: In addition to being really creative, Pete is really business savvy. We all have a bullshit detector these days, but Pete already had one back then. We met Bob, and we felt like this dude wouldn't fuck us over.
STUMP: We were the misfit toy that nobody else wanted. Bob really believed in us when nobody else did and when nobody believed in him. What's funny is that all the other managers at Crush were gone within a year. It was just Bob and Jonathan, and now they're partners. Bob was the weird New York Hardcore guy who scared me at the time.
TROHMAN: We felt safe with him. He's a big, hulking dude.
MCLYNN: We tried to make a deal with The Militia Group, but they wouldn't back off on a few things in the agreement. I told them those were deal breakers, opening the door to everyone else. I knew this band needed a shot to do bigger and better things.
TROHMAN: He told us not to sign with the label that recommended him to us. We thought there was something very honest about that.
MCLYNN: They paid all their dues. Those guys worked harder than any band I'd ever seen, and I was all about it. I had been in bands before and had just gotten out. I was getting out of the van just as these guys got into one. They busted their asses.
STUMP: A few labels basically said the same thing: they wanted to hear more. They weren't convinced we could write another song as good as 'Dead On Arrival.' I took that as a challenge. We returned to Sean a few months after those initial three songs, this time at Gravity Studios in Chicago. We recorded ‘Grenade Jumper' and 'Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy' in a night or two. 'Where is Your Boy' was my, 'Fine, you don't think I can write a fucking song? Here's your hit song, jerks!' But I must have pushed Pete pretty hard [arguing about the songs]. One night, as he and I drove with Joe, Pete said, 'Guys, I don't think I want to do this band anymore.' We talked about it for the rest of the ride home. I didn't want to be in the band in the first place! I was like, 'No! That's not fair! Don't leave me with this band! Don't make me kind of like this band, and then leave it! That's bullshit!' Pete didn't stay at the apartment that night. I called him at his parent's house. I told him I wasn't going to do the band without him. He was like, 'Don't break up your band over it.' I said, 'It's not my band. It's a band that you, Joe, and I started.' He was like, 'OK, I'll stick around.' And he came back with a vengeance.
WENTZ: It was maybe the first time we realized we could do these songs titles that didn't have much do with the song from the outside. Grand Theft Auto was such a big pop culture franchise. If you said the phrase back then, everyone recognized it. The play on words was about someone stealing your time in the fall. It was the earliest experimentation with that so it was a little simplistic compared to the stuff we did later. At the time, we'd tell someone the song title, and they'd say, 'You mean "Auto"'?
JOHN JANICK: I saw their name on fliers and thought it was strange. But I remembered it. Then I saw them on a flyer with one of our bands from Chicago, August Premier. I called them and asked about this band whose name I had seen on a few flyers now. They told me they were good and I should check it out. I heard an early version of a song online and instantly fell in love with it. Drive-Thru, The Militia Group, and a few majors tried to sign them. I was the odd man out. But I knew I wanted them right away.
HURLEY: Fueled By Ramen was co-owned by Vinnie [Fiorello] from Less Than Jake. It wasn't necessarily a band I grew up loving, but I had so much respect for them and what they had done and were doing.
JANICK: I randomly cold-called them at the apartment and spoke to Patrick. He told me I had to talk to Pete. I spoke to Pete later that day. We ended up talking on the phone for an hour. It was crazy. I never flew out there. I just got to know them over the phone.
MCLYNN: There were majors [interested], but I didn't want the band on a major right away. I knew they wouldn't understand the band. Rob Stevenson from Island Records knew all the indie labels were trying to sign Fall Out Boy. We did this first-ever incubator sort of deal. I also didn't want to stay on an indie forever; I felt we needed to develop and have a chance to do bigger and better things, but these indies didn't necessarily have radio staff. It was sort of the perfect scenario. Island gave us money to go on Fueled By Ramen, with whom we did a one-off. No one else would offer a one-off on an indie.
STUMP: They were the smallest of the labels involved, with the least 'gloss.' I said, 'I don't know about this, Pete.' Pete was the one who thought it was the smartest move. He pointed out that we could be a big fish in a small pond. So, we rolled the dice.
HURLEY: It was a one-record deal with Fueled By Ramen. We didn't necessarily get signed to Island, but they had the 'right of first refusal' [for the album following Take This To Your Grave]. It was an awesome deal. It was kind of unheard of, maybe, but there was a bunch of money coming from Island that we didn't have to recoup for promo type of things.
JANICK: The company was so focused on making sure we broke Fall Out Boy; any other label probably wouldn't have had that dedication. Pete and I talked for at least an hour every day. Pete and I became so close, so much so that we started Decaydance. It was his thing, but we ended up signing Panic! At The Disco, Gym Class Heroes, Cobra Starship.
GUTIERREZ: Who could predict Pete would A&R all those bands? There's no Panic! At The Disco or Gym Class Heroes without Wentz. He made them into celebrities.
"Turn This Up And I'll Tune You Out" - The Making of Take This To You Grave, 2003
The versions of "Dead on Arrival," "Saturday," and "Homesick at Space Camp" from the first sessions with Andy on drums are what appear on the album. "Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy" and "Grenade Jumper" are the demo versions recorded later in Chicago. O'Keefe recorded the music for the rest of the songs at Smart Studios once again. They knocked out the remaining songs in just nine days. Sean and Patrick snuck into Gravity Studios in the middle of the night to track vocals in the dead of winter. Patrick sang those seven songs from two to five in the morning in those sessions.
STUMP: John Janick basically said, ‘I'll buy those five songs and we'll make them part of the album, and here's some money to go record seven more.'
MCLYNN: It was a true indie deal with Fueled by Ramen. I think we got between $15,000 and $18,000 all-in to make the album. The band slept on the studio floor some nights.
STUMP: From a recording standpoint, it was amazing. It was very pro, we had Sean, all this gear, the fun studio accoutrements were there. It was competitive with anything we did afterward. But meanwhile, we're still four broke idiots.
WENTZ: We fibbed to our parents about what we were doing. I was supposed to be in school. I didn't have access to money or a credit card. I don't think any of us did.
STUMP: I don't think we slept anywhere we could shower, which was horrifying. There was a girl that Andy's girlfriend at the time went to school with who let us sleep on her floor, but we'd be there for maybe four hours at a time. It was crazy.
HURLEY: Once, Patrick thought it would be a good idea to spray this citrus bathroom spray under his arms like deodorant. It just destroyed him because it's not made for that. But it was all an awesome adventure.
WENTZ: We were so green we didn't really know how studios worked. Every day there was soda for the band. We asked, 'Could you take that soda money and buy us peanut butter, jelly, and bread?' which they did. I hear that stuff in some ways when I listen to that album.
HURLEY: Sean pushed us. He was such a perfectionist, which was awesome. I felt like, ‘This is what a real professional band does.' It was our first real studio experience.
WENTZ: Seeing the Nirvana Nevermind plaque on the wall was mind-blowing. They showed us the mic that had been used on that album.
HURLEY: The mic that Kurt Cobain used, that was pretty awesome, crazy, legendary, and cool. But we didn't get to use it.
WENTZ: They said only Shirley Manson] from Garbage could use it.
O'KEEFE: Those dudes were all straight edge at the time. It came up in conversation that I had smoked weed once a few months before. That started this joke that I was this huge stoner, which obviously I wasn't. They'd call me 'Scoobie Snacks O'Keefe' and all these things. When they turned in the art for the record, they thanked me with like ten different stoner nicknames - 'Dimebag O'Keefe' and stuff like that. The record company made Pete take like seven of them out because they said it was excessively ridiculous.
WENTZ: Sean was very helpful. He worked within the budget and took us more seriously than anyone else other than Patrick. There were no cameras around. There was no documentation. There was nothing to indicate this would be some ‘legendary' session. There are 12 songs on the album because those were all the songs we had. There was no pomp or circumstance or anything to suggest it would be an 'important’ record.
STUMP: Pete and I were starting to carve out our niches. When Pete [re-committed himself to the band], it felt like he had a list of things in his head he wanted to do right. Lyrics were on that list. He wasn't playing around anymore. I wrote the majority of the lyrics up to that point - ‘Saturday,' 'Dead on Arrival,' ‘Where's Your Boy?,’ ‘Grenade Jumper,' and ‘Homesick at Space Camp.' I was an artsy-fartsy dude who didn't want to be in a pop-punk band, so I was going really easy on the lyrics. I wasn't taking them seriously. When I look back on it, I did write some alright stuff. But I wasn't trying. Pete doesn't fuck around like that, and he does not take that kindly. When we returned to the studio, he started picking apart every word, every syllable. He started giving me [notes]. I got so exasperated at one point I was like, ‘You just write the fucking lyrics, dude. Just give me your lyrics, and I'll write around them.' Kind of angrily. So, he did. We hadn't quite figured out how to do it, though. I would write a song, scrap my lyrics, and try to fit his into where mine had been. It was exhausting. It was a rough process. It made both of us unhappy.
MCLYNN: I came from the post-hardcore scene in New York and wasn't a big fan of the pop-punk stuff happening. What struck me with these guys was the phenomenal lyrics and Patrick's insane voice. Many guys in these kinds of bands can sing alright, but Patrick was like a real singer. This guy had soul. He'd take these great lyrics Pete wrote and combine it with that soul, and that's what made their unique sound. They both put their hearts on their sleeves when they wrote together.
STUMP: We had a massive fight over 'Chicago is So Two Years Ago.' I didn't even want to record that song. I was being precious with things that were mine. Part of me thought the band wouldn't work out, and I'd go to college and do some music alone. I had a skeletal version of 'Chicago...'. I was playing it to myself in the lobby of the studio. I didn't know anyone was listening. Sean was walking by and wanted to [introduce it to the others]. I kind of lost my song. I was very precious about it. Pete didn't like some of the lyrics, so we fought. We argued over each word, one at a time. 'Tell That Mick...' was also a pretty big fight. Pete ended up throwing out all my words on that one. That was the first song where he wrote the entire set of lyrics. My only change was light that smoke' instead of ‘cigarette' because I didn't have enough syllables to say 'cigarette.' Everything else was verbatim what he handed to me. I realized I must really want to be in this band at this point if I'm willing to put up with this much fuss. The sound was always more important to me - the rhythm of the words, alliteration, syncopation - was all very exciting. Pete didn't care about any of that. He was all meaning. He didn't care how good the words sounded if they weren't amazing when you read them. Man, did we fight about that. We fought for nine days straight while not sleeping and smelling like shit. It was one long argument, but I think some of the best moments resulted from that.
WENTZ: In 'Calm Before the Storm,' Patrick wrote the line, 'There's a song on the radio that says, 'Let's Get This Party Started' which is a direct reference to Pink's 2001 song 'Get the Party Started.' 'Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today' is a line from the movie Rushmore. I thought we'd catch a little more flack for that, but even when we played it in Ireland, there was none of that. It's embraced, more like a shoutout.
STUMP: Pete and I met up on a lot of the same pop culture. He was more into '80s stuff than I was. One of the first things we talked about were Wes Anderson movies.
WENTZ: Another thing driving that song title was the knowledge that our fanbase wouldn't necessarily be familiar with Wes Anderson. It could be something that not only inspired us but something fans could also go check out. People don't ask us about that song so much now, but in that era, we'd answer and tell them to go watch Rushmore. You gotta see this movie. This line is a hilarious part of it.' Hopefully some people did. I encountered Jason Schwartzman at a party once. We didn't get to talk about the movie, but he was the sweetest human, and I was just geeking out. He told me he was writing a film with Wes Anderson about a train trip in India. I wanted to know about the writing process. He was like, 'Well, he's in New York City, I'm in LA. It's crazy because I'm on the phone all the time and my ear gets really hot.' That's the anecdote I got, and I loved it.
O'KEEFE: They're totally different people who approach making music from entirely different angles. It's cool to see them work. Pete would want a certain lyric. Patrick was focused on the phrasing. Pete would say the words were stupid and hand Patrick a revision, and Patrick would say I can't sing those the way I need to sing this. They would go through ten revisions for one song. I thought I would lose my mind with both of them, but then they would find it, and it would be fantastic. When they work together, it lights up. It takes on a life of its own. It's not always happy. There's a lot of push and pull, and each is trying to get their thing. With Take This To Your Grave, we never let anything go until all three of us were happy. Those guys were made to do this together.
WENTZ: A lot of the little things weren't a big deal, but those were things that [felt like] major decisions. I didn't want 'Where Is Your Boy' on Take This To Your Grave.
JANICK: I freaked out. I called Bob and said, 'We must put this song on the album! It's one of the biggest songs.' He agreed. We called Pete and talked about it; he was cool about it and heard us out.
WENTZ: I thought many things were humongous, and they just weren't. They didn't matter one way or another.
"Our Lawyer Made Us Change The (Album Cover)" - That Photo On Take This To Your Grave, 2003
STUMP: The band was rooted in nostalgia from early on. The '80s references were very much Pete's aesthetic. He had an idea for the cover. It ended up being his girlfriend at the time, face down on the bed, exhausted, in his bedroom. That was his bedroom in our apartment. His room was full of toys, '80s cereals. If we ended up with the Abbey Road cover of pop-punk, that original one was Sgt. Pepper's. But we couldn't legally clear any of the stuff in the photo. Darth Vader, Count Chocula…
WENTZ: There's a bunch of junk in there: a Morrissey poster, I think a Cher poster, Edward Scissorhands. We submitted it to Fueled by Ramen, and they were like, 'We can't clear any of this stuff.’ The original album cover did eventually come out on the vinyl version.
STUMP: The photo that ended up being the cover was simply a promo photo for that album cycle. We had to scramble. I was pushing the Blue Note jazz records feel. That's why the CD looks a bit like vinyl and why our names are listed on the front. I wanted a live photo on the cover. Pete liked the Blue Note idea but didn't like the live photo idea. I also made the fateful decision to have my name listed as 'Stump' rather than Stumph.
WENTZ: What we used was initially supposed to be the back cover. I remember someone in the band being pissed about it forever. Not everyone was into having our names on the cover. It was a strange thing to do at the time. But had the original cover been used, it wouldn't have been as iconic as what we ended up with. It wouldn't have been a conversation piece. That stupid futon in our house was busted in the middle. We're sitting close to each other because the futon was broken. The exposed brick wall was because it was the worst apartment ever. It makes me wonder: How many of these are accidental moments? At the time, there was nothing iconic about it. If we had a bigger budget, we probably would have ended up with a goofier cover that no one would have cared about.
STUMP: One of the things I liked about the cover was that it went along with something Pete had always said. I'm sure people will find this ironic, but Pete had always wanted to create a culture with the band where it was about all four guys and not just one guy. He had the foresight to even think about things like that. I didn't think anyone would give a fuck about our band! At the time, it was The Pete Wentz Band to most people. With that album cover, he was trying to reject that and [demonstrate] that all four of us mattered. A lot of people still don't get that, but whatever. I liked that element of the cover. It felt like a team. It felt like Voltron. It wasn't what I like to call 'the flying V photo' where the singer is squarely in the center, the most important, and everyone else is nearest the camera in order of 'importance.' The drummer would be in the very back. Maybe the DJ guy who scratches records was behind the drummer.
"You Need Him. I Could Be Him. Where Is Your Boy Tonight?" - The Dynamics of Punk Pop's Fab 4, 2003
Patrick seemed like something of the anti-frontman, never hogging the spotlight and often shrinking underneath his baseball hat. Wentz was more talkative, more out front on stage and in interviews, in a way that felt unprecedented for a bass player who wasn't also singing. In some ways, Fall Out Boy operated as a two-headed dictatorship. Wentz and Stump are in the car's front seat while Joe and Andy ride in the back.
STUMP: There is a lot of truth to that. Somebody must be in the front seat, no question. But the analogy doesn't really work for us; were more like a Swiss Army knife. You've got all these different attachments, but they are all part of the same thing. When you need one specific tool, the rest go back into the handle. That was how the band functioned and still does in many ways. Pete didn't want anyone to get screwed. Some things we've done might not have been the best business decision but were the right human decision. That was very much Pete's thing. I was 19 and very reactionary. If someone pissed me off, I'd be like, 'Screw them forever!' But Pete was very tactful. He was the business guy. Joe was active on the internet. He wouldn't stop believing in this band. He was the promotions guy. Andy was an honest instrumentalist: ‘I'm a drummer, and I'm going to be the best fucking drummer I can be.' He is very disciplined. None of us were that way aside from him. I was the dictator in the studio. I didn't know what producing was at the time or how it worked, but in retrospect, I've produced a lot of records because I'm an asshole in the studio. I'm a nice guy, but I'm not the nicest guy in the studio. It's a lot easier to know what you don't want. We carved out those roles early. We were very dependent on each other.
MCLYNN: I remember sitting in Japan with those guys. None of them were drinking then, but I was drinking plenty. It was happening there, their first time over, and all the shows were sold out. I remember looking at Pete and Patrick and telling Pete, ‘You're the luckiest guy in the world because you found this guy.' Patrick laughed. Then I turned to Patrick and said the same thing to him. Because really, they're yin and yang. They fit together so perfectly. The fact that Patrick found this guy with this vision, Pete had everything for the band laid out in his mind. Patrick, how he can sing, and what he did with Pete's lyrics - no one else could have done that. We tried it, even with the Black Cards project in 2010. We'd find these vocalists. Pete would write lyrics, and they'd try to form them into songs, but they just couldn't do it the way Patrick could. Pete has notebooks full of stuff that Patrick turns into songs. Not only can he sing like that, but how he turns those into songs is an art unto itself. It's really the combination of those two guys that make Fall Out Boy what it is. They're fortunate they found each other.
"I Could Walk This Fine Line Between Elation And Success. We All Know Which Way I'm Going To Strike The Stake Between My Chest" - Fall Out Boy Hits the Mainstream, 2003
Released on May 6, 2003, Take This To Your Grave massively connected with fans. (Fall Out Boy's Evening Out with Your Girlfriend arrived in stores less than two months earlier.) While Take This To Your Grave didn't crack the Billboard 200 upon its release, it eventually spent 30 weeks on the charts. From Under the Cork Tree debuted in the Top 10 just two years later, largely on Grave's momentum. 2007's Infinity on High bowed at #1.
WENTZ: I remember noticing it was getting insane when we would do in-stores. We'd still play anywhere. That was our deal. We liked being able to sell our stuff in the stores, too. It would turn into a riot. We played a Hollister at the mall in Schaumburg, Illinois. A lot of these stores were pretty corporate with a lot of rules, but Hollister would let us rip. Our merch guy was wearing board shorts, took this surfboard off the wall, and started crowd-surfing with it during the last song. I remember thinking things had gotten insane right at that moment.
HURLEY: When we toured with Less Than Jake, there were these samplers with two of their songs and two of ours. Giving those out was a surreal moment. To have real promotion for a record... It wasn't just an ad in a 'zine or something. It was awesome.
MCLYNN: They toured with The Reunion Show, Knockout, and Punch-line. One of their first big tours as an opening act was with MEST. There would be sold-out shows with 1,000 kids, and they would be singing along to Fall Out Boy much louder than to MEST. It was like, 'What's going on here?' It was the same deal with Less Than Jake. It really started catching fire months into the album being out. You just knew something was happening. As a headliner, they went from 500-capacity clubs to 1500 - 2000 capacity venues.
WENTZ: We always wanted to play The Metro in Chicago. It got awkward when they started asking us to play after this band or that band. There were bands we grew up with that were now smaller than us. Headlining The Metro was just wild. My parents came.
MCLYNN: There was a week on Warped Tour, and there was some beel because these guys were up-and-comers, and some of the bands that were a little more established weren't too happy. They were getting a little shit on Warped Tour that week, sort of their initiation. They were on this little, shitty stage. So many kids showed up to watch them in Detroit, and the kids rushed the stage, and it collapsed. The PA failed after like three songs. They finished with an acapella, 'Where is Your Boy,’ and the whole crowd sang along.
WENTZ: That's when every show started ending in a riot because it couldn't be contained. We ended up getting banned from a lot of venues because the entire crowd would end up onstage. It was pure energy. We'd be billed on tour as the opening band, and the promoter would tell us we had to close the show or else everyone would leave after we played. We were a good band to have that happen to because there wasn't any ego. We were just like, "Oh, that's weird.' It was just bizarre. When my parents saw it was this wid thing, they said, 'OK, yeah, maybe take a year off from college.' That year is still going on.
MCLYNN: That Warped Tour was when the band's first big magazine cover, by far, hit the stands. I give a lot of credit to Norman Wonderly and Mike Shea at Alternative Press. They saw what was happening with Fall Out Boy and were like, 'We know it's early with you guys, but we want to give you a cover.' It was the biggest thing to happen to any of us. It really helped kick it to another level. It helped stoke the fires that were burning. This is back when bands like Green Day, Blink-182, and No Doubt still sold millions of records left and right. It was a leap of faith for AP to step out on Fall Out Boy the way they did.
STUMP: That was our first big cover. It was crazy. My parents flipped out. That wasn't a small zine. It was a magazine my mom could find in a bookstore and tell her friends. It was a shocking time. It's still like that. Once the surrealism starts, it never ends. I was onstage with Taylor Swift ten years later. That statement just sounds insane. It's fucking crazy. But when I was onstage, I just fell into it. I wasn't thinking about how crazy it was until afterward. It was the same thing with the AP cover. We were so busy that it was just another one of those things we were doing that day. When we left, I was like, 'Holy fuck! We're on the cover of a magazine! One that I read! I have a subscription to that!'
HURLEY: Getting an 'In The Studio' blurb was a big deal. I remember seeing bands 'in the studio' and thinking, Man, I would love to be in that and have people care that we're in the studio.' There were more minor things, but that was our first big cover.
STUMP: One thing I remember about the photo shoot is I was asked to take off my hat. I was forced to take it off and had been wearing that hat for a while. I never wanted to be the lead singer. I always hoped to be a second guitarist with a backup singer role. I lobbied to find someone else to be the proper singer. But here I was, being the lead singer, and I fucking hated it. When I was a drummer, I was always behind something. Somehow the hat thing started. Pete gave me a hat instead of throwing it away - I think it's the one I'm wearing on the cover of Take This To Your Grave. It became like my Linus blanket. I had my hat, and I could permanently hide. You couldn't see my eyes or much of me, and I was very comfortable that way. The AP cover shoot was the first time someone asked me to remove it. My mom has a poster of that cover in her house, and every time I see it, I see the fear on my face - just trying to maintain composure while filled with terror and insecurity. ‘Why is there a camera on me?'
JANICK: We pounded the pavement every week for two years. We believed early on that something great was going to happen. As we moved to 100,000 and 200,000 albums, there were points where everything was tipping. When they were on the cover of Alternative Press. When they did Warped for five days, and the stage collapsed. We went into Christmas with the band selling 2000 to 3000 a week and in the listening stations at Hot Topic. Fueled By Ramen had never had anything like that before.
MOSTOFI: Pete and I used to joke that if he weren't straight edge, he would have likely been sent to prison or worse at some point before Fall Out Boy. Pete has a predisposition to addictive behavior and chemical dependency. This is something we talked about a lot back in the day. Straight Edge helped him avoid some of the traps of adolescence.
WENTZ: I was straight edge at the time. I don't think our band would have been so successful without that. The bands we were touring with were partying like crazy. Straight Edge helped solidify the relationship between the four of us. We were playing for the love of music, not for partying or girls or stuff like that. We liked being little maniacs running around. Hurley and I were kind of the younger brothers of the hardcore kids we were in bands with. This was an attempt to get out of that shadow a little bit. Nobody is going to compare this band to Racetraitor. You know when you don't want to do exactly what your dad or older brother does? There was a little bit of that.
"Take This To Your Grave, And I'll Take It To Mine" - The Legacy of Take This To Your Grave, 2003-2023
Take This To Your Grave represents a time before the paparazzi followed Wentz to Starbucks, before marriages and children, Disney soundtracks, and all the highs and lows of an illustrious career. The album altered the course for everyone involved with its creation. Crush Music added Miley Cyrus, Green Day, and Weezer to their roster. Fueled By Ramen signed Twenty One Pilots, Paramore, A Day To Remember, and All Time Low.
STUMP: I'm so proud of Take This To Your Grave. I had no idea how much people were going to react to it. I didn't know Fall Out Boy was that good of a band. We were this shitty post-hardcore band that decided to do a bunch of pop-punk before I went to college, and Pete went back to opening for Hatebreed. That was the plan. Somehow this record happened. To explain to people now how beautiful and accidental that record was is difficult. It seems like it had to have been planned, but no, we were that shitty band that opened for 25 Ta Life.
HURLEY: We wanted to make a record as perfect as Saves The Day's Through Being Cool. A front-to-back perfect collection of songs. That was our obsession with Take This To Your Grave. We were just trying to make a record that could be compared in any way to that record. There's just something special about when the four of us came together.
WENTZ: It blows my mind when I hear people talking about Take This To Your Grave or see people including it on lists because it was just this tiny personal thing. It was very barebones. That was all we had, and we gave everything we had to it. Maybe that's how these big iconic bands feel about those records, too. Perhaps that's how James Hetfield feels when we talk about Kill 'Em All. That album was probably the last moment many people had of having us as their band that their little brother didn't know about. I have those feelings about certain bands, too. 'This band was mine. That was the last time I could talk about them at school without anyone knowing who the fuck I was talking about.' That was the case with Take This To Your Grave.
TROHMAN: Before Save Rock N' Roll, there was a rumor that we would come back with one new song and then do a Take This To Your Grave tenth-anniversary tour. But we weren't going to do what people thought we would do. We weren't going to [wear out] our old material by just returning from the hiatus with a Take This To Your Grave tour.
WENTZ: We've been asked why we haven't done a Take This To Your Grave tour. In some ways, it's more respectful not to do that. It would feel like we were taking advantage of where that record sits, what it means to people and us.
HURLEY: When Metallica released Death Magnetic, I loved the record, but I feel like Load and Reload were better in a way, because you knew that's what they wanted to do.
TROHMAN: Some people want us to make Grave again, but I'm not 17. It would be hard to do something like that without it being contrived. Were proud of those songs. We know that’s where we came from. We know the album is an important part of our history.
STUMP: There's always going to be a Take This To Your Grave purist fan who wants that forever: But no matter what we do, we cannot give you 2003. It'll never happen again. I know the feeling, because I've lived it with my favorite bands, too. But there's a whole other chunk of our fans who have grown with us and followed this journey we're on. We were this happy accident that somehow came together. It’s tempting to plagarize yourself. But it’s way more satisfying and exciting to surprise yourself.
MCILRITH: Fall Out Boy is an important band for so many reasons. I know people don't expect the singer of Rise Against to say that, but they really are. If nothing else, they created so much dialog and conversation within not just a scene but an international scene. They were smart. They got accused of being this kiddie pop punk band, but they did smart things with their success. I say that, especially as a guy who grew up playing in the same Chicago hardcore bands that would go on and confront be-ing a part of mainstream music. Mainstream music and the mainstream world are machines that can chew your band up if you don't have your head on straight when you get into it. It's a fast-moving river, and you need to know what direction you're going in before you get into it. If you don't and you hesitate, it'll take you for a ride. Knowing those guys, they went into it with a really good idea. That's something that the hardcore instilled in all of us. Knowing where you stand on those things, we cut our teeth on the hardcore scene, and it made us ready for anything that the world could throw at us, including the giant music industry.
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vivianstravelblog · 2 years
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Movie Review - The Cutting Edge 3: Chasing the Dream
Movie Review – The Cutting Edge 3: Chasing the Dream
~ Warning! Spoilers! Movie Review: “The Cutting Edge 3: Chasing the Dream” (ABC Family 2008) ~ REVIEW Recently, Amazon Prime reminded me of one of my all-time favorite ice-skating romance movies, “The Cutting Edge.” After re-watching the film and still loving it, I wanted to continue with the franchise. Sadly, the second installment is unavailable, but the third one, which I have never seen…
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yunjinified · 4 months
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Wonwoo fic recs
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✿=personal favourites
note: this list will constantly be updated. In all of these fics the reader is either gender neutral or female.
Good To Me by @moonhoures series warnings and genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff, shower sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, pet names, multiple orgasms. word count: 1 300
9:03PM by @moonhoures series warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, finger sucking. word count: N/A
✿Bloodily Safe by @starlightxsvt series warnings and genre: psychological thriller, camgirl!au, college!au, smut, toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder. word count: 18 500
✿Game On! (bloodily safe 2) by @starlightxsvt series warnings and genre: psycho!Wonwoo, ghost face kink, scream movie references, sir kink, degradation, choking, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, rough sex, breast play, knife play (no cutting or marking), implications of violence, blood. word count: 6 000
Work Husband by @bitchlessdino series warnings and genre: office!au, smut, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names. word count: 3 900
✿Twisted Fate by @smileysuh series warnings and genre: murder, blood, vampire!wonwoo, yandere subthemes, kidnapping, biting, blood play, throat grabbing, manhandling, begging, praise, dirty talk, mean dom!wonwoo, multiple orgasms, finger-licking, chocking, unprotected sex, size kink, gentle spanking, dumbification, hair-pulling. word count: 14 300
Mine by @gyupinkys series warnings and genre: Degradation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving) , gunshots, pet names, breeding, edging. word count: 1 500
Getting closer by @multi-kpop-fanfics series warnings and genre: Joker!Wonwoo x Chief Inspector!reader, angst, smut, horror, minor fluff, blood, mentions of weapons, minor injuries, cursing, hatefucking, marking, hair pulling, choking, face-slapping, major character death, slight yandere behaviour, mentions of mental illness and insomnia. word count: 6 100
✿Red lights by @multi-kpop-fanfics series warnings and genre: smut, angst, fingering, overstimulation, marking, unprotected sex, choking, possessive and jealous Wonwoo , cursing, toxic relationship. word count: N/A
Good to Me by @multi-kpop-fanfics series warnings and genre: fluff, smut, a bit of comedy, sexual tension, soft dom!Wonwoo, use of restraints, dirty talk, praise, oral sex (f receiving), edging, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare. word count: 5 000
horror game by @myung-heee series warnings and genre: fluff, smut, pet names, oral (f receiving), face sitting, crying, protected sex. word count: 2 500
✿rich girl by @blushnote series warnings and genre: smut, blowjob, face fucking, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, shower sex, pet names. word count: 6 708
6:30pm by @cheolhub series warnings and genre: unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, degradation, hard dom!wonwoo. word count: 755
off limits by @hinaaspanda series warnings and genre: brother's best friend!Wonwoo, swearing, crack, smut, fingering, protected sex, dirty talk, praising. word count: 9 907
✿Cat and mouse by @wonusite series warnings and genre: bad boy!au, smut, descriptions of minor injuries, mutual pining, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, mating press, aftercare. word count: 5 600
Your games suck by @onlymingyus series warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, pet names. word count: 2 700
distraction by @hwanghyunjinenthusiast series warnings and genre: established relationship, pwp, Dom! Wonwoo, Sub! Reader, dirty talk, breast spanking (f. receiving), nipple play (f. receiving), praise kink (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving). word count: N/A
✿The bore next door by @ncteez series warnings and genre: dom!wonwoo, bratty/sub!reader, face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting, dirty talk, protected sex, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling. word count: 8 800
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evera-era · 7 months
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heal me.
there’s a new medic in town, and ellie williams is about to find out who she is.
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ellie williams x fem!reader, pt 2 here
warnings: fluff, mention of cuts/wounds, medical setting, suggestive themes. wc 1.3k
a/n: first time writing an ellie fic! if this does well i might post a second + third part <3
Ellie hated anything to do with doctors. She could take care of herself perfectly fine, she swears. But Dina witnessed her earning a nasty gash during a patrol, and wouldn’t shut up about it unless she got it checked out.
Word was that there was a new medic in town. Ellie’s pretty sure she’s seen you around Jackson. Walking around in those dumb white clothes, tending to everyone who needed you.
You’ve seen her too. Sneaking glances anytime you could. I mean, Ellie was pretty, and it was no big deal, right?
That is, until a flash of auburn hair ducks into the med clinic, and you nearly jump out of your skin.
Ellie clears her throat. “Uh… you guys are pretty much done for the night, right?”
She’s hoping you would say yes so she could just go back home and rest. Watch a movie, maybe. Have everyone fuck off and leave her alone.
You nod, clicking your pen, when you notice her clutching her side. “But I’ve got time for one more.”
You were on call, anyway, so your shift was never really over.
Fuck, she thinks. Ellie has always had trouble asking for help. She could take care of herself just fine. It didn’t help that you were so nice — nauseatingly so — but she figures that’s why you’re the town medic and she’s not.
“Follow me,” You add, motioning her over to the first room on the left. Even though meds were hard to come by, bandages were plentiful, and you weren’t gonna pass up the opportunity to tend to your crush.
Totally innocent crush.
“So, what was it?” You ask, eyes scanning over the girl as she takes a place on the edge of the hospital bed.
“Some fuckers we ran into, lone group. Nothing too serious... think they were looking to steal shit.” Ellie mutters. “But one took a swing at me and I fell on something sharp. My friend’s been bugging me to come here, get it checked out.”
Your conversation pauses as you take her vitals. Everything is in a normal range.
“The group…” You break the silence, looking down. “Are they a concern?”
“They’re gone, if that’s what you’re asking.”
You felt a light blush rise on your cheeks. Ellie was so strong, and brave. It showed, even in the way she just talks about her patrols.
You flit your eyes back up, trying to refocus. “So can I see? The wound?”
“Oh. Right.” Ellie’s fingers dip down to grab the hem of her shirt, and pull up. For a moment, you only see her toned stomach. You try not to get distracted.
Then you see the bandage under her ribcage.
Your fingers are gentle when they graze over the gauze. It’s a barrier, but Ellie swears it’s like you’re touching her directly. You move to peel it off of her.
Ellie absentmindedly sucks her breath in through her teeth. You whisper a small apology.
“It’s not… bad right?” She says after a moment. “I mean, I’ve had worse.”
She made a mental note to get onto Dina. This whole thing made her look like a fucking pussy.
“I’m sure you have,” You smile meekly, examining the cut. “No… not bad.”
After washing off your hands, you pull up a chair in front of Ellie. She watches you carefully as you sigh.
“Won’t need stitches, and no signs of infection.” You add. “But I can at least disinfect it and send you off with some new dressing.”
“I mean, it’s fine, I can—“
“No, let me.” You say quickly, cutting off her retort. “You’re already here, right?”
Ellie opens her mouth, then closes it. You had a point. She merely nods instead.
You reach down for the bucket of clean water. When you come back up, you notice Ellie has removed her shirt completely. The only thing clinging to her upper body is a flimsy sports bra.
“Oh,” You all but whisper accidentally.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
The rag becomes stained as you wipe the area. A few swishes, and the water in the bucket has turned a cloudy mahogany.
“So… your friend,” You add. “Was it Dina?”
Ellie raises her eyebrows slightly. “Uh, yeah. Yeah.”
“She must really care about you.” You say quietly. It takes Ellie a moment to realize what you’re implying. She’s quick to answer.
“Oh, yeah. Not like that anymore, though. It’s… just friends now.”
You take that as confirmation that their relationship ended. And even though in a way you were happy to find out Ellie is now single, it would be rude not to apologize.
“Oh.” You mumble. “Sorry.”
She looks down. “It’s cool.”
You disinfect the wound with some alcohol before applying new dressing with gentle fingertips. You smile up at the brunette.
“Good as new.”
She feels herself smiling back. She wants to kick herself; she didn’t even wanna be here in the first place. But now it doesn’t feel like a mistake after all.
“Thanks,” She says. Her gaze has softened.
You grab something out of the cabinet. Ellie realizes it’s fresh bandages when you outstretch your hand to her.
“So, just… use these. Every couple hours, change it out, till it scabs over. If you ever need more you know where to get it.”
Ellie knows this. But she realizes that she likes hearing you talk, so she thinks of something else to ask.
“Uh, and how do I know what to look for? If I have an infection?”
“Oh,” You say. “Here, lay back. I’ll show you.”
Something about the way you’re hovering over Ellie has her stomach fluttering. You were so tentative. Why hadn’t she tried to talk to you sooner?
“Gotta check it everytime you change your dressing. If it smells weird, or feels hot…”
Your fingers trace over her body yet again. Her eyes are stuck on you, the way your hair falls into your face. The way your lips move to explain everything. Not to mention how soft your skin felt on hers.
She thought the whole “hot nurse” trope was something that only happened in movies. It was pretty clear now that she was wrong.
“Got it?”
“What?”
Shit. She wasn’t listening.
“Do you get it now?” You repeat, looking down at Ellie.
She blinks before propping herself up with her elbows. “Uh… yeah. Think so.”
You smile again, leaning back so you’re no longer positioned over her. You take your place against the counter.
Ellie didn’t hear a word. But she’ll make the effort now to be extra gentle with herself, because of you. If that’s worth anything.
Silence fills the room once again as Ellie pulls her shirt back over her head. You sneak in one last glimpse before she’s fully clothed.
“If something changes you can always come back and see me.” You add with a breathy laugh. “I’m in here, like, all the time.”
“Oh yeah?” She asks, looking up at you. “I’ll have to stop by again sometime, then.”
Your heart skips a beat. Is she trying to flirt with you? No, it’s probably nothing.
You clear your throat. “Hopefully not under these circumstances.”
“Right,” She says. Her eyes widen as she realized she’s extended her stay. “I’ll, um… I’ll go. Get out of your hair.”
Ellie’s never used that expression before. She nearly facepalms. So stupid.
But then you laugh a little, and it’s such a beautiful sound when it hits her ears.
“I don’t mind.” You add bashfully. “But… you need to rest and get better. Go back to kicking ass, all that stuff.”
Ellie feels her face wanting to turn red again. You were so sappy, and shameless with it. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, really. She didn’t think people like you even existed at all anymore.
She merely hums, unable to find the right words to say. If she sticks around any longer, she might actually develop feelings for you as if she hasn’t already. So she opts to bid you goodbye.
“Well… see you around.”
You nod, watching her head for the door. You hold the clipboard to your chest in an effort to soften your heartbeat.
“Night, Ellie.”
— part two
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peachypinkygloss · 10 months
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sleepover — ksj, pjm
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You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.
☆ pairing: best friend!seokjin x fem!reader x best friend!jimin
☆ genre: roommates au, best friends with benefits, smut
☆ word count: 7.3k
☆ warnings: evil jin & jimin cus i can't write them if they aren't meanies (they're still cuties 💘), reader's kinda a bimbo and a crybaby oops, roommates jinmin, a bit of possessiveness 🤫, pussy drunk jimin <3 (he could drown himself in it istg), dicks analysis 🤓 (i love doing that, sorry not sorry), threesome, unprotected sex, degradation, edging, oral (f & m), fingering, lil bit of anal play 🙊, cum eating, and btw kissing is overrated.
a.n.: fucking finally ‼️ this is me signing up for hell. jinmin turned me into a helpless romantic whore. ... idk how my characters are supposed to interact outside of sex ☠️ sorry
"Hi."
Seokjin greets you as a huge grin forms on his face. He leans on the door he just opened, eyeing you up and down before hiding his other hand in the pocket of his shorts. You recognize them to be his basketball ones, his favourite and lucky pair of shorts.
"Hello," you say in return, passing by him to enter his dorm room he shares with Jimin.
His eyes follow you, lingering on your body shamelessly. You're already dressed for the sleepover, having chosen to wear your Snoopy themed night shorts with a random t-shirt you own since high school.
You turn around, catching Seokjin staring at you at the same time. Fortunately, you're not that bright so you don't question him. You probably didn't even notice his eyes were on you anyway.
"Where's Jiminie?" You ask him, voice pouty and disappointed to not see your other best friend in the room with you.
After he closes the door behind him, he walks up to you. He almost wants to laugh at the height difference you share. He can see the top of your head, well, he would if you hadn't your head tilted upward to look at him.
He's much taller and larger than you. It does something to him. Is he old fashioned for preferring his women shorter than him? Maybe, but screw it. It attracts him, he can't deny it, especially when the woman in question is you.
"He'll be back soon," he answers, watching how your hold on the strap of your backpack twitches when he steps closer to you. "He went to take a quick shower. Didn't want to stink after his practice," Seokjin explains and you nod, quickly backing away and throwing your bag on Jimin's bed.
He doesn't mean to make you anxious. It's not his fault if his proximity cuts your breath short, but he finds it cute. Really fucking cute.
Jimin's bed is placed on the left side of the room while Seokjin's bed is on the right. Their dorm is minimalist in terms of decoration because in terms of mess... it's the opposite. Typical of a young man's room — of a two young men's room.
It's not super messy where you can't even see the floor beneath your feet, but a box of empty beer bottles is chilling beside their mini-fridge and dirty clothes are scattered everywhere as well as school furniture.
As unpleasant as it seems, you feel good in their room.
And anyway, they know how to clean, they just don't really do it. What's new?
"Sorry for the wait!" Jimin exclaims as he enters the dorm, coming in with his used towel around his shoulders. He shakes his head, trying to get his wet brown hair away from his face. "The shower I normally use was broken, so I had to use another one and the stupid curtain was sticking to my ass," he loudly complains and removes his sandals by throwing them in a corner by the entry, walking up to you.
"That's why I don't pull the curtain," Seokjin says, always having the best but also weirdest advice. "Doesn't bother me anymore."
Jimin winces, giving him a dirty look. "You're fucked up for that," he accuses Seokjin, laying his towel on the back of his chair so it can dry properly. "There's water everywhere if you don't pull it."
"And you make weird eye contact with people," you add on, Jimin agreeing with you with a 'yeah' and a nod of his head.
Seokjin rolls his eyes as if you and Jimin are the weird ones when everybody knows damn well it's fucked up to not pull the shower curtain.
"Nah, just close your eyes," he persists, believing he's in the right and you both are in the wrong. "And anyway, it's better than having the curtain sticking to your butt every time someone enters the shower room. Plus, there's a drain for the water, so fuck you."
You gasp offendedly when he insults you, giving him a tap on the chest to scold him for his bad words. He only smirks at the hit, wanting to tell you it tickles as a way to tease you, but he knows you hate it when he laughs at your lack of strength.
"Don't say that!" You reprimand, staring at him severely and he thinks you just look so cute. It's unfortunate how he'll never take your anger seriously.
He grabs your wrist, stopping from giving him another hit as he can't help but laugh at your facial expression. "I wasn't saying it to you, babe," he rectifies, pulling you closer to him by the hold he has on your arm. Your face is then a couple inches away from his, the corner of his mouth twitching up, as always. "Just to him 'cause he deserves it, but not you."
You look at him in the eyes, breath quickening as his plump lips seem way too close to yours. You notice his gaze shifting between your lips and eyes, understanding the idea he has in mind. You don't let him think about it too much.
"You're stupid," you mumble as you detach yourself from him, putting a safe distance between you two.
You glimpse in Jimin's way, hoping he didn't see how Seokjin was literally asking for a kiss, but he's busy tidying up his hygiene products he brought to his shower.
Seokjin's eyes haven't left you, still looking at you with a smug smile on his face, but he stops when his friend turns around.
"Ok, so... what movie do we watch?"
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈•゚。
"There's no more soda," Seokjin announces, looking inside their almost empty mini-fridge. It would be time to go to the grocery store.
"But I need one!" You whine from where you are laid down on Seokjin's bed, previously sandwiched between the two men with Jimin's laptop on your lap to watch a movie. "I'm thirsty and water won't hit the same..."
Seokjin sighs, knowing he'll give in to your whims. How can he resist your adorable face and your pouty voice? You're their spoiled best friend, after all.
"I have to go to the convenience store..." He explains, hoping it'll make you change your mind and go with water instead of a soda.
You keep the same expression, big rounded eyes and corners of your lips tug downward. "Yeah?" You say back, not bothered to make him walk miles just for a little can of soft drink. "Please, you'd be a sweetheart, Jinnie," you flatter him, using compliments to make him give in and it works, as always.
"Okay..." He sighs again, upset for being so weak with you. You deserve it, but he's not really willing to leave you alone with Jimin, especially with the smug smile he has on his face right now.
"Bring some candies, too," you ask while he's searching through his wallet to check if he has enough coins.
"And chips," Jimin adds in, smirking like a devious child. "Oh, and ramen, since we're at it."
Seokjin narrows his eyes at him, well aware that his friend has something in mind, but he can't tell what exactly. "Do you have the money for it?"
"You do," he replies quickly, snuggling himself closer to you.
"I'm not paying for your shit, Jimin," Seokjin says back, putting his coins in the pocket of his basketball shorts.
"Ah, come on, hyung!" Jimin groans, but his friend doesn't want to hear him.
He picks up a pair of dirty jeans off the floor, knowing Jimin hides his coins in there. He pulls out a couple, not really caring if he takes more than he needs to.
He puts on his sneakers and brings his phone and keys with him, opening the door. "Don't wait for me!" He yells before exiting his dorm room he shares with Jimin, door closing behind him.
As you're about to press on the spacebar to resume the movie, Jimin closes his laptop, extending his body over yours to drop off the electronic device on the floor.
"What are you doing?" You question him, confused.
"Waiting for Jin."
"But he said-"
He cuts you off, putting his index finger over his lips. "Shut up, will you, princess?" He smiles when you don't dare to open your mouth again, looking at him with widened eyes and pouty lips.
He hovers over you, one hand supporting his weight on each side of your body. He rapidly settles himself between your legs, lowering himself slowly, looking deeply into your eyes. Your heart accelerates and your stomach twists, starting to get nervous about what Jimin is about to do.
He carefully lifts your pyjama top over your belly, making you involuntarily flinch when his lips brush against your skin. He glances at you when you move, but he doesn't say anything. He just looks at you with his piercing gaze as a warning or maybe as a way to reassure you, telling you that you don't have to be anxious.
You swallow in a whine when his pillowy lips lay on your stomach, leaving you bothered and hot by the simplest action, yet the most meaningful at the same time. He kisses your skin, his lips trailing down until they reach the band of your night shorts.
You shiver, swallowing again, the area between your legs heating up as he gives your stomach more kisses. They are wet and warm as well as intimate and sexual.
He presses his plump lips down on you, the tip of his nose touching your skin as he gets terribly close to your crotch. You're flustered by the way he explores this area of your body you never knew was this sensitive until now.
His hands grip the fat of your hips, gripping hard, but it doesn't pain you. It cuts your breath short and makes you feel possessed, like he owns you. Owns your body, owns your emotions because there's nobody else at the moment other than him who makes you feel this way.
His hands on your hips shift down to your clothes that separate you from his insatiable mouth. It's as if it's searching for you, searching for your core that is turning wetter as the time passes incredibly slow.
His lips travel between your thighs and you open them for him, not thinking once about anything else than his mouth on your private parts. His fingers tease you by slipping under the band of your shorts before slipping back up, doing it over again. He pulls them slightly down, but stops since he likes torturing you.
"Are you going to... to, um…" You lose your words, gasping loudly when his mouth finds your bud of nerves, already aching from the lack of contact.
He doesn't stay long, going up just above your pelvis, pulling down on your shorts by hooking two fingers under them at the front. "Yeah," he whispers, confirming your doubts.
You feel his hot breath on your skin, locking eyes with him as he continues to pull, also bringing down your panties. "Like... like the last time?" You ask in a little voice, which makes Jimin smirk.
"Like the last time," he repeats before concentrating back on his task.
He attacks your stomach in kisses, distracting you from the fact that he's now using his two hands to get your shorts and underwear off of you. It works, you don't fight back and only bury your fingers in his thick soft hair.
Rapidly, your clothes find a spot on the floor, being long forgotten the moment Jimin puts his mouth on your pussy. He licks a long strip from your leaking hole up to your clitoris, wrapping his lips around it. He passes his arms around your hips and your legs hang on his shoulders, clad feet touching his lower back.
He nibbles on your clit, suckling on it, making it puffy and swollen. He sucks avidly on your bud and million tingles pass through your body. You buck your hips upward by instinct, pushing down on his head and gripping his hair between your fists.
You moan sweetly, Jimin's cock hardening in his shorts at the beautiful sounds you let out each time he sucks and licks, giving you the impression that he's literally making out with your pussy.
You imprison his head between your plush thighs and he likes the feeling of it, he likes it very much. He's happy to know he makes you feel good, so good that you could suffocate him between your thighs. You do this because you're agitated, squirming around under him and moaning, sounding almost like cute little meows.
His head of silky brown hair peeks out from between your legs and your stomach flutters at the sight, your mind fuzzy from thousand little clouds.
He suckles on your clit and you lack the words to describe the feeling, but it's wet, so wet. His tongue is everywhere, teasing and licking like it’s second nature to him. At this very moment, you believe Jimin was born to eat pussy and nothing else.
He ruts his hips against the mattress and lets out a deep moan, cock aching from being restricted in its confines. The wet sounds your cunt produces turn him on so bad, dick painfully hard at the melody of your moans and at the way you shove him against your pussy as if his head wasn't already buried between your legs.
It's a lot for you, your fingers can't compete against his mouth — they would lose instantly. If Seokjin knew what you two were doing right now, you can't imagine what his reaction would be. You wonder if he knows about last time, there's no way he doesn't, Jimin hides nothing from him.
If he knows, then why did he leave you alone with his friend who is incapable of keeping his tongue in his mouth, away from your cunt? That's why he was so hesitant. You feel bad, you shouldn't be doing this behind his back... No, you shouldn't be doing this at all. Or should you?
Is Seokjin's tongue as skillful as Jimin's? As wet and warm? Surely, with his pair of heart-shaped lips you can only imagine what they would do to your poor little clit.
You moan at the thought, twisting Jimin's hair in your small fists, coming closer to your orgasm. It doesn't take you a lot, a few licks and he has you over the edge. With skills like his, you're sure to be in seventh heaven really quickly.
So quickly and intensely that you don't even hear the door opening and closing, nor does your best friend.
"Jimin, what the fuck!?"
You knit your eyebrows at the sudden exclamation, but don't give it much importance as you feel your orgasm coming. Your pleasure is cut short and you get frustrated really fast.
"No, no, no," you panic, feeling Jimin's mouth leaving your pussy. You pull on his hair to have him back against you, but he doesn't budge.
"What?" Jimin responds nonchalantly, looking at Seokjin who has just entered the dorm with sodas and snacks bought at the convenience store down the street. "Don't you want the poor girl to cum?" He smirks like the situation is totally normal.
And maybe it is normal. It's not the first time he's gotten his way with you, it surely won't be the last. You're stupid enough to not see the way your friends look at you, how they undress you with their eyes and how they lick their lips salaciously whenever you find yourself in a compromising position.
They are perverts, but with you they are more than that and you're about to find it out.
You turn your head toward Seokjin who's standing beside the bed, a crease between his dark eyebrows. His gaze is sharp, mad at you for being such a whore, but can he really blame you when Jimin's lips are so tempting, literally breathtaking.
"Oh, please, Jinnie!" You beg, clit pulsating. Having Jimin's mouth just over your cunt is agonizing, so hurtful when he could soothe the ache between your legs in less than a second.
"What are you begging for, hm?" He says, his voice husky, making your stomach twist. You whine, eyes watering at how badly you need this release. "Can you tell me instead of crying like a little slut?"
Jimin looks at you from his spot between your thighs, smiling devilishly with no intention of helping you unless you follow Seokjin's order. You find it unfair and kind of dumb because if he had come in just a minute later, you would've orgasmed by the time. And it would have been magical.
Sloppy kisses are given to your inner thighs and you swear Jimin is doing it on purpose. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hands, taking a deep breath before locking eyes with Seokjin. "Please, can I cum?"
"I don't know," he answers curtly and you frown even more. He approaches you and lean over you, taking a hold of your jaw, angling it in his direction. "How badly do you want it?" He whispers, his pink lips so close to yours, you can't help but stare at them.
"I- I," you stutter out, totally braindead and on the verge of tears. It shouldn't be that hard to say a complete sentence, but right now, it is. You surely look pathetic, crying for a stupid orgasm. "Please, want it badly."
"Good girl," he purrs when you finally say the words he wanted to hear. "Yes, you can, sweetheart," he gives his approval and your eyes light up.
Jimin doesn't wait to get back into it, lips already on your clit when Seokjin lets go of your face. You both look down at where Jimin's mouth operates, slurping up your arousal and flickering your little bud of nerves with his pink muscle.
You whine and grip his hair, tangling your fingers in it. You jut your hips upward in his face, his licks and sucks much more powerful than previously.
You're brought back to the edge of your orgasm in little time, mouth agape as you close your legs around Jimin's head. Seokjin takes the opportunity to insert two of his fingers in your mouth, going deep and pressing his digits down on your tongue.
You close your lips around him and you ask yourself if he's verifying how much you can handle at once. If you can take his long fingers, you're surely capable of taking something else way bigger.
You drool all over yourself and wince at the wet feeling, not really appreciating it. You moan around his fingers as you rock your hips in Jimin's face, the knot in your stomach ripping apart. The pleasure is intoxicating and ten times more intense. Who would've thought Jimin's mouth can turn such a little orgasm into a literal tsunami.
You cum hard while still having Seokjin's fingers knuckles deep in your mouth. You hear Jimin groaning at the pain you inflict on him by pulling on his hair, but he loves the pain and loves even more your cunt rubbing in his face.
Jimin removes your thighs off of his shoulders and pushes them over your stomach. He savours your arousal dripping down from your hole, drinking it like a thirsty man as if it was his only source of water. He makes out with your pussy and this time it's not just an impression. He's opening and closing his mouth on you, sucking on your lips like he would do if he was kissing you.
Seokjin retracts his digits from your mouth and slaps the side of your face with his wet fingers, cupping your jaw after. "Happy? You got what you wanted, greedy little girl," he rasps out, gritting his teeth.
He's so hot when he grits his teeth. He has this look in his eyes, one that makes goosebumps run down your spine. He seems mad, upset you've let Jimin get into your pants so easily without a second thought. Or mad because you didn't wait for him. Well, according to Jimin it's what you were doing, but you shouldn't have started without him. If only you knew you were about to start that.
"Yes," you nod, muttering the word. Seokjin holds your face tightly, fingers pressing on your cheeks, jutting your lips out.
Jimin gets up on his knees and your heart does a flip in your chest at the view of him with his hair tousled, knowing you're the cause of this beautiful mess. His lips and chin are drenched in your juices. He licks them clean and wipes his chin with his hand, flashing you a devious smile after.
"She's just a dumb little girl, now," he teases, bulge very apparent in his shorts. "Did you have a good time, hm? Grinding on my tongue like a deprived virgin?"
Seokjin frees your face to cup your cunt instead, slapping it a couple of times, making you squirm out of overstimulation. "She sure did," he agrees, licking your arousal off his fingers before speaking up again. "Look at her. No thoughts behind those pretty eyes."
You want to say something back, but you can only produce a pathetic whimper.
Jimin is about to lower his shorts over his crotch when Seokjin stops him. "What are you doing?" He asks with a scowl on his face.
"Well, it's my turn," he answers casually, but Seokjin doesn't really agree with him. "I got her all wet, I deserve that pussy."
"Yeah, and you did it behind my back. It's only fair I get to it first-"
"No..." You grumble, interrupting your friend. They both look at you, intrigued with what you have to say. "Stop fighting. I get to decide who enters me." You roll over, getting on your stomach and then on all fours to escape Jimin. You sit up, flicking your eyes between the two men. "And nobody will."
"What!? Why!" Jimin exclaims while Seokjin scoffs. It's stupidly easy to piss them off.
You place yourself over the edge of the bed, your back facing Seokjin and your clad feet hanging off the mattress. You grab Jimin's hand to bring him over to you. You sit on your calves, opening your legs wider and leaning on your hands while Jimin is placed on his knees, back straight.
You look over your shoulder and point at Seokjin where he should be. "Kneel here," you instruct, pointing to the spot just behind you.
You smile when he gets on his knees and he grins back at you, knowing your greedy little pussy wants more. Two pairs of plump lips on your sex on the same day? Blissful.
But you should know Seokjin isn't really the type to follow orders, far away from obeying to your selfish little rules. He's the one who commands, not the opposite. Never the opposite.
"Jimin," you tug on his shorts, making him look down at you.
He smiles sweetly, cradling your face in his warm hands. "Yeah, princess?" He purses his lips as if to send you a kiss. "Wanna suck on my dick? Is that what you want?" He coos, saying such lewd words in a soft voice.
"Please."
He groans appreciatively at your pleading, his cock twitching happily in his briefs. "Get rid of that first, baby," he demands, pulling your pyjama top off of you, revealing your breasts to him. "Perfect..." He purrs, fumbling your tits in his palms before reaching for the band of his shorts.
At the same time Jimin's pulling his cock out, you feel your asscheeks being pushed apart and a big glob of spit falling down between them, dripping down over your puckered hole. You gasp when a thumb comes to stroke the muscle, lubricating it.
You can't really focus on what's happening behind when Jimin's angry erection stands proud just before your eyes. You moan at the sight, having never thought that seeing your best friend's dick would have been so arousing.
He's perfectly girthy, his head a cute shade of pink and glistening in pre-cum. He's not super veiny, but you can sense the weight of it. Looking at it makes you hungry, salivating like a dog in front of a bowl of food.
Jimin is not shaved and you love it. He has two well defined shallow grooves on his abdomen going from his hip bone to his pubis, accentuating how slim and muscled his body is. A few veins pulse out on his abdomen, going down to his pubis, and you want to pass your tongue over each one of them.
You open your mouth, Jimin guiding his cock toward your mouth, but it's at that moment that Seokjin plunges two fingers in your cunt. You moan out, knitting your eyebrows as he reaches a sensitive spot right away. He scissors your insides, and even if you said nobody would fuck you, you think he's stretching you out exactly for that.
"Shhh," Jimin tries to soothe you, patting your head in an endearing manner. "Keep your mouth open, baby." You do so and he doesn't hesitate to penetrate it, moaning in relief as he puts a hand at the back of your head to keep it steady.
He keeps a hand around his base to guide it in your mouth and you relax your jaw, letting him stuff you full of his cock. You want to reach the end so bad, pleasure Jimin like he did with you, but he feeds you his dick slowly, too slowly.
You've never been that eager, that impatient to suck a cock. You want to make him cum, to satisfy him. You want him to use you, use you like you're worth nothing more than a sexual object. He can ruin you, fuck your throat with his fat cock, you only care about his — their — pleasure.
He holds your head, letting go of his cock when he considers he's far enough in. "Ah, what a good fucking whore," he praises breathily, watching the way your lips wrap tightly around his stiff erection, drool dripping down on your chin from being so full.
You bat your eyelashes at Jimin, feeling your eyes stinging. He growls when your eyes connect, his fluffy bangs covering his beautiful almond shaped eyes.
You can't see Seokjin's movements, but you can feel everything. His breaths, the calluses on his hand palming your butt, his long fingers pounding into you, his thumb teasing your rim, you feel it all.
He lays his tongue flat over your cunt where his fingers operate, licking a long trail until he reaches your other hole. You clench around him, a little bit taken back by his obsession with your ass, but still really turned on.
It's nowhere near uncomfortable, though it's not an area you usually explore when you're alone. You keep your jaw slack for Jimin as he starts to thrust in back and forth at a slow pace. He doesn't move much, most of his length stays in your mouth. It's enough friction for him to enjoy, hearing his soft moans above you.
You arch your back to Seokjin's pleasure and he groans pleasantly, having his head buried between your cheeks. He curls his fingers in you and pat gently the spongy spot in you, making you moan obscenely around Jimin's thick cock.
It sends delicious vibrations through Jimin's body and he opens his mouth in pleasure, pushing his cock in deeper. He frowns adorably while his mouth is ajar, watching his meaty length disappear and reappear between your swollen lips.
Seokjin's traces your empty hole with the tip of his tongue, teasing you and making you contract around his fingers so hard he has difficulty to move in. He slaps your ass and your whine is muffled because of Jimin's cock in your mouth. You unclench and he can finally move in freely.
He pulls on one cheek while he kisses and licks around your rim, sometimes going in just a little. You push your behind onto Seokjin, eliciting another groan from him, angry or maybe satisfied, you have no idea.
You're trapped between your two male best friends and you don't know what to think, mind so dizzy, potentially ready to explode. One feeds you his cock, the other eats your ass while fingering your pussy. How can your brain function correctly in this situation? Well, it cannot.
"So fucking impatient," Seokjin observes, now entering a bit of his thumb into your hole. The stretch is weird, but it tingles at the same.
He removes his two digits from your drenched pussy, making you whimper around Jimin, spreading your wetness over your puckered hole after he extracted his thumb. You feel the dampness between your cheeks, purring when Seokjin brings up more arousal.
He pulls your two globs of flesh apart, coming to lick your ass again. You feel his nose pressing down on you and the teasing tip of pink muscle tickling your tight hole. He almost cleans you off of your juices, leaving only his saliva and the insatiable hunger he has for your ass.
Your eyes roll back and Jimin sees it, gripping your hair at the top of your head in a tight fist. You let out a painful long whine, loving the burning sting and the stretch of your ass Seokjin offers you.
Jimin guides the bounces of your head on his cock, doing long and rhythmic thrusts. He groans deeply, the sound coming from his throat, and you mewl in return.
His face is all puffy, cheeks coloured in red, breath shallow and lips dried. He licks them, swallowing in a breathy moan after. He looks delectable, his dark gaze planted on you, never once looking away unless it's to watch his thick cock entering your mouth at an exhilarating pace.
You feel digits stroking your rim, teasing a bit before Seokjin spits on it. "I should fuck that tight ass," he states as he spreads his saliva, dipping in his thumb slightly. "For fucking with Jimin behind my back." He passes a finger over your slicks, noticing how wet you are.
You want to protest, hearing Seokjin standing up on his feet after his scary, but tempting threat. You're about to pull out when Jimin pushes down on your head, keeping it in place. "Ah, shit..." He hisses, feeling you swallowing around him.
It's not long until you sense a long cock sliding over your drenched cunt and you look worryingly at Jimin, but he only smiles at you, still holding your head down.
Seokjin pushes his bulbous head down your tight ass hole and you clench around nothing, heart beating faster. You wonder if he'd really dare to do it, but you know he's not the kind of guy to do it the... messy way. He's teasing, as always.
"Stop whining, baby," Jimin coos, stroking your cheek delicately. He moves in slightly and you flatten your tongue under his meaty cock. "Relax, m'kay? There's nothing to worry about, it's just us," he reassures you and you close your eyes, letting him use your mouth as he pleases.
You finally feel his cock penetrating you, sliding in your pussy in one motion. Your wetness allows him to enter you with ease, making you moan around Jimin's hard dick. One hand strokes your back, big palm caressing your sweaty skin, passing over the bumps of your spinal column.
"She's fucking tight, sucking me in like crazy," Seokjin rasps out, smacking one of your asscheeks, making your flesh jiggle from the force of the hit. "Acts like she doesn't wanna get fucked, but that's all she's been dreaming about..."
You whine, wanting to say something, but you can't while having a full mouth. "Such a dirty girl, aren't you, princess?" Jimin purrs, perfect pink lips curving upward into an evil smile.
He refrains a lewd moan from escaping his mouth by biting down on his bottom lip, fist pulling harder on your hair. You do your best to breathe through your nose, focusing on your gag reflex and hollowing your cheeks to maximize his pleasure.
"Ah, fuck-!" Jimin frowns and grits his teeth, too close to his high to continue fucking your mouth. He yanks your head back, pulling out of you in an instant.
His cock twitches after he analyses your face, looking absolutely destroyed. You breathe with difficulty, cheeks stained by your tears and chin by your drool. You blink several times, looking back into his eyes before moaning out loudly, leaning yourself on Jimin.
Seokjin doesn't miss your sweet spot and it's too intense for you, holding on to Jimin for some emotional support. You grip the sides of his t-shirt, sticking the side of your face to his chest, crying against him all while you're getting fucked by one of your best friends.
Jimin can't help but play with your dangling breasts, fumbling the plushy flesh in his rough palms and pulling on your nipples. It makes you arch your back, leaning on Jimin's touch and pushing your hips against Seokjin's.
The man behind you grips your hips tightly, sinking his fingers into your soft flesh, leaving your poor skin sore and the marks of his fingertips behind. He snaps his hips against yours roughly and he seems to never get enough, driving his cock into your wet pussy like a mad man.
Jimin's erection stands just before your eyes, glistening in your spit and hard as rock. He sees you looking at it so he grabs it, guiding it to your lips. "Wanna suck it, baby?" He asks in his sweet voice and you glimpse up at him, drooling on his t-shirt, looking totally braindead. "Don't be shy, open your mouth..."
You part your lips to mouth at the reddened tip, suckling on it gently. Jimin hums, stroking your hair delicately, the opposite of Seokjin's actions who pounds into you with force, using you to get himself off.
Suddenly, he steadies his hips against your ass, stopping his vigorous hip thrusts. He then pulls out and your legs fail you, no longer strong enough to stand on their own without him holding you up. You cry, letting go of Jimin's cock and glancing over your shoulder to see Seokjin getting rid of his long-sleeved t-shirt.
"Do you want to switch?" Jimin questions his hyung and this one nods, catching his breath.
"Yeah," he breathes out a positive answer.
Jimin smirks down at you. "Come here, baby," he softly instructs, grabbing your bicep and bringing you to the head of the bed. He takes off his sweats before stretching out his legs and leaning his head on the pillows. "Turn around, show me this little ass."
You straddle his lap how he wants it and you see Seokjin following you, gently tugging at his aching cock covered in your juices. He's long and curvy, but he looks less stiff than Jimin. You suppose he's the type to get more length when erect, unlike his friend.
"Come on, princess, put it in," Jimin smiles and you look at him, shuddering in desire at his words. "Sit on it," he insists.
"Yes, Minnie," you sigh out of exhaustion.
You take his wet cock in your hand and angle it toward your leaking hole, moaning softly when you sink down on him. The stretch of your cunt is good, feeling completely full. He twitches happily in you, Jimin extending his arms to grip your hips possessively.
You moan in unison, Jimin letting out a long grunt and you a loud whine. He doesn't reach as deep as Seokjin, but he fills you up really well.
"Oh, fuck," Jimin curses, biting down on his bottom lip out of pleasure. "Go ahead, ride me, baby," he softly demands and you oblige happily.
You start doing a grind motion, leaning on Jimin's thighs to keep your balance. He runs his palms all over your body, appreciating your curves and the way you move your hips on him to pleasure yourself.
Seokjin grips your chin, making you face his angry erection, his hand wrapped around it. "Show me how good of a slut you are, sweetheart," he sings, tucking a wild strand of hair behind your ear.
His long fingers stroke his cock, but they stop at the base when you tilt your head down, catching his swollen tip in your mouth. He hums appreciatively and passes his fingers through your hair, now wet by your sweat. He collects your hair in an improvised ponytail, keeping them away from your face.
You bob your head over his long cock, stroking the base with one of your palms since you can't fit all of him in your mouth, your other palm still sitting on Jimin's thigh. You hear the beautiful, raspy moans of Seokjin, proud of yourself for making him feel good.
He is smoothly shaved, skin soft and sturdy under your tongue and fingertips. You love the sleek feeling of Seokjin's pubis, although you equally adore the stinging feeling of Jimin's pubic hair against your skin.
You grind on Jimin, doing little motions that are more pleasurable to you, but he still approves, muttering a 'fuck yeah' while directing your hips.
You suck Seokjin as if you were in a porno, bobbing your head over his length and moaning around him exaggeratedly. You don't know where this sudden vigour comes from, but you won't complain. Surely not when he looks impressed, in total admiration.
"Fucking slut," Jimin slurs out, pupil dilated and filled in lust at the sight of a white ring around the base of his cock left by your pussy.
You whine around Seokjin, disagreeing with him, or maybe agreeing. It doesn't matter anyway with the way you clench around him each time he throws bad words at you.
You like how they treat you, as if all those insults were deserved and justified. But they know damn well none of the things they say are true, that's why it's so exciting.
You move in slow circles, Jimin's hands grabbing and slapping your ass. Your juices are everywhere, dripping down on his balls and sticking to his pelvis. It feels a little bit nasty, but you don't think anyone in this room really cares.
It smells so much like sex and you wonder how long it'll take for the odour to go away. Knowing your friends, they could probably never open the windows just to keep the smell of you in. You would dissuade them from it, because come on, but the thought makes you slightly smile.
"Fuck, this mouth is doing wonders," Seokjin compliments and you're ravished to hear that. "Don't know how long I'll last, sweetheart," he announces, looking down at your lips gliding smoothly over his long, curvy cock.
"Same," Jimin adds in, voice raspy and breath erratic.
You're encouraged by that, pleased to know you're making them feel really good. You use your full potential and lift up your hips, dropping them back down on Jimin's dick. You love the stretch, love how his cock pushes your walls to make room for himself, being so big your pussy just can't keep his size.
You take Seokjin's in your mouth, slurping and swallowing around him. He groans, telling you how much he likes you and your wet tongue.
"Okay- Fuck," Seokjin begins, but curses when you cup his balls, innocently glancing up at him. He puts a hand on the top of your head and pushes you away from him, his cock slipping out of your mouth. "I'm taking her pussy, now," he says, still looking at you even though he's addressing Jimin.
"No! Why?" Jimin complains, groaning loudly in disagreement.
"Because I want to," he says back, too stubborn to even consider another option.
"Well, you're gonna let me finish first."
As you lift up your hips, Jimin's cock pulling out of you, he's quick to turn you around and lay you down on the bed where he was positioned previously. Seokjin lets him, rolling his eyes at the childishness of his friend — even though he's not acting very mature either.
Jimin straddles your waist, stroking his cock just over your breasts, licking his lips. You watch his hand running up and down his length rapidly, all coated in your wetness and saliva of earlier.
"Shit, shit- I'm cumming," he hastily warns, fingers wrapped tightly around his dick. He was already close when he was in you, so it doesn't take long until he's brought back close to his high.
His eyes are blown out, looking at your tits like there's nothing sexier than them. His hips stutter and you place your palms on his naked thighs, feeling how hot his skin is.
"Ah! Fuck," he chokes on his words, angling his cock toward your boobs. You look at him emptying himself on your chest, long ropes of white cum landing on your breasts. He keeps stroking obsessively until he spills out everything, little white beads falling from his wet and reddened tip.
He whines a little when it starts to hurt because of overstimulation. He eventually finishes, passing a hand through his hair, removing his wet bangs from covering his eyes. His chest heaves rapidly as he tries to regain a normal breathing.
"Go away, loser."
Jimin sends a murderous glare at Seokjin before clearing the way, sitting down, back against the wall.
Seokjin penetrates you again, locking your shaky legs behind his back. You gasp when he pounds in immediately, not once missing a beat. You sneak a hand between your legs, reaching your pulsating and puffy clit left alone for too long now.
With your other hand, you swipe a finger in Jimin's cum on your boobs, picking it up and bringing it to your mouth. Seokjin watches you eating his friend's cum and he squints his eyes at you, perhaps a little jealous.
"Oh! Jinnie," you mewl, the knot in your stomach tightening from his tip brushing against the sweet spot inside of you and your finger drawing quick circles on your clit.
You lick more cum off your fingers, arching your back and closing your walls around Seokjin's long cock. You moan loudly when you reach your high, milky his dick and clenching repeatedly around him, bringing him close to his high as well.
"Fuck, you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His hips snap against yours and like earlier, they steady on you, cock twitching inside your pussy.
He doesn't pull out this time and paints your insides white in his cum, spurting everything he has deep into you. You sigh of contentment, loving the hot sensation of his cum in your pussy.
"I'm so full, Jinnie," you purrs and he slips out slowly, looking at his seeds dripping out of you as you hole keeps quivering and clenching from your previous orgasm.
He wets his lips, wishing he could see this everyday of the week; you full of his creamy cum. But of course, he's not the only one to want this. He'd have to share.
"Next time, I'm the one cumming inside," Jimin says from where he is, catching a glimpse of the white substance falling out of your hole. "You selfish jerk," he mutters to his friend.
Later on, after Seokjin passed a cloth between your legs and Jimin cleaned the mess he made on your breasts, you fell asleep in Seokjin's bed. The boys finished the movie without you since you were too tired, eyelids closing on their own.
They stayed up late at night, playing video games and eating ramen, sometimes giving each other stupid challenges like doing a certain amount of push-ups in a determined time.
They didn't really disturb your sleep since you were knocked out. Though you sometimes woke up from their voices, you went back to sleep easily. You don't know who slept beside you that night, but you woke up with Jimin's arm around your waist and Seokjin coming back with breakfast.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈•゚。
.
.
.
Do not ask for a part 2.
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daycourtofficial · 2 months
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Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 6
Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.
Author’s note: getting some tension here 👀 and yes the opening scene is inspired by How I Met Your Mother. This ends on a sad note for Azzy Baby so a bit angsty
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Masterlist)
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Azriel isn’t surprised as his front door opens to find you bursting through it, as you had texted him about fifteen minutes ago if you could come over and tell him something. You quickly lock the door behind yourself, turning to face himself and Rhysand.
“So you guys know how Cassian and I got drunk last night after dinner,” you start before Rhys cuts you off with his hand. “Please don’t tell me Cass made it three weeks with a female roommate before having sex with her.”
You grimace at him, “ew, no.”
A look passes between Azriel and Rhys, one you can’t quite make out, but Azriel stands a bit straighter after your words.
“As I was saying - we got drunk, and after you guys left, we were walking down to go get donuts from the place on the corner when we passed a tattoo parlor and we went in.”
After the dinner with Mor last night, Feyre dropped the four of you off and you all had congregated into yours and Cassian’s apartment. You were tipsy for most of the night, Rhys and Az had the slightest hint of a buzz, and Cassian was bordering on blackout because he “wanted to take advantage of not doing anything the next day”.
Your mention of a tattoo parlor got their attention very quickly. You start giggling then, jumping up and down at what you have to tell them. You can’t contain your excitement as you blurt out, “Cassian got a tramp stamp and I don’t think he remembers it.”
They both look at you in shocked silence then start laughing. They start asking a million questions - “what is it? What color is it?” After a minute you tell them, “he’s awake and I know he’ll be over any minute - we have to remain calm. You need to see it.”
You turn back, unlocking the door for Cassian. The three of you wait in pained silence until you hear the knob turning, prompting you and Rhys to begin two completely different conversations to fill the silence.
“So like I said she was hot-“
“My professor is a jackass who wouldn’t -“
Cassian walks in, too hungover to notice the conflicting dialogues. He walks in shirtless and you start practically buzzing in excitement. You send warning glares to his brothers, trying to communicate, “please please please you need to see it before you say anything”.
Cassian groans a greeting to you three, walking past the three of you to open the fridge door. As he searches for whatever it is he wants, the three of you crowd behind him to look at the little blue candy heart that says “babygirl” in pink script tattooed just above his ass.
Rhys shoves his fingers in his mouth to keep from laughing and Azriel’s about to break when you slap a hand over his mouth. You all try so hard to keep from laughing, which makes it that much harder to restrain yourselves.
Rhys cracks first, unable to stop himself as he asks, “are you lost, babygirl,” referencing that godsawful 365 Days movie Cassian made you all watch a few days ago.
The three of you lose it, and Azriel collapses to the floor in giggles, taking you with him. From the ground you watch Cassian’s confused brain try to make sense of why you all were laughing so hard when Rhys slaps right where the fresh tattoo lied and Cassian yelps in pain.
“Oh gods, why does that hurt so much?” He stills, running straight for Azriel’s bathroom. The three of you follow, standing outside the door listening for Cassian’s moment of realization. He screams in shock, running back out, pointing a finger at you.
“You did this!”
“Me?” You ask, between giggles, “I think it was you, babygirl.”
That sends Azriel over the edge again, and he starts giggling into your hair.
“I’m getting it removed asap,” Cassian grounds out, storming out the apartment, leaving the three of you to giggle and mock him a bit more.
-
The week goes by in a blur of classes and project work. You don’t see much of Azriel, but the two of you text frequently after sending him that first message about Cassian’s tattoo.
The two of you would send photos of valentine’s hearts to each other, clearly mocking Cassian, asking, “would this look good on my chest?”
You had spent most of the week glued to your phone, waiting for his responses. Feyre even got mad at you when you had dinner at her place on Wednesday because you kept glancing at your phone while she was telling you something.
You began apologizing, telling her about you and Az texting, when her own phone buzzed taking away her attention. You had sat back as her gaze moved to her phone, hands itching to respond to Rhysand.
“Go on,” you told her, “pot calling the kettle back, I see.”
Today was Friday, so you didn’t have any classes, however you did spend the day TAing for several Organic Chemistry labs, the first of which had Rhysand in it. He had offered to drive you to campus, and after dinner with Feyre, you’re wondering if it’s just so he can talk to you about your friend.
You walked into their apartment, ready to meet Rhysand when you were met with a beautiful girl on their couch. She had long blonde hair in a nest braid on her head, and her silver eyes pierced you as you entered the apartment.
You look around, checking that you’re in the right apartment, and offer her a small smile, trying not to look as shocked as you feel as you shut the door behind yourself.
Was Rhys seeing someone?
She tells you, “I’m Nesta,” and you nod, offering her your own name back. She quirks a small smile at that, leaning back in the seat. “Interesting,” she says, “you’re just like Azriel described.” Her eyes roam up and down your body, and her face remains neutral, not giving you any hint of what she sees.
You want to know more about how Azriel had described you, when the man in question comes out of his room and stops at the sight of you talking to Nesta.
“Hey,” he tells you, and you’re too focused on watching him to notice Nesta roll her eyes at how much he had deepened his voice. She starts to say something, and he realizes it, strolling over to give her his notebook to keep her quiet.
The teasing words die on her tongue, replaced by words of gratitude. Azriel breaks eye contact with her to see you’ve started to stand, saying, “I’m gonna go wait outside - uh clearly you have company.”
Azriel looks at you, your face riddled with confusion and something else he can’t quite place.
“No, don’t worry. I was just leaving. I’ll see you tonight?” She asks, turning back to Azriel, “7?”
You wince at the date they’ve made, and Azriel definitely notices. He nods, “yeah, I’ll see you.”
He walks her to the door, before turning back to you, an interesting look on your face.
“She’s uh nice,” you stammer out, heart beating wildly once he shuts the door behind her.
Of course someone as pretty as Azriel needs someone as striking as Nesta. Were you a fool this whole time? To consider he might harbor affections for you? Was all the texting just niceties between neighbors?
“Not to new people she isn’t,” he replies, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet.
“She was nice to me,” which makes it ten times harder for you to hate her. Your face flushed with embarrassment at having read this whole situation wrong. You are internally pleading with any force in the universe to make Rhys hurry up so you can bury yourself in shame and embarrassment away from Azriel.
“Well that’s because-“ but the words die on his tongue, as Rhys strolls out of his room, clearly hearing your prayers.
“Oh there you are, come on let’s go,” he tells you, grabbing his bookbag, snapping at you like you’re the problem, “we’re going to be late.”
Azriel’s brows furrow, “where are you two headed off to?”
Rhys smiles, “didn’t you know? She’s my lovely TA for O Chem lab.”
-
Azriel pulled up to the building later that night, hopping off his bike after spending hours with Nesta at the library. She was doing a minor in computer science, so she was taking the same electives as Azriel and they met weekly to do their homework together.
Tonight’s topic for review was all about you and how Nesta is certain that you were jealous of her sitting in his apartment and she was equally certain that any man in a city block would be lining up to ask you out.
“Don’t wait too long, Az,” she had told him as they walked towards the parking lot, mostly empty due to how early it was in the semester and the late hour. “She’s awfully pretty and smart. I’d date her.”
She smirked at Azriel’s disapproving look, thanking him for the notes from yesterday’s lecture.
Nesta’s words ring in his head as he spots you at the door of your building, a little black dress adorning your body. He walks closer, opting to leave his helmet on, eyes glued to how the dress covers your curves, and it takes a moment to realize that you’re with someone.
And not just anyone.
A guy. Some guy. Some guy that wasn’t himself.
Fuck, he thinks.
Did he have it all wrong? Were you seeing someone - responding to his texts because of pity? You had been so nice - were you just this nice to everyone? The subtle touches, the quick glances, did he make them all up?
He hadn’t thought much of your lack of communication today - you had told him previously that Fridays are a busy day for you, but now he knows you likely spent the afternoon getting ready for this date.
He keeps the helmet on as he walks past, not even hearing your conversation with the guy. He tries to keep himself from being noticed as he walks right past you, the scent of vanilla and flowers hitting him. He walks through the lobby, straight into the waiting elevator.
His fingers stay pressed on the button that leads to your floor, moving to stay pressed on the “close doors” button. He can’t stomach the sight of you two, and he certainly can’t stomach sharing an elevator with you two, forced into making small talk with your date.
His thoughts whirl and swirl with the texts you had been exchanging all week since you all had dinner together as he leans his helmeted head against the closed elevator doors. Jokes shared between you two into the odd hours of the night.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had stayed up texting someone, not wanting to go to sleep for fear of ending the conversation. He thought he had even heard you laughing through the wall at his dumb jokes. He had even fallen asleep while waiting for your response last night, his phone unlocked next to his face to your chain of texts the first thing he saw that morning.
The doors to the elevator open and he walks to his apartment, unlocking the door, and trudging into his room. He pulls off his helmet, chucking it somewhere in his room. He replaces it with his headphones, cranking the volume up as loud as it will go, to drown out any noise that could filter in from the apartment next door.
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ellephantseals · 3 months
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Will always be under the impression that Astrid should have become the chief of Berk, and not just because she’s a girl and i think it would be cool if a woman was in power.
1. Hiccup… doesn’t want to be chief, even in the end i don’t think he did, i think he just kind of had to, he had no dragon to ride off on whenever somebody tried to tell him to do his job.
2. She says in the second movie how amazing it would be to be chief and was really excited for hiccup and even offerred to take Toothless for rides when he’s busy.
3. She’s good at defence and has a strategic mind. I don’t know how many httyd fans have seen race to the edge, but i’m assuming it’s alot. That entire show shows Astrid planning ahead, protecting the edge and Berk when needed, her original idea for a base was a foretress (which with the trouble they get into they’d need one)
4. Even though she can get a little strict, or work herself too hard, or make a decision that seems brash or violent, Hiccup is there, Hiccup will always be by her side, and if she’s being violent, he will most likely oppose her. I think Astrid trusts Hiccup’s judgement most if the time and would listen to him.
5. We don’t see Hiccup as an actual chief too much, but even just in homecoming he was a mess. I don’t really think Hiccup is cut out for being chief.
The ideal here is that they all kept the dragons, Astrid becomes chief, and Hiccup flies into the clouds with toothless and explores around new Berk, but is there often enough incase Astrid needs him.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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Heya!! can i request for yandere john wick (headcannons or give anything will work)
You probably know which Anon i am. Please forgive me i got a little too happy cuz you write so good for such good stuff!
Yandere John Wick Headcanons
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Warnings: Obsessive Behaviour, Stalking, Snooping, Very Brief Implication of Smut, Just John in Love <333, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You.
A/N: I wanted to get these out before I watch the new John Wick film; one which I have been waiting for for the last 4 years <3
O B S E S S I V E
Absolutely an obsessive lucid yandere – he may be in love, but he’s not delusional.
Regardless of whether you came before or after Helen, John knows how cut-throat his profession is; how quickly everything can go from an is to a was.
Thus, nothing is certain. Not you, not him, not your relationship.
So when he realises he’s in love with you – a process as gradual as the construction of Earth itself – he’s never letting you out of his sight.
This might manifest as something as subtle as him visiting you more than usual, staying, longer during movie nights, trying to get you to spend the night more often; inconspicuous displays of a strengthening friendship you and John had accrued over the last couple years or so.
But, unbeknownst to you, he’s around even when you’re unaware.
An unmarked black car parked a house or two down the street, shielded by the shadows of the trees as moonlight casts a stark white against the black.
An inconspicuously-dressed civilian who’s been sat on that park bench for the last two hours as you read your book.
And, eventually, the tiny camera attached underneath your sofa, monitoring every coming and going of your house.
You know about none of this, of course.
Sure, you may have suspicions that the car down the street – one you’ve never seen before in your life – could be doing something… but who were you to judge ? There could be a perfectly logical explanation !
But John keeps enough of himself – and you – in the dark so you’d never suspect him.
I mean, why would you ? He’s John Wick ! Nicest, quietest guy on the block.
If ever he’s on a mission; John relies on that camera more than he’s like to admit.
In his downtime, while resting up at the Continental, he’ll check his phone, see that you’ve gone to the kitchen to make something or other, and wait for you to return to the sofa until he can put his phone away.
Even with his logical mind, he can’t help but fall partial victim to his superstition that, once you reach the sofa, nothing bad can happen to you.
The idea of putting up more cameras has crossed his mind.
Multiple times.
But you’re attentive. You’d notice something as small as a little blinking light a mile off.
Hencewhy he takes to manual surveillance when he’s not out earning a thriving.
He also lowkey interrogates you.
“You found a boyfriend yet ?”
You give a sharp laugh.
“If I had, you’d be the first to know,”
You already tell John practically everything that happens to you – as best friends do – but whenever you ask John something similar, he’ll skirt around your questions.
“No time for that,” he’ll tell you whenever you try to identify the new mystery partner in his life.
“You’re always so busy, John-John !”
Ah, his nickname. A mythic specialty no other has had the privilege to call him.
And John gives a rare smile.
“I’m never too busy for you.”
And you know he means it.
Whenever you need him, he’s there.
And you try to be there for him as much as possible, but given how elusive he is, he rarely seems to need it.
You want to help as best you can, regardless.
So, one day, out of the blue, you hand John a set of keys.
He’s a smart man. But he can’t wrap his head around what you’re trying to tell him.
And when he stares at you with a narrowed look, your eyes roll, the edges of your lips curling up.
“They’re keys, John,” you say. And you gesture around the living room, general in your manner. “To my house.”
And John stares at you for a moment. Then two.
“(Y/N), I’m not trained to be a housekeeper.”
“Oh my god, John–”
You have to explain to him that you’re not trying to get him to clean your house or care for it. You’re opening it up to him.
“I trust you more than anyone else to know how everything works here,” you say, a hand on his shoulder. He’s trying to keep dead eye contact with you, but the feeling of your fingers holding him with a softness he’s never known is like being branded.
“So,” you smile. “If you ever need it for anything, you can get in.”
Honestly, John has been granted few mercies in his time; makeshift alliances with murderers who were loyal to none, not even themselves, his life saved only by his ability to barter and his renowned skill for death. And never are these mercies granted without a price.
So to have you gift him a set of keys to the place you are most vulnerable takes John a while to come to terms with, shall we say.
Remember earlier when I mentioned John’s idea to install more cameras ?
Well, now you’ve given him a perfect in.
Plus, he now has access to all your personal belongings.
At first, he did try to restrain himself.
Trust me, he did.
But, as the days grew into weeks, your keys sat on his bedside, glinting under any source of light that could find its way inside.
And, as if the Gods aligned circumstance on his favour, you would be away from home for a week.
A trip to such-and-such a place – John had the address memorised even before you did.
You’d best believe that, although he initially had his reservations about 1.) you going on the trip, and 2.) using your absence as a means to snoop around your home, John is not immune to whim and fancy. Especially when it came to you.
He’s phantasmic; he leaves no trace, not even fingerprints as he prowls your apartment, looking for…well, anything, really.
He avoids stooping so low as to rifle through your underwear drawer like a stalker. Instead, he uses what he likes to call ‘environmental storytelling’ to make deductions about you.
He’s a very intuitive, perceptive individual, so the story of your everyday routing unfolds for him as if he were reading a book.
And, yes, the temptation to peek at the…less savoury pieces of your inventory did become overwhelming when he could no longer be satiated with the literature you consumed, the worn look of your favourite outfit, your secret money stash you kept in the biscuit tin in the kitchen.
To make a long story short, John walked out your house with a short of yours.
And, when he got home, he did the only thing he could think to do.
He put it on a pillow and pretended it was you.
Cuddles with it whenever he’s missing you. Or sad.
Maaay have cried into it on more than one occasion.
Maaay have done…other things to it when he wasn’t feeling upset.
He’s absolutely paranoid that you’ll find it one day, despite his aptitude at covering his tracks, so he tries not to invite you to his house as much as he can.
However, as your friendship progresses further, that’s unavoidable.
While you may not be dating yet, just know that John holds you in the highest of regards, and he’ll never let anything – including himself – hurt you.
Just ignore his eye wandering to the walk-in cupboard in the hallway; that’s just where he’s kept his imitation of you.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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always-andromeda · 2 months
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨ 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ୧⋆。˚ ⋆
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Frankie Morales x F!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 3,038
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ After recruiting you to be his plus one for yet another wedding, Frankie can't help but ruminate on and regret the last one he brought you to.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hey, Lolabee!! I'm super excited to finally share that I'm your secret Valentine!! I apologize in advance for posting this so late in the game; exam week has been super hectic. That being said, I decided to give myself a little bit of a challenge and write something for Frankie for the first time ever. I should preface this by saying that when I read your prompt for rom-com vibes, I immediately began filing through all of my favorite rom-coms. And since my current favorite is Plus One, this fic is very much inspired by it!! Happy late Valentine's Day!! (dt: @thelightsandtheroses) (divider credits: @cafekitsune)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ fluff with little bits of angst (regardless, minors, please do not interact), no physical description given to the reader except for the fact that she wears makeup, mentions of alcohol and references to the reader drinking, the slightest references to Frankie's past, this fic is almost entirely removed from the movie's canon (these characters are basically my paper dolls that I'm making do cute things<3), idiots in love, they tease each other, they go to a wedding, misunderstandings occur, but it all works out <3
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“You’re bringing your own tissues this time, right?” Frankie called from where he sat at the edge of the bed. He’d slept in far worse places. But he could already feel new knots forming on top of the old ones in his back. Needless to say, he wasn’t looking forward to spending yet another night attempting to sleep on the dense hotel room mattress.
You replied from the bathroom, “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. I’m prepared.”
“You better be. Because you’re not using my tie to blow your nose again.”
If you were in the room, Frankie could’ve practically felt your glare burning a hole through him. But instead he only heard the clear exasperation in your tone when you answered, “I did not use your tie to blow my nose.”
“Might as well have…” he mumbled. Santi’s wedding had claimed that casualty. By the end of the ceremony you’d soaked his tie in tears and covered it with a fine layer of translucent powder from dabbing your face off. And as much as he teased, he hadn’t minded it. He hadn’t minded it any more than he’d minded the distant friends and relatives who’d assumed that you were his girlfriend. Which…wasn’t an insulting assumption by any means.
The next time – at Benny’s wedding – Frankie brought you tissues. He didn’t like to think about Benny’s wedding. But if there was one thing he was happy about, it was that he’d thought far enough ahead to bring them for you. He was glad to see your smile. To feel your arms wrap around him as you thanked him and told him he was such a sweetheart. He was also grateful for the Hawaiian sun; for the developing sunburn that had prevented you from seeing how much that one nickname made his cheeks flush in that moment.
Your head popped out of the bathroom doorway, your makeup only half done, to aim a smartass smile at him with your lined lips. “Hey, I like to think of it as a gift. You should too.”
“Your ability to cry at the drop of a hat?”
“You're damn right,” you said indignantly.
Frankie sighed, pushing his hair back for about the dozenth time. He then laid back on the bed and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “If we’re lucky, this is the first and last time you’ll need to worry about packing some to begin with. Will’s the last stop on the wedding train.”
The thought almost made him misty eyed. Within a few hours, he’d be the last single man in his crew. The last one awake at the sleepover. Eyes so wide they were practically ablaze staring through the uncertainty of night. Unable to find sleep. Unable to believe he’d ever find it to begin with.
Your voice cut through his trance. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Maybe next year we’ll get an invite for Tom’s second wedding,” you teased. 
Frankie rolled his eyes. At least he could take some sort of comfort in that. Redfly had tried out the whole settling down thing. And it just didn’t work. Frankie wished his buddies well, but he couldn’t help but feel deep down that they’d never be made for domesticity. They weren’t made for teary-eyed speeches and destination weddings. 
“Don’t count on it,” he drawled.
“Don’t count on it,” you mimicked Frankie’s slow, gruff voice which earned a small laugh from him. “I’ll tell you what, I bet you that Ben’s best man speech isn’t going to be nearly as good as Will’s was.”
He attempted to recall what Will had even said only a few months prior. It had to have been good, the man was a public speaker, for Christ’s sake. He guessed, “That one was long, right?”
“Yeah…don’t you remember it? Frankie, were you even there?”
“I was there alright.” He laughed to mask the wince he wanted to let out. Then he cleared his throat, throwing out another vague guess, “But I seem to remember that by the end of it, he needed some damn tissues too.”
“If you had a shithead little brother who managed to get married before he could experience massive head trauma, you’d probably get a little choked up too.” You added more to yourself than to him, “God, Frankie, how do you forget a speech like that? It was fucking beautiful.”
There was a very high likelihood that he had forgotten. Frankie spent almost every day following that entire night trying to forget it. And he wondered how in the world you remembered it either considering how much you’d drank.
If you could remember what Will had said…you should’ve remembered what you’d said too, right? You, standing in the bathroom and observing yourself in the mirror as you combed through your lashes to separate them, had to have known what you said to him that night. Because he knew it. Whether he liked it or not, he had that particular speech memorized with the way it ran through his head.
Frankie had known you were in a tough spot. Hell, it was part of the reason why he’d brought you along; part of the reason why Benny had insisted Frankie take you. 
She just got broken up with, Frankie had tried to reason.
Benny had merely smirked, Which is the exact reason why you should invite her out. Give her a chance to get fucked up. Spend the night with one of the bachelors. It’s the quintessential wedding experience.
Frankie couldn’t have even pretended to mask his disgust at the idea. But he couldn’t lie…bringing you along again sounded leagues above going alone. 
And now, sometimes he wished he had toughed it out instead.
No matter how much he tried to forget, the details always flashed through his mind. The way your fingers ran through his hair. How your touch managed to stay so soft despite how completely out of it you were. But that’s how you’d always been with him. Even at his absolute worst points when he was a less than ideal man, you found some shred of decency inside him that you never hesitated to cradle and nurture.
Maybe that’s what had made those tangles form in his stomach; the idea that he was taking advantage of that kindness.
Because that wasn’t…you. You wouldn’t have done that in your right mind. If your boyfriend hadn’t just broken up with you. If you hadn’t just found out that the entire time Nick had been cheating on you with that woman from accounting in his office. If you hadn’t drank way too much. None of this would be happening if you weren’t at your absolute lowest. 
So he wiped the slate clean. It’d almost always been easy to do that. To simply forget. But he should’ve known better by now. Those things he somehow managed to lock up always found a way to ooze out of the cracks in his facade.
There were a few times Frankie thought you might crack during the ceremony. Especially when Will read out his vows, because of course the guy went the extra mile, delivering them with that stern reverence that made him the kind of guy you wanted on your team. 
But you didn’t cry. This time…you grabbed his hand. It almost didn’t occur to him that you had until Will kissed his now wife and you squeezed Frankie’s hand in excitement. For a moment, he wondered if you’d managed to get a drink in before the ceremony. You couldn’t have; the bar wasn’t supposed to open until afterwards. He knew it couldn’t have been an alcohol induced action but he was still afraid to acknowledge it. 
So he kept as still as possible. Even when the ceremony ended and you began to pull him around the venue. Though he knew his hand was getting clammier with every minute that passed, he let you drag him around the little circles of friends and family of the bride and groom. He had checked out enough that he didn’t quite realize what he’d gotten himself into until you were bringing him to the dance floor and positioning his hands on your hips.
Only when you let go of his hand and placed your own on his shoulders did it strike him how similar this felt to that night at Benny’s wedding.
You spoke like you were treading thin ice. “That speech was…surprisingly alright.”
“And you didn’t cry,” he remarked equally as carefully.
“I didn’t cry!” you exclaimed.
“It would’ve been fine if you had.”
You shook your head, “That wasn’t the kind of speech you cry at. It was simple. Sweet. I liked it. Who would’ve thought Benny’d have it in him, right?”
“So what do you do for that kind of speech?” Frankie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“A polite clap. Maybe a cheer.”
“A cheer? Maybe you should’ve brought your pom poms instead of tissues.”
The way you scrunched up your nose into a playful grimace tugged at his heartstrings. Then you laughed, “Shut up.” God, he loved when you and him fell into this groove. 
So he continued with the bit, “You should get some for Tom’s wedding. The guy deserves a whole damn squad if he gets all tied up again.”
“Thought you said I shouldn’t count on it?”
“If you’re gonna count on anyone getting married soon, it’s better if it was him.” Frankie clicked his tongue, “Not like I’m going off the market anytime soon.”
“Oh, Frankie, stop it.” Your smile dropped ever so slightly, eyebrows turned inward as you gazed at him with something akin to pity or sympathy; he wasn’t sure which was worse. “You have no idea what the future could bring.”
“Not a wedding, that’s for damn sure.”
Your expression only intensified. He recognized it well after the amount of times you’d talked him off a ledge. “You can’t just discount the possibility entirely,” you argued.
“I can and I will,” he said stubbornly.
You were quiet for a few seconds, “So you’re telling me you’ve never thought about it? I mean…who would your best man be?”
“I’m not answering that.”
Your lip quirks to the side of your face as you feign a contemplative look before concluding, “Probably Santi.”
“Look at you, you did it for me,” Frankie deadpanned.
“I could plan the whole damn thing for you, don’t test me.”
“Why’s that?”
This time you pressed your lips together. And Frankie swears he felt you stumble over your own feet ever so slightly; like he’d caught you off guard with the query. “Oh, you know…weddings usually aren’t those things that people are eager to plan.”
“But why would you specifically be planning it? Unless you’re–”
A beat passes before you break out into an incredulous grin. “You’d want me to marry you and plan our wedding? That’s a tall order. I’m afraid you’ll have to pick one or the other, sorry.”
Frankie chuckles. He let the remark pass. He always enjoyed this back and forth. How you and him had always been able to bounce off of each other. It was hard enough keeping up with some of the guys. But keeping up with women was a whole different story. He always seemed to be a few steps behind most of them. For some reason, your pace was just perfect. Your humor, your timing, it all clicked with his personality.
Just like you were prone to doing, you broke the silence with an awkward laugh and big eyes staring right into his. “So…which one do you pick?”
He almost didn’t catch the question; almost didn’t want to. “Hm?”
“Would you rather marry me or have me plan your wedding?” you clarify.
“Come on, you know I’m not answering that.”
And the tide shifted once more. Just as quick as you were to smile, your expression melted into one of muted mortification. Like you’d just tilted your hand a little too far
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled to yourself. Your hands slid off his shoulders and you wiped them off on your dress before wrapping them around yourself. That was when you retreated, leaving him standing there looking like more of a fool than he ever thought he had.
He stared after you for a few seconds, struggling to process what had just happened when it finally registered.
Soon he was following after you. How you knew to navigate the venue so quickly, he couldn’t be bothered to wonder. All he knew by the time he got to the lobby of the wedding hall was that something was wrong.
He spotted you rushing down the sidewalk as he stepped outside. In all his exasperation, all he could get out was, “Hey, what the fuck?”
The cool night air of the fall settled in and billowed around him like a curse. He wasn’t quite sure if the deep chill that ran down his spine was from the weather or the sight of you turning around, eyes already wet with tears that you were desperately trying to blink away.
Your voice came out hoarse as you shouted back, “You’re asking me what the fuck? No, Frankie, what the fuck is up with you? I kissed you…God…how many months ago? And you don’t say a fucking word. I keep talking about Benny’s wedding and you keep acting like none of it fucking happened.”
Frankie threw his hands up. “You were drunk. I don’t even remember how many fucking drinks you had.”
“I had a couple virgin cocktails,” you scoffed. The admittance wasn’t stubborn. But it did come with a tone of disdain, “I wasn’t drunk.”
“You wouldn’t–” he stopped himself. You wouldn’t have done any of that unless you were drunk.
“You acted like you were drunk.”
You shook your head. “I was having fun. I was with you and I was having fun, you dumbass.” Then you sighed, gaze darting towards the street nervously. “And I woke up the morning after and I thought that…I thought you would’ve at least said something. I thought you would’ve asked me how I felt. I thought you would’ve had the decency to at least check in. But you were just…you were completely fine.”
“I wasn’t fine…”
“And now you want to crack jokes about marrying me?”
Frankie wagged a finger in your direction, an almost childish defense. “You brought that shit up first.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Frankie, that doesn’t matter,” you muttered before raising your voice once more. “What matters is that I kissed you. I looked into your eyes and told you I fucking loved you and you said nothing.”
Hearing your voice say it again, even filled with such frustration, such anguish, he could help the way something fluttered in his chest. And even still, he shoved it down deeper than he ever had before.
“Because I wasn’t going to hurt you the way that Nick did.” He watched your gaze soften. “It would’ve killed me to hurt you like that.”
With the sounds of the city passing you both by, Frankie caught one of the worst sights possible. The tear that rolled down your cheek. And then the few more that followed, all shamelessly continuing their desolate stride down your neck. How you unclenched your jaw and unfolded all of the pain you’d kept since that summer into a few words. “You hurt me worse than Nick ever did.”
Your whole being compacted in on itself once more, recoiling from the vulnerable admission with a breathless conclusion. “Fuck you, Frankie. Fuck you.”
There it all was. And all he could think about was that night at Benny’s wedding. The night you told him you were glad Nick was gone. The night you smiled softly at him, thumb running over his bottom lip as you whispered.
I love you.
They were such fragile words. Words he hadn’t wanted to put any weight on, lest they shatter from beneath him and leave him falling face down in his own hopes. Because a small part of him had almost always hoped it was you. He never let himself truly believe the idea for long. But, God, he wanted to…could he still? He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back his own tears.
“I’m sorry.” His voice trembled in time with his hands. And he’d fully come to terms that it wasn’t just the cool air. He wasn’t a stranger to fearing for his life, with the work he’d once done, it was a given. But this wasn’t that. This was different. It was a fear of something a little more abstract. Because following this risk, there wouldn’t be oblivion. On the other side of his eyelids was a world where you either forgave him or you brushed him away. He certainly believed he deserved the latter with the way he’d been. But he’d never know unless he took the plunge.
When he opened his eyes again again he was grateful to find you still standing in front of him. He wouldn’t let this night steal his courage again. He repeated, voice firmer than before and charged with certainty, “I’m sorry.” Then finally replied, “I love you too. I love you.”
You gave him those hope filled eyes once more. He saw how it slowly morphed into joy; the kind that carried peace. You stepped closer, fingertips brushing against the material of his jacket as you reached for him.
Frankie closed the gap without any hesitation, his own hand moving to cradle your face as he moved in to kiss you. None of his recollections of the first time he’d done it could’ve ever lived up to the second one. There was no dread, no looming guilt, no fear. Only excitement and hope.
“If I could only pick one. I’d marry you. Any day…I’d marry you,” he mumbled against your lips.
You pulled back. And with his eyes still closed, he felt you smile as you answered, “Maybe I’ll ask you again next year. For now, let’s have this.”
“I can handle that,” he smiled then melted into you once more. And already it was something he knew he could easily get used to. Next time you asked, he’d be ready.
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cillianmesoftlyyy · 4 months
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Cut the Shit-Delusion, Sweetheart | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader
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summary: A young actress confesses her feelings to Cillian Murphy, this is how he responds.
warning: This is a much different story than I usually write but I think it's one that we all need in moments of pain and loneliness; to allow ourselves to feel sad and disappointment and hurt. We use people like Cillian to comfort ourselves and give ourselves reasons to be happy and sometimes we need moments to be sad. I was inspired by Fleabag (of course) and an AI edit I saw of Cillian where he turns someone down and its really sweet even though it breaks my heart lol. Age-diff, 1 noncon kiss, talk of infidelity.
word count: 1791+k
Blue Light- Mazzy Star 🎶
Don't interact if you're a Yvonne-hater, please and thanks <3
She hesitated before she knocked on the side-door of Cillian’s trailer. This desperate feeling overwhelmed her and she knew that she couldn’t sleep unless she went to him and confessed how she felt. She’d been plagued by dreams of them together, these beautiful, perfect dreams that poisoned her sleep like melatonin. She loved him and whether or not he felt the same way, she needed to tell him. She exhaled shakily as she dropped her arm back to her side. She was wearing her normal clothes, out of costume finally after a long day of shooting. She lost her sense of security behind the battlements of her gowns and numerous frilly things. She couldn’t hide her feelings behind her character anymore. 
The door opened and Cillian leaned against the doorframe in a casual greeting. 
“Don’t tell me we have a late night call time tonight, I’m fucking exhausted.” He smiled with his lopsided grin, his wide lips framing his teeth.
“No, but there is some business I need to attend to. May I come in?” She returned his smile and mirrored his posture. 
“Sure, come on.” He stepped aside and raised his arm in a welcoming gesture for her to pass through the door. She nodded in silent thanks and stood awkwardly in his trailer which was simple and quaint. Except for the unmade bed, the trailer was neat and orderly. 
“Oh fuck I’m sorry, were you asleep when I knocked?” She blushed and squeezed her palms together in an anxious gesture. 
“Nah, I was just reading the script for a movie my agent wants me to do next.” 
“Oh,” she nodded and turned her attention to the rack of costumes his character wore, “is it any good?” 
“It's definitely interesting but I don’t think it’s t’e right film for me.” He sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. Cillian was wearing a plain t-shirt and pajama pants, and seeing the innocent-intimate side of his life made her want so desperately to kiss him. She sat on the small couch he had in the trailer and tried to smile. 
“That’s too bad. Is it anything I’d like?” She joked and he nodded seriously. 
“Actually, yeh. I’ll send it over once I’m through. I’ve been re-reading it.” He moved his hands through the air as he spoke, so unlike his characters. She almost laughed and he smiled. 
“So, what can I do for you? You said you had some business to attend to. Sounds serious. Should I be worried?” He raised his eyebrow and crossed his legs, his hands cupped around the edge of the mattress. She tried to speak and immediately failed. Frustrated and embarrassed tears filled her eyes and she hid them by looking up at the ceiling. Cillian furrowed his brow, concerned. 
“What’s wrong?” He leaned forward on the bed and she shook her head, laughing lightly at herself. 
“I feel so incredibly stupid now for coming here.” She looked away and the bed squeaked softly as Cillian stood and joined her on the couch. She scooted over to give him some room and picked at the skin on her hands. 
“You can always come to me. Whatever it is.” He said softly and the air around them stilled with anticipation.
“Oh don’t say that, Cillian. You’re so kind…” she started to cry and tried to hide her face. 
“Fuck, I hate tears, please don’t cry! Did somet’ing happen?” He raised his hands helplessly, holding them over her without being sure what to do with them. She nodded her head slowly and hiccuped pitifully. 
“You’ll have to forgive me for my comforting abilities. I’ve never been good on t’at front and I have boys so I’m better at comforting members of the male species.” He shrugged and smiled, trying to lighten the mood. She laughed despite herself and wiped her eyes. She stood and paced the front of the trailer, knowing that it was now or never. 
“Cillian, this is such a horrible way to end your nice evening but I can’t continue on set without getting this off my chest. I hope you’ll forgive me.” She dared herself to look at him and he met her eyes, holding her eye-contact with mature resolve. 
“Of course.” He nodded softly, wrinkling his forehead, now more concerned with what his costar was going to tell him. He was naive. He assumed she was going to tell him that she couldn’t work with him anymore or that something had happened in their scenes that had made her uncomfortable. He shifted uneasily on the couch, watching her. She tried to speak a few times but exhaled and shook her head. Cillian stood and met her where she was standing. He was a good few feet taller than her and so much older, but having him there beside her made the feelings she wanted to tell him about so much stronger. 
“Cillian, this isn’t easy to say,” she looked down at her hands and then up into his clear blue eyes. “I have feelings for you, more than our professional relationship can offer. Working with you on set all this time has… it’s made my feelings so much harder to ignore, Cillian.” 
He froze and remembered to breathe, drawing in a startled breath. 
“T’at wasn’t what I was expecting you to say.” He ran his hand over his mouth and looked away, his blue eyes moving through his hidden thoughts. 
“I know you probably don’t feel the same but I just… it’s driving me mad, Cillian. It’s becoming a form of method acting that isn’t fun anymore.” She tried to laugh lightly but grimaced and put the backs of her hands against her burning cheeks. 
“Yeh…” he nodded and sighed, his eyes wide. 
She groaned and returned to the couch, sitting on her sweaty hands. 
“I can go, Cillian. I can leave if you don’t want me here anymore.” She whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. 
“No, no. We need to talk t’rough this.” He said calmly, slowly, and covered his mouth with his freckled hand. 
“Oh God, I’ve gone and fucked everything up. I’m sorry Cillian. I knew you didn’t feel the same but I still let myself go to you.” She leaned back against the couch and pulled her hands through her hair and pulled the skin back from her face. 
“Stop it. Don’t say t'at.” Cillian snapped not unkindly but sternly and took a deep breath. “See, we need to talk about t’is so we can still work together, eh?” He ran a hand through his own dark hair and looked at her for a moment, thinking. 
“How, Cillian? If you knew how I felt about you… it’s maddening. I can’t sleep, Cillian. You’re all I think about as pathetic as it sounds,” she took a deep breath, “I love you. And now you’ll hate me.” She continued and moved her hands, clasped together between her knees.
Cillian sighed and moved abruptly to her side on the couch, opening his body towards her. 
“Don’t talk for me, eh? Look, I understand. It’s hard to not develop certain er… feelings when we do what we do, right?” He cocked his head to the side and licked his lips awkwardly.
“I know I’m childish, Cillian, but I can’t help it. I’m suffering without you… without more from you, more than we can do on set.” She whined and rubbed her shoulders as if she were cold. “Can you indulge me? Do you feel even a little of what I do?” She whispered, looking deeply into his eyes. He said nothing for a second before running his hands up and down his face, exhaling loudly into his palms. He put his hands down and leaned towards her on his elbows. 
“I’m married, sweetheart. Yvonne is my wife and I love her.” He whispered softly, his hands splitting the space between them. 
“But I love you.” She whispered back and leaned in to kiss him. He allowed her to kiss him once and when she pulled away, dejected, he took her chin gently. 
“Cut the shit-delusion, sweetheart. You’re young… far too young for me. You may t’ink you love me but you don’t know me.”
He took her face in his hands and smiled sadly as tears rolled down her pink cheeks. 
“I know you’ll find someone who truly loves you. You’re a beautiful young woman who has her entire life ahead of her. I’m flattered t'at you feel t’at way about me but we can’t, I can’t. If the roles were reversed and we were married and Yvonne approached me, wouldn’t you want me to stop t’ings before t’ey went too far?” He supported her head as she dropped it slightly to the side. She felt empty of words and so he continued. 
“You’re a darling girl but you know we can’t do t’is.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb and wiped away her tears. “You need a boy your age who knows how to love you in the way you need to be loved. I only know how to love my wife… and she’s the only one who knows how to love me.”
“I could have loved you in whatever way you needed.” She whispered weakly and he smiled softly. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothed her like a father, “but you wouldn’t have been happy wit' me. You’re out of my league and you would have gotten bored of me.” He joked lightly and she allowed a pained smile to form on her lips. 
“I’m sorry, Cillian. I feel like such a fool.” She closed her eyes and he hugged her close. 
“Nah, you’re still a kid. You’re many t’ings but foolish is not one of ’em.” He squeezed her tightly and kissed her head affectionately. “You’re a good kid and a great actress. We’ll be fine, the two of us, eh?” He pulled away and she wiped her eyes dry. 
“I’ll try.”  
She kissed him briefly on the cheek and rose to her feet. She walked to the door and looked back at the actor with a small smile, the door open in front of her.
“Goodnight, Cillian.” 
He nodded from the couch. 
“Y/N?” 
“Yes?”
Cillian stood and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears. 
“You weren’t the only one.... That is, you weren’t the only one who felt…” he broke off and cleared his throat, “but it's better t’is way, yeh?.... It’ll pass, love. It’ll pass.” 
He met her eyes one last time and she nodded sadly yet full of a completeness found in their mutual understanding. 
“Goodnight, Cillian.” She said again and closed the door behind her and left the trailer, walking with her back to the wind. Cillian collapsed back on the couch and looked at his watch, wondering if Yvonne was awake. She always answered his calls. She put up with everything, God bless her. She was everything and more than he deserved. He rang her up and she answered after the second ring, her voice ringed with sleepiness.
"Heya, love." He whispered with a smile, "No, everyt'ing's fine. I just wanted to call you. I miss you, girl. Yeah, yeah. Put them on."
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star-xxx1 · 8 months
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Sub Wanda headcannons- SFW/NSFW ☆
Wanda maxioff × Fem!reader.
Please send through headcannons. I love doing them<3 -NSFW below cut!
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SFW:
☆Sub-Wanda, who is so clingy that she will burst crying if you have to leave her for business trips. She insists that you call her and text her every day. if you don't she will get very upset and throw a fit when you get home.
☆Sub-Wanda who needs to be next to you at all times but will give you space if you ask her kindly. She loves hugs and kisses. You shower her in them.
☆Sub-Wanda loves doing anything with you she only cares that she is with you. but her favorites are movie nights, cooking, and shopping.
☆Sub-Wanda loves your hands and loves holding your hand. sometimes she will rest her head on your thighs and play with them, tracing your skin, pressing soft kisses on them.
☆Sub-Wanda loves her nicknames and you love yours. she has given you a lot but she mostly uses 'my love' and you call her 'bunny'
☆Sub-Wanda who loves that you buy her a lot of gifts and she does the same for you. you both are very romantic and big on attention even in public. you are her world and her favourite person.
☆Sub-Wanda is very possessive and gets jealous easily. You always make sure that she knows that she is your favourite person. her soul is so sensitive.
☆Sub-Wanda who wears the most cute clothes. she loves her dresses. She is the cutest, bubbliest girl you know.
NSFW:
☆Sub-Wanda who loves make-out sessions. They are always hot and steamy. Teeth clash together, lips swell, and eventually, clothes come off. They are truly fueled by love, compassion, and need.
☆Sub-Wanda, who makes they cutest but whorish noises. You would do anything to pull them out of her. Sometimes, you would sit with her in between your legs, toying with her clit pushing your digits in and out of her. Playing with her for hours just to hear moans and whimpers. She is so vocal and loud during sex but you love it.
☆Sub-Wanda favourite way to wake up is with your strap-on buried deep inside her deep tight hole or your mouth on her pussy, bringing her to the most earth shattering orgasm.
☆Sub-Wanda sometimes gets so horny you'll wake up with her grinding on your thigh, begging you to fuck her.
☆Sub-Wanda is a mess when you tie up her and edge her for hours or days as punishment she be'll a crying and shaking mess begging you to let her cum, profusely apologising. Sometimes you'll fuck her till she's dumb, pushing her into a heavy sub space. She hates spanking but endures it since she knows it her punishment.
☆Sub-Wanda loves praising and degrading, praising if you're having soft sex, degrading whilst having rough. At times, she wants to be treated like the most fragile thing on earth, and at other times, the most filthiest slut know to man kind.
☆Sub-Wanda loves marking it can be spanking, love bites, and bruises. She loves them all. She will happily walk around, exposing them. She loves leaving love bites on your neck, showing everyone around that your taken.
☆Sub-Wanda physically can not top. She doesn't have it in her. She loves being dominated by you, and she sees you as the best domme in the world.
☆Sub-Wanda is called bunny by you because you love seeing her bounce up and down on your strap.
☆Sub-Wanda really loves aftercare she thinks you're very skilled at it. Knowing what she needs immediately after you both finish. After Punishments, you tell her that she is forgiven and praise her. She loves it when you hold her in a shower. Supporting her weak legs. She really enjoys all the cuddles after and watching movies in bed if you're both not sleeping.
<33333
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