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#( guess this means i'm lurking ? )
nostalgia-tblr · 5 months
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Hey do yous want to see my favourite bit from the first Thor film? It's this bit:
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What's going on here? Why would anyone be standing behind that big gold pillar for any reason other than to slink out from behind it? There's nothing there! Not even the sinister shadows that I suspect were supposed to be on that part of the set.
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Oh ho ho, here we go, here we goooooo!!!
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Oh yeah, I absolutely 100% trust whatever this lad's about to say. That's the least shifty approach I've ever seen in my life. He barely even skulked.
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Listen to him, Thor! I don't care what he's saying to you, it's definitely good advice whatever it is. See how he's leaning towards you in a completely un-conspiratorial manner, speaking quietly because he knows you're a sensitive type who gets nervous around loud noises. This is really good advice. You can tell because he looks so earnest.
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Oh and here come some witnesses! I mean your friends!
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You can safely ignore whatever he's saying now though, Thor. He's obviously got a bit intimidated by the success that lies ahead when you carry out this amazing plan that you've just come up with all by yourself after he suggested it.
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Oof, he's very against you doing that thing that you're about to do! He's sooooo disappointed with the way this is going. He's just said it's madness! In a loud, clear voice that should have carried across the room quite well.
I wonder if any of the witnesses overheard that part of the conversation?
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Aye. Aye, they did :)
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presiding · 7 months
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What is your favourite thing about Billie Lurk?
(Answers are obvious possibly but i love when people talk about her👍)
thanks for the ask!! YEAH ME TOO I love when people talk about Billie! I can't say I have a favourite thing specifically, but I can explain why she's my fav. apologies for not taking this qn literally, but -
short answer: she’s really cool
& you can stop reading there, or, for the maybe 2 mutuals who might have time to read this my thoughts on her as a character, her meta, and her character as raw potential...
long answer:
i considered making this entire thing a gush so you could read a gush about Billie. but, part of what draws me to her is that she’s not always well written, and in fandom she’s underrated for a literal protagonist.
since you ask...
billie is a cool character
when I played Dh2 (hadn't played Dh1), I was excited to see a black woman with disabilities who was captaining a massive ship by herself. wow.
then I discovered Billie’s backstory with Deirdre, the way she responded to that, then having to survive while living on the run, and her bisexuality. as well as her history with daud & delilah. fascinating!
she’s an outsider who has so much to lose, and knows what it's like to lose everything - having lost everything not once but three times - but nevertheless speaks truth to power. she's so brave! she went and helped Emily & Corvo and she must have known they might kill her! plus, she’s smart, she’s funny, she gets shit done, she’s gorgeous.
but... the meta
mild critique of fandom & arkane incoming.
skip this bit if you want - you've been warned twice now - jump to tired Hayao Miyazaki and read from there if you'd like my thoughts on writing her.
i thought Death of the Outsider was going to be amazing and then... well. *sad trombone* i've written about that before so i won't keep banging on. i figured others must be disappointed too, so I joined a few fandom spaces in hopes of finding camaraderie.
most people with complaints about DotO didn’t like how the Outsider and Daud were handled. which is valid & I agree. but it seemed like most paid no attention to Billie; when people talk about her it’s with respect to Daud, as opposed to in her own right. you could argue for fandom misogyny because people don’t talk about adult Emily Kaldwin that much either, but in Billie's case, it’s misogynoir (compare & contrast with the popularity of thomas, particularly the popularity of thomas portrayed as a white man for no particular reason that i've been able to discern - i keep asking around, is it in the books???).
i think this is a LOT better now than it used to be, which is fantastic. or perhaps i have found the correct echo-chamber? ha.
ultimately, The Fandom is a fraction of the entire picture, and not even the important bit since The Fandom is not who these games are made for. you can't make money relying on only your hardcore fans even if all of them spent a fortune on merch, this is true for any AAA game.
while it's true that Billie is underrated from a fandom perspective - but Billie as an underwritten protagonist is squarely Arkane’s fault.
it was reasonable when she was a side character - the lack of info in Dh2 makes perfect sense (if anything there was more lore in Dh2 which is kind of wild)-
- but as a protagonist in Death of the Outsider?
.... there’s lousy writing, and there’s whatever is going on with Billie Lurk, a black woman who mostly exists as a foil or saviour for light-skinned characters. In her own game there’s barely any of her own lore except where it's relevant to saving two dudes.
lore hints at, but barely touches on what race means in the Dh universe (xenophobia is stronger in Dh1; separate essay i guess), but Arkane has patted themselves on the back for portraying non-white characters, which feels like the same thing as the aesthetic of diversity we're seeing in advertising currently because it’s in marketing trend guides. it's self-congratulatory and it's a missed opportunity for deeper storytelling.
you can see an example of diversity at its most shallow in the way that Billie’s written: there’s little engagement with her as an entire person with history & wants & preferences, and the world she walks through in that game feels like it has nothing to do with her. you could make a case for alienation as a theme, but then, how do you handle the titular premise of 'Dishonored' without ever letting Billie make changes in an environment without a chaos system? it's disappointing from that angle too.
in my opinion, whatever it's worth, it was an accident Arkane created such an awesome character - they needed someone to betray daud. congrats billie.
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all this said, it makes her an underdog as far as characters to enjoy & create art & stories for. it's nice to find so many like-minded, switched on people! <3
billie's character potential
she’s got a wealth of unexplored lore, being deeply intertwined with both Karnaca & Dunwall’s fates & criminal underbellies, as well as her connections to the witches & whalers, and three Empresses.
she’s lived a few distinct lifetimes and in the games we get to meet her at two peaks (KoD & DotO) & a low (Dh2 as Meagan).
her voice is very distinct, her dry & often dark humour is entertaining & fun to write. her perspective is really interesting - she’s had the widest variety of void-powers of anyone canonically, and she’s also lived through the highest highs and lowest lows.
she's got everything going for her :) i couldn't really pick a fav thing!
#i assume my followers are cool enough to let me give a brief measured critique on fandom trends and DotO#thanks for the anon question!! what fun!#i love billie lurk <333#jumped on the opportunity to rant n rave#what part of billie isn't my fav! (im a guy who likes the bad stuff too. mmm interesting meta)#trying to be not unfair or mean- i'm not targeting anyone but rather trends. and it's ok to be disappointed with something you love#fuck it. make it part of the appeal! her writing sucks! plenty of room for me & other creators!#its easier for me to indulge my billie brainworms when it sorta feels like she's not getting as much love as she deserves#you know? i want stories where her history is explored and her agency is important so i guess i'll roll up my sleeves#tumblr is a terrible place for this sort of critique IMO- lots of nuanceless empathy-free guilt-trip-ish rhetoric#so i hope i avoided that. but not so much that i seem forgiving.#that said i'm not tagging this one with fandom tags! no thank you.#i am blaming arkane yes. but that is also not without games industry context#i could complain about amateurish writing but that also never happens in a vacuum. industry problem(s) for sure.#people love to blame writers for things#and yeah a couple really fucking good writers can push a boulder uphill#but its usually a company problem#hire lots of diverse people in your company. give them authority and respect and reasonable workloads. and no crunch.#ah fuck this is a separate essay in tags. again#THIS WAS A SIMPLE QUESTION#*clutches head in hands*#uh if you're still reading at this point im SO sorry and thank you and i love you
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grimgrinnr · 1 year
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I’ll be honest, today was a weird day. Don’t know to describe it, just weird and a little all over the place
Just gonna chill tonight, try and get normal
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where.... can i download heartstopper
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spadilled · 2 months
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i am. very tired and sad and still ill so i think i will not be here today like i wanted to be
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melchinafan · 1 year
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Hm...looking through my respective timelines, I think I wound down posting here around four years ago, ‘cause I’m more recognizable by my artblog name, @mel-addams. But I wanted to keep that primarily as an artblog, so...instead of shifting my icon/username for this account, I went bonkers on twitter? I suppose also because that feels like yelling into the void, rants quickly lost to the ether, never to be seen again (because endless scrolling instead of pagination is a blight). And I have a larger/more active group of folks there, but I suppose it’s still relatively small? I don’t really get the nightmare dashboard folks complain about. I only follow friends, and a tiny handful of celebrity/artist-types that specifically don’t post very frequently, so I don’t get overwhelmed. And I use tweetdeck, so everything’s chronological and I don’t get ads.
‘Course, I also don’t use tumblr right, either...I technically don’t even follow anyone besides my art account. I just have a tiny handful of folks bookmarked here, so I can do daily checks of their individual blogs (because they’re dressed up nice! why waste their effort of customizing their page by never looking at it?). So I’ve been in a weird lurking limbo, visiting every day but not really posting.
I dunno if/when I’ll start posing more frequently here, given *gestures at everything*.
But I am about to make a tumblr-specific joke about a Redfall trailer screenshot. (And then link it here for posterity, to avoid potential future archive-hunting to figure out what the heck I’m on about.)
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frogchiro · 7 months
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HII HII ur writing is perf 4 this idea but you don’t hav 2 do it !! i js thought of u <3 little red riding hood reader & big bad wolf (ko, ghost, price) any cod guy & i think it’s js soo cute !!!
[art by doujinpearl]
ARE YOU KIDDING ME THIS IS SO CUTE??? YOU NEVER MISS LOVE!!! And thank you it really means a lot to me that you like my silly writing <33
tw// horror elements and this has like one mention of a 'off-screen' death but no one major
I think I'm gonna go with König for this one?? Bc something about him just screams big bad wolf to me y'know? Also for the sake of this story, König is described like on the pics above, so his lower half is life a literal werewolf.
okay also i'm putting this under the cut because this somehow grew into a whole fic?? My dear @9irly9irl if you see this know that I love you and this was so. freaking. enjoyable to write??? I love this so much??? Also I'm sorry for the horror themes but I'm getting ready for October and the gloomy weather outside made me do this. I hope you still enjoy and PLEASE send me more for this au!!
Big bad wolf König who is on the prowl for some time now, he's on a hunt for you, the sweet girl who lives alone with her mother on the edge of the dark forest your good old momma always tells you to stay away from and for good reason. The townsfolk from the villages around whisper in fear and dread about a monster lurking in the woods, half man-half wolf with an insatiable taste for blood; they call the beast König, the undisputed King.
And honestly? König likes that rep. It means less annoying pests wandering around his territory safe for a groups of young guys from time to time who think they have the balls to try and 'kill the beast' but they are dealt with...pretty quickly.
But no, König has his glowing eyes set on something more...Exquisite. On something soft and pliable, sweet smelling and so so pretty. Namely on you. The werewolf guesses he has to be thanking his lucky starts or whatever bullshit that while sniffing around your cottage he overheard your mother talking about going out into the forest to bring her sickly mother, your grandma, a basket full of food and some other supplies and being the sweet little thing that you are, you of course cried and volunteered to go yourself, that your mother is already older and that you will make quick work of it.
König swears that day that his blood never rushed downward to his dick so fast. You, soft little you, all alone in his forest? His territory?? It's like you're begging to get taken and mated! The trek from your cottage to your grandma's home would take you about 2-3 days as she lives deep in the woods, the perfect timing for him to reveal himself and take you away for himself into his den in the darkest parts of the forest where you will have the perfect life with him! No more worrying about food or warmth during the cold, dreary winter months, he is more than a capable provider for his future mate, not to mention your future litter of happy yipping pups you will birth for him! It's a perfect plan!
And so he waits. And waits. And waits until the day you finally leave with your cute basket in tow and a tearful goodbye with your mommy dear that you will return as soon as possible. Yea, sure sweetheart.
I think he'd reveal himself by the time it's getting nighttime, when the sun sets, the air is getting cold and a ominous darkness sets over the forest where your trembling body sits in a makeshift nest made of a blanket and a thick animal pelt under a old, big tree. Everything seems so loud, the cries of nocturnal animals sound much more bleak and unnerving, not to mention the weird, chilling feeling of...something following you. Like there were a pair of eyes trained on you since a few weeks ago but you never mentioned this to your poor mother as you didn't want to worry her, but the feeling only amplified ever since you left your home and went on a trip to your grandmother.
You couldn't help the loud yelp you let out when suddenly a pair of glowing golden eyes appeared in the small clearing around the tree; a pair of glowing, unblinking orbs that seemed to be suspended in the air in the surrounding darkness, the weak fireplace you managed to make doing basically nothing to light up the area and your poor little heart started to beat like crazy when you noticed the eyes moving forward, closer and closer to you until the light finally caught what was moving towards you...or more like who.
It was an enormous man, easily over 7ft tall, his broad, bulky shoulders moving as he stood from the position he was in to his full height and those ominous glowing eyes still were unblinking as they stared at you like you were just some lamb and...you probably were.
The one thing that somehow stood out the most, even amidst literally everything else unnatural about this man, were a pair of ear on top of his head, which only now you noticed was covered in some sort of tattered old hood with holes for the eyes and ears, and a huge fluffy tail which was wagging faster anytime you seemed to look the man over, but what really brought it all together was his lower half...it-it was all fur. His legs were that of some bipedal wolf and in that moment a silent scream tried to make its way out of your throat; it was König, the brutal and unforgiving beast that resided in the surrounding forests, the one that people tell horror stories about around campfire and...he was here. He was here before you to tear you apart and leave nothing behind, not even bones.
Tears were streaming down your face, a look of utter defeat on it because after all, what more could you do? You can't possibly fight him, you can't outrun him, hiding is out of the picture too...You were ready to feel the unimaginable pain of those jaws locking themselves on your throat and draining you of your life but the you felt...warmth? A slick, warm feeling on your cheek and when you opened your eyes a bit you saw what it was. It was König, or more like his long tongue licking away at your cheek in an almost comforting matter, his wide unblinking eyes still trained on you though his pupils seemed to grow in size, now taking over most of the glowing yellow and when he deemed you to be clean of your tears, a large crooked nose with a scar running across it nudged into your cheek and took a deep sniff to get your scent. A stray thought ran through your mind when you took a closer look at his uncovered face and noticed another huge scar across his face and a few smaller ones, who or what in their right mind got close enough to inflict such wounds on someone like König?
When you stayed still and just stared at him wide eyed and out of breath König let out a deep growl like purr of content; he could hear your small aborted breaths still coming out quick and your heart fluttering in your chest like a small erratic bird but he could see that you were a tiny bit calmer now and not on the brink of hysterics like a few seconds before. He couldn't help but grin in delight, a nasty, wide thing that revealed rows of sharp teeth. He finally had you. He had you exactly where he wanted and now you were his. Well not completely yet, you two would need to mate first but still, everyone had to start somewhere right? For now he had you calmed down even for a bit, showed you that he wasn't a threat to you and wasn't going to hurt you. It was still only the night of the first day of your travels and he will offer to guide you, he couldn't possibly allow such a cute young lady to just wander around the deep dark forest all alone, right?
Of course he won't mention it that he will be herding you away from the path and instead guide you deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods where his den in. He won't mention it that he will be making very obvious and insistent advances at you, insisting on staying close at all times and wrapping his huge body around you at night for warmth, nosing and nudging at you to cover you in his scent and maybe make you a little bit hot under that deliciously low neckline of the dress that you're wearing, the cape in a lovely shade of red acting like a blanket to shield you away when König is nosing at your neck and bosom, greedy for all the tiny, shy, flustered noises you make, greedy for making you all hot and ready for him.
And of course he certainly won't mention to you about your poor old granny's corpse, rotting for weeks already in her old, decaying house where she died of some illness or old age. No, no, your new life is here, with him. Forever.
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equalseleventhirds · 1 year
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"I don't understand how I'm losing," Reigen said, his hands flying over his keyboard. It was so late now—too late, maybe—if only he'd used the same technique as with the Player Killer from the beginning, he might have stood a chance, but he hadn't seriously thought he'd lose—
"Shishou," Mob said, "why is this so important? You already have second place from Twitter."
Reigen laughed, not at all nervously, and splayed a hand across his forehead. "You don't understand, Mob. The publicity from something like this, even a rematch, would do wonders for Spirits and Such. This is about business."
(He would never admit to his pride being on the line.)
"And anyway, who is this guy? A radio host? I've been on TV, you know."
Mob carefully did not bring up what had actually happened when Reigen made his television debut.
Ritsu had no such qualms. "When they exposed you as a fraud? That was publicity too, right?"
"Hey—!"
Serizawa leaned over Reigen's shoulder to see the computer screen, careful not to spill the tea he placed on the desk. "Oh, Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale? It's been a while since I listened to that, maybe I should catch up."
Reigen stared at him. "You? What? Serizawa?"
"Ah... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Back when I was... well, when I didn't leave my room much, the podcast was popular. I guess it gave a sense of... community? Feeling less alone, even when you are." He shrugged. "Plus, hearing another gay man in a show like that was comforting."
"He's gay? Canonically?" Why can't I be gay canonically?
"Sure, he got married in episode 100. It was very emotional."
"I nearly died in our chapter 100—"
-- -- -- -- --
Well, listeners, there's still a few hours left on the poll, but I'm now leading at 56%! I must say, I did not expect this, especially after Twitter users so clearly forgot—or perhaps never knew—about my Tumblr Sexyman Origins.
But, that's neither here nor there. I certainly am grateful, if a bit bemused, about all of this, but let us not forget that this is all a friendly competition. Unlike the annual War On Christmas—and let us all take a moment to remember our fallen allies against that terrible holiday foe—this is a battle of kindness. Love, even. The love we feel for Tumblr, for our favorite sexy men, for pressing a button on a meaningless internet poll. The love we feel, listeners, for each other.
And in the spirit of that love and friendliness, I figured I'd get to know my opponent a little better! A bit of googling, which of course you know means searching via every search engine but Google, what with the Town Council imposing the Google Search Tax and getting all Night Vale IP addresses shadowbanned, has led me to... oh my, listeners. I do not know who made this, but Reigen Arataka has the single most beautiful professional web page I have ever encountered. It's... words do not do it justice. I am tearing up. This... I could not make anything better myself.
A-hem. Listeners, now that I've wiped away the tears such beauty inspired in me, I can now see that Reigen's website advertises his business, one Spirits and Such Consulting. Well! We may be rivals in this moment, but I am overjoyed to learn that Reigen runs such an innovative and important business! I am nearly ashamed that, while my opponent works to make the world a better place, I, a mere community radio host, am winning the sexyman contest.
Nevertheless, we must respect the polls. Not respecting polls could get us in hot water with the Town Council, or with the demigods of numbers who lurk in the sharp edges of percentages. So since I can't hand my victory over to him, I think I'll do what I can as a community radio host, and promote Reigen Arataka's important business!
So if you're a spirit in need of counseling, a ghost in need of therapy, or an eldritch beast in need of a shoulder to cry on, head on over to Seasoning City and pay our good friend Reigen a visit! I'm sure he'll be pleased as anything to see you.
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heartscfvalor · 2 years
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I’m going on a semi hiatus due to not feeling very wanted on here. If anyone wants to find me elsewhere, @fidelixcorde and @brothershardy are the way to go. I’ll also be working on my meme page
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unorthodoxx-page · 24 days
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A Tale of Spirits Status and Other Updates (Long Post)
I've gotten a lot of questions about A Tale of Spirits and its hiatus status over the past few days (months lol). I've been mulling over this post for a while now, avoiding it if I'm honest, but I've gotten to a point where even I can't avoid the writing on the wall.
So, let's start with what's holding me up. Over the last ten-eleven months, I've been dealing with a nerve issue in my wrists and hands (both, if you can believe it). Now it's nothing super serious (we haven't had any surgery talks, thank God), but it bothers me constantly throughout the day, and having an office job doesn't really help. It's crazy to go through some of these older Tumblr posts because my hands were bothering me even then, but I didn't want to admit it.
Long story short, I feel like I'm caught in this...loop of trying to heal. I'll have really good, consecutive days, and when I think I'm on the right track, something happens, and I'm pulled right back into it. It's frustrating, demoralizing, and terrifying all at once. I try not to spiral into worst-case scenarios with this whole thing, but my hands are numbing while I'm typing this. So....yeah, it's slowed my writing practically to a halt. I can bang out a couple hundred words here and there and focus on one-offs since they don't feel so...daunting, but chaptered anything mentally makes my hands twitch. My long sessions are gone at the moment and this leads me to that writing on the wall I mentioned earlier.
I don't know when A Tale of Spirit will return.
Man, that hurts to type. ATOS has been a part of my life for almost two years now. I've grown so much from this story, and my writing has evolved so much from this story. I have so much fun with ATOS. I mean, that's the point of fanfic, but I have fun with ATOS. I go back and reread parts, and I laminate past narrative choices as if those words are written in stone. I snicker while working out dialogue and really (and I mean really) let loose with action choices and experiment.
Hell, I have AUs of this AU on my drive lol. I owe a lot of my growth and confidence to ATOS. I mean, I read every comment and every Tumblr message (and I mean every comment). The support and love this story has received makes me believe that I'm not as terrible of a writer as I thought, that I might actually hack it in the literary world, so it's devastating that I can't put all my energy into this or my personal work.
To be honest, I'm still halfway in denial. I know I'm going to finish this story eventually. I love it too much, but I can finally admit that I'm not sure when that 'eventually' will be. Geez, I should've written this a while ago, but denial is a blinding thing.
I tackle writing when I can, but the nerve thing has thoroughly pulled me into a slump.
I'm going to update ATOS to say indefinite hiatus and put this same message on AO3.
I'm not saying goodbye to ATOS. I was deep in my unposted arcs before all of...this reached a peak even I couldn't ignore. I was really doing something with April, Zuko, and Suki (fun dynamic, by the way). Azula's been fun to play with, and angry, fed-up turtles have been a challenge in a half, so I want you guys to see that one day.
So, there it is. I know this is closure for some of you, and you all deserve to know what's going on with ATOS. I know this update will be a relief for some of you because now, there's no more guessing. The dreaded 'indefinite' has been typed and sealed in digital ink (dramatic, I know).
I'm going to leave it here because I don't know how to end this post. I'll be around, lurking in possible (short) one-shots and slowly chipping away at ATOS. So, until then, rest, rehabilitation, and copious amounts of books and music to listen to.
See you soon.
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slasherscream · 1 month
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Wash Day
pairing:  jordan li x fem black!reader
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"You wanna go out to dinner tonight? Know I've been busy this week. Feel like I've barely seen you." Jordan mutters against the shell of your ear. You shiver as he gives the skin a teasing kiss.
Already you're pouting, knowing what your answer has to be even though you wish so desperately that you could give a different response. "Wish I could, Jordan. But my night is already spoken for."
You're spun around by a hand on your hip, playful and fast so that you can't stop yourself from falling into his chest. Your hands grip his jacket for balance, and he reaches up to hold one of them with his own. "You got plans? With who? Cate? Cancel them."
"Brat." You laugh.
How demanding Jordan is would be less cute if they ever asked you to do something they themselves wouldn't. As it stands, with the way they do anything you ask at the drop of a hat, all you can do is roll your eyes and pretend to be exasperated instead of smitten.
"Fine, don't cancel. I'll just come with." Jordan sighs, as if seeing his best friend is a great tragedy (Which it is. Cate being there means you'll smack Jordan's hand away when he tries to sneak it up your skirt at dinner.)
"What if we want a girls' night?" You shoot back, grinning.
Jordan shifts. The hands on your waist are smaller now, but pull you in closer, "You're the one who's feeling bratty. Really have been neglecting you this week, huh baby?" Jordan smirks, in that condescending way she does when she realizes you're trying to get a certain reaction out of her.
"The plans aren't with Cate, and they aren't cancellable." You sigh, deciding not to rise to the bait of her tone, smirk, or the little circles she's rubbing into your skin.
"What are these oh so important plans?" Jordan asks.
"Do you know how many white boys have complimented my hair today, Jordan?" You ask.
"Pardon?" Jordan blinks at what seems to be a completely unrelated topic.
"Six! Six white boys complimented my braids today. I'm about to kill myself, if we're being honest. I must looked fucked up, and you didn't even say anything." You pout.
You've been having a bit of a rough day, to say the least.
"You look beautiful. What are you talking about?" Jordan asks, confused but nonetheless, wanting to make you feel better. "If you didn't look good I'd very politely... have Cate tell you. But you look great! You've been getting compliments all day, you just said it yourself!"
"Wow, you'd throw Cate under the bus, huh coward?"
"Cate isn't interested in making out with you every spare second of the day. I am. You can be mad at her. I've got stuff I wanna do." Jordan's grin is downright salacious. You smack her arm, trying not to smile.
"Ah. You are operating under the same delusions of the white man. I see that now, I'll let go of the anger." You say, sighing and kissing Jordan on the cheek.
"First of all, don't you ever fucking insult me like that again.... Second of all, what particular delusion am I sharing with the white man?" Jordan asks.
"White men only compliment a black woman's hairstyle at two points in time. When it's brand spanking, fresh off the lot new. Or when it's started to look like shit. I've had these braids in for longer than... is your business. So guess which compliment I'm getting right now?"
"I fucking refuse to say your hair looks like shit, and this conversation feels like a trap. You're always beautiful to me." Jordan says.
"Thank you, baby. But we live on a campus where the diversity win photographers lurk around every corner trying to get pictures of 'The Diversity Win Couple' in our most natural state. I need to take out my braids tonight before I talk crazy in the group chat, and Andre sends me a 'this you?' pic that will devastate my argument." You shake your head somberly, already imagining the fate that lies before you.
"You could stop talking crazy in the group chat." Jordan teases.
"You know damn well I'm not capable of that."
The two of you burst into laughter, unable to keep it together. Jordan has always been obsessed with how easy it is for you to make them laugh.
"Is that gonna take up your whole night, though, baby? We don't have to go to dinner early! We'll go wherever you want." Jordan insists, tone bordering on begging.
Whenever they come out of a particularly busy week, they spend the next two weeks glued to you. As if to make up for it. The clinginess is a stark difference from how they acted before you made things official.
"Jordan, look at the braids on my head."
"I'm looking at them."
"Are you seeing them with your eyes?"
"Yes, and my eyes are sending the image to my brain, which I assure you is working. What's your point here, baby?"
"How long do you think it will take me to undo these, detangle my hair, wash it, deep condition it, and then wash it again?"
Jordan squints at you for a long moment, analyzing your hairstyle and the utter displeasure on your face. "I dunno? Maybe... four hours?"
"I should fucking murder you. Just for that, you're helping me with wash day now."
Jordan's face breaks into a grin like sunlight breaking through clouds, "So I do get to spend the day with you, is what you're saying?"
"Yeah, baby, you get to spend the day with me." You click your tongue at them. Pitying them for the ache in their fingers they're about to feel. They complain about curling their God damn hair a couple of times a week. You suspect you'll be ready to kill one another by hour two.
But you also missed them a lot. Or whatever.
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"Don't cut too high up, Jordie. " You whine, shifting his grip lower on your braid, to an acceptable cutting length of the hair extension.
"Baby... can I ask you a very serious question right now?" Jordan hums, obediently cutting where you instructed.
"What?" You ask, already starting to unbraid the piece.
"How... long... do you think your hair is?" Jordan, to be fair to him, does ask the question quietly and with the proper amount of hesitation.
"How dare you! Are you calling me bald?" You gasp, stifling a laugh.
"Don't do this to me. You are prolonging the process. We can cut these braids at least four inches higher than what we're doing right now." Jordan says, you can't see his face but you can tell he's also trying not to laugh. Bastard.
"My hair grew!"
"From the top of your head. It did not magically lower itself further into the fucking braid extension." Jordan loses the battle and laughs.
"Jordan Li do not fucking cut off any of my hair or I'll cry and then blow up this school."
"Of course, princess." Jordan kisses the top of your head and gives in to your terrorist demands because you're cute.
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"So how am I supposed to do it, baby?" Jordan claps her hands and you smile at how eager she sounds to help.
"You're gonna want to section it off. Do like... eight parts of hair. That'll make literally every step after this easier. Then you're gonna comb the hair from the bottom, 'kay?"
"Got it."
Jordan starts the process of parting your hair, careful and slow. Fingers sectioning off eight chunks of hair that she keeps apart with the silky hair ties you hand her over your shoulder.
"You sure you don't want me to comb it, Jordie?" You ask Jordan.
"I'll be gentle, don't worry. You always say your shoulders hurt at the end of wash day. Which is crazy, because I've seen what you can bench. I've got you, baby." She spritzes extra detangler spray on each of the parts she just made.
You move around slightly, a little sore already from sitting still between her legs for so long, but smiling to yourself nonetheless. A pillow is suddenly shoved into your face and you lean away, confused.
"Sit on this one instead. It'll be better." Jordan says.
You switch out the pillows and tilt your head back to look at her. "Why're you always right? Is that your kink?"
"No, my kink is bossing you around." Jordan smirks and leans down to give you a kiss. Despite the awkward angle you can't help trying to deepen the contact. The feeling of her soft lips sliding against yours, firm but gentle, is always irresistible.
She hums and gives you a playful nip before pulling away. "Don't start something we can't finish."
"Who says we can't?" You shoot back, staring up at her.
"You will be pissed an hour from now if you glance at your phone and we haven't made any progress." Jordan runs her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing your head forward.
"Who says it will take an hour?"
"I do. If we start, I'm not stopping." Jordan's voice dips seductively and a line of tension runs up the length of your spine.
You smack her thigh for teasing you, "Shut up."
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"Is this comfortable?" Jordan frowns, staring at the angle your head has to be at to fit in the bowl of the sink.
"No, but this is the best angle this chair can get me to." You say. Usually you just wash in the shower, but since Jordan is helping the sink makes more sense.
Jordan stands, scowling at how uncomfortable you seem. Suddenly he grins, "Baby! Make a chair with your shields. Something that leans."
You were getting a lot better with being able to make complex shapes, with less concentration. You stand up from the chair you'd dragged from the common room. Jordan pulls it out of the way and gives you an encouraging thumbs up.
It takes you a minute, but you conjure a shield that resembles a salon chair and the both of you let out identical cries of delight.
Jordan pushes you to sit down with a kiss on your forehead. "That's my fucking girl. Tell me if the temperature is too hot."
Jordan washes your hair with the perfect amount of pressure and thoroughness. He's nearly rhythmic in his methodical cleaning. You didn't realize your eyes had fluttered closed until you hear him laugh. You open one eye to glare at him playfully, knowing he won't get soap in them.
"What's so funny?"
"You're like a cat. You gonna purr for me, baby?" He smirks.
"If you keep going like that, yeah. Or I'll fall asleep. Please don't make me fall asleep. I'll fall on my ass." You say.
"I'll endeavor to make the rest of the wash as unpleasant as possible."
He does not do that. And at one point you do fall asleep. Jordan catches you before you can actually fall. 'Thank God for Supe reflexes', you both think. You spend the rest of the wash with your eyes wide open and Jordan laughing at you.
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"Did we put too much?" Jordan asks, dabbing at another drip of oil and conditioner down your brow.
"No, this is typical. The hair has to be saturated. It's dripping because the oil is you know... getting hot and even more liquid-y." You say, eyeing the episode of Property Brother's you'd both decided on. "Hm. I think that woman should be put to death."
Jordan was keeping vigilant about dabbing at the sides of your face. You'd been in charge of one side, at first. But Jordan seemed to have a sixth sense for when the other side was dripping as well, and kept interrupting you before you could get to any trickles of oil. You'd given up and just started narrating the show for her as she wasn't taking her eyes off the line of your brow.
"Why? What did she do?" Jordan dabs again.
"She wants to put up a fence that blocks the view of the historical house that she did not have to buy if she wanted a fence so bad." You roll your eyes.
"Is the city gonna let her?"
"No."
"Haha. 500k down the drain." Jordan cackles.
"Anti-gentrification win!" You hold out your fist for a fist-bump and Jordan obediently obliges, oil soaked rag still held in her fist.
A comfortable silence falls over you two, besides the noise of the portable hair dryer.
"I really think we put too much, baby." Jordan mutters, dabbing again.
"I have been doing this since I was twelve, Jordan!"
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"Play the video again, one speed slower this time." Jordan's eyes are glued to your phone.
You're sitting between his legs again, cushioned by the (superior) pillow of his choosing. You were trying to decide on a simple hair style when Jordan saw a picture of Mini Twists and got excited to see you in them.
("You've already seen me in mini twists, Jordie. What are you talking about?"
"You weren't my girlfriend the last time you wore them though! Now you are, and I get to look at you as much as I want."
So that had decided that.)
"Okay, I think I got it. 'M gonna start with a braid base, without making the parts too big, then start twisting the hair with two strands, and that will make it last longer, right?"
"Right." You smile at how focused Jordan sounds.
They're hot when they're in the zone. You just didn't think they'd get so into helping you with your hair. But you should have known, really. Acts of service paired with their inner perfectionist? You're completely relaxed at this point. You know Jordan won't have you walking out of your room looking crazy, come hell or high water.
"Is this okay?" Jordan shows you a picture of the back of your head, three rows of twists done.
You gasp, snatching the phone, "That's my head?"
"Uh... yes?" Jordan answers slowly.
"The back of my head? The head on my body?"
"Should I start over?"
"Fuck you! These are almost better than mine. Who's hair are you playing around in when I'm not here, Jordan LI?"
"Stop using my fucking government name." Jordan tilts your head back to look at him with a gentle grip on your neck, grinning down at you. "You play too fucking much. You sure they're good, princess? It's okay if I need to redo them."
"I'm gonna give you orgasms that will make you lose brain cells."
"Baby!" Jordan laughs, rolling his eyes. "I'm serious. Do any of them need redoing?"
"The first row is really fucking good for a beginner but the second row is damn near perfect." You say.
"I'll redo the first row then." Jordan kisses your temple before moving you to face forward again.
"I said they were good!" You protest.
"But the second row is better. I want the whole thing to look good. Don't want you feeling self conscious cause I fucked up the style, y'know." Jordan mumbles.
You tilt your head back to look at him, ignoring him sucking his teeth (a habit he picked up from you) at you moving.
"I love you, Jordie. Thank you for helping me today." You coo.
You watch his face go red with a grin. He grins back, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. When he tries to pull away too soon you whine, holding him close by the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Wanna kiss you. You're sweet." You breathe the words against his lips, insistently continuing the caress.
He sighs, smitten, and let's you lead for a moment. Hand finding it's way back to your neck and tightening just enough to make you gasp. Still, he pulls away too quickly.
"I'm gonna fuck you up." You scowl at him.
"The only thing you're gonna fuck up is your neck, brat. This is a horrible angle for you." Jordan's smile is so soft at the edges it's your turn to blush.
"Speak for yourself."
"No, I'm too busy speaking on behalf of your neck."
"Well, I'm speaking on behalf of my-"
"Pussy?"
"I was going to say raging hormones but that's a lot more to the point, yeah. Or maybe I was going to say something romantic. You ever think of that, Jordie? Huh?"
"Were you going to say something romantic?" Jordan hums.
"No."
"Let me do your hair in peace." Jordan turns you forward again with a laugh.
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"Turn this way." Jordan instructs, snapping another picture.
"I don't know whether you're worse than an Instagram hair stylist or a Mom." You ponder, words barely audible because your girlfriend is scary.
"Shut up and smile." Jordan scowls.
As if engraved into your genetic code the words make you do just that. You suffer through another 20 pictures being taken before you say enough is enough.
Jordan happily shows you the pictures, as if you hadn't seen yourself in the mirror just a minute ago. Or ever. The grin on her face so wide it looks like it hurts.
"You like it, baby?" Jordan asks again.
"It looks so good, Jordie. It looks like I paid someone honestly."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." You drape your arms around her shoulders. "How's this angle?"
"For what?" Jordan tilts her head to the side, puzzled.
"For kissing. Since you were so worried about the angle before."
Jordan scoffs, but she's the one to pull you in. She doesn't pull away this time.
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A/N: i needed reader to have a goofball vibe because i have a goofball vibe. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anonymous ask saying you enjoyed it! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo
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hornedqueenofhell · 11 months
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A season 2 au where Steve and Dustin run into Eddie on their way to the junkyard. Turns out Eddie has known about the upside down since season 1.
"what the hell are you doing?" Asks a frantic and pissed off voice. It's not one Steve recognizes but he's quick to push Dustin behind him when he sees that this stranger has a shotgun.
"Woah woah hold on man we're not trespassing or anything!" He holds one hand out in a calm down gesture towards the other teen and uses the other to keep Dustin behind him.
"What is King Steve doing out here with a fucking kid and that much raw meat?" The curly haired boy isn't pointing the gun at them anymore but still looks distrustful.
"umm we were just... Uhh..." Steve trails off as he tries to come up with a good excuse. Then the stranger zeros in on Steve's nailbat.
"You've seen them too?"
"Them? Umm i-I I'm not sure what you're talking about." Steve can't meet the boy's gaze.
"You realize that the woods behind your fancy ass house run right across the main road over too the low income area right? Probably never even noticed." Oh this guy has no idea. At least not about that thing, the other though...
"You've seen the Demogorgon?" Dustin asks poking out from behind him.
"uhh no. Demogorgon's have two heads and look nothing like the flower faced man eater that's been lurking around out here.
"That's what the kids call it, they name everything after their stupid game." Steve sighs.
"How do you know about it?" The young man asks.
"Came out of a wall when I went to apologize to Nancy and Jon. It's what took Will Byers. How do you know about it?"
"The cops don't care when trailer trash calls raving about a monster in the woods. It picks a few of us off and that's just one less thing to worry about."
"That really sucks man, I mean it. I'm Steve but I guess you already knew that, this is Dustin." Dustin pokes his head out to wave.
"Eddie, Eddie Munson." The freak? Well this day just gets better and better.
"Well Eddie, unfortunately your shotgun won't do anything except piss them off but we could use some extra hands to help deal with Dustin's pet demodog that ate his cat and dug its way out of his storm cellar. We're setting up a trap at the junkyard if you want to join us."
After a moments consideration Eddie seems to come to a decision. "Yeah I'll help. How many people can say that they've been monster hunting with King Steve?"
"Cool, so you play d&d?" And there goes Dustin making a new friend for them. Honestly Steve is kinda interested in this one too.
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str4ngergirlw0rld · 1 month
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you loved and cared for eddie munson when you were 12 , now he hates you.
wc-2300 ish
pt 2 to bully eddie
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Hawkins High School was far from picturesque. In your humble opinion, you despised it. At the age of 12, you had high hopes for high school - thinking it would be your golden age, your stepping stone to greatness. However, from freshman year onwards, you were miserable. Eddie Munson, two years your senior, made sure of that. He flunked his senior year not once, but twice, leaving you as his target for six long years. Eddie, the dungeon master of the hellfire club, was no stranger to bullying himself, but he took pleasure in tormenting you, the shy girl at Hawkins High. It was a shame that not even Eddie Munson would befriend you - you must have been a terrible person to be around.
"Peppy, please just consider this," Nancy pleaded. "It's your senior year, and we only have two weeks left of school. That's 10 days, 10 whole days you can really cherish." Peppy was your nickname, given to you because of your love for Dr. Pepper. You always had a can in hand, and Nancy and Robin couldn't resist calling you that. Despite your reluctance, Nancy had a way of convincing you to do things. She was like literal sunshine, impossible to resist. "Let me think about it, Nance. I can't afford to be humiliated again. Last year was miserable." Of course, you would think about it. Nancy's infectious energy always made you want to join in. "Nancy, can you please come over after school? Bring Robs, and we can discuss this. If I do decide to go, we'll have lots of planning to do." "Of course, see you later, Peppy."
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"Rob's, guess what?!" you yell excitedly. "Please tell me you have amazing, awesome news like 'oh my god, the upside down caved in and disappeared,' that would heal me."
"Robin, no, shut up, someone's gonna hear you," you said, glancing around cautiously, hoping no one had heard what she said. Luckily, the halls were empty.
"What's the good news, Peppy?" Andy asked me to prom. Can you believe that? I mean, Robin, I am a freak. I'm a freak at heart. Eddie Munson won't even let me live it down. Robin, do you know how amazing this is?"
"Peppy, really? You're going with Andy? Like, Andy Andy?" Robin's mood matched yours.
"Yeah, Robbie, I'm so excited. I have my dress picked out and everything. It's pink with hints of red and red hearts embroidered on the sleeves," you explained.
"Oh my god, Peppy, that's so good! I'm so happy for you. This will be so, so, so fun. I can't wait. Make sure you let Nancy know. Oh my god, she's gonna be so happy we all get to go together. She's been begging and begging me to find a date," Robin told you.
"Okay, Rob, I'll see you after English. I'll give you a ride home. Love you."
"Love you too, Peppy."
Unbeknownst to you, Eddie Munson lurked around the corner, a scowl etched onto his face, his dark intentions hidden beneath a facade of resentment. He was determined to ensure you wouldn't have a good time at prom, hell-bent on sabotaging any joy you might find. For him, your happiness was an affront he couldn't tolerate, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure your night ended in misery.
"Heeey, Andy. I heard you're going to prom with Y/N," Eddie slyly interjected, his voice dripping with malice.
"Who?" Andy asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension brewing.
"Peppy... the freakazoid. Dude, you know who I'm talking about," Eddie replied, his tone laced with disdain.
"What's it to you, Munson? It's none of your business," Andy retorted, his confusion evident.
"No, it's not, but I'm just warning you to stay away. She's a weirdo," Eddie sneered, his words dripping with venom as he poisoned Andy's perception of you.
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Draped in a delicate shade of light pink, you sat in your living room, the soft glow of the evening sun casting a warm hue over everything. Your mom fussed over you, capturing every angle with her camera, her voice filled with pride as she complimented how beautiful you looked. It was a moment of rare confidence, happiness, and contentment that you hadn't experienced in a long time.
As the clock inched closer to 6 PM, the anticipation grew palpable. Andy, your prom date, was scheduled to pick you up at 8, and you couldn't help but nervously glance at the clock every few minutes. You had carefully chosen his pink tie with heart motifs, hoping he wouldn't be too embarrassed to wear it.
Meanwhile, Andy sat on his bed, staring blankly at the baggie of weed in his hand. Eddie's words echoed in his mind, poisoning his thoughts. "She's a freak, stay away from her unless you want to look like a freak too." The fear of being associated with you gnawed at him, and he made the cowardly decision to stay home, drowning his insecurities in drugs instead of facing you.
As the minutes ticked by and the clock struck 9 PM, doubt began to creep into your mind. Was Andy just running late, or was this all a cruel joke? You hesitantly dialed his number, your fingertips trembling with uncertainty. "Yello," Andy's voice crackled through the phone. "Hey Andy, it's me. I was just wondering when you're coming. You're still planning to come, right?" you asked, the hope evident in your voice. His response shattered your heart into a million pieces. "Yeah, no sorry. Munson got to me. You really are a freak," he muttered, his words like a knife through your heart. With tears welling up in your eyes, you hung up the phone, devastated by the realization that Eddie hates you , he hated you. silly you for thinking he’d let you have this one night to be happy.
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as you sat in your last class of the day, a sense of relief washed over you knowing you didn't have a date for prom. The thought of spending the night with friends instead of navigating the awkwardness of a date brought a sense of calm.
But as you squirmed in your seat, eager to leave, Eddie's bitter tone shattered your moment of peace. "Could you stop fucking moving like that? I'm trying to write," he snapped, his words cutting through your thoughts like a knife.
Feeling a pang of anxiety, you stammered out an apology, your voice wavering with uncertainty. "Sorry, I'm just feeling anxious. Do you want me to move?" you offered, hoping to diffuse the tension.
"fuck yes, you annoy me anyway," Eddie retorted, his hostility palpable. "It's making me sick having to sit next to you."
Feeling a surge of humiliation, you quickly gathered your things and made your way across the classroom, retreating to the back in a desperate attempt to escape Eddie's ire.
Meanwhile, Eddie's heart pounded in his chest as he watched you move away. Memories of his behavior flooded his mind, the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience. He hadn't spoken to you since he was 14.
But despite the remorse gnawing at him, Eddie couldn't bring himself to stop. His hatred for you, fueled by years of resentment and pain, consumed him. He needed to push you away, to make you feel the same hurt he had felt. It was a vicious cycle of pain and retribution, hes only protecting himself from getting hurt again. he wont let you hurt him again.
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gloomy days at Hawkins Middle School were oddly your favorite. The prospect of spending time indoors with Eddie, playing music together in the classroom, always fueled your happiness. You dashed eagerly to the music room, eager to retrieve your guitars and dive into another session of music-making with Eddie.
As you approached the closet where your instruments were stored, your eyes fell upon your beloved pink guitar, perfectly sized and customized for you. Next to it lay Eddie's red guitar, adorned with hateful words spray-painted across its surface: "freak," "loser," "trailer trash," "ugly." Anger surged within you at the sight of Eddie's defaced instrument.
In a moment of impulsive fury, you reached for Eddie's guitar, lifting it from its confines and slamming it onto the floor with all your strength, over and over again until it lay shattered into pieces. Eddie had just entered the room, tears streaming down his face as he witnessed the destruction of the one thing he cared for deeply.
Despite your attempts to explain, Eddie refused to listen. He turned his back on you, shutting you out completely. From that day forward, Eddie remained a distant figure, a silent specter haunting the halls of your memories. he never spoke to you again. opting to make your life miserable instead
Underneath your bed sat the replica of the guitar you had painstakingly saved up for, a reminder of your failed attempt to mend your friendship with Eddie. It was too big for him, collecting dust as it remained untouched. You couldn't bring yourself to throw it away or return it, holding onto the hope that one day Eddie would open his heart and listen to your side of the story.
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You were pretty sure you reeked of shitty spiked punch and pepperoni oil, a combination that only added to the cynicism creeping into your thoughts. Watching Robin dance with Vicky, the girl she'd been crushing on all year, should have filled you with happiness, but instead, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread as Eddie Munson sauntered up to them. Why was he even here? Didn't he have better things to do?
"Peppy, you look so down. Can we get you anything?" Nancy's caring voice broke through your reverie, her concern evident in her gaze. "You know, I'll ask Jon to go to the diner right now to get you a burger. You look miserable, babe." Her offer was sweet, but you couldn't bring yourself to accept it, not when you caught sight of Eddie flaunting his presence with a bright flask, momentarily blinding you with its shine.
"No, Nance, I'm good. Please, just have fun," you managed to reply, mustering a weak smile as she ran off with Jonathan when "Time After Time" started playing.
The grunts and groans behind you drew your attention, and you turned to see Eddie being bombarded by school security. Curiosity getting the better of you, you intervened, asking shyly, "What's going on here?" while avoiding Eddie's gaze.
"Mr. Munson here attempted to steal school property, miss," the security guard explained. Eddie rolled his eyes and dismissed you, but you couldn't ignore the pang in your chest at the mention of a guitar. Despite his protests, you watched as they escorted him away.
Feeling foolish yet determined, you knew you had to do something for him. Maybe this would finally make him leave you alone, or perhaps even apologize. Being in student council had its perks, including a set of keys with your name on them. In the darkness of the hallway, you located the guitar and grabbed it, hoping no one would see you as you made your way to the parking lot.
You approached Eddie with a heavy heart, a dusty guitar clutched in your trembling hands. "I know they kicked you out, and I'm assuming it's because of this, but I thought you'd want to play, you know? Before leaving and everything," you murmured softly, offering him the instrument.
"Whatever," Eddie replied curtly, his tone dripping with disdain. Your heart sank as you struggled to understand his animosity. "Why do you hate me so much? I've done nothing but be nice to you. I love your uncle, I loved you. You were my best friend, Eddie, and you started treating me like shit for no reason. Really, what is it?" Tears streamed down your face, smudging your makeup as you poured your heart out to him.
Eddie felt a pang of guilt tug at his heartstrings, a sudden urge to console you rising within him. He wanted to tell you that he was sorry, that he never hated you, that you looked beautiful even with tear-streaked cheeks. But his pride and guarded heart held him back. "You're a bitch, Y/N. You're a piece of shit, and you ruined the one good thing I loved, the one thing I had left of my mom. And you had no remorse when you did it. You did it with pride, and you looked at me like I was a monster. It's not my fault you deserved to be treated like shit, Y/N. Really, I fucking hate you. This whole fucking town hates you, and I understand because you ruined my life," he spat out bitterly, his anger palpable as his nostrils flared.
"I really don't know what I did. If I knew, I would apologize. I've only ever done things to protect you, Eddie," you sobbed, your heart breaking with every word.
"So breaking my shit is protecting me? Ruining my shit is protecting me, Y/N? That's an excuse, and it's a shitty one. You know I loved that guitar," Eddie yelled, his voice raw with emotion as he fought to contain his turmoil.
"I did it to protect you, Eddie. You never let me explain. They did it, Eddie. They spray-painted your guitar. They wrote mean things on it. So I got angry, and I broke it. I shattered it because I didn't want you to see that. They were so wrong, Eddie. They still are wrong. Even after you treated me like shit, I still want you to know that you are none of those things," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared at the ground, your chest heaving with sobs.
Eddie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his anger waning as he processed your words. Unable to resist any longer, he reached forward and pulled you into his arms, his own tears mingling with yours. "Shh, baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you did it just to spite me. Baby, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Please, I love you," he whispered brokenly, his bloodshot eyes pleading for forgiveness as you looked up at him, your heart heavy yet hopeful
I love you too, I really do, even after everything," you sighed into his shoulder, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Eddie gently grasped the back of your head, tilting it back so you could meet his gaze. He pressed his nose to yours, his forehead resting against yours, as his hand traced your jawline with tender care. With a lightness that belied the weight of your emotions, he placed the gentlest of pecks on your lips.
"I love you, baby. I'm sorry," Eddie murmured softly, his voice laced with sincerity.
"It's okay. I really love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with love and forgiveness as you melted into his embrace.
“lets go”
taglist
@ali-r3n @tlclick73 @m0llygunn @bimbobaggins69 @impmunson @mmunson86 @stveharringtn @kingstevesgf @skrzydlak
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k2ntoss · 2 months
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Hi, hi, hello <: first time sending an ask to anyone but I cant stop thinking of this rn and I feel like you'd appreciate the comedy of this. So like, this is definitely a more crackfic idea than anything, but I was just scrolling on amazon for Valentine's gift ideas and i found this, and the idea of gifting it to Jason?? peak comedy in my mind
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Imagine lighting it right before he goes on patrol just to mess with him a little too...👀 I just think it has so much potential for so many shenanigans, y'know? 😁😁
(I've been lurking around for a lil bit, gotta say I love your writing btw, it's great)
PRETTY LATE BUT I'M HERE, i tried to write something nice for a few days but i just couldn't squeeze my brain. NOW, i feel so honored to be your first ask, it's just so special so i really hope my little drabble is enough <3 and thank you so much for your sweet words baby
at first you wanted to get jason a nice edition of one of his favorite books, one of those expensive pretty books with a hard cover and write a lovely letter to him but scrolling and looking around some pages that candle popped up and you just couldn't resist it so there were now five items on your shopping cart, the book, the candle and stuff to wrap everything up. ready for valentine's day and getting him a pretty surprise in which you worked in every night as he went out on patrol until the day before valentine.
for those who think jason isn't that much of a valentine's day enjoyer let me tell you how wrong you are, jason enjoys picking up things for you because he knows it makes you feel special and even if it turns out into being more of a commercial holiday jason knows taking people for granted is not a good think, it's so easy to lose your loved ones and he's in no way letting you go one day without knowing how much you mean to him. so as soon as you wake up you're met by a big and warm hug, a chaste kiss on your lips and a pretty gift box on your lap; jason looks at you with a wide smile when you open the box just to find that sweater you saw on a store a few weeks ago, the one you wanted to get but couldn't buy because you were on a rush "jay... you didn't had to, this is just perfect" and it's simple but there's just so much in the fact that jason had in mind how much you liked that sweater and kept it in mind for days.
"i had to, anything for my baby..." he says softly and a sweet chuckle escapes his lips when you kiss him, arms wrapped around his neck before letting go of him to stand up. jason's eyes are fixed on you, your figure moving around as you pick a gift box from the closet just to walk back to the bed, going to sit on his lap before placing your gift on his hands and looking at his reaction as he opens it, the smile on jason's lips as his hands caress the book before he picks up the letter and seeing his green eyes tear up a bit is just so heartwarming you can't help but to cup his face with one of your hands.
"you know? you're the best thing that has ever happened to me" he says, a soft giggle slipping through jason's lips as he looks up to hide the small tears that are pooling on his lashline and it makes you nod "i think you've said it a few times before" and it makes you smile when he leans into your touch, nuzzling his face against your palm. suddenly, you remember there's still one more box you have for him and you stand up all of the sudden to go get it and he looks curiously at you when you turn around, holding the box and smiling widely.
"what do you have there?" jason asks, a small grin on his face as he sits straight on the bed before looking to the screen of his phone. it was almost time for him to go get ready for patrol, late in the evening he is just waiting to have a little more time with his lover. "it's a little surprise for both of us but by the look on your face i guess you have to start gearing up, right?" you ask before placing the small box on the edge of the bed "you can start, it's a small surprise so i can show you while you get ready" and the smile on your lips mixed with your soft tone makes him feel so lucky to have someone as patient and understanding as you by his side.
he nods happily, getting out of bed to start pacing around the room while leaving soft pecks on your cheeks and temples when he walks next to you, small playful kisses on your lips when he stands in front of you to start changing his clothes. jason is being specially sweet and playful today and it just fuels the need to use that little new gift, it's just something you can't help but think when jason is stripping in front of you just to get into his black compression shirt and the tactical pants that just make his body look even hotter. as he starts putting onto his armor you sit, legs crossed on the bed as your hands hold the box with a wide smile "so can i steal your attention a little now?" and jason turns his head around to look at you before nodding, going to stand in front of you.
your hands toy a little with the pretty bow to open the box, revealing the not so small candle and the label on it and jason's face is a mix between a poem and a stream of ideas of how it can end up "babe– how do you plan on using that?" he asks, a low laugh escapes his lips and it sounds like a growl because of the ideas popping on his head "well, i think the idea is pretty clear" the playful smirk on your lips is driving him crazy but he has to go on patrol "are you gonna wait for me to come back? i'll try to be extra quick" and his voice sounds so excited, because it's what was missed to make this valentine's day the perfect one.
"extra quick? i wouldn't want you to get in troubles, jay..." you start but you know damn well he is going to insist "no, i will be back before you even notice" he rushes before leaning in to kiss your lips in a firm and deep touch, hands on your hips to push your body a little into the matress and any idea of making him go with his full patrol vanishes when he bites your bottom lip and grunts a little into your mouth.
he pulls away, triumphant smile on his face before he walks out of the room to get his helmet and you rush to put the candle on the little night stand next to your bed before lithing it in the exact same moment jason sets a foot back on the room, stopping on his tracks as soon as the smell of vainilla hits his nose "sweetheart..." he starts but his first instinct is to pick his phone up to call dick.
if he was going to ask for a favour he was going to make it worth it, you lit the candle and he really couldn't think of anything else to do. probably the best gift for you both because it could help him expend more time with you.
"dick, c'mon! i'll do anything you want me to, i swear it's important" you can hear his voice and the urge on his tone as he speaks on the phone "it's not my fault i actually have a valentine's date!"
it makes you chuckle because it only lets you know how much he wanted to accomplish what you were asking him and to wait a little for him your eyes drift to the label just to find out the candle could be used in a few more ways than just start an encounter.
"it's a dinner date, okay? we made reservations!" jason sounds almost desperate at this point.
"jay! it's a body wax candle! can we try wax play?" you ask, not even noticing your voice could be heard through his phone.
"so dinner date, huh? i don't want the details, i'll cover you with bruce"
198 notes · View notes
yuna542 · 10 months
Text
[1]
>Bad Idea<
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Pairing: Hong Woojin x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers
Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Fem!reader, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, jealousy, ANGST, blood, sexual assault, violence, mentions of sex, alcohol
Word Count: 9.1k
Note: Here we go. Wanted to write an Oneshot. It escalated and it became a Story with 4 Parts. Hope you like it and you are also obsessed over the show! It’s amazing!
Summary: As Gunwoos 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?
"What do you want me to say?" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice steady.
"What you feel," he replied, anger reflected in his eyes as well. He hated that he felt that way. That you had done this to him.
"I can't stand you," you replied, and every word hurt like someone was pressing red-hot iron against your skin. Maybe if you denied it, the feeling would go away on its own.
He came even closer, sparkling at you with mesmerising eyes.
"You don't mean that."
"You don't know what i mean. It's okay. Just leave! If I never see your face again, I'll be happy," you shot back at him, something inside you breaking more with each word. "I wish i never-" but he interrupted you by grabbing your hand.
"Don't say something you don't mean. Don't you dare," he growled.
Chapter 1:
The Idiot
„Gunwoo! Come on! Hurry up!", you shouted through your apartment, leaning on the doorframe, ready to leave.
Now your brother had already talked you into coming to a boxing match that wasn't his own, and now he was making you wait. You heard the rumble in his room and he was probably gathering his things in a panic so that you wouldn't change your mind at the last minute.
Beside the hustle you heard his cell phone ringing behind the door and he answered in a rush:
"Yeah... Yes we're on our way... See you soon."
Then he finally opened the door and ran into the kitchen to plant a kiss on your mom's cheek.
"We're off, Mom."
The woman with the same kind eyes as you and your brother turned from the stove and raised her finger.
"Just watch your little sister for me!"
You sighed loudly as your brother gave you a doubtful look and eyed you. You raised your eyebrows, as you would probably always be the little girl to your mother.
"I'm sure she can do that very well on her own," he said with a gentle smile and you snorted in amusement. But you were grateful that he didn't put you down.
Even though you were way shorter and narrower than your brother, most people had more respect for you. Or they were quickly intimidated. Unlike your reserved, polite brother, you stood out because of your confidence and cheeky manner.
If you didn't have the same eyes and handsome face, nobody would have guessed that the quiet muscleman and the little hothead were siblings.
"Come on now! Otherwise we'll be late!"
Gunwoo shoved his cell phone into his pocket and you waved goodbye to your mother as you disappeared through the door. As you walked down the stairwell, you could see your brother smiling conspiratorially.
"I thought you weren't interested in the boxing match."
"I am interested in your boxing matches. You're making me watch your friend's, aren't you?" you retorted, skipping the last two flights of stairs as you had always done.
Originally, years ago Gunwoo had told you that there was a monster lurking under the last staircase that would grab your ankles and pull you down into the basement if you weren't careful. When you were six you just stuck your tongue out at your brother who was four years older than you and called him a fool, but even today you skipped over them out of habit.
As soon as you stepped out into the fresh air, you took a deep breath. It was a summery day and the birds were chirping. Sitting in a stuffy hall all day, enveloped in the smell of sweat and blood had not been your plan.
"I just want you to finally meet Woojin! He's my best friend and a great boxer."
"Mhh," you replied, remembering the day a few months ago when Gunwoo had come home late from a fight and told you that he had been out to dinner with his opponent all evening.
You used to be his best friend. You shared everything, were always together and you even helped him train for his dream. But since this Woojin showed up, your brother only hung out with him and therefore you had little interest in getting to know him. It would be an understatement to say that you already disliked him without even knowing him.
"This is going to be great. Woojin has been training for today for a long time. I'm sure he'll rock it. And I'm sure you guys will get along great. You guys are actually very similar."
"Oh yeah?" you asked suspiciously, and Gunwoo just smiled knowingly.
-
"Watch it! Idiot," you hissed as you picked yourself up off the ground and rubbed your aching neck. The idiot who had just knocked you over was staring at you with wide eyes, completely frozen.
He had run around the corner unannounced and hit you full on. Not only was he quite a bit taller than you, but he was also broadly built and his chest, against which you had crashed, felt exactly like a wall.
Slowly he seemed to come back to reality and ran a hand through his curly mane, allowing you to see his earrings.
"Man shit! I'm really sorry about that. I didn't see you..."
"What you don't say..."
The amazed man held out his hand to help you stand up, but you ignored it. Irritated, you stood up on your own and patted your skirt while the curly-head still held out his hand.
"I was in a hurry and I just overlooked you. You're so small and light... Shit you really flew really far", he said almost enthusiastically and you scrunched your nose indignantly.
"Well, open your eyes next time, douche bag!" you snapped at him and he stared at you in surprise. He hadn't expected such a sharp tongue from such a pretty girl.
Then, fortunately, you spotted your brother at the other end of the hall, looking out for you with two bottles of Coke in his hands.
The one with the curls was now eyeing you more closely, and he was speechless as soon as you looked at him out of those shimmering eyes.
"Are you watching the boxing match?" he asked, putting on a confident smile.
"No... I just hang out here a lot. It's all full of testosterone-fueled machos and the air is so nice and stale around here."
Now there was silence again and you could clearly see in his face how he was weighing whether it was sarcasm or the truth.
"Really?" asked the rascal now and you just shook your head with a snort.
"You're really not very smart, are you?"
Maybe you weren't particularly nice, but he was getting on your nerves big time, with his handsome face that was sure to drive any other girl out of her mind.
He leaned down toward you with his hands in his pockets and grinned mischievously.
"You're quite bitchy, dollface."
"Fuck you!" you hissed at his provocation and stormed past him.
"I knew it was a mistake to come here," you muttered as you passed, not giving the macho another glance.
Instead, you disappeared among the people and joined your brother, who had gotten you into this whole mess in the first place.
"Where have you been?" he asked, handing you the Coke he'd gotten you. You brushed a strand of hair out of your face and together you stood at the entrance for the bleachers.
"Some idiot knocked me over."
"Oh. Are you okay?"
You nodded with raised eyebrows and leaned against his muscular shoulder.
"Yes ‚Oh'... I‘m fine.“
You hadn't been a fan of the idea of coming along to a boxing match from the beginning, but you had been to every one of Gunwoos fights and he had begged you to come along to his friend's fight until you had said yes.
Well, he had also bribed you with pizza and sushi, but in the end you said yes anyway. He was a boxer himself, so you already knew a lot about the sport. Most guys who boxed at your age were pumped-up, arrogant machos who had nothing but their sport on their minds. That's exactly what the idiot had just proven to you one more time.
"Trust me this is going to be really good today!"
"Let's see. If I don't get squished first."
The first rounds were indeed exciting, and you had to admit that you were soon eagerly following the fight and cheering along. But when the next fighters were announced, you froze in your seat.
The next up-and-coming boxer was announced as Hong Woojin, and Gunwoo applauded beside you as he entered the ring. As soon as the realization hit you, you gasped out loud.
This couldn't be true. As soon as you recognized the curly-haired man, you laughed in disbelief.
"That's him! That's my friend Woojin. He's unbeatable in his class!" your brother began to tell you excitedly, and you could only watch the muscular young man prance across the ring, provoking his opponent even before the fight began.
"That's the guy who knocked me down!" you said then and the start of the fight sounded simultaneously with the incredulous „What?", of your brother.
You had to bite your tongue as you watched the fight. Sweat glistened all over his toned body and with every punch, every tense, his defined muscles looked even more delicious. Gunwoo had been right. He was damn good at boxing and after an exciting exchange of punches, he won with ease.
His movements were fast and precise. Like a bee that stung when you didn't expect it.
Together you waited for him outside the locker room and when he came through the door and discovered your brother, his eyes shone with pure joy.
They fell into each other's arms, laughing, and Gunwoo patted him congratulatory on the shoulders.
It was almost cute how they jumped around clutching each other tightly and were happy like dogs who were allowed to play together in the park.
When they were done with their greeting, you cleared your throat loudly so they finally paid attention to you.
"Oh. Yeah. That's my sister, by the way. Y/N. This is Woojin," Gunwoo eagerly introduced you. Woojin stared at you wide-eyed as he recognized you, and you just pressed your lips together into a line.
"Hey."
You raised your hand and waved shortly at him.
"It's you?" he asked, perplexed, and you rolled your eyes at his disgusted expression.
"Believe me, I imagined it differently too," you said, walking ahead.
Over the next few weeks, you got to know each other better and, more importantly, you hated each other. Woojin was annoying and a pain in the ass. When you went out to eat together, you argued most of the time until Gunwoo intervened.
He teased you incessantly and enjoyed it when you glared at him angrily. It was a gift of his that within no time he knew exactly how to make you mad.
Nevertheless, you often went out together and did things as a trio, because despite your quarrels, you had one essential thing in common. Your love for Gunwoo. You had to admit that Woojin was a great friend to him and they got the best out of each other.
As much as your brother wanted you two to get along, that was probably never going to happen.
It was a few weeks later and you came up to the roof to check on the boys and let them know that dinner was almost ready.
They were working out again.
At the sight of Woojins muscle-bound torso, you swallowed hard. They lifted weights and spurred each other on until they spotted you.
Woojins gaze traveled up and down your body, lingering for quite a while on your cleavage, set off by the new dress you had just put on.
"Hey your sister is here!" he said and your brother put the weight down to look at you.
You walked over to them, trying to ignore Woojins intense stares. Maybe you should have changed your clothes. He always made fun of you, when you were wearing something more revealing so he could unsettle you. It was only a matter of time till he would make fun of you.
"Mom says dinner is almost ready."
Gunwoo nodded and grabbed one of the towels hanging over the back of the chair next to you, wiping the sweat from his forehead and chest.
Inconspicuously, you kept glancing at Woojin as he took the water bottle, his muscles pumped and tense from the workout and his hair stuck to his forehead.
It was outrageous how good he looked.
He pointed to the other towel.
"Dollface be so kind and give me that!" he said with a grin. He had given you that nickname at the very beginning and you didn't know exactly why, but you got heart palpitations every time he called you that.
Annoyed, you took the towel and threw it harder than necessary into his face.
"You're welcome," you purred provocatively, crossing your arms.
"Is that dress new?" asked Geunwoo, looking less than enthusiastic.
"Yes. Don't you like it?" you asked, looking down at yourself. It was a burgundy dress that was tight and came down to your thighs.
"Yes it does, you look good. It's just a little short, isn't it?" he said, protective brother coming through once again.
Woojin ran the towel over his abs and came closer until he was standing in front of you, eyeing you closely.
"I think it's cute. How did you know red was my favorite color?" he teased and you just rolled your eyes.
"Don't get your hopes up Woojin. Even if you were the last person on this earth, I wouldn't let you touch me."
"Ouch and I thought you were wearing those sexy outfits just for me."
Playfully shocked, he grabbed his chest and you wanted to wipe that annoying grin off his face.
"You should go take a shower... You stink," you shot back and turned around to disappear back into the house. That was a lie. In fact, he always smelled so good that you automatically wanted to move closer when he sat next to you. Even when he was sweating, he smelled seductively tart and masculine, which didn't help you loathe him.
"Is she on her period or why is she so sensitive?" he asked extra loudly so you could still hear.
In response, you just raised your middle finger and slammed the door behind you.
Another time, you wanted to watch a movie, but the argument over the remote control got so out of hand that Gunwoo had to pull you apart by force.
Woojin ended up with big scratches across his chest and you were missing a tuft of hair.
Sighing, Gunwoo had come between you and you sulked at each other for a week until your brother persuaded Woojin to apologize to you.
Secretly, you were grateful that the argument was finally over, so you invited them both to the cinema.
When you got the tickets and Woojin saw that it was the movie he'd been talking about for weeks, he'd just looked at you completely dumbfounded.
"I thought you hated horror movies, I have the taste of a preschooler and this was just another cheap copy..." he had whispered to you in the movie theatre and quoted your exact words from a few days ago.
You had just shrugged your shoulders.
"Maybe I've changed my mind."
Then the curtain went up and he had no chance to question you further.
Actually, you still hated horror movies and you wouldn't like this one either. But this was your way of apologizing without losing your pride.
When Woojin held out his bucket of popcorn to you without comment, you smiled in the darkness and took a handful.
That's how it continued to go. You didn't become best friends, yet you were constantly seen together. It had also become normal to go not only to Gunwoo's fights, but also to Woojin's. Especially when Gunwoo didn't have time because he had to help mom at the café, you would go to the fights alone.
When Woojin's eyes wandered through the crowd and he met yours, the corners of his mouth would automatically twitch upwards, as if he knew you would be there.
Even if it was just to laugh at him after a defeat or to poke him in the side on the way home when he got painful bruises. There was absolutely no middle ground with you both, constantly at each other throats, ready to pounce.
-
Chapter 2
The Party
It was a Saturday night when you were getting ready for a party. Half the town was invited and it was going to be a big event.
You checked your appearance in the mirror one last time and pulled your hair into place. You had half of it up and the rest fell in shimmering waves over your shoulders.
The dress was perhaps a bit daring with the emphasised cleavage and it was tight around your waist.
It artfully brought out your every curve and with the high boots and red lipstick, the black minidress looked much more expensive than it had been.
Glancing at your phone, you ran out of the bathroom and bounced right into something big and hard. Cursing, you staggered back, but two strong hands were already at your waist holding you down.
"I hate it when you do that..." you grumbled, looking up at Woojin through your thick eyelashes.
He was about to say something mean, you could tell by the glint in his eyes, but it got stuck in his throat.
Your eyes shone like diamonds, rimmed with eyeliner, that made you look like an attentive cat, and as his gaze traveled down your body, his mouth stood open as if he couldn't believe what stood before him.
He knew you as his best friend's annoying little sister, usually in sweatpants and comfy clothes when he was around, but right now you were a goddess whose presence he couldn't escape.
"Hello? Woojin?? Earth to Idiot?" you asked, waving both hands in front of his face when he didn't respond and also didn't let go of your hips.
Slowly, that brought him back to the here and now, and he looked into your eyes, caught, as if you'd saw him stealing cookies.
"Uh yeah? What did you say?" he asked and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
What was wrong with him? You really had never seen him speechless before.
"I asked if you didn't have your own home?“
Gradually the teasing grin returned and he pinched your side lightly as his hands were still tightly closed around your waist. Your skin tingled strangely at the spot and even though your mind was literally screaming at you, you couldn't put any distance between you.
"What's the point when it's so much nicer at your place?"
You tilted your head a little and eyed him briefly. Surprised, you realized he wasn't dressed as casually as usual. He was wearing jeans, albeit ripped, and a dark red buttoned up shirt that sat tight against his biceps and chest. Slowly you realized what was going on here and you shook your head slightly.
Woojin just grinned wider as he saw the panic rise in your eyes.
"No. Oh no! No! GUNWOO!" you shouted almost hysterically and that's when he burst out of his bedroom door while still buttoning the last buttons of his blue shirt.
"What's the matter? What happened?" he asked, confused, looking back and forth between you.
Briefly, his gaze lingered on Woojins hands, which were still on your hips, whereupon he quickly took them away and clasped them in his neck.
"You're not coming to the same party! He just wants to embarrass me in front of my friends" you shouted, and Gunwoo put a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, but Woojin beat him to it:
"In fact, I've been invited, and Gunwoo is my companion."
Angrily, you glared at him and groaned in annoyance.
"You look gorgeous, by the way, dollface," he said, winking at you charmingly. You searched for sarcasm in his tone, but you didn't find it. Overwhelmed, you just stared at him and then walked away.
Your cheeks glowed and your hands cramped, forcing you to take a deep breath.
At the party, you immediately mingled with your friends and began to booze one drink after another. Bodies moved ungracefully around you, shimmying and shoving through to the living room or to the terrace at the back yard where people were throwing each other into the large pool. All these strange feelings were so confusing that you just wanted to drown them in alcohol. It was around midnight when you first saw your brother and Woojin again.
The older one was bringing a drink to a girl with long black hair and a pretty face. Next to her, Gunwoo was talking to her friend, and even though the alcohol was already clouding your vision, it was obvious that she was head over heels in love with the curly-haired boxer.
Directly something stung in your chest as he laughed at something she said and nudged her.
His hair shone like chocolate in the light and fell messily into his forehead. As the world spun around you and your friend's conversation slowly faded into the background, you stared at his hands for a while. The veins and pronounced knuckles had long fascinated you and you had rarely seen anything more attractive.
But when he put an arm around the girl, something similar to a growl crossed your lips.
You broke away from the circle with your friends without saying a word, and the plastic cup with the Coke-Vodka mixture in your hand crackled dangerously due to the way your fingers tightened around it.
You didn't know why or where this anger came from, but the alcohol prevented even a clear thought from breaking through the thick fog of rage.
As soon as you reached her, you changed your angle and stumbled into the girl with a really convincing startled "Oh". As you did so, you aimed accurately and the entire contents of your drink landed in the girl's face and on her light blue dress.
Shocked, she stumbled back a few steps and Woojin jumped to the side in time to avoid getting hit. With her mouth open, she wiped the burning alcohol from her eyes and you watched with satisfaction as the stain on her dress spread and her makeup ran as if a bucket of water had been poured on an oilpainting.
But from the outside you had a completely surprised expression on your face and held both hands in front of your mouth, to feign concern with your most convincing voice:
"Oh no! I'm so sorry about that! I shouldn't have drunk so much."
Stunned, the girl stared at you and you could see Woojin convulsively stifle a laugh at the angry expression on her face.
"Shit! What the hell!" she screeched at you, stomping like a little kid as she realized the extent of the disaster on her dress.
Gunwoo and the other girl watched silently, seeming to want to help but not daring to.
Woojin on the other hand, only looked at you. When your eyes met, he glared at you questioningly and he could have bet that the corners of your mouth twitched up in satisfaction for a moment.
Before you could fake a guilty conscience any further, she raced past you and disappeared somewhere in the direction of the bathroom.
Her friend ran right after her, and that's when Gunwoo turned to you and pulled you aside by the arm.
"What was that about?" he whispered as anyone around would care.
Of course he knew you did it on purpose. You couldn't hide anything from him. He knew you too well. Woojin crossed his arms and still said nothing. They both knew how much you could drink. You even drank Woojin under the table.
You just shrugged your shoulders unconcernedly and returned your brother's intense glare.
Yes, what was that all about? You had no answer to that. You were simply disturbed by the way the pretty girl looked at Woojin.
"It was an accident," you said unconvincingly, and now the amused smile came through after all.
"Don't bullshit me!" said Woojin and of course he had seen through your charade too.
But he couldn't even guess why you had done that. Maybe he thought you were crazier than he already supposed.
Astonished, he tried to read any answer from your facial features, but you were just as unreadable as usual. He never knew what was going on in your head and that made him curious.
You turned to him and leaned forward until your face hovered close to his.
"Oh. Did I mess up your one-night stand? I'm so sorry about that."
You smiled sweetly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Woojin opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, his gaze wandered aimlessly across your face.
Your noses were almost touching and the alcohol was messing up his mind. Your body in the dress was already hard to resist and he had been trying not to look in your direction all evening, even though he was almost addicted to the way you shifted your weight to the other foot, the way your curves endlessly flared under the thin fabric. If you weren’t so annoying…
Why had he never noticed how beautiful your nose was? How artistically your eyebrows were curved and how full your pink lips were?
Did they feel as soft as they looked?
"Now I guess you'll have to fill in for her. It would only be fair..." he murmured, narrowing his eyes.
You froze as his intense gaze drove heat into your cheeks. His eyes were fixed on your lips and you wanted to reply something provocative, but the amber around the black of his eyes shone so beautifully that you unconsciously bit your lower lip.
Of course, he was just teasing you, but something about his tone made you feel embarrassed.
Your fingers twitched and you fought the urge to brush the strand of hair from his forehead. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your stupid heart.
It was only seconds, but the moment seemed to captivate you for an eternity. The music and the people around you only seemed like background noise by now.
"No way would I sleep with you!" you finally replied, but why did the words feel so heavy on your tongue?
Like when you claimed, chattering your teeth in front of Gunwoo, that you weren't cold, even though he had told you a hundred times to bring a jacket.
He tilted his head a bit and just smiled in amusement until Gunwoo put a hand on his shoulder and called out to fight the loud music:
"I'm going home! Mom called. She needs help. Some pipe at the sink broke. Are you coming too?"
Woojin seemed snapped out of a trance, and you both looked in different directions so quickly, as if you could use it to undo the strange moment.
"Uh yeah. Yes I'll be right there."
Then your brother turned to you.
"Are you coming?"
Briefly you were tempted to agree, but your stupid heart only raced when you looked at Woojin. Whatever was wrong with you, you desperately needed to do something about it. It was disgusting.
"No. I'll stay for a while."
Gunwoo was going to protest, and he'd throw you over his shoulder if he had to, which is why you quickly disappeared between people until he lost sight of you.
Your head squeezed uncomfortably and you clutched your chest in which your heart just wouldn't calm down. Like a wild bird fluttering incessantly in its cage. You grabbed another cup and rushed out of the living room, the atmosphere suffocating you. You needed another drink, a cigarette, and some alone time.
Actually, you didn't smoke. You hated the taste and the smell of smoke. But Woojin hated it even more and that was reason enough to put the cigarette between your lips and take a deep push.
But on the second puff, you coughed in disgust and threw the cigarette into the trash can.
Confused, you ran into the bathroom on the second floor. There was less going on and in front of the large mirror you first took a deep breath and looked at your reflection.
Your cheeks were pink, but otherwise you looked like before.
Then why did it feel like the world had turned around you?
Woojin's eyes and that annoying grin just wouldn't leave your thoughts. Annoyed with yourself, you dabbed some water on your forehead and chest, perhaps to lessen the effect of the alcohol.
Because that had to be the reason. You had simply drunk too much.
After you were reasonably calm again, you mingled with the people. Your brother and Woojin were fortunately nowhere to be seen. They were probably long gone.
You found your friends again and the conversations distracted you a little from the chaos in your head.
"You look stunning," said a guy about your age as you stood at the bar getting another drink.
"Thanks," you smiled lightly and with a quick glance you had to admit, he was really good looking. He was tall, well built and had a striking face. You struck up a conversation and he was actually funny as well. Actually he seemed to be kind and smart. Also the complete opposite of Woojin.
"Do you want to dance?" he asked after a while.
"Sure."
He led you by the hand to the dance floor and you moved to the music, laughing and goofing around a bit. However, a strange feeling crawled up the back of your neck. Like someone was watching you.
You glanced over your shoulder a few times, but in the middle of the party, among the tightly dancing couples, drunken teenagers, and loud music, you couldn't make out anyone.
The alcohol quickly made the moments flow into each other and you lost track of time. You finally found yourself in a dark corner, the guy whose name you had already forgotten, had his hands firmly on your hips, pressed you against the wall and spread hungry kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes and really tried to concentrate on the moment.
It wasn't the first time you made out with someone at a party and this time he was even friendly, charming and good looking. You rarely got that lucky and it was a welcome distraction.
You just didn't want to think about Woojin anymore.
But as soon as his fingers ran over your sides and his lips brushed your skin, you imagined how the idiot would touch you.
Would he be gentle and cautious, or dominant and rough?
A gasp escaped you as the guy cupped your breast with a hand and somehow sounded suspiciously like Woojin in your head, and when you opened your eyes and stopped seeing the boxer's broad shoulders in front of you like moments before in your imagination, your heart stopped for a moment.
What had you just been thinking about?
Panicking, you pushed the guy away from you, who looked at you in confusion.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, and you just shook your head. The lump in your throat was getting bigger and bigger and you feared choking on it if you didn't get out of this place soon.
"What's wrong?" he continued to ask as you picked up your purse and pulled out your cell phone.
'I just imagined you were my brother's best friend, who I actually hate, and kind of liked the idea.'
Instead you said:
"Nothing. Everything's fine. But I really have to go home now," you assured him, patting him clumsily on the shoulder as a goodbye, not knowing what to do in such a situation.
He was completely flabbergasted and looked after you as you hurried down the stairs and left the party in a complete rush.
Only when you had passed the large estate a few streets behind you, you dared to breathe a sigh of relief. The fresh night-air blew your hair out of your face and it smelled like wet asphalt and leaves. The streetlight illuminated the side streets just enough so you could still read the street names on the signs.
While you were trying to call a cab on your cell phone, you realized what kind of neighborhood you had landed in. It looked like an industrial park and there was no one on the street. You started to feel uncomfortable and when you thought you heard footsteps behind you, you ran faster.
Cursing, you tried several cab companies, but none answered. The line was busy and the constant beeping seemed to mock you. You winced when the sound was behind you again. You definitely hadn't imagined it.
Your heart was already pounding in your ears and just as you tapped Gunwoo's number, your wrist was jerked back hard and the next thing you felt was a blow on your temple.
Then everything went black.
The next time you opened your eyes you were already being dragged into a dark alley. Your vision was blurry and your head throbbed painfully, but you could make out at least three black figures.
Only when your back hit a cold stone wall did your sanity seem to return.
"Well, what have we here?" you heard the tallest of them say. His raspy voice vibrated in your ears and when you recognized the three black-clad and masked men, fear ate so deeply into your chest that your eyes instantly filled with tears.
You wanted to scream for help, but before a sound could pass your lips, a hand was pressed over your mouth and you were slammed hard against the wall. Painfully you groaned and stared at your attacker with wide eyes.
"Such a pretty thing, out so late, all alone?" he asked, and there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.
The other hand was firmly on your hip and you thought you would faint from fear, but with your last willpower you stubbornly returned his gaze and tried not to let your despair show.
The other two thugs were standing menacingly behind him. One had a baseball bat in his hand, the other had brass knuckles on both fists. You felt like you were trapped in a bad movie and wanted nothing more than to just wake up. You could see your cell phone lying on the ground behind them. The screen still glowing and Gunwoo just one call away. It had to have fallen out of your hand when he hit you.
"Listen, if I take my hand away now, you're going to be nice and quiet and not cause any problems, otherwise I'm going to have to be rude, understand?"
He talked to you like you were a little kid and you pressed your hands against your thighs to keep them from shaking.
You nodded and your heart drummed so wildly you feared dying of a heart attack.
"Good girl..." he purred, slowly removing his hand from your mouth.
Instead of screaming, you clenched your teeth hard, jerked your knee up, and caught him right between the legs. Gunwoo had shown you often enough what to do when you were attacked.
Never by three armed men, though.
At that time you had only laughed and said:
"What could happen to me? I have you. You always protect me."
Everything happened so fast that you could hardly take a breath. Fortunately, you had hit it dead on.
Groaning in pain, he slumped forward and you lashed out, hitting him in the nose with your fist, just as you had seen many times with Woojin and Gunwoo in the ring. Taking advantage of the moment of chaos, you wriggled out of his grasp and ran towards the street, the adrenaline rushing in your ears.
Your breath caught in relief as you almost reached the main road, but you were thrown back hard by your hair. Screeching, you flailed around as rough grips closed around your stomach and yanked you all the way back again.
Desperately you tried to hit something, but most of your blows came to nothing, until you were thrown against the wall again and the anger-distorted face of the gorilla appeared in front of you. You felt something warm run down your temple and you instantly fell silent as his hand closed around your neck and squeezed until you were gasping desperately for air.
"Stupid bitch! Get her purse! Look how much she's got on her!" he ordered his minions, and they ripped the purse from your body.
They quickly found your wallet, took the money inside and threw the rest aside. The one with the baseball bat handed the leader the money and he pocketed it before looking back at you and you fervently hoped they would take the money and leave.
You tugged at his hand, but it remained iron-clad around your throat and you felt your field of vision getting smaller and smaller.
Blood soaked his mask and he had trouble speaking. At least you got him right.
"Shit, she's really tough..." he laughed and tore the mask off his face.
When you saw the cruel face, your heart sank and desperation slowly made your resistance collapse. His eyes wandered lustfully down your body and the grip on your neck loosened a little.
"She looks really hot... I guess we got really lucky today," he said and his minions laughed disgustingly.
"What do you think? We have a little fun and you make up for beating me, huh?" he purred, and the fear took on entirely different proportions.
The tears now flowed freely down your cheeks and you tugged harder on his hand, but he didn't move a millimeter. The other two walked a few steps away and turned their backs on you. Maybe to keep watch, maybe to ease their consciences.
With his other hand he grabbed your hip and pushed your legs apart with his knee. In your mind you prayed to whatever God there was to help you. You felt alone and completely helpless that you were about to give up.
Like in a trance, you only noticed how he tore the dress at your chest and pushed it up your legs. You squinted your eyes, your heart ached and fear gradually made you drift away as soon as you heard his belt buckle open.
"Hey you fucking asshole! Hands off her! Now!"
Your eyelids fluttered at the aggressive shout and before your tormentor could turn around, he was yanked away from you and a fist hit him in the jaw with such force that he staggered back.
As soon as you regained your breath, you gasped and slumped against the wall. Your legs no longer supported you and you could only watch, crouched on the floor, as Woojin stood in front of the gorilla and raised his fists.
"What's the matter? Have you lost your tongue?" he shouted at him and now the others also became attentive and rushed to help their boss. He seemed to notice them only now.
"Shit," he muttered and gave you a curt look. The tears in your eyes and the blood slowly running down your temple were enough to make his anger boil over and something animalistic entered his eyes.
You grabbed your aching throat and couldn't believe he was really here. But the relief was quickly overshadowed by new fear as you saw them circling him, baseball bat at the ready.
Woojin breathed calmly and fixated his attackers intently. As he did so, he gritted his teeth aggressively and his jaw muscles twitched with tension.
"You little bastard. Do you really think you can stand up to us?" the one with brass knuckles asked provocatively and Woojin just laughed bitterly.
"Let's try."
You knew the look from the ring, only this time it was aggressive and angry. There wasn't a glint left of the enthusiasm of sportsmanship flickering in his eyes.
There was only blackness and unbridled hatred there.
With that, the gorilla charged at him, but he dodged with ease. He also dodged the next blows and countered with a series of quick, precise punches, all of them hit forcefully. But already the one with the baseball bat swung out and missed him by a hair's breadth.
Woojin kicked him in the knee, punched the third in the face and fended off more blows from the goon. With a well-aimed kick, he managed to knock the gorilla off his feet, but a startled growl escaped him as the baseball bat hit him hard on the rib.
Woojin staggered back, gasping, took the guard up and cashed in a few more blows with the baseball bat until he found a gap and with a clean blow to the temple took out the attacker.
Quick as a flash, he grabbed the baseball bat and threw it at the goon, who was just getting back up at the same time as the other hit the ground.
With a rattling breath, you looked around for anything you could help with.
Woojin ducked away under a few more punches and seemed more tense. He was in pain and the blows with the baseball bat seemed to have hurt him. One precise blow with the brass knuckles would be enough to knock him out.
The gorilla huffed and grumbled like a bear as he tried to get back to his feet.
That's when you spotted a rope behind a trash can. You quickly grabbed it and crawled on all fours to the giant before he could get up and wrapped it around his neck from behind.
He gurgled for air as you pulled the rope tight and tried with all your might to fight his resistance.
You lay on your back and tugged at the rope with all your body weight until your arms trembled, but the gorilla just didn't weaken.
Like a worm, he writhed on the ground, gasping and trying to get rid of the rope. Glancing at Woojin, you winced violently as a blow hit him hard in the face. His head was thrown back and as soon as you saw the blood on his cheek, it flooded your body with renewed energy.
A tortured cry escaped you and you tugged harder on the rope and finally the resistance weakened.
"You stupid asshole! Go to sleep already!", you pressed out and felt the rope cutting into your palms.
Woojin slowly straightened up and fought against the dazed state with all his might. He lunged again, throwing punches so fast you couldn't even follow them.
Just when your muscles were burning so badly you were afraid you'd have to let go, the huge body went limp and you let go of the rope as if you'd been burned by it.
Woojin dodged away under a hard punch at that moment, knocking the thug off his feet and letting a shower of punches rain down on him until he lay motionless.
Getting on his feet again, he swayed briefly and shook out his wrists before rushing to you and kneeling in front of you.
You wrapped your arms around your exposed body and looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he took your face in his hands and said worriedly:
"Are you hurt? Are you okay?"
His voice rolled over with concern and you put a hand on his reassuringly.
"I'm fine. Thanks to you," you replied, still in a raspy voice. In the pale light of the lantern, you could see the blood running down his cheek and you felt guilty that he had caught so many bruises for you.
"You're bleeding. Those fucking assholes..." he cursed, his voice dripping with anger as he saw the blood on your temple. The concern in his eyes overwhelmed you. There was nothing else for him but you at the moment and as he scanned you for more injuries, he saw your torn dress.
He quickly slipped out of his jacket and put it around your shoulders. You pulled it tightly around your body and deeply sucked in his scent that clung to it and it made you immediately feel safe.
"Come on, let's get out of here. Can you walk?" he asked carefully, putting an arm around your stomach to help you to your feet.
"Yes I can do it," you dismissed it, trying to look strong, but in truth your head was throbbing, it hurt to swallow, and your knees were as soft as jello. Reaching the gorilla, he carefully let go of you and picked up your purse, cell phone and wallet that were scattered around him.
He handed them to you and you watched as he knelt down to him and slapped his face.
"Hello!" he shouted.
"Wake up, asshole!", and slapped him again until he grumbled and slowly regained consciousness. He groaned in pain and writhed on the ground, making a pathetic picture.
Then Woojin straightened up again and put a foot right to his throat so he couldn't move any further. Anyway, the guy's face was so swollen that you could barely make out any structure.
Then Woojin looked to you and asked:
"How much did he steal from you?"
After a moment's thought and a look in your pocket, you answered truthfully:
"About 200.000 won."
He patted it down and pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket where he had put your money earlier. Then he took out the bills, counted them out quietly, and handed you a wad of them while the gorilla watched, panting angrily.
"Then this is yours."
He took out the rest of the bills, which definitely were a total over 500.000 won. Apparently you weren't the first one they had robbed tonight.
Then Woojiin handed you the rest of the money as well.
"And this is for the unpleasant trouble he caused you, isn't it my friend?" he asked emphatically, pressing his foot on the gorilla's throat until he gurgled and nodded with a groan.
"Let's go," you muttered, glancing at the unconscious thugs. All of them were covered in blood. Woojin had really raged and from their injuries you could clearly see his anger like a handwriting. He quickly put an arm around you again to support you and together you walked out of the alley onto the street.
After a few shaky steps, he looked at you worried from the side:
"Are you sure you can walk?"
"Yes everything is fine. Stop worrying, it's annoying!" you drove at him a little too harshly than intended.
He raised his eyebrows and before you could react, he lifted you up bridal style and carried you across the street.
"What are you doing? Woojin what..." you stuttered, but he just smiled softly, which silenced you.
"Where are you taking me?" you asked after a while.
"I don't live far from here. I'll take you to my place."
He expected resistance, but his eyebrows furrowed in surprise when you gave in. You were too exhausted and going to his place really seemed like the best idea. Sighing, you relaxed in his arms for the first time and leaned your head against his chest.
His jacket warmed you and his strong arms made you feel safe and secure. He looked down at you as your eyes fell closed and smiled in relief.
At his front door, you opened your eyes again when he lowered you down. As he unlocked the door, he groaned in pain and held his side with a resigned laugh.
"Shit that guy hit me clean with that bat."
A shaky gasp escaped you. Seeing him hurt like that burdened you more than you thought it would and you wanted to take all the pain from him he was suffering because of you. You silently examined his profile and inevitably tears rose again when you saw the bleeding wound on his cheek.
"Woojin?" you murmured in a brittle voice and he looked at you concerned, afraid that something might be wrong with you. Astonished, he watched you step close to him and gently placing a hand against his cheek.
Your lower lip quivered dangerously and he wanted to say something to make the sad gleam in your eyes disappear. But when he said something, he usually made things worse and he didn't want to risk that right now, when you were so close to him. Your breath bounced against his face and his gaze was magically drawn to your lips.
"I'm so sorry," you breathed and your voice broke on the last word as you brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and a bruise was already forming underneath. The guilt was overwhelming and never would you have thought to care so much for the macho man.
Almost panicked, he shook his head and took your hands in his so you looked at him.
"No. Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong. It's all those assholes' fault!" he tried to cheer you up, but you just smiled tiredly.
Feverishly he considered and then grabbed his cheek, wincing slightly as it wound was already burning like hell.
"Oh that? That's nothing! I've gotten worse as a boxer!" he said, knocking his fist against his head.
"That's probably why I'm such a idiot, like you always say."
That actually made you smile and you even laughed slightly. He would have loved to jump in the air with relief, but his aching ribs wouldn't allow it. He squeezed your hands gently and then held the front door to the stairwell open for you.
"Come on. Let's go inside and get something good to eat."
Quickly you nodded and let him lead you to the door of his home. As he let you into his apartment and you looked around the room, you noticed that you had never been here before.
You were always at your place or out on the town.
"Do you live alone?" you asked as you kicked off your shoes and he turned on the lights.
The living room was tranquil and empty except for a small red sofa and a television. The kitchen was right next to it and the sink was stacked with pots, plates, silverware and even pizza boxes. Amused, you brushed a line through the dust at the large window through which the light from the street lamps shone.
"Yes. My father and I don't get along well... Tension flew regularly and so I thought it's better to keep my distance," he said, spreading his arms.
"Welcome to my kingdom. Had I known you were coming, I might have cleaned up," he said and you looked over your shoulder in disbelief.
"You wouldn't have."
He snorted in amusement and pulled the blinds closed.
"Yeah you're probably right."
He gathered up a few clothes that were all over the place and tossed them into a pile that only grew.
Despite the mess, which you wouldn't have expected any other way from Woojin, it smelled incredibly good. It was the scent that clung to him as well and was burned into your head.
Meanwhile, the blood on your temple had dried and began to itch.
Actually, you didn't want to know what you looked like. You probably bore more resemblance to a scarecrow.
"Where's your bathroom? I'd like to take a shower."
He was already standing in the kitchen, throwing a handful of ramen into a pot. At the mere sight of it, your stomach grumbled like crazy.
"Down the hall. The door on the left. Towels should be in the closet," he called as he worked, and you smiled as he threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder.
Before you left, you turned back to him.
"Woojin? Can you please not tell Gunwoo about today? He'll just worry unnecessarily."
Woojin pressed his lips together and looked pained.
"I don't like lying to him."
"I know. I'll tell him. I promise. Just not today okay?"
With that, he seemed satisfied and he nodded.
"All right."
In the bathroom, you slipped out of his jacket and carefully folded it. Your dress, however, was beyond saving. You put the torn rag aside and looked at your body in the mirror.
Dark spots were already forming on your hips and on your neck and you got goosebumps when you thought of the large hands that had grabbed you there. Your makeup was completely smeared and there was a wound on your temple from the first blow.
Sighing, you opened your hair and marveled at all the beauty products lined up outside the shower. He had more conditioner than you did. However, that was the last thing you would complain about.
But you made a little mental note when you needed something again to get on his nerves.
As soon as the warm water hit your skin, you sighed in relief. The blood dyed the ground brown and with the water you also tried to wash away the events of the evening.
Hissing, you looked at your wrist. It was swollen from the pumch you had thrown and your knuckles were cracked.
How did the boys always do it without hurting themselves?
Fresh again and with renewed energy, you stepped out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around your body.
"I feel like a new woman ," you commented as you walked into the kitchen, the smell of fresh ramen making your mouth water.
Woojin looked up from the two bowls he was preparing and when he saw your bare legs under the towel, he gulped first.
"I texted Gunwoo that you were drunk as fuck and now snoring on my couch."
That was still better than troubling him with the truth, which is why you nodded and ran your fingers through your hair.
"Thanks."
But you didn't seem to mind just standing in front of him in a towel. By being with Gunwoo all the time, he had often seen you in your pajamas, without makeup, or in sweatpants. It was almost as if he lived with you. Probably you had spent too much time together or you saw him as another brother. The thought tasted bitter in his mouth and he didn't know why.
„Do you have anything I can wear?" you broke the awkward silence, and that's when he finally stopped staring at your legs.
"Sure," he quickly replied and disappeared into the only other door next to the bathroom.
When he came back he handed you a pair of yellow sweatpants and a black shirt with blue flames on it.
Disgusted, you lifted the clothes up with only two fingers.
"You've got to be kidding me..." you commented, and he laughed throatily.
"I'm sure it looks great on you!" he grinned and you wanted to punch him.
"Your clothing style is really questionable sometimes," you muttered, and it was obvious that he had picked out the ugliest things to tease you.
Or maybe he really meant it?
-> [2]
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