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lolokouhm · 7 months

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„You haven’t eaten, have you?”

No, Suguru hasn’t eaten.

It’s not like you’re surprised. He’s lost weight - nah, he’s been losing weight steadily for the past few weeks. People say that it’s hard to notice when you see someone regularly, but it’s not hard at all - especially in his case. You’re not sure what’s changed exactly. Suguru still looks relatively healthy, not underweight, but the dark circles under his eyes speak volumes.

You sigh and walk into his apartment. It’s surprisingly neat, to the point it’s a bit scary - so clean it gives an impression as if no living person could function there. And maybe that’s exactly how it is. Maybe that tall, handsome guy in black sweats that greets you is not a person anymore, but a ghost. It’s a question you constantly ask yourself in your head, but never dare to answer. Your heart would break.

„I wasn’t hungry.” A smile appears on his pale face and you sigh again.

You’ve been friends with Suguru since high school, but after your last year you went your separate ways, just to meet again years later - just a few months ago. He didn’t change much, at least not visually - except for his arms. He might have gone a little bit crazy on ink there, and that’s exactly what got the two of you talking again. Tattoos. You’ve never expected Suguru Geto, that sophisticated, awfully smart Geto would cover both of his arms in the most insane pieces of art you’ve ever seen. You’ve had your own share of ink under your skin, but your collection was quite messy and not that cohesive. You liked trying new styles, creating your own map of memories from different places and different artists, while his tattoos were definitely an artwork made by one man. You had a million questions, he was happy to answer - that’s how you ended up in his apartment for the first time. Soon you realised you had a million subjects to go through - politics, art, even God. It was easy, talking with him. It was fun.

And then it began - the movie nights, when the two of you were going through different eras of cinema alphabetically, also bringing snacks that would start on the same letter as the movie you were watching. A stupid idea that you shamelessly stole from „The Barbie Diaries” - the first movie you’ve watched together and the first one that left Suguru completely traumatised.

„Luckily for you, today we’re watching The Notebook, so we’ll be having noodles. What kind of noodles do you want, sir?”, you ask, handing him an invisible microphone.

Suguru chuckles.

„Spicy.”

A few clicks later the food is already on its way and the two of you get comfortable on his huge couch. The projector starts warming up and you look around - it’s completely dark inside and if it weren’t for the fact you know Suguru well, you’d think he made the apartament that way so the two of you could watch the movie comfortably. Your gaze goes back to him - his body hunching over the laptop, fighting with Netflix again.

The projector turns on and the movie starts, as the two of you hide yourselves under the blankets. Unfortunately, you can’t focus. You’re worried.

You’ve had some conversations about his depressive episodes before, so technically you know what he’s going trough, but honestly - you don’t. He doesn’t really talk about it, but if you could get into his head you’d understand how much he values your bare presence next to him. If you could get into his head, you’d know way more, but luckily for Suguru, you can’t. He wouldn’t like that.

In normal circumstances, at least. Because tonight, he is hungry, he is frustrated, and he needs warmth.

And you are anything but cold.

So when he catches your eyes on him, he bets. If you turn away, he’ll let you go. If you give in, he’ll make you stay.

Three seconds. That’s how much time it takes for Suguru to get closer to you and kiss you.

It’s short, soft and sensual, but it makes his head go fuzzy, and when he pulls back he just hopes you won’t run away. Don’t run away. Don’t.

You’re not running.

You’re sitting, legs crossed, just as you were seconds before. Your face is completely red now as Suguru’s eyes scan you carefully, desperate to see the future. Will you go? Will you slap him?

„Why did you do that?” Your own voice doesn’t even sound like your voice. „The Notebook” in the background is now completely forgotten, the flickering lights on the screen keep on changing and throwing different shades on Suguru’s pale face. You didn’t expect that. Not that you didn’t want to or think about it, it’s just…

„I’m hungry” he whispers, and the way his voice sounds gets shivers sprinting down your spine. „And the food’s not here yet.”

„Yeah. It’s not.” He still keeps his hands on your cheeks, right thumb gently brushing your skin, touch light as a feather.

„What are we going to do about it?”, he murmurs, words are barely audible. He’s waiting. There’s another unspoken question hanging between the two of you, and you’re the one who needs to answer.

And that’s exactly what you do.

Both of your hands are suddenly gripping onto his hoodie as you lean into him, lips crashing yet again, just with much bigger force this time. Suguru’s breath shakes as he finally comprehends that he won the bet and a smile crawls onto his face. You’re kissing him. His ray of sunshine. Well, maybe not his yet, but when he’s done with you, that’s exactly how you will be.

And that’s exactly what he does.

His lips travel down your jaw, stop for a second under your ear and then go straight to your neck as your hands let go of his hoodie and find their way to his hair, gripping desperately on the black strands loosely caught in a bun. He groans at the feeling as he bites the skin of your exposed collarbone, his fingers playing with the hem of your blouse, eager to feel more and more of you. Suguru looks up and tries his best not to moan at the sight of your face, your lipstick completely devoured.

„Can I?”, a hoarse whisper leaves his throat, but it’s not even a question. He’s begging you.

And you let him.

He takes his own hoodie of as you take off yours - and you can see them again. The artwork on his arms. You lean your body against the pillows on the right side of the couch and Suguru gulps. He’s been imagining that for a while now, but the reality, for the first time in fucking forever, was so, so much better. His lips go back to sucking and licking your skin and by the moment he reaches your breasts you whine. His hot tongue plays with your nipples, making you impossibly wet, and the bare sight of him shirtless in those awfully beautiful sweats is not helping at all. A part of you is relieved - his muscles are still there, tensing a bit with every movement. And when he pulls away for a moment, you notice it.

„You’ve got a new one.” A koi fish, on his ribs, drawn as usual in a traditional style, this time with a bit of colour. Red. Your favourite. Your hand is shaking, but you can’t help yourself. You trace the shape of the tattoo, his hot skin under your fingertips feeling like fire. You are in awe - even more when you look at him again, breathing heavily. A god. He looks like a god.

And then he proceeds to make you feel like you’re nowhere but in heaven.

He’s not hungry anymore - by the time you’re completely naked he’s starving. His name escapes your lips when his grip on your thighs gets tighter, and then it hits you - his tongue finally making contact with the place you needed him in so desperately. Your hands find his hair again, pulling it relentlessly when he inserts two slender fingers inside of you, at the same time licking your clit. Suguru’s ravenous. You could be his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner, his dessert - everything. He could eat you out all the time, no breaks, no thoughts, no objections. He tries to control his own hips that have been grinding into the couch for a while now, but the feeling of you on his tongue isn’t making it any easier.

„Suguru…” your voice comes back to you, a familiar feeling slowly building up inside of your stomach. „I’m so close.”

You really are, and your clouded mind is making the sensation almost unbearable. Suguru groans yet again, happier then ever, and then you hear it.

„Come for me, baby.”

So soft. So simple. Not a demand, by no means. An invitation - to fall apart on his tongue.

You take it.

His name leaves your lips as your orgasm blinds you, back arching as you pull his hair so hard he groans. Suguru doesn’t stop right away - he makes you ride it out, drinking you like holy water. You shake and quiver and he thinks that maybe that’s exactly what it is. Holy water on his tongue.

And so you lay, completely fucked out under his perfect body, and when he goes up to look at you he’s almost sure he’s going to come right there, in his pants. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect.

„Fuck.” It falls from his lips as he’s taking these damn pants off and you gasp. „I just… Fuck.” He runs his hands down his face, your arousal glistening all over him. It’s like he shines. You might be going insane. Fucking Geto Suguru, hovering over you, his cock impossibly hard, looking for words. „Can I…”

Before he finishes, you lean into him and bring him down, pulling his neck closer to you and diving into the kiss. He pants and you get scared - it’s not reality. It can’t be. Suguru leaning into your touch, Suguru groaning into your ear, Suguru, Suguru, Suguru. His name carved all over your body, all over your mind.

He goes in slowly, trying his best not to come right away, but he’s more than determined to make you cum again, this time on his cock. He starts thrusting, diving as deep as possible and then reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. It feels so good. Too good to be true. He doesn’t fuck you - it’s way more than that. His lips move up and down your neck, leaving desperate kisses between pants and grunts. Suguru is in pain and you’re the cure. Suguru is the moon and you’re the sun. Suguru is the believer.

And you’re the god.

You asked him about it one night.

„Do you believe in God, Suguru?”

He said he didn’t, but he changed his mind. He does.

His god is right there, under his fingers.

You come again, moaning right into his lips when you kiss, and the way you clench around him sends him to the edge. He hides his head into the crook of your neck and twitches inside of you, warm cum covering your insides as he pants, hips desperately bucking into you. You’re barely conscious, but you wrap your arms around him and hold him as he’s trying to catch his breath. His heartbeat runs through you and it kinda feels like you’re one person. Maybe that’s exactly what you have become.

One.

„Are you still hungry?”

You can feel him laughing into your skin. Suguru moves his head up and readjusts it, so he can see the bite marks on your neck a little better. Like a tattoo. Another one to your collection.

„Starving.”

masterlist ❤️

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lsuyia · 3 months

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❝𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐃❞

- megumi takes care of you when you get sick

mostly fluff

A/N- omg thank you all smmmm!!! on the love for my gojo fic! I literally pulled it out my ass frfr but im glad u all like it! (pls request fic ideas)

megumi x fem! reader

ᥫ᭡

It was the middle of January, and it had been constantly cold for days now— Unfortunately, that didn’t stop you from not wearing anything but shorts and a tank-top when it wasn’t as cold as it usually was on certain days.

“Your going to get sick.” Megumi said yelling at you while he scrolled on his phone boredly taking quick glances at you to make sure you didnt get hurt.

“No I wont! I have a strong immune system.” You said yelling back as you ran outside barefoot, with shorts and a tanktop on as you played in the now making snow angels and giggling.

Megumi sighed, knowing that his words wouldnt reach you as he continued to watch you play in the snow, shaking his head in disappointment.

—

“I told you.” He said putting a cold cloth on your head as he sat on the edge of the bed towards you looking at you in his normal nonchalant facial expression—and you sniffled and sneezed in response. Your eyes were l puffy, your nose was red from blowing it so much,— at this point everything about you looked sick.

“Shut up..” You said weakly as you let out a concerning hard cough, you didn’t realize snow could make you this sick.

Megumi would always take care of you since you got sick more often than him, and everytime he really wished that you would listen to him more often rather than jumping into things.

He took a spoonfull of the chicken noddle soup he made for you that he put on your nightstand as he careful directed the spoon towards your mouth.

You took the spoonfuls closing your eyes in how good it tasted when he made chicken noodle soup. Megumi let out a soft smile at your antics as he continued to feed you.

—

The day of you being sick was being wished away as you and megumi both slept the day away in your shared bedroom just cuddling each-other while a random show played on the television.

“thank you gumi, for taking care of me.” You said twirling his locks of hair in your finger tips before caressing his cheeks and giving him a soft smile.

His face immediately turned red starting at your big doe eyes and your little smile that you knew he loved. He turned his head away out of embarrassment still red. “Y-yeah its whatever..” He said with a sigh before turning back to look at you with his usual nonchalant face.

You giggled at his antics before leaning in and giving him a deep kiss on his lips while you cupped his face. He melted into the kiss before pulling away looking at you annoyed.

“You know your going to get me sick right?” He said as his eye twitched and annoyance was showing on his face which you found pretty comical.

“yeah i know” You chuckled before pulling him into multiple kisses despite his protest and hands trying to push you away.

—

“I hate you.” Megumi said annoyed as he laid in bed sniffling and let out a concerning cough.

You placed the cold towel on his forehead before feeding him some chicken noodle soup as you sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

“Love you too.”

#fanfic #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu megumi #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi smut #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #megumi imagine #megumi #fushiguro x reader #megumi fanfic

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cringe-but-proud · 4 months

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Hi! You must’ve JUST posted while I was searching a tag! WELCOME to the crowd of other amateur writers who have no idea what we’re doing!

I have a request for a short fanfic/drabble! Wonka 2023 where fem!reader is a storyteller who worked in the laundry room when Willy arrives. Reader is closer with Noodle and usually tells her bedtime stories before going to sleep, and Willy comes to admire the vast imagination in the stories while falling in love, to Noodle’s joy. I haven’t had the motivation to write in a long time, so I hope you’d be up to trying to get the story out of my head!

Hi! Thanks sm for the request. Hope I could do your idea justice lol

Willy Wonka x Storyteller!Fem!Reader (Wonka 2023)

Warnings: None, I think. Sort of just a cute fluffy one.

Three years ago, you made the worst and most unforgivable mistake of your life: Taking a shower at Ms. Scrubbit's hotel.

To make a fairly short story shorter, you neglected to read the small print, leading to you being in a massive debt to her. So, for the next 5 years of your life, you'd be forced to work in a dirty, old laundry room.

You were absolutely miserable at first. Your days dragged by and your nights were mostly spent curled up in your bed crying. But, once you accepted your situation, you found a way to make the days go by faster: Making up stories in your head while you worked.

You'd always had quite the creative mind; so, weaving tales of magic and wonder was a fun way to spend your time.

Plus, Noodle always liked to hear your stories before she went to sleep.

But, recently you'd earned another fan of your stories.

Willy was the newest person who was unfortunate enough to end up down here. And lately he'd started sitting at the desk in Noodle's room every night, tinkering with new chocolate recipes or practicing his reading and writing skills, while you told Noodle a bedtime story.

But, according to noodle, he was actually in there just to listen to you. Supposedly, the moment you left, he'd turn to noodle and the two would discuss whatever story you'd told that night.

If that was true, you were honored.

One night, Noodle and Willy snuck out of the laundry room to do who knows what. And a couple hours later, Noodle returned without Willy. She told you all about the adventure they had which apparently included milking a giraffe, flamingos, and a run in with the police.

Her recount of the night was entertaining, and you were glad she's had fun. But, you couldn't help but feel a bit worried for Willy. "So, what's gonna happen to Willy?" You asked. "Is he getting arrested?"

Noodle shook her head. "He told me he'd talk his way out of it." She said as she got into bed. She tilted her head at you. "Do you like him?"

"What?" You flushed.

"Like, do you wanna be his girlfriend?"

"I-" You were about to say no, but that wasn't entirely true. You admired him. He had a brilliant mind, and he was unbelievably handsome. "Okay, how about I tell you a story?"

"So, you do wanna be his girlfriend."

"Story is beginning now."

Later in the night, you were in your own room, about to settle in for bed when someone knocked at your door.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, getting up to open the door for whoever it was.

"Hey." Willy greeted. "Sorry if I woke you up." His hair looked wet which was strange, but you were more concerned with why he was at your door.

"Don't worry, I wasn't asleep. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I was just wondering if... Uh, did you tell Noodle a story while I was gone?"

You nodded. "I did."

He seemed a little disheartened, which made you feel bad. "I'm sure noodle can retell you the story tomorrow." You offered, trying to lighten his mood.

"She could. But, the way you... I mean... You have a wonderful, imaginative, beautiful mind. And the way you tell your stories, it's amazing! You could read me a grocery list, and I'd be on the edge of my seat." He gushed.

You couldn't help but blush. "You think all of that?"

"Yes! How could I not?" He gave you an affectionate smile.

You returned him smile. "I mean... I could tell the story to you right now, if you want."

Willy thought about it. "It's alright. I think I can go without a story for one night." He said reassuringly.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the offer, though."

He began to step away from your door, saying a quick goodnight before he began walking toward his room.

"Wait, Willy." He stopped and turned to you.

You walked up to him and kissed his cheek. Willy blushed. "What was that for?"

You shrugged. "To make up for the story you missed out on?" You offered.

Willy smiled and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

"What was that for?" You asked this time.

"Just cause I like you." He replied as he leaned in to kiss you again.

#Wonka 2023 x reader #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #x reader #fanfiction

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husbandhoshi · 2 months

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[9:17 PM]

"no." you close your eyes and force yourself to take a deep breath. "nononono."

you thought the worst thing that could happen already happened—you discovered your favorite noodle place wasn't open today, and you were forced to make your peace with that. (albeit with tears. and utter devastation.)

turns out that didn't even scratch the surface of terrible, no good things that could happen today, because now, your roommate junhui is at the front door and he's the absolute last person you want to see today.

on any other day, this would be fine. good, even.

when you first moved in with junhui, you never expected to become good friends. really, you were just happy to have a place to sleep—at first, he was just some guy, and the fact that he was a medical student was a cool bonus.

that is, until you sprained your ankle going down the stairs four months ago. he wrapped it on the futon in the living room and then proceeded to keep you company for the rest of the night while you wrestled with an ice pack. it was then when you learned what it felt like to fall in love, hopelessly and instantly.

you hear him jiggle the door handle again. he likely forgot his keys, and you would let him in until you consider the fact that you look no better than a mole rat at the moment. you woke up this morning with a fever and a wicked headache, and neither of those have gotten better since then. you don't even think you've left your room yet today.

"please don't tell me you're taking a nap," he whines, muffled by the door. "i got pizza."

fuck.

you peel yourself out of bed and catch a glimpse of yourself in your vanity. not good. if you had a choice, you would want to greet him in something other than your two-day pajamas. unfortunately, your only option at the moment is slapping on some lip gloss and calling it a day, and it's now that you begin contemplating the absolute death of a possibility of having a shot with junhui. hot guys like him don't date mole rats, even if they're wearing lip gloss.

finally you reach the front door, resigned to your fate. maybe you really should get back on the apps, as much as you hate to say it.

"sorry," you say as you let junhui in. "i was in bed."

he's in his scrubs, stethoscope round his neck. he must have had a long day today, but he still smiles at you with as much warmth as always. it makes your heart actually hurt, as if you aren't feeling sick enough.

"i figured— 's ok. it's pizza time," he chants. "you eat yet?"

you hide your face as you grab him a plate. the answer is no (soup or bust was your earlier conclusion), but you don't want to risk getting him sick, especially after he spent a whole day in the hospital. it's then when you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning you around.

"hey, you good?" you're met with junhui's eyes, now squinty as he looks you over. "are you sick, or are you just happy to see me? 'cause you look warm."

"um." you swallow hard, feeling bare. if you knew you would be this close to his face, you would have at least run a comb through your hair. "i might have a teeny, tiny little temperature. maybe."

that's all you need to say. he immediately brings the back of his hand to your forehead, and if you weren't already doomed, you sure are now.

"maybe a little more than tiny, huh?" he chuckles. "let me get you some meds."

you like how he doesn't scold you for not telling him sooner or guilt you for causing trouble after work. you watch him rifle through the cabinets, muttering to himself about this and that, and you start to feel a little silly about worrying what he thought of you.

"take these," he says, putting a couple of pills in your palm before opening a water bottle for you. "and follow my finger."

you watch him draw a square with his pointer finger before he brings it in between your eyes so they cross.

"i-is everything ok?" you squeak.

"yeah," he laughs. "it's just cute when you do that."

cute?! you thank god he wasn't using that stethoscope on you, because he definitely would have diagnosed you with something right on the spot. instead, you take your meds, grateful that he didn't ask whether or not you had more than a tablespoon of water today (spoiler alert—you didn't).

you're still mentally scrambling to decode what he could possibly be talking about when he bends down to meet your eyes.

"you're lucky. it's not terminal." you try to fight the corners of your mouth from turning up at his incredibly lame joke, but it doesn't work—instead, you smile, and you watch him smile back. "but you should get some rest. i need you alive this weekend."

"w-why?"

you feel your stomach drop to your knees, even though that's anatomically impossible, and you're not sure what a heart attack really is, but you think you just had one.

he needs to stop looking at you like that, or you will do some damage.

"you wanted to go to that new restaurant down the street, right? i have the day off."

"you mean, like a d—"

"like a date." he hands you your water bottle. "i'm asking you on a date. now get some rest, okay?"

you feel like a walking skeleton as he turns you around to face the door to your room. you want to fall to your knees and jump for joy all at once, but you plan to save that for when your bedroom door is shut tight behind you. if the bedhead wasn't enough, acting like even more of a fool in front of him would definitely scare him off.

"i like the lip gloss, by the way," he hollers after you. "nice touch."

you turn back to glare at him, because now he's just bullying you. you wonder how long he knew about your little problem, which would be humiliating if you weren't so down bad.

"what? you love me."

but he's right. you do, you really do. and you guess he just might love you back too.

#this is actually. like im not a jun girl but this would send me straight to the morgue #anyway june i hope ur feeling better <3 #mine #junhui #junhui x reader #junhui x you #junhui fluff #junhui imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #rq

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heeluvrsworld · 3 months

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envy - han jisung

Summary - as stray kids' makeup artist, you are bound to be around them a lot. Unfortunately, this can lead to more than just business relationships. But what happens when it leads to even more than that?

not sure if the word count but not very long!

Warnings - afab reader x jisung. subby needy jisung, oral (m receiving), cum eating, scratching (kinda) unprotected sex (be careful lol), some grinding and begging, just the whole works LOL.

————————————————————————————————————————

Brushes? Check. Wipes? Check. Lipbalms? Check. It is important to make sure you have everything you need before walking into the building, if you’re off schedule then it can throw the entire group off schedule, and worst case scenario it can make the whole show time to be delayed by a few minutes. You quickly walked down the hall, shoes clicking softly on the tile floor.

Second door to the left… and there it was, the dressing room. It's easily recognizable with the security standing out front, you show him your card identification, marked with the official stamp. The security guard moves to the side and lets you in, but even from outside the room, you can hear the boys laughing and yelling at each other.

As soon as you are in the room you how, greeting the boys, “Hey everyone, who wants to go first?” you lay your kit on the vanity, unzipping it and folding it out to display all your products.

“Y/n! You're always right on time, most of us just got our hair finished.” Chan was eager to sit down first, always wanting to be the first one done getting ready so he could prepare for the stage.

You smiled and looked around the room, some of the boys eating some snacks, and some adjusting their hair and clothes. As you looked around you locked eyes with Jisung for a moment. While picking favorites of a group you work with is looked down upon, it was hard to deny you had a soft spot for Jisung. His features were delicate and easy to do makeup on, he always sat so still while in your chair, and he always made you laugh. With a small wave, you greet him. He's sitting on the couch next to Seungmin eating a cup of noodles, halfway through the bite he notices you and waves back with a smile behind his chubby cheeks.

Chan's makeup was always fast. He had good skin and didn't need much coverage, and eyeshadow for him was usually relatively the same so you have it down by now, getting it done in just a few minutes. He stretches before standing, looking in the mirror. “Looks good as always, thank you Y/n,” he made his way out of the chair allowing the next member to come and take his place and he sat down on his phone. You did a few of the other members, now all that was remaining was Jisung and Hyunjin.

Whenever you were working you always felt eyes on you, and it was obvious that it was Jisung. He was always very interested in whatever you were doing, asking questions with wide, curious eyes. “How long have you been doing this?” “What's that brush for?” “Do you do your own makeup?” he would swarm you with so many things to answer at once, sometimes sitting on the vanity you had your cosmetics on. Although it was a little distracting, it never bothered you. You loved having his company and found yourself missing it when he wasn't by your side bombarding you with little comments.

“Ji, are you ready?” you called him as you were wiping some of your tools down with sanitizing wipes.

“Yes!” he was enthusiastic as he sat down at your chair, leaning forward on his elbows as he watched you cleaning your station up.

You took notice of his outfit and hair, thinking about what to do for his eyeshadow and lips. The company liked Jisung with all the different looks, and you loved to do it. You watched him as he was watching you, thinking about how you would do his makeup. He wore a sleeveless button-up top, a dark green color, tucked in and sealed with a belt. God, his waist was tiny. His hair was wavey, the sides shaved. It was messy but also put together, hanging slightly in his face.

“What are we doing today?” he asked, not taking his eyes off you as you cleaned the last brush and set it down.

“Hmm,” you turned to him looking him up and down. You swear every comeback he looked better and better. You pushed the thought away and brought your hand up to his face, grabbing a clip and clipping both sides back, “I think you could go out on stage just like this,” you teased. He looked silly with his hair now, but still cute. You loved his bare face, sometimes it pained you to cover it up, it felt like tainting a perfect piece of art.

He scoffed, “Liar, I would get kicked out of the group.”

“You know I'm just messing with you, but you do still look handsome just like this.” you patted his head and grabbed a lightweight foundation, “I think just light makeup today, it'll suit your look.”

He was glad you already had the foundation on his cheeks so you couldn't see the blush rising on them, “Brown?” he confirmed. “Brown, darken up your eyebrows a bit, some warmth to your face,” you nodded, patting the cushion on his face softly. He maintained eye contact as you did so. It was now your turn to turn and hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. There's such a love-hate relationship with how he looked at you, his big doe eyes staring at you, wide and curious, listening so intently to anything you said. It made your knees weak.

“Close your eyes for me,” you gently instructed, and he complied immediately. His long eyelashes rested on the tops of his cheeks, eyes twitching slightly. You put your hand on the side of his face, letting him know you are going to start the eyeshadow so you don't startle him. His face felt warm, his skin so smooth. It didn't take long to finish the eyeshadow, “okay, we are finished with that,” you set the brush down, “you can open.”

“It looks good,” he faced the mirror, admiring the work, “you're so good at your job, y/n.” he said a bit quieter.

Jisung's compliments always make your heart flutter a bit, “thank you, Ji. We just have to do lips and you're all finished up!” with that you reached and grabbed a color suiting him and a small brush to apply it with. “This color should work, you think?” you showed him, always liking to hear his thoughts.

He nodded, “Yeah, it looks good.” you smiled and walked over, opening the tube and dabbing some product on the brush. You kneeled down a little, grabbing his jaw softly and holding onto it so you had a perfect angle to angle to apply the lipstick. Once again, he looked up at you with big wide eyes, studying your face, his lips parted.

“Ji.. Can you stop looking at me like that? It's distracting…” you asked in a low voice so the other members didn't hear.

He swallowed harshly, then looked down, letting his face rest deeper into your hand, “Sorry, I can't stop looking at you.” he said simply.

You let your thumb caress his cheek before removing it, “All done, you can go sit down now. Hyunjin, are you ready?”

————————————————————————————————————————

“Eyeliner today?” Hyunjin questioned as he settled into the chair.

“Of course, always. I think some grey eyeshadow will be good too with this outfit,” you explained your plan as he leaned back in your chair, legs spread.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jisung. He was watching you while you worked on Hyunjin. His hair was a bit shorter this comeback, and clips weren't doing a good job of keeping his hair out of his face, which meant you just had to just hold his hair back with your hand. You lightly filled in his eyebrows, but they were already bold so you didn't have to do much work. After finishing that you brushed his hair back down, fixing it back in place.

“Good job, Y/n,” Jisung spoke up, walking over to sit by your station and eyeing Hyunjin. “I like the eyeliner,” he sounded almost sarcastic, leaning against the piece of furniture behind you.

“We’re so lucky to have a good makeup artist, our last one was starting to get on every ones nerves. It was Changbin who talked to the manager and requested a new one since she was so rude.” Hyunjin explained, smiling as he did so.

It made you feel proud that you were able to work with them, your pride swelling a bit, “I know, I'm just the best,” you snorted a little bit as you laughed. Jisung was silent, not laughing or smiling, just watching as you prepared another lipstick and brush. You repeated the same process of dabbing it on the brush and kneeling down to apply it on Hyunjins lips. It wasn't that Jisung was jealous… at least he wouldn't admit that to himself. He just liked observing. Maybe.

“Good to go! You guys can head to retouch your hair now,” you set the brush down and reminded them to go back to the stylist. It was inevitable that their hair got a little messy from the makeup process, but it was an easy fix for the hairstylist.

“Let's head out, we have about two hours until we have to go on stage. The hairdresser is down the hall. Thanks again, Y/n, you work wonders!” Chan and the others all lined up and started piling out of the room, all giving their thanks. “Of course guys, have fun!” you turned back to your make-up kit and began the same sanitization process and organizing things back to their original spots.

It wasn't until you accidentally brushed against Jisung that you realized he was still in the room. You smiled at him but continued what you were doing, “Hey Ji, shouldn't you be heading out? They might be waiting.”

He shook his head, “It's okay, my hair looks fine, they wanted it messy anyways.” you didn't argue, happy with his company. You never really were alone with him, it honestly made you kind of nervous, but you weren't complaining.

“No worries. Did you need something? A touch-up?” you put the last brush away and turned to him, sitting on the chair you and them sitting in previously. “I put everything away but if you'd like to change something I'd be happy to help!”

He smiled at you, a soft smile that made his eyes squint and his cheeks grow, “I love it, you don't have to change anything.” he moved towards you, looking down. “Did you like doing Hyunjin's makeup?” he asked.

It caught you a bit off-guard, you weren't sure what he was getting at, “yeah, I love my job, Ji, you all are fun to work with. Why?”

He sighed, “That's not really what I'm asking,” he paused. You looked up to him, he looked gorgeous. A piece of his hair fell between his eyebrows which were furrowed softly. His skin was more tan than normal, a deep honey color, you found yourself looking him up and down, “What are you asking then?” you nervously fiddled with your fingers.

“Am I your favorite?” He asked without looking away for a second. Your mouth fell open for a second but you quickly shut it. You didn't know how to answer, you wanted to say yes but you weren't sure if you could.

“I-, well, I'm not really sure,” you scrambled to find words. He kneeled down, he was now on his knees in front of you. You took in a deep breath, looking away, completely weak from what was happening.

He grabbed your hand, stopping you from fiddling, “Tell me, please? I need to know, Y/n, I need to know how you are feeling. Do your hands linger longer on my face than his, or are you simply just flirting with us all? Don't play with me.”

You stared at your hand in his, which was now becoming a little clammy, “Jisung I shouldn't say-”

“Answer me, Y/n,” his voice was stern but his eyes were desperate, “do you look at them like me, do you touch them like me?” his face was dead serious but also pleading with you.

With a deep breath, you looked back at him, “If I didn't know any better I'd think your-” “Jealous? Extremely.” He answered before you could finish.

“Oh, Sungie..” You small smile formed on your lips, and he sighed again, laying his head on your lap. “Hyunjin in my chair really bothered you, huh? Is that why you were lingering over my shoulder?” You reached down and ran your fingers through the back of his hair, before gently patting his head and standing up, gesturing for him to sit on the chair instead.

He nodded and followed your gestures, sitting in the chair. You put your hand on the side of his face, a pout prominent on his lips, “I just get jealous. I know I shouldn't, I know it's your job.”

“It is, and you're my favorite client,” you still had your hands on the side of his face. A small whine came from his lips.

He reached forward to you, grabbing your hips, “You're so pretty, Y/n. I can't keep my eyes off you whenever you are in the room, just can't get enough of you. I always want to be around you…” he was pulling your hips closer to him, his voice laced with desperation. You looked at the clock, they had about an hour and a half until they had to be on stage. That's enough time, right..?

Without a second thought, you got closer, moving to sit on Jisung's lap. His hands were already on you, but now they were really on you, squeezing your hips, feeling up your thighs, running his hands up your stomach. His touch felt so nice, burning on your skin, you wished you had done this before.

“I've never seen you like this, Sungie.” his hands now resting on your thighs, kneading softly at your skin. Your breath was shaky but you were encouraged by how he was looking at you, like you were the only thing in the world.

He grabbed your waist and pulled your bodies closer, your torsos were now pressed against each other, “Just want you so bad...” he mumbled, “need to feel you on me, want you to be mine and no one else’s.”

The self-control left your body completely and you gripped the collar of his shirt, slamming your lips on his. Immediately a whimper came from his lips and his hands were all over you again, desperate, gripping, kneading. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, fighting for you to open your mouth so he could taste you, “you're so needy,” you hummed into the kiss, “I'm just yours, Sungie,” All the tension was breaking, all the glances at each other from across the room, the subtle flirts with each other, the jealousy, it was finally crumbling apart, and so was Jisung under you. His lips were sloppy on yours, spit around your lips from him hungrily kissing you. You broke apart only to move your lips to his neck, pushing his collar aside so you had more access to the sensitive spot between his neck and shoulders. Letting your tongue swipe across his neck, sucking and biting as his skin. He smelled good, sweet and woody, but you weren't focused on that.

“Please, keep going,” he whined, letting his head fall back on the chair. You took the opportunity to break away from sucking on his neck and started unbuttoning his shirt and his hips immediately started bucking up into you. You felt him under you, rock hard, straining against his jeans. His chest was heaving up and down, “is this okay?” you asked before tugging to take his shirt off, and Jisung eagerly nodded, helping you shrug it off his shoulders. “It's okay,” he barely breathed out, “just please don't stop,” grabbing your hips again and rolling his underneath you for some friction that shot please through your body. You both needed more, and you needed to hear the whines fall from his lips.

You sunk to your knees in front of him, “Let me help you baby, show you that you’re my favorite.” you ran your hands up his thighs, appreciating the sight in front of you with his eyes blown out, a mark forming on his neck. Jisung's mouth hung open as he watched you undoing his belt, he could hardly contain himself with you on your knees before him.

He lifted his hips to help you pull his jeans down, leaving just him in his plaid boxers, painfully hard, “touch me please,” he begged, gripping the sides of the chair. With such a sweet voice you couldn't deny him, you lifted your hand to squeeze him through the fabric and he left out a moan, his head going back again. With one hand rubbing his thigh you pulled his dick out of his boxers, jerking him slowly and watching his reaction, “feel good Sungie?” you leaned forward, letting spit fall from your lips and onto his tip.

“Yes! Feels good,” he twitched in your hand as your spread the spit over his tip, your hand gliding over his cock faster now, squeezing a little harder. Choked moans fell from his mouth as he watched you, reaching to grab your hair for something to hold, he urged you to put your mouth on him. You laughed a bit from his desperation, bringing your mouth to him and licking a long stripe up his dick from base to tip, eyes fixed on him as he mumbled pleads, “keep going, oh god, please, so warm,” his hand in your hair got tighter as he pushed your face closer to him. You allowed him to push you onto him, taking him in your mouth and sucking as he pushed your head further, bucking into your throat before letting go, “shit, I'm sorry.” you shook your head, “It’s okay, let me take care of you,” you got off your knees and stripped your shirt off to leave you in your bra before kicking your pants and underwear off. Jisung groaned at the sight and reached for you, “be patient, I'm right here,” you teased him, grabbing his hands and placing them on your shoulders before sitting on his lap again, sliding against him.

You were already so wet from giving him head, slickness coating his dick so you can easily slide against him. Jisung took a hand off your shoulder and brought it between your legs, rubbing his fingers over your clit, circling it, “Fuck, Ji, that feels good, you moaned out, grabbing his wrist, nails sinking into his skin. He hissed out but kept going, sinking his fingers into your entrance, one finger then another shortly after. His eyes never left your core, watching your back arch as curled his fingers in you, you dripped onto his his palm.

“You're so wet,” he looked almost dazed with how focused he was as he lifted his hand and sucked his fingers into his mouth, tongue licking off all off your wetness. He looked like he enjoyed it too much, moaning against his own fingers.

“Don't act so surprised,” you scoffed, running your fingers through his hair. He looked pathetic, fingers in his mouth and eyes nearly half shut. You couldn't resist him, using your legs to lift yourself up and line his tip up with your entrance, rubbing it across your folds and clit for a moment before sinking into him. You moaned and let your head fall onto his chest, reaching under his arms to hold his back.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” he held onto your hips so tightly you were sure it would bruise. He stretched you out, not the thickest but he made up for it in length. “I know,” you breathed out, kissing and sucking the other side of his neck and leaving more marks causing him to whine. Sure it would leave marks, but you were a makeup artist, you could fix that.

He was rutting up into you, needing more, and you lifted up before starting to ride him, setting a medium pace. You reached up to grab his hair and pull his head back so you could look at his face while he was in you. He already looked fucked out after a few seconds, and you loved every bit of it. The face you made up so carefully now falling apart under you.

“You're doing so good Sungie, you look so good,” you praised as you kept going, ignoring the burn in your thighs and where his hands were on your hips, moving to drag your nails down his chest. His hair was now messy and you were sure that the hairstylist would have to redo it completely. “Your hairs all frizzy, what a mess, Ji. So so pretty, so needy.”

He dick twitched as he ate up the praise and the sting on your nails down his chest, “I can't- I'm close, stop wait.” he whined and his hand was between your legs again, needing more of you before he could let himself go, rubbing your clit as you bounced on him, his other hand reaching behind you to undo your bra and let your breasts come loose. With a groan he leaned down taking one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and attacking it with his tongue, “want to make you cum,” he pleaded.

“Jisung, god..” you couldn't take it much longer and felt a knot forming in your stomach. He was everywhere, all over you, desperately touching you in every way he could. Hand between your legs, nipple in his mouth, and other hand on your other breast, squeezing it and kneading it. It's like your body was the only thing keeping him alive and he couldn't get enough of you.

It made your head spin and tipped you over the edge, back arching and legs stuttering and you began to let go, coming on him. Jisung was quick to grab your waist and hold you up as he began pistoning into you from under, holding onto you like a ragdoll and he overstimulated your throbbing pussy and you moaned into his neck as you clung onto each other.

His breath hitched in his throat and with just a few more thrusts he was coming inside you, twitching and dick spasming as it spurted out his cum, moaning and panting, “thank you, thank you, oh my god, thank you,” he repeated so many times, his body going limp, and falling into your arms now. Both of you riding out your highs, his cock starting to soften in you. “Can't believe we just did that,” you said shakily as you stood slowly. Your legs were a little shaky while often them off of Jisungs lap, both of you hissing from the overstimulation of him pulling out.

Jisung was lying back in the chair, legs spread, completely exhausted, “can we do it more?”

You laughed at him for already thinking about the next time, then your eyes fell on the clock. “You need to be ready to go on stage in 30 minutes Jisung!” time went by faster in the moment and you knew he was now pushing being late. Looking back at him you quickly started putting your clothes back on and helping him gather all of his, “We need to get you all out back together.”

He groaned at the thought of having to go back on stage, “I don't want to,” he whined as you handed him his clothes. It was adorable, but now wasn't the time to be lovey, he had a show to perform, and there was no way you were going to let him be late.

“Come on, Ji.” you encouraged as he slipped his clothes back on. There wasn't time for him to go back to the hairdresser before the stage, so you just ran your fingers through his hair as he was buttoning his shirt up.

The rest of the boys walking down the hall, you could tell by Felixs loud laugh as he yelled at Suengmin. Jisung was almost ready, besides his lips which were now smudged and swollen from his hungry kisses all over your body.

The boys walked in just as you were touching up his lips, you both felt like a deer caught in headlights as Chan raised an eyebrow at you both, “I didn't even realize you didn't get your hair fixed,” he looked between you two then back to Jisung.

“Look at him, his makeup is messed up! Jisung you need to quit eating after Y/n does your makeup, you give her so much more work to do!” Jeongin yelled at him, and you smiled.

“It's okay, we both just had some snacks,” you turned to look at Jisung who had wide eyes and was nodding.

“Yeah, I didn't eat, I needed something before the show…” he mumbled out.

You had to hold back a laugh with how red he was, “Have a good show, Jisung. You guys are up next.”

All of the boys left the room, Jisung following Minho out, “Dude, next time back sure you have her cover the hickeys.” he reached over to fix Jisung's collar that was folded under, covering the exposed hickey, before patting his back with a knowing look, then jogging to catch up with the rest of the group.

#han jisung #han jisung x reader #stray kids #smut #han jisung smut #sub han jisung #stray kids smut #bang chan #lee know #hwang hyunjin #kim seungmin #lee felix #yang jeongin #seo changbin

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thatfandomslut · 1 month

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I Will Always Take Care of You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: cursing, descriptions of being sick (flu symptoms like vomiting, coughing, fatigue, etc.)

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration Request; Regina George w/ quote 33 and piece of chocolate 4. Or; “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love… I love… I love you.” w/ sick

Valentine's / Followers Celebration requests are closed.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what to expect when her girlfriend called, begging her to come over because she was sick. Typically, (Y/n) could be categorized as extremely germophobic. However, when it came to Regina, she found herself speeding over and hesitating as she entered her home with a mask, gloves, and Lysol. Maybe it was a bit extreme, but she couldn't help the fact she hated being sick or receiving germs herself. Entering Regina's room, it didn't seem like the blonde minded. Instead, she cheered happily while being visibly loopy. Her nose was red and a bit chapped, her trash can (and around her trash can) was full of tissues.

She began to feel a bit guilty about all of the preventative measures she was going through to not get sick before Regina began to blow her nose. (Y/n) withheld her cringe, knowing the feeling all too well before she got to work. She replaced Regina's trash can, got her more tissues, and then got her a warm washcloth for her forehead. "Here you go, baby," (Y/n) placed the washcloth onto Regina's forehead, gently tossing away for gloves so she could cup Regina's cheeks softly. "Do you want me to make you soup?" She questioned softly, and Regina nodded sleepily.

Despite the mask, (Y/n) placed a gentle kiss on Regina's forehead, walking out to prepare some chicken noodle soup for her flu and her soul. Her mother always said that she made the best chicken noodle soup. (Y/n) checked to see what she was working with and was happy to know that the majority of ingredients were in attendance as she began to prep her soup. She would often take breaks to check on Regina, who was taking a nap. Which is what (Y/n) wanted. Regina looked exhausted, even more so when she was asleep. When the soup was done, she prepared a bowl for Regina and walked up the stairs.

Unfortunately, she found Regina's bed to be empty, but the sounds of retching are what helped guide (Y/n) to her girlfriend's whereabouts. She placed the bowl down on Regina's nightstand, placing napkins underneath it to prevent a ring from forming. As she entered the restroom, she gently helped Regina get the hair out of her face, tying it in the scrunchie (Y/n) saw on the counter. Once Regina had finished vomiting, she leaned back into (Y/n), trying to reach for her water bottle. (Y/n) grabbed it for her wiping the hair from her clammy forehead.

"I'm sorry that I called you here. I know how you are with germs. I'm grateful you came, though." There was a scratchiness to Regina's voice, tears still brimming her eyes delicately. (Y/n) wiped a stray tear and Regina's forehead fell against her shoulder gently. (Y/n) was about to speak as she wrapped her arms around Regina, but the girl in front of her beat her to it. "Thank you for coming, babe. Thank you for coming to take care of me."

(Y/n) pulled away, lowering the mask a bit to kiss Regina's forehead and then cheek. "Baby, I will always take care of you. Now, let's get you to your bed. If you're still up for it, I did make you that soup." (Y/n) helped Regina to bed, helping her eat her soup as Pride and Prejudice played in the background. "Oh! This is my favorite scene. 'You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love… I love… I love you, Regina.'" (Y/n) quoted easily, adding in Regina's name playfully, making Regina smile a bit at how cute (Y/n) was. It really warmed her heart that (Y/n) came, despite being such a germophobe.

In fact, a little giggle escaped her lips (that she had to pass off as nothing) when she thought of when (Y/n) and she went to the mall and she refused to ride the escalator because she didn't feel safe since she refused to hold onto the railing. Regina swore she had never walked up and down so many flights of stairs. Regina began to feel sleepy again after she finished the soup. "You are magic," she whispered softly. "I love you, too, (Y/n). I'm so lucky to have someone as caring as you in my life." The sleep in her voice was evident but she forced her eyes to stay open.

"Baby, if you're tired, you should go to sleep. You're not going to heal properly if you don't get enough rest." She had been caught red-handed. But she knew (Y/n) was right. (Y/n) placed the bowl to the side, moving the sheets beside Regina. The action surprised Regina thoroughly, but she didn't reject the cuddle advance. Instead, she took (Y/n)'s invitation and allowed herself to be held. She bit back a soft smile, thinking about how far they've grown as a couple. "Goodnight, my love. I'll be here when you wake up. If not in your bed, I'll be cleaning up."

The thought of (Y/n) leaving their cuddle session while she was sick almost made her emotional. That was mostly due to how crappy she felt though. "Please don't get up to clean. We can do it in the morning. Just stay here with me. You can put on whatever movie you want, but you're so warm and I'm so cold. All I want right now is to be in your arms." Regina all but whined, pouting softly against (Y/n)'s neck, in which she was buried in the crook of.

(Y/n) smiled softly, rubbing her back. "Okay, my love, I'll stay." She assured Regina, singing softly to help lull her girlfriend to sleep. She knew she had achieved this when she heard Regina's breathing grow a bit heavier. She couldn't help but feel her eyelids grow heavier at the comforting sound of her girlfriend's breathing. It wasn't long before (Y/n) joined in on the nap, not caring that she was breaking all of her mental rules of germaphobia. She had braved her fear just for Regina, wanting to make sure she was comfortable through the discomforts of having the flu.

#regina george x reader #regina george #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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obey-me-disaster · 1 year

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MC running away(and failing) after the demon brothers call them cute

A/N: Sometimes I think about the time I ran away out of instinct when a girl called me cute...I nearly tripped over a chair too. I would be a total mess in Devildom...

Lucifer

All he did was to call you cute after you made some coffee for him and you ran away. You managed to run into the door too before you opened it.

He gave you some time to calm down before before going to ask why you ran away. He was worried about having made you uncomofortable with his comment more than anything.

When you tell him it was just out of reflex cause you don't know how to react when people flirt with you he took a minute to process things. He was expecting anything but that.

Now that he knows you aren't uncomfortable with him calling you that, expect to be teased by him whenever you two are alone.

On one hand is to get you used to it, on the other hand is because he finds your reaction cute.

Mammon

He called you cute without realizing. You two were hanging out in his room and he was thinking how it would sound but unfortunately for him, he said it a bit too loud.

When he saw you start running his heart broke a little, but it was quickly forgotten when you tripped over some noodle cup on the floor.

After he made sure you were fine he went into full tsundure mode, going between not meaning it to 'Ya should be grateful the Great Mammon called you that'

You had to explain that you just panicked since you don't know how to handle people flirting with you. He honestly felt really stupid for his reaction after that. This shit will keep him up at night.

Leviathan

It was one of the few times where you were ranting about something you liked and not him while sitting in his bathtub. This whole scenario reminded so much of one of his favourite romance manga that he didn't realize he called you cute.

He only realize what he did when you suddenly stopped talking and your mind seemed to be all over the place.

He was about to start apologizing and take everything back when you try to run out of the room. Too bad you lost your footing while trying to get out of his bathtub of a bed and fell face first on the floor. At least that made him stop apologizing.

Literally efused to believe at first that you were not used to being flirted with. You were his Henry, how were normies blind enough to not notice you?? At least he took it as an opportunity to say that you two had one more thing in common

Satan

You two were cuddling in his room while he was reading a book outloud so you could hear it too. The whole atmosphere was so relaxing that you were begging to fall asleep while curled up to him.

Seeing how adorable you looked he was quick to tell you so giving you a kiss on the forehead. It took a few seconds for the words to register in your mind, but when they did you fell out of his bed and nearly brought one of his bookshelves down with you. to your defense his room is absolutely messy, one wrong move and you are burried in books

Despite the fact that he stopped the shelf from even coming close to you by using his magic he was still worried by your reaction.

To both his surpirse and amusement you turned out to just not be used to being called anything like that. Don't worry, he will keept that information in mind. Not for the best reasons, but at least he won't forget it.

Asmodeus

He discovered that being cute makes you run away out of instinct pretty early on. He really couldn't fanthom why more people didn't do that in the past, so he took it upon himself to compliment you and flirt with you to the moon and back

It took him a while to get you used to his compliments but it was all so worth it when you genuinely start to get more comfortable with being called all sorts of nice things.

The first time you didn't seem to get flustered by him calling you cute(or at least not flustered enough to run away and trip over something) he tackled you into a hug. You still ended up on the floor but at least it was not from running away.

He was so happy that he started to tell all of his brothers about it and try to convince them to flirt with you more. God bless Asmo or I guess not but he will put into an early grave at that rate

Beelzebub

It was after you offered to cook something that he called you cute. He was so happy that he was about to eat something made by his favourite person that the word just slipped out.

You tried to put the finished dish aside and and quickly make your retreat only to run face first into Beel's chest. Apparently he was standing way closer than you would have expected.

To make matters worse, he took your failed attempt at running as you wanting to give him a hug. Your only saving grace was the fact that he was beyond hungry so he didn't pay too much attention at the fact that you were flustered.

When you finally manage to exit the kitchen so you could go calm down your poor heart Beel was a bit disappointed that you didn't stay more it takes asmo or belphie to explain the whole thing when you run again anothef time

Belphegor

He is a little shit. He saw how you react when others call you cute and decided to use that knowledge to torment you.

You two could be cuddling or simply staying right next to one another when you feel his arms going around your waist. Thinking he only wants to use you as a pillow you don't move away from his touch.

Only when he starts teasing you and calling you cute do you realize it's all been a trap. You can't run away since he has an iron grip on you. the attic incident 2.0

Good luck at making him stop tormenting you. He adores too much how flustered you get to stop. You have better chanced at making him fall asleep than actually stop

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mooishbeam · 4 months

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『♡』 The Remarkable Machine Who Learned How to Love

♡ featuring: toji x f!reader

♡ cw/tw: none, a little angst but a whole lot of fluff! wc: 1.6k+

notes: i was thinking about this all day and decided to whip up somethin in a couple hours. hope u like :P art by manuel_juju on twitter! comments and reblogs are appreciated!

In a kill-or-be-killed world, Toji reached the top of the food chain—unfortunately, staying at the top is a thousand times harder than the climb. And when he looked down, there was no one to catch his fall.

Before Toji met you, he was as aimless as a speck of dust, carried endlessly by an unpredictable tide of winds. He followed the cracked and crumbled path bespoken for lost souls like himself. Destined to be nothing but a vessel, a hollow man of sturdy muscle who worked himself to the bone, filthy jobs common men wouldn’t dare consider, because who was there to stop him anyway? Was there anything left for men birthed from hopeless circumstances, raised by broken homes to turn to lives of criminality? He couldn’t find an answer. He wasn’t equipped with the empathy to understand why guilt gnawed at his conscious; why whenever he ate takeout in his dimly lit apartment, it spilled out the chasm in his chest.

It was much easier to complete the task, to trudge to a check cashing facility to retrieve money he couldn’t care less about. Perhaps he’d walk this earth alone forever, constantly watching over his back from a fear of daggers shooting from every direction, waiting to strike at his most vulnerable. It was only a matter of time.

Or maybe he’d allow his sins to surpass him. Accept the peaceful release of death and pay the price of a vacant funeral service.

It was all but irreparable, until he walked into his usual convenience store and encountered the new clerk at the register. It was past midnight, and Toji placed the quick meal on the counter. When his tired eyes panned up from those frozen noodles, his heart reset, a part he thought died amidst the torment. It skipped across his ribcage, stopped until a fleeting breath pulled him back to reality, to the intense fluorescent lights and your warm welcoming smile. There wasn’t a single altercation that stole the air from his lungs the way you did.

Life hadn’t torn you apart yet.

Your eyes didn’t break away, unexpected, as Toji was used to people hanging their heads near him. He’s aware of his threatening stare and intimidating stature; it’s what keeps him alive. And you were unbothered. You scanned his item, and flashed those pearly whites that sent a nosedive straight to his stomach, “I’m a big fan of this brand!”

Toji remained tight lipped, unwilling to sift through difficult emotions and experience a feeling he believed himself to be undeserving of. He nodded, and somehow you continued, “Shouldn’t eat so late, though. Messes with your stomach.” A puff of wind pushed from his nose before he could stifle it. “Are you a doctor in the daytime?” You chuckled and bagged, “Sorry, slow day.”

He arrives the same week, searching for a couple of beers to bring back to his apartment. You were in an obviously dangerous position, with one foot off the step ladder as you attempted to push a bottle of cleaner onto the highest shelf. It was a fight between gravity, and the opponent nearly won before his hand grabbed the handle. “Oh! Thank you” you smiled. It was sunnier than the last and reopened the stitches he’d been struggling to sew since that moment.

Toji suddenly had countless excuses to go to the convenience store. Sometimes he’d enter for a snack, and you’d discuss your favorite chips, other times he pretended to need items just to hear your voice ramble about a niche topic you knew too much about. When his heart thrummed off kilter, and his mind became consumed with thoughts of the pretty night-shift cashier, a piece of him demeaned. How embarrassing it was, to be attracted to the scripted kindness of a service worker. Toji barely recognized he had favorites, let alone desires. So why did he have such an unwavering desire to see you?

He’d snatch a pack of noodles one day, a subconscious grin at the joining of your eyes. It didn’t matter if the twinkle in your gaze wasn’t exclusive to him; for a second, it felt like someone cared, and it was fulfillment he couldn’t shake.

You leaned over the counter on your elbows, “Did you know there’s over 35,000 ramen noodles restaurants in Japan?”

“I didn’t, but that sounds like a lot of options.”

“Mhm, you should try one. The real thing is way better.”

“I’m sure. I don’t really go out to restaurants often, so…”

“Me neither”, there’s a lengthy pause, and you finally blurted, “maybe we could go together!”

He was stunned. Lost for words, really. It wasn’t possible, a girl as beautiful as you who wants to be seen with a stone-cold machine in public. It had to be a prank, a fabrication by fate to taunt him. You grew an anxious smile, “Hah, sorry, I overstep-“

“I want to.” You stiffened, and he found solace in your shared nervousness. “O-oh! Great!”

Toji’s first date with you had been a disaster, though. He’s heavy handed by design, and it’s no different in his daily life. His strength leads to instances of clumsy behavior. He expected you to be appalled, disgusted, or at least judgmental.

You never shunned him. When he held your hand too tight, you slightly unclasped it. He wanted to retreat, to stuff them in his pockets and remain at a safe distance. But you interlocked hands and spoke soft, “It's okay, just try not to hold so tight.”

He swung the door open for your entry and almost shattered the glass door on the opposite wall. “I appreciate your enthusiasm” you giggled.

He was afraid to even hug you—he might underestimate his strength and crush your sternum. Toji walked you back to your place and turned to leave. “I’ll see ya around.” Despite that, you guided his calloused hands around your waist, slinked into his broad body, and embraced him. Every aspect of you, foreign but comforting—little breaths fanning his shirt, fingers brushing along his back, sugary perfume wafting in his nose.

It was heaven on Earth.

Now years have gone by, and instead of bleached walls and silence greeting him as his eyes crack open in the morning, he smells the familiar scent of pancakes, pans clattering on the stove. He waltzes into the kitchen in a hazy state and admires the aching back of his very pregnant wife. You have a hand assisting your lower back and another on the wooden spatula scrambling eggs.

Toji dropped his past for you after the engagement. He cashed his last check and disappeared from the underground circle without a trace. He was aware if he continued the path he was heading, the result awaiting him was six feet under. The outcome was unimportant, however, you—the image of tears streaming down your face at his poor volition, your figure keeled over his gravesite under dewy grass and wailing for his return to no avail. He couldn’t stomach it. He had to protect you and commit to the next stage of his life. He’d never tell you about his previous work. It was for the best. He’d be selfish, just this once.

One sock is different from the other, wearing loose shorts and a random shirt sitting above your massive belly. It’s his preferred version of you. Your stomach and thighs adorned in stretch marks, shaped like tiger stripes that declare your strength through each dip and curve; It's his greatest honor. You’d take on the complications, unending exhaustion, and hormone imbalances to bless him with a child. Toji hasn’t let you lift a finger since you got pregnant, opting to handle all the household tasks, borderline subservient to the mother of his child. So, his mouth twists when he sees you up so early.

He stands behind you, hands trailing from your upper thighs to your stomach, then the small of your back. You lean into him while he massages circles and whisper a tiny “Good morning.”

“Ya could’ve woke me up” Toji mumbles, kissing your temple. He wraps around to the underside of your belly, mindful of his muscle, and lifts it carefully. His respect for you increases tenfold with the heavy weight on his palms. You hum a pleased noise, sudden relief from your back. He carries it and smooths his thumbs over the taut skin.

“You’re a late sleeper, and I haven’t made breakfast in a long time.”

“Ya don’t have to do a thing, y’know.”

“I know. But I wanna do this for you”, and he grins. It’s quiet, standing in the warmth of your bodies, sunshine glowing through the window to cast an angelic gleam on your face.

Then he feels an imbalance of pressure along his fingers and mild wriggling within your tummy. Toji traces the movements, seeking to play a game with his unborn child. Sometimes it scares him, to bring new life into a world that almost smothered his light. He worries that he’ll end up on the same road as him or he won’t be a good enough father. The journey of parenthood is a long, laborious one. You’re always learning, and Toji’s still processing the basics. It’s complicated, he trips and falters; yet you’re there to support him, through thick and thin, sickness and in health.

What was he if not for you—his pillar, his source of happiness and comfort. You’d given him everything to wish for and infinite reasons to stick around. An iron criminal, bested by no mortal, chipped away by compassion and gentle hands.

“You can let go if it’s too heavy.”

I can stay here forever.

#jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk

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suguruplsr · 2 months

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continuing my soft toji thoughts, i genuinely believe that after you come into his life, it would take a while before he has the revelation that he wants to live the rest of his life with you in it.

so ykw he does?

he starts saving his money, and betting on stupid horses less. sure, the old grumpy men in declining clans sure do pay a lot for one sorcerers life, but he still wants to have money to ensure that you two will continue to live better than before.

he doesn’t change some of his ways, which helps his pockets. still buying many packs of ramen and small amounts of food for himself. but eventually he learns to give you a few bills so he won’t get yelled at for eating poorly, knowing well you’ll come home in a few hours restocking the freezer and fridge with edible food that don’t contain high amounts of sodium, like those damn noodles he fills up with hot sauce and seasoning’s.

the only reason why he gives you money for groceries is because he felt guilty the first time, (and last), you had off handedly mentioned not having money for anything later in the week, because you spent it on food. he’d never put his woman in that position ever again.

it only took a few weeks of saving to put you guys in a well house, knowing you both enjoyed simplicity. he still made sure you had your little garden, a small cat and dog that you two enjoyed helping get comfortable in a environment together, and your own little area in the suburbs, still close to the city. just a field of land that he, without you knowing, bought.

toji knew that you still have your own life and people that you love to see, like going out with the girls on the weekends, or volunteering to be a substitute at the grade school down the street, so he made sure you two aren’t isolated on the outskirts.

i also think toji would have a very specific savings account that only shiu has access too. he knows he lives a dangerous life that could end at any moment, just a few more months, he’d tell himself every morning he wakes up to you. but even so, he has thousands of dollars routed to that account every 24th of the month, the date he proposed, knowing his best man would try to make sure you have access to all of his funds the second he stops breathing. but even then, you can never be too sure.

unfortunately, you’ll come to find out about this account during your watching of the sunset, seafood boiling in the house and waiting for the love of your life to make it home while your dog roams around the garden and your cat on your lap, fur eventually being stained with tears after answering that damning phone call from your late husbands best friend.

1 + 2

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alwaysforevermaybenever · 9 months

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YANDERE EX-HUSBAND: INTRODUCTION

× cw: general yandere stuff; malaysian/cantonese slang; reader is implied ethnically chinese (read her dialogue in Steven He’s accent); reader is also female; obsessive behavior; bribery; stalking; being held at gunpoint(?); threats; felony; implied murder; controlling behavior

× note: it's basically renheng/uncle roger and auntie helen

⌗ your beloved ex-husband? Hah! He’s no better than a plate of burnt egg fried rice with no spring onions or meat from a kopitiam(coffee shop). In fact, you’d pick studying at art school over looking at his face for a single second, even if it means your mother disowning you.

⌗ Unfortunately, even after getting divorced, you still live together. That’s because the house is bought under both your names, so you can’t just kick him out. And it’s not like you’ll have enough money to buy a new house after selling your current one, because half the money goes to him. Tsk. What a nuisance…

⌗ Yala, he’s handsome and rich, but he’s such a jerk and a micromanager! He always insists on telling you how to cook your signature noodles. (Mind you, you grew up learning how to make that. Your ma made sure of that.) He didn’t go to culinary school, so who is he to tell you that, huh?

⌗ You can’t stand being married to such a pompous man like him, so you locked yourself in your room on the wedding night. No way you’re gonna do anything with that eyesore (metaphor). That’s why five months later, after countless arguments and fights, you divorced him.

“Haiya, he CEO of a company, his net worth 1 billion. But he cannot even cook rice or defrost chicken for me when I ask him to? And you ask why I divorce him ah?” *slaps table*

⌗ However, your ex-husband doesn’t really care about your rants or complaints. You’re talking for hours on end about him, so that’s already a win in his book. He’s always on your mind!

⌗ He fully expected you to divorce him. That’s why he insisted on buying the house under both your names - you can’t get rid of him that way. All long as he’s under the same roof as you are, he couldn’t be happier. He eats the food you cook (leftovers because you’re used to cooking for all your relatives during family dinner), rolls on your perfectly made bed while you work your accountant job (in one of his other companies that you don’t know he’s the CEO of) and plays the picture perfect husband when your mom drops by (your 28501864817 relatives marching right behind her) with mooncakes and tangyuan (because she’ll beat you up with the tea set heirloom passed down forty-five generations when she discovers that you’re divorced with no sons!!).

⌗ How did you even get married to him if you hate him that much? Well, long story short, your mother and his mother are best friends, and their husbands are brothers, which made daily reunions even longer because they had so much to talk about. When they noticed that he showed interest in you as a child (one time), they decided that you two would get married when you were of age. While you were resentful that you were essentially forced into an arranged marriage, you pushed through it for the wedding ang pao (red packets) and tax benefits (at least until you divorced, which was when you started working and putting that science stream (not art!) degree to use).

⌗ You hate your ex-husband, but you do admit that he’s a good wallet. Besides, it’s not like he’s obsessive or possessive or a micromanager who stalks you when you go out or a genuinely bad person who commits felonies because he found out you were searching for potential bachelors because after all you’re in your prime! Right? And besides, who wouldn’t want to date and eventually marry you? But don’t worry your pretty little head because he’ll take care of them since he’s the only one you’ll ever need. Yeah, you’re divorced but who’s to say you can’t get remarried? Not the law!

⌗ And if he has to drag you screaming and kicking and cursing him (and his ancestors) to the ancestral plane and make you stand by the altar, that’s what his strength is for! And if he has to pay hush money to all the people present that’s ok, cuz he’s not rich for nothing and the relatives aren’t greedy bloodsucking money nabbers (me) just for show.

“Once again, until death do us part, my love… You at the back - put down that phone. I’ll pretend you weren’t trying to call the police, for the sake of this auspicious occasion. What do you mean my wife is being held at gunpoint and trying to punch me no she isn’t.”

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nartothelar · 10 months

Note

But for the vampire au, have you considered Emmet getting Severely Hurt™️ and Ingo turning him to keep his brother alive?

Or do they have an agreement to just let things happen?

“No.” Emmet responds simply, decisively.

The answer is expected and yet, the disappointment Ingo feels is an unwelcome heaviness, his constant frown turning genuine without it meaning to.

Ingo had asked the very same question thrice times now.

Once was when they were kids. It was casual inquiry that came with little prompting; he had asked out of curiosity more than anything. Ingo had asked Emmet after they had defeated a trio of challengers off hand. Emmet had laughed, light and airy, when he answered. They had gotten ice cream using their winnings after.

The second time had been following a much more harrowing experience. A safety check forgotten, a simple mistake by a depot agent newly hired, had resulted in a derailed train. Fortunately only a few were injured. Unfortunately, one of those few was Emmet.

Ingo had asked him with bags under his eyes, something quite silly since Ingo didn’t even need to sleep. (Was that makeup? Emmet had joked with an exhausted smile.)

Emmet, laying in that hospital bed, IV's in his arm and a cask around his left leg, had responded much the same, a chuckle rather than a laugh. Perhaps his headache had come back to manage much more than that. Ingo didn’t attempt to change his mind and offered him the chicken noodle soup Elesa had brought for him.

And the third time was right now: Ingo sitting across from Emmet in the dining room of their shared apartment. It was morning and even though the windows curtains were drawn, the room was illuminated with a soft glow. In front of his brother was a plate of eggs and toast, him nursing a cup of black coffee. In front of Ingo was just a cup of tea, untouched and cooling.

“But why don’t you want to be a vampire?”

The way he asks shows his cards far to easily. Whoever had said Subway Boss Ingo was hard to read must have not tried at all.

His brother looks at him, assessing him, and then looks away.

Emmet is silent for a minute, simply gazing at the cup in front of him. His food was getting cold.

Most would think Emmet was being hesitant when answering, that this was a sign he didn’t want to answer at all. But Ingo knows him well. He knows he wants to go over what he will day and that he voices his thoughts properly.

Ingo is patient and waits. Finally, Emmet answers.

“I like the sun.” His brother says, looking at him. The color of his eyes haven’t dulled all these years. “It feels warm on my skin. It feels good.”

“I love eating. The taste, the action. Yup!" Emmet picks at his plate with a hum. "I want to eat what I like, when I like."

“I like my independence." Ingo's tea leaves an ashy taste as he sips it - a floral chamomile bag floats at the bottom of it. "I do not want to be dependent on others. I do not want to be dependent on things out of my control."

"I know that I will have to sometimes." Emmet really looks at him now. "And that is ok. But I still feel the same way.”

Ingo squeezes his mug, before he relaxes his grip. Emmet notices.

Emmet lays his palm on his chest, closing it into a fist near the middle.

“I like being human.” It sounds final, the words like a gavel to wood, the way it echoes in his mind. “I do not want to be a vampire.”

Ingo wants to argue. To convince him that the pros outweigh the insignificant cons, but he does not. No. Usually Ingo is more eloquent with his words, but the fear that rises up in his throat makes his usually well thought out words more brisk, more succinct, more honest as he says the obvious.

“But you are aging.” Ingo says. You are dying, Ingo tries, fails, and a refrains to add.

Ingo hands are smooth, his face without a wrinkle. He looks as the same as he as when he first became a subway boss. He has since he was sent to Hisui. Forever youthful. And Emmet.

Emmet's hands are calloused, wrinkled from years of maintenance at gear station. His hair is thinning and his temples were turning white. His stride not as brisk as it was years ago.

“I am.” Emmet replies. “And I will continue to age.”

Ingo knows Emmet. He is stubborn, just like himself. That is how he is. He knows he will not change his mind. And that makes him clench his jaw, look down at his cup with furrowed brow.

“Ingo.”

Ingo snaps his head up, fear turning to anger that makes him feel sick. He should not be angry, but he is.

“Then you plan to reach your final stop?” Emmet’s smile dims. Ingo continues anyway. “Leave this station?” Without me? Ingo clamps down before he utters the accusation.

“You....you will have me wait here for you to die? And do nothing?!”

And there it is. Ingo barring his greatest fear since he got turned. The thing that has plaguing his mind since he stood at the grave of his old clan leader in Hisui, at the cemetery where his other wardens were laid to rest. What he had realized as he saw time passes by, years of constant goodbyes and tearful farewells.

It was that, no matter how grand his ideals, the simple truth of the matter was that he was utterly powerless to the passage of time.

Ingo doesn't realize that he has stood up until he is already towering over Emmet's seated form. His fangs barred and he suspects his eyes are slits.

And despite that, Emmet looks calm. He looks...sad.

“I didn’t ask for this.” Ingo says softly, deflated as the anger leaves his body. To live on as those around him pass. To see enjoy his life without the people he cares most around him.

Ingo feels arms wrap around him and he wraps trembling arms around Emmet too, his head laying on his shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, simply holding each other, not letting go.

"I'm sorry I never gave you the choice." Emmet finally says. Ingo's hands grip at Emmet's shirt. "We were young. You were dying. And I was desperate. I did not want to lose you..."

Emmet pulls back after that, not all the way, but enough to look into Ingo's face. His fangs have retracted, his eyes normal again. "But those details do not matter now, do they?" Emmet sighs out, that sad smile still there.

"They matter. Of course they matter." Ingo protests, but he doesn't elaborate pass that.

Emmet looks at the floor, thinking about his words and looks at Ingo again before saying, "Everything reaches its final terminal."

"Not me." Ingo says. It comes out bitter.

"Everything does." Emmet repeats, shaking his head. He squeezes Ingo's forearm before he lets go. "I did not give you a choice. but you can choose for yourself now."

His brother’s crows feet, a result from decades worth of smiles, crinkle at the edges as he looks at him. "Just as I choose for myself."

Ingo dwells on those words, on what his brother is offering. A choice and a decision to make. Emmet looks at him and Ingo understands.

With a sigh (a concession, a compromise), Ingo nods and accepts Emmet's answer.

That heaviness Ingo feels is not fully gone from his mind, but it has lightened, the tension of the room dispersing like the morning fog.

Emmet notices, smiles, and sits back down to finish his breakfast. Ingo follows. And then the silence is filled anew with his brother's latest retelling of yet another dealing he had with a rude passenger yesterday.

Ingo listens and they both laugh and talk and all is right and as it should be that morning, in their shared moment of time.

Him and his brother were a two car train, always have been, no matter their differences. And no matter what, he was going to be there with him until his brother's final destination.

And then after that, once that engine has long gone cold, Ingo would decide when his last stop was too.

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yuna542 · 10 months

Text

[1]<-

[2]

›Bad Idea‹

Pairing: Hong Woojin × Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, explicit Smut, under 18 DNI!, suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, hate sex, ANGST, fingering, bruises

Word Count: 6.1k

Note: Part 2… God I have so many ideas for Storys yet so little time to actually write them. But good news: I‘m soon on vacation, that means I‘ll have a lot time for writing. Hope you like this part. There will be big drama soon~ Much love

Summary: As Gunwoo‘s little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can't stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

Chapter 3:

The Mistake

Waiting, you stared at him when he made no move to turn around.

"Do you want me to change in front of you?" you asked accusingly, and that's when he seemed to remember his manners. With a wry grin, he ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, I wouldn't mind."

Stunned, you grabbed a pillow from the sofa and threw it at him to hide how your face flushed with redness. But he caught it and laughed derisively.

"Okay calm down! I'm going to take a shower too. Can you watch the ramen? It just needs a few more minutes."

Then he disappeared into the bathroom as well, and you heard the water being turned on.

After slipping into his clothes, which were of course too big for you, you had to admit that they didn't look as bad as you thought.

But you definitely wouldn't tell him that.

You continued to prepare the ramen, filling it into two bowls that you placed on the living room table, and just as you were tasting it, Woojin came out of the bathroom.

You nearly choked on a noodle at the unannounced sight of his wet adonis-like torso. He had a towel wrapped around his hips, surrounded by refreshing steam and you were sure it only took a gust of wind to loosen it. The mere thought made your whole head glow and you tried not to let on how hot you thought his entire appearance was. It was wrong to think such things and you were disgusted by your own mind. It was Woojin after all. A dickhead and an idiot with no manners or empathy.

He rubbed his hair dry with a towel and as he did so, his biceps stood out and his abs tightened. You felt reminded of history class because he looked like one of those ancient statues carved out of marble depicting naked bodies of the gods.

The bruises and red marks all over his ribs and stomach already looked nasty, and you scrunched your nose as he came closer.

"Does it hurt a lot?" you asked, pointing to one of the biggest bruises that was just below his chest.

He looked down at himself, threw away the towel in his hand, and shook his head. Casually, he dropped down on the sofa next to you and grabbed one of the bowls and chopsticks.

"It's no big deal," he dismissed it, lying.

In fact, every breath hurt like hell and he feared that a rib or two had been broken, but he would never have admitted that in his life. Not in front of you. You stared at him in disbelief for a while and before you could stretch out your finger, he caught your hand and looked at you with a warning tone:

„Don’t you dare!“, he said and you snorted amused. So you had your answer that he was just playing the hero. But you left it at that, because his tight grip on your hand was already messing up your insides again. With one last warning look, he let go of your hand and tried to look unbothered.

As you continued to eye him concerned, he shook his head like a wet dog, and when you nudged him in annoyance at the drops of water hitting you, he just grinned broadly.

"Bon appétit!" he said enthusiastically, and so you ate in silence.

The fact that he was wearing only a towel played with your mind and you tried not to stare at his body all the time, although that was getting increasingly difficult.

It wasn't long before your bowls were empty.

Woojin took them to the kitchen and when he returned, you nibbled your lower lip uneasily. He looked at you unobtrusively.

It was strange to see you sitting cross-legged, in his clothes on his couch and despite everything you looked like a princess. A sight he never imagined to see.

"Ah shit," you cursed and groaned in pain as you put too much strain on your hand.

Silently, he sat down next to you again and grabbed your hand as if it was natural. He turned it and looked at your scraped knuckles in the light. With a furrowed brow, you watched as he palpated your wrist and pulled your hand away with a hiss as a sharp pain shot through your arm.

"Ouch! Be careful, dickhead! What are you doing?" you whimpered, and he glared at you again.

"Stop bitching around! I'm trying to help so Gunwoo doesn't rip my head off. Luckily you just bruised it because you snapped your wrist when you punched him."

Questioningly, you looked at his hands, which he demonstratively clenched into fists.

"You see that? Your wrist must always be tense when you punch, otherwise you can break your hand," he explained and you made a fist as well.

"Like this?" you asked curiously, holding it out to him.

Carefully he enclosed it with his strong fingers and straightened your wrist. His skin was warm on yours and you resisted the urge to grab his hand at the last moment.

"Almost. That's it. You have to keep it straight and tense as you punches," he said, smiling delightedly. It was clear how much fun he was having teaching you some of his passion.

You caught yourself smiling pleasantly as well, as you watched the enthusiastic gleam in his eyes while he spoke. He continued to hold your hand and that's when your eyes met.

As you gazed at each other in silence, the air became electrically charged and something in your stomach fluttered uneasily.

"Do you want me to take a look at that? That looks pretty bad," he said then, pointing to the wound on your eyebrow.

Before you could even answer, he already fetched a first aid kit, which he probably needed often, and spread it out in front of you.

"Can you put some clothes on first?" you asked before he could come closer, fearing you would lose your mind if he touched you like that too. You waved your hand in front of his chest, while you tried to avoid eye contact:

„That is irritating...“

He himself seemed to have completely forgotten that he was half naked and took a pair of boxershorts from the pile of clothes and slipped into them without further ado.

„Oh really? I thought you could handle a real man“, he provoked and was obviously proud of his stupid saying. You just crossed your arms and looked up to him with raised eyebrows.

„I could if there was one here.“

Offended, he mumbled something unintelligible, which certainly was an insult and rummaged in the pile of clothes. Then he put on a black shirt with the typical 'Metallica' lettering printed on it, before he sat down in front of you again and leaned your head on the chin to the side to have a better view of the cut on your eyebrow.

With skillful moves, he prepared disinfection, a wound ointment and a plaster. It was obvious that he was skilled at this. You already knew the procedure from Gunwoo as well.

You had treated him and his best friend countless times when they came home after training or a fight. Not only boxers knew quickly about such things, but also their environment.

"Now that hurts a little bit. I'm counting to three. One..."

And already he pressed the swab with the disinfectant on the spot and you squeaked loudly in pain. It was obviously the revenge for your mean comment.

Angrily, you punched him in the shoulder. This time your wrist was tense, yet it seemed to have no effect on him.

"What the hell! You said on the count of three!" you snapped at him, squinting your eyes as your entire head seemed to be on fire. God you hated him so much.

"It must come unexpectedly. It’s better," he replied, clearly amused, and dabbed the ointment on your wound with such gentleness as you were not used to from him.

Expertly, he stuck a plaster above your eyebrow and looked at his work with satisfaction.

"Voilà!" he presented it with both hands and smiled.

"Now it's your turn!" you said then and he nodded curtly.

"Okay. But please don't make it worse than it is," he replied teasingly and you gave him an annoyed look. As you set to work dabbing the wounds, you asked in passing:

"Why did you help me?"

"You're my best friend's sister. So you're my responsibility, too."

Your eyes met for a moment and there was that crackling energy again, making your skin tingle. Quickly you averted your eyes and pressed the swab with disinfectant on his wound to stop whatever was happening. It was almost panic as you avoided his gaze. He twitched slightly, but didn't make a sound.

"I mean how did you find me?"

The question had been burning on your tongue ever since he had suddenly appeared and beaten the assholes to a mush.

"I stayed at the party to keep an eye on you. Then when you left, I followed you."

Briefly, you paused and looked at him suspiciously.

"That's kind of creepy..."

He leaned against the back of the sofa with one arm and tilted his head a little.

"Oh well, you're lucky I was there."

He was right about that. Without him, something really bad would have happened. You didn't even want to imagine how it would have turned out if he hadn't shown up like a knight in shining armour.

But then something occurred to you.

"You've been watching me? The whole time?" you asked, thinking about your little makeout session with the guy. Had he seen all of that?

"It wasn't my idea... Gunwoo wanted me to watch you."

That made more sense. Your brother had told him to do it. Woojin probably didn't care at all what happened to you. You breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't bring up making out. He probably hadn't even noticed.

You nodded slowly and began spreading the cream on his wounds.

"Thanks anyway."

He watched as your eyes wandered intently over his face, trying to get every detail. How your eyebrows lifted slightly when you spoke or how you nibbled on your lower lip when you were thinking or concentrating.

Your slender fingers felt comfortable against his skin and he secretly wished you would never stop touching him.

"There is one thing that does interest me..."

"Huh?"

"Why did you just leave the poor guy? Was he that bad?" he asked, and immediately your heart flipped over and heat shot into your cheeks. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and tried to avoid his gaze.

So he had seen it after all and couldn't just let it go.

And the worst part was that he clearly enjoyed the way shame turned your cheeks red and you uncomfortably brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"No... he... I was... that's not the..."

You cursed yourself for only stammering coming out of your mouth, but Woojin had caught you off guard. Why were you so uncomfortable talking to him about it, and why didn't he stop looking at you so piercingly? Under no circumstances would you have told him the truth. That you had been thinking about him while someone else was all over you. You hated the fact yourself and still blamed it on the alcohol.

The corners of his mouth twitched knowingly and only now did you notice how close his lips hovered in front of yours. You had been so focused on treating his wound that you hadn't noticed how close your faces were in front of each other.

If you wanted to, you just had to lean forward a little and you could touch his lips with yours.

"So?" he asked teasingly, his voice getting a lot deeper.

His shimmering eyes made you all jittery and when he put his hand on your hip, your breathing only faltered.

"He just wasn't my type," you tried to end the subject, spreading the last of the ointment on his cheek.

"What's your type?" he continued to ask, and you hated his handsome face, prominent jawline and those engaging eyes for making you a flustered mess.

"Why do you want to know?" you mumbled, putting the ointment down and freezing as he lifted your chin with his index finger so you had to look him in the eye.

"Just out of curiosity."

Was he flirting with you? No he couldn't be. He was just messing with you and would laugh at you at any moment for taking it from him. After all, he didn't even like you and you didn't like him, so what was all this about?

"I can tell you what's not my type..."

"I'm listening."

His eyes were luminous in the dim light of his apartment. Your voice was low, but soft as velvet.

"Guys who are cheeky and ruthless. Act stupid all the time. Who don't know when to shut up. Who prefer to solve their problems with their fists rather than their mind. And think with their dick rather than their brain."

"Then I'm your walking nightmare."

You snorted in amusement and there your noses brushed against each other. The brief contact was enough to make everything go crazy in your head.

"And you? What kind of girls are you into?" you asked, just to say something.

Maybe to stop what was about to happen. He put his hand gently against your cheek and you could feel his warm breath brush against your lips as he spoke. You were both fighting an internal battle, wanting to break away from each other and put as much distance between you as necessary. However, your bodies did not obey.

"Until now, I thought I knew."

The rasp in his voice gave you goosebumps. Everything in you screamed to flee, to push him away and never speak a word to him again. But the heat rushed in your ears and your body no longer listened to you.

"What do you mea..." you were interrupted when his lips collided with yours and he pulled you stormily closer.

The defiant voice in your head grew quieter and the kiss was chaotic, emotional. Just as you knew Woojin and sensual at the same time.

His tongue slid over your lower lip and as soon as you opened your lips a little, your tongues fought for dominance. His hands slid to your hips, reaching for you, and you buried your fingers in the fabric of his shirt at his chest. Soon the whole thing was just a mess of tongues, teeth, groping and greedy touches.

All the tension between you, the anger and adrenaline of tonight unloaded between you and he tasted so addictive you never wanted to taste anything else. You didn't know if it was minutes, maybe hours, when you broke away from each other, panting.

Only then did you remember what was actually happening.

"What the... How," you stammered and ran your hands through your hair, overwhelmed. You couldn't bear to look each other in the eye for even a second, afraid of what else you would conjure up.

"I'm sorry. That was stupid," he muttered, and then you dared to look at him again. His lips lured seductively.

It all didn't matter now anyway, did it?

"Yes. It was."

He took a rasping breath as you grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and roughly pulled him closer again.

"Do it again!" you murmured, and he didn't need to be told twice. Relieved, his hands flew to your hips and your lips crashed together again. He pulled you onto his lap and you buried your fingers in his hair as you licked incessantly into each other's mouths.

The kiss was heated and more passionate than anything you had ever experienced. Like a fire it burned everything to ashes and his hands explored your body everywhere the fabric revealed a strip of skin.

"Shit you taste like candy," he murmured between kisses to your lips, spreading them along your jawline. A sigh escaped you as he grazed the sensitive spot behind your ear and you unconsciously rolled your hips against him.

He turned you on in a way that made your heart pound and your head spin. Briefly he paused and looked at the strangulation marks on your neck left by the gorilla.

Carefully he stroked the reddened areas and you thought you felt relief only from his touch.

Then he gently brushed his lips over them, caressing your skin as if he could heal it like that, and you laid your head back with your eyes closed while he worked his magic all over your neck. It was unreal how he melted your whole body just with that.

He ran his hands under your shirt and stroked your belly, your sides, up to your back. Gradually you couldn't stand it anymore. Your core pulsed excitedly and you wanted everything from him at once.

"Stop teasing!" you gasped as he sank his teeth into your neck. He lifted his gaze and looked like a puppy with those shiny eyes and excited smile.

"I can't help it. You're too cute, the way you're so desperately grinding on me."

Startled, you only now noticed how you rolled your hips against his middle. Your body had taken on a life of its own, desperately trying to create more friction to soothe the immense desire in your lower belly.

"Are you blushing?" he teased, squeezing your hips.

"Are you shy after all?"

Annoyed by his jokes and arrogance, you unceremoniously pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. You could play this game, too. He should realize that he wasn't in control.

Surprised, he raised his eyebrows and his gaze was immediately glued to your naked body. He stared at your perfect breasts that he had imagined so many times when you came rushing into Gunwoo's room in those short pajama shirts that were way too small for you to yell at them to turn down the music.

"Fuck... Your tits are really perfect," escaped him and he immediately grabbed your breasts with both hands, cupped them and groped them while he spread kisses on your collarbone again.

"Do you think about my tits often?" you asked provocatively, gasping as soon as he sucked your skin and kneaded the soft flesh of your tits in his hands. The heat flowed together in a river between your legs and you could feel his hardened length through the fabric of his boxers.

"No wonder when you dress so slutty...you always run around in those short clothes at home when I'm there," he shot back less eloquent, completely distracted by your curves and soft skin. Soon his mouth closed around your nipple and he also worked your soft skin on your breasts as if he couldn't get enough.

You pushed him back roughly on his chest until he hit the back of the sofa and looked up at you with a mischievous expression on his face.

"You're insulting me while you're groping me all desperate?" you asked incredulously, taking advantage of the moment to take a breath.

"I thought you couldn't stand me?"

He pressed your hips harder against his in response, so that his hard dick pressed right up against your needy cunt. It was a little scary how big he felt through the fabric.

"I can't stand you. But I still think you're hot. Stop with the sass mouth. I know you want me!" he replied sharply and you laughed in amusement.

"You have a really overrated self-esteem."

Nevertheless, with greedy fingers you finally ripped his shirt off his body and stroked his bruises with care. His abs felt hard under your fingers and you sucked in a sharp breath as he began to rub your hips against his hard length.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, placing kisses all over your chest, nibbling on your neck. You threw your head back, growing,

"Fuck, If i didn't I wouldn't be half-naked on you."

Satisfied, he grabbed your ass and stood up with you as if you weighed no more than a feather. You held onto his neck and so he carried you to his room.

Red LED lights bathed the small room in an spicy atmosphere and in the corner of the room was a bed on which he placed you. He stepped between your legs and climbed over you until he was looking down on you.

He enjoyed the sight of your exposed body beneath him and before he could gape any further, you pulled him down to you and kissed him again.

At the same time he helped you get rid of the sweatpants and couldn’t stop touching your skin everywhere. You could feel his dick pressed against your thigh through his underwear, and your cunt tingled excitedly as his hands traveled agonizingly slowly down your belly.

"You want me to touch you, don't you?" he whispered in your ear, his fingers playing across the surface of your underwear and making you very, very aware of how wet they were.

"You are so arrogant. It's disgusting you know?" you said with a razor sharp tone that made his eyebrows twitch. It was the typical expression you always saw when you got on his nerves and managed to make him angry.

You tried not to look particularly impressed as he brushed his hand over your inner thigh, and yet as soon as he stroked your covered middle, you exhaled loudly.

"Uhh... Do you think you can resist much longer? Just admit you want me," he purred and god he had no idea how much you wanted to tear the last shred of fabric from his trained body, so that he would fuck you senseless. But instead you stubbornly withstood his gaze and let your fingers wander in circles over his chest.

"Do you really think you can satisfy me? You seem to have quite a bit to compensate for.... ah"

A short cry, more like a surprised moan escaped you as he slipped his hand unannounced into your panties and sank two fingers inside you.

Smugly, he began pumping them into your wet cunt while your mouth was open and you clung tensely to his upper arm, which he used to support himself next to your head. He looked down at you with a dangerous grin, like a predator eyeing its prey, and you could no longer hide what his touches were doing to you.

His thumb began to massage your clit at the same time and the heat in your lower abdomen clenched into a coil of pure fire. Whatever he did with his fingers made you drift off completely into the fog of ecstasy and the sinful moan he tore from you was like a reward for him.

"That sounds so much better... If I had known your moans sounded so pretty, I would have shut you up by doing this much sooner."

His words made the anger rise in you again. Why could you absolutely dislike each other, and yet it was the hottest thing you had ever experienced?

He sped up the motions of his fingers and the room was filled with the wet sounds and your moans as he memorized every expression on your face. You were beautiful the way you looked at him out of those angry big eyes, but couldn't hide the way your high rolled relentlessly closer.

"Don't you dare stop!" you gasped breathlessly, and he just laughed softly as your fingernails dug into his arm and he felt your cunt clench around his fingers.

"Don't worry. I want to see your face when you come around my fingers," he breathed against your ear and sucked on your neck, working his way back down and wrapping his lips around your nipple. He bit into it lightly while you were already starting to see stars.

His long fingers and mouth on your heated skin was enough to drive you over the top.

Trembling, you buried your hands in his hair and tugged on his strands overwhelmed as the world around you faded into white while you moaned his name as you came.

He savored your high to the last second and then he pulled his fingers out of your panties. While your chest rose and fell frantically and you tried to get back in touch with reality, he slipped his fingers into his mouth and licked your juices off of them.

Then he leaned down to you again and kissed you. With the kiss you slowly drifted back to reality. He had given you the best orgasm of your life only with his fingers. You could only imagine what it would be like to feel his dick.

The kiss was messy and hurried, tongues exploring every corner they could find and gradually swayed into sensuality. He grinded his hard dick against your inner thigh and you could clearly feel how impatient he was getting.

You felt how you became addicted to more, which is why you ran your fingers down his stomach. Even though you saw him half naked every day at training, it was something else to feel his muscles. Firm and seductive pressed against your soft body.

Almost playfully, you let your fingers wander over his waistband of boxers, sliding them in a bit as he greedily licked into your mouth and kneaded your breast with one hand.

He exhaled rattling as you rubbed your covered pussy right against his dick and he felt the soaked fabric even through his underwear. Your body was like a drug he would probably never get off of again.

His dick was so hard it was already painful and you smiled as he broke the kiss, breathlessly almost begging:

"Can I fuck you?"

"Just shut the fuck up and do it already!" you replied and it was as if you had given the starting signal for a boxing match. He tore off his underwear and got rid of your panties in record speed.

When his cock jumped free and bounced heavily against his belly, you couldn't suppress a surprised gasp.

He was indeed big... Very big.

When he noticed your gaze, he smiled with satisfaction and lined himself up with you.

"Still think I need to compensate for something?" he asked mockingly and you could feel his tip already at your entrance.

"Do you want to talk or fuck me?" you shot back as your cunt was already pulsing impatiently and you wanted to finally feel him. Even if it would hurt.

"You're so incredibly annoying..." he grumbled, and held your hips in place, so that you couldn't move back from his massive cock. Before you could retort anything snarky, he pushed in one unbroken movement inside of you and your entire body came alive with electric pleasure that has you gasping as he held you there, with his hands firmly on your hips to stop you from wiggling away. As he draws back and pushes back in so hard your vision splits with stars and heat explodes beneath your skin.

It hurt as he stretched you out and you could only see through the tears how much he enjoyed your fucked out face as he proved to you that he wasn't just talking stupid. You clawed at his back and your gasps quickly turned to pornographic moans. The pain was flooded and washed away by the arousal the more he stretched you out.

His thrusts hit something inside of you that made you soon choke on your moans, because you were still so tangled up from his fingers teasing you that you were close again already, and you knew exactly that he's never going to let you live this down.

Woojin was a professional athlete, you knew that. But now you realised behind closed doors, under the sheets, he was an olypian.

He set a fast pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, deeper inside of you every time. The world around you blurred in arousal and you wrapped your legs around his hips as he seemed to hit deeper with every thrust. His bed squeaked dangerously and banged loudly against the wall. Woojin's neighbors would probably barely be able to sleep a second, but you couldn't care less.

"You feel incredible," he gasped, intercepting your whimpers with intense kisses, and you felt yourself falling apart at any moment. When he perceived that your body was tensing, he intertwined his fingers with yours and pressed your hand into the mattress beside your head.

"Woojin... fuck... I'm gonna..."

You didn't remember how to form words or put them in proper order, but he understood you even without words. He read your reactions and your body like a book.

"It's okay, dollface! Come around my cock!"

At that moment, something exploded in your head and your orgasm gripped you with such force that you moaned his name loudly and your walls almost crushed him. It was like your body was burning and your brain was turning to mush. If you died now, you would be beyond pissed because you were with Woojin, but at least you had the best sex of your whole life.

"Fuck... oh fuck," he moaned, and a low growl escaped him as he too was on the verge.

"Come inside me! I'm on the pill!" you gasped and he moaned at your words.

„Shit... You're naughty."

He only thrusted into you hard one more time until he too came and shot his load deep inside you. After a few sloppy thrusts, he collapsed on top of you breathing heavily and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

So you slowly calmed down, listening to each other's heartbeat, and you stroked him dizzy over the back. It took quite a while for both of you to gradually drift back out of the thick fog of fuzzy state.

Neither dared to say a word for fear of what would happen. Silently you traced the lines of his marine tattoo and he grumbled comfortably, making your body vibrate.

"What did we do...", you whispered after a while and that's when he lifted his head, took another deep breath of your scent to store it in his mind and then rolled off you onto his back.

Suddenly everything was like before, only the heavy smell of sex in the air was new. You swallow at the awkward aftermath because you didn't think this far. You never even thought this was a possibility in any universe.

You both stared at the ceiling, trying to understand what had just happened. You pulled the blanket around your body and rolled onto your side, with your back to him.

What was that fluttering in your stomach? Why couldn't you bear to look at him?

Restlessly, you nibbled on your bottom lip and closed your eyes. Hopefully you would just wake up in your bed and all this had never happened. It would just be a dream, that you could be ashamed of, but nobody would ever know about it. Especially Woojin would never know. You had a feeling that everything he did would now somehow remind you of sex with him.

"Still hate me?" he asked into the silence and you replied:

"Definitely"

"Just as much?"

"Maybe a little less"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise when he actually laughed. You stared at the opposite wall until the corners of your mouth went up as well and you giggled too. The whole situation was too surreal to be true.

First your mortal enemy saved you from thugs and then fucked you senseless.

That's when you turned around and looked at him. He ran his hand through his thick curls and when your eyes met, you grinned like idiots. Never in your life had you expected this situation.

He also rolled onto his side until your faces hovered close to each other.

"That was a mistake," you mumbled after a while and he nodded.

"Yes... Gunwoo must never know about this."

For the first time, you fully agreed with him, and the mere thought of your brother getting to know even a glint of it gave you goosebumps. Still, you couldn't stop looking dreamily at the other and admiring each other's features. Were his cheekbones always this sharp?

"Then let's not regret it until tomorrow..." he then murmured and that was okay with you. Silently you nodded and that's when he reached out and pulled you closer by your hips under the covers.

You snuggled against his chest and he put his big arms around your body, squeezing your ass teasingly.

Just for tonight.

That's what you kept saying to each other in your mind. It was just for tonight and tomorrow all this had never happened.

After all, the whole thing had nothing to mean.

So it was okay when your lips lay on each other again and your hands wandered over each other's bodies. Just for tonight. You delayed the morning as long as possible, until you fell asleep snuggled close to him, relaxed and secure.

And with a smile on your lips.

The next morning, when Woojin woke up, you were gone. So were your things, and he looked in his closet for safety. Only when he saw that his clothes were indeed missing, he believed that he had not imagined the whole thing.

While eating breakfast, he glanced at his phone and spotted a message from you:

"If you tell anyone about this, you're dead."

Despite the threat, he smiled slightly and looked at the sofa where the first aid kit still lay.

You had disappeared in the early morning. It would be too strange to look him in the eyes in the morning. You didn't know what you would say and you would have liked to leave the country, never to see him again.

The worst thing was that you just couldn't stop thinking about last night. On the bus you unconsciously smelled his shirt you were wearing again and you would have loved to punch yourself.

Quietly, you unlocked your front door and were about to sneak into your room, but Gunwoo was already awake and packing his training bag. When he heard the door, he turned to you and froze when he saw the wound on your temple.

Then his gaze traveled down your body and only when he had silently looked at your torn dress in your hands as well, did he ask:

"What happened?"

You couldn't say anything. You just stood there and suddenly everything fell away from you. The attack, the beating, the feeling of the gorilla's hand around your neck, and finally the bruises in your palms from the rope.

It all came back with such force that you trembled and tears welled up in your eyes.

Immediately, your brother came up to you worriedly and wrapped you in his arms. You let everything you held in your hands fall and buried your face against his chest, while your body was shaken by heartbreaking sobs. The hopelessness and fear you had felt reverberated within you, but Gunwoo's smell and warmth softened the helpless feeling.

He was the only one you could admit your weaknesses to, and your heart instantly lightened as he stroked your hair and just held you close.

"It's all right. I'm here," he murmured reassuringly and as soon as you caught your breath, you sat down at the kitchen table where his boxing gloves were.

Then you told him everything. Well, almost everything.

You left out the thing about Woojin and the sex. After all, that had never happened.

Gunwoo's face darkened with every word and his knuckles stood out white, so tightly did he clench his hands into fists. After you finished, you restlessly played with one of his bandages lying on the table.

"Are you mad?" you asked quietly, and that was the first time he really looked at you.

"God no! I'm just glad you're okay. I should have taken better care of you..."

He blamed himself. You quickly shook your head and reached for his hand across the table.

"No it wasn't your fault. Besides, Woojin was there to save me after all."

He nodded, but his jaw twitched tensely. Then he stood up and hugged you so tightly that you could barely breathe. But that was okay.

As he continued packing his things, you took your first real look around the kitchen. The cabinet under the sink was open and there were pipes and towels everywhere.

"What happened here?"

Gunwoo zipped up his bag and slipped into his jacket to leave for training.

"A pipe broke... I've already called a plumber and Mom really wanted to fix it herself. Could you help out at the café today?"

"Sure. Then I'll bring you pastries to training this afternoon."

Gunwoo's eyes sparkled with delight and he nodded vehemently.

"That sounds good. I'll see you later then."

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you tousled his hair in revenge before he disappeared through the door.

Shortly after, you fell back into bed and slept for another hour before heading to the café.

-> [3]

—

Taglist (open):

@marked-unknown @littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @artisticbirb @amnmich @tasteskz-sworld

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thefreakandthehair · 7 months

Text

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 7th: Wayne | The Seeker - The Who | Warm a/n: vampire!eddie, eddie & wayne, implied steddie. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

Wayne takes Eddie in officially when he’s 13 years old. It’s winter in Indiana and the kid shows up without so much as a jacket.

Who doesn’t buy their kid a jacket in Indiana winter?

Well, Clyde Munson, apparently.

He’s dropped off at Wayne’s trailer with no coat and refuses to shake Wayne’s hand when he offers it out in a gesture of good will. Eddie’s a skinny kid, a little scraggly and a lot ornery, but nothing Wayne knows he can’t fix with some hot dogs and a few hugs.

He’s almost always cold though, no matter how much weight he puts on, or however many layers he wears. Wayne makes sure he has a good coat and tries his best to keep the trailer warm but it’s tough in these midwest winters.

Trailers hold the heat in the summer, and unfortunately, the chill in the winter.

He takes the opportunity to Eddie how to make the best hot chocolate, even the occasional tea, and passes along his favorite soup and stew recipes. Grandma Munson taught Wayne and Clyde when they were kids, and it’s a goddamn shame that Eddie was robbed of making those memories, too. The intention was to share family recipes but Wayne’s pretty sure that Clyde’s forgotten the old peach kitchen in its entirety. Eddie loves them though, all of them– potato soup, chicken noodle, beef stew.

They keep him and his heart warm at the same time.

Wayne watches Eddie grow up, watches him struggle in school and with himself, but he knows his boy is trying. He hadn’t had the easiest start to life so Wayne gives him yards and yards of slack when he fails his senior year twice, when he grows his hair out, when he plays that racket at all hours of the night, when he’s brought back to the trailer park by Chief Hopper instead of to the station. He has an agreement with his old fishing buddy, and Chief Hopper knows Eddie’s misguided but harmless.

But then Chief Hopper dies, or so he thinks, and Eddie doesn’t have this protection from the closed-minded townspeople who see him as a leper, a stain on their town.

Eddie’s accused of murder and Wayne knows that his boy who only drinks hot chocolate out of his Garfield mug and shivers until there’s two thick blankets thrown over his shoulders didn’t do it. Not when he’s constantly talking about protecting the younger kids of Hellfire Club from the “dystopian nightmare of normalcy” and taking a cut of his weekly dealing profits to buy cat food for the park strays.

Wayne understands why Eddie runs, but it leaves him sitting alone, wondering, afraid. Eddie’s his to keep safe, no matter how old he gets, and now he can’t. He can’t protect him from the town, he can’t protect him from the media, he can’t protect him from the basketball team or the earthquake that follows. There’s no way to link them logically, but he knows in his heart of hearts that Eddie’s disappearance and the odd series of catastrophic earthquakes are related.

It only gets worse when Dustin gives him the bloody guitar pick, that red one Eddie wears daily cold and sticky in his calloused hands. No one will tell him the truth, but Eddie is a survivor. If there was a way to climb out of a ditch or from under a tree, he would’ve. Hell, these friends of Eddie’s that Wayne meets in the aftermath look like his company coming back from the War.

The Harrington boy in particular tells him the same story: Eddie was lost when the Earth splintered open and he pushed Dustin out of the way in a show of self-sacrifice, but his eyes seem desperate, unfocused, lost.

Wayne knows this was no earthquake and goes searching.

Every night for months, Wayne goes out into the woods and looks. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, exactly, but he ignores everyone who tells him to let it go and work through his grief. He doesn’t need to mourn until he knows for sure that Eddie’s dead and he doesn’t. Not when the Harrington boy looks like there’s a truth beating at his chest as he watches him with a kind of pity that doesn’t match the story.

It’s a sweltering summer night when he heads into the woods looking for answers for the last time. He and his flashlight search the brush, look beneath bushes and behind gnarled trees. An owl hoots in the distance and Wayne hears the snapping of twigs behind him.

Wayne turns to face whatever approaches him, frighteningly calm. After the past few months, he’d welcome a bear.

What he finds instead is Eddie. Or, well, a version of Eddie. His eyes are less chocolate brown and more red velvet, and he was always a pale kid but Wayne doesn’t remember the bluish bags beneath his eyes. He’s still Eddie– there’s something different about him, but it doesn’t matter. Not to Wayne.

“Eddie?” Wayne steps forward.

“Hey, old man.” His voice echoes, almost musical, but it breaks all the same. “I shouldn’t be here, but I couldn’t keep you in the dark anymore. A lot of things happened, but I’m… well, not quite alive but I’m okay. Or, at least I’m gonna be.”

“Son, what the hell is going on? Let me help.” Wayne’s heart pounds in his rib cage, hard enough to be felt in his stomach and heard in his ears.

Eddie’s eyes dart down to Wayne’s chest and back up, shaking his head rapidly. “It’s a long story, and it’s not over yet. But when it is, I promise I’ll tell you. You just– you can’t tell anyone about this or that you saw me. You’ll be in danger.”

“Does anyone else know?” He asks, but he knows the answer. Suddenly, Steve's reactions all make sense.

Eddie nods. “He wants to tell you too, but it’s not time yet. Just, please, listen to them. If they tell you to leave town, do it. If they tell you not to trust someone, don’t.”

“I’m just supposed to accept that you’re alive but not really, and trust the people who kept this a secret from me blindly?”

“Yes. I know how it sounds, but they’re your only allies right now. There’s a lot going on beneath Hawkins, Wayne. It might not be safe for much longer.”

Wayne swallows and takes another step towards Eddie, watching as he flinches and crinkles his nose. “The earthquakes, right? They weren’t just earthquakes, were they?”

Eddie sighs and lifts a hand to his nose, an old tell that he’s clearly brought into whatever new version of himself he’s become. “Just listen to them. Trust them. Please, Wayne.”

There’s a desperation to Eddie’s voice that makes Wayne ache. He steps closer and outstretches a hand, the same one he’d offered all of those years ago when Eddie arrived, scraggly and scared at the trailer. This time though, Eddie takes it.

His hands are still cold, and Wayne brings up his other hand to hold Eddie’s tightly between his shaking, calloused fingers.

His boy’s always just needed a little extra warmth.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #wayne munson #vampire eddie munson #eddie month #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #eddie month prompts

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