Glimpse Of Us

I think that what makes Steve and Eddie’s dynamic so immediately iconic and delightful, is that they have nothing in common except Dustin.

Like, we see them trying to bond a few times, and they are STRUGGLING because they have absolutely no common interest. Whenever they talk, we get gems like Eddie quoting the lord of the rings or mentioning Ozzy to a very confused Steve. They both think that the other is cool but they can’t SAY IT because they basically speak two different languages. It’s a nerd/goth and jock/prep desperately attempting communication, it’s awkwardly wholesome in the best way.

But THEN as soon as it’s about DUSTIN, these two just fucking click and shift full soulmates mode. Dustin does something a little weird or vaguely annoying, and suddenly Steve and Eddie get possessed by an old married couple that has been together for 35 years but also divorced 7 times and keep getting back together to raise their son. Dustin will just breathe, and suddenly Steve "the king" Harrington and Eddie "the freak" Munson are fucking drift compatible out nowhere like "this kid needs to keep his ego in check" "IT’S HIS TONE RIGHT???" or "Henderson you are a butthead" "oh I conclure" or even "Henderson is not possessed is he?" "Oh no he is just deranged"

Whether it’s platonic or romantic, otp or brotp, it’s just think that it’s objectively the most hilarious concept of all time and I want to see more of it in Volume 2 and season 5.

Together Forever

Paring: Tate Langdon X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, mentions of a corpse, yandere behaviors on Tate's part, angst, threats made against people ⚠️

"You died crying. I held you. You were safe. You died loved."

Tate held you while your shoulders shook from sobbing. You had just caught a glimpse of the body that laid in the basement; limbs contorted and bent out of shape. It's mouth gaping open and eyes rolled into the back of it's head; maggots and worms crawling in and out of it's ears. The sight was entirely gruesome and you felt the sudden urge to vomit. That couldn't be you. There's no way that was you. You couldn't have overdosed on those pills you only took a couple!

Suddenly Tate's arms felt heavy and intrusive. They felt as though they were holding you down to the spot, forcing you to look at the sight below. Yes, that was it. It was Tate's fault since he was the one who dragged you down here!

You pushed Tate off of you and made a run for the stairs. He stayed for just a moment before he went after you shouting your name. You ignored him and turned the corner from the kitchen to the foyer without so much as giving him a second look. You tried to make it to your room but saw that Tate was blocking your way.

"(Y/N). Please, baby. Talk to me." He slowly tried to approach you, his hand out towards you like you were some wild animal.

"Stay the hell away from me! You're a psycho!"

Tate felt his heart jerk in his chest. He was used to people calling him crazy but the last person he expected it from was you. Sweet and innocent you that held his hand when you walked around the beach. Sweet and innocent you that played with his hair while he slept on your chest. Sweet and innocent you that just called him a psycho.

"(Y/N). I know you love me. Stop acting like you don't."

"You're crazy! I should've listened to them! You fucking killed me!" You took some steps back, tears running down your face and your hand twitching at your side in panic. This was the worst anxiety attack you've ever had and the person who you usually found comfort with in times like these was currently your reason for having one. God, you should've listened when everyone said he was bad news. But you were blinded with love at the time.

"(Y/N). I would never kill you. I held you as you died. I told you how much I loved you in your last moments and I was the last thing you saw. You overdosed on those pills to stay here with me. I know you did. Why else would you do it? You're not suicidal." Tate started to get angrier with every passing minute. You weren't used to being the source of his anger and after only seeing him as quiet and reserved, needless to say, you were terrified. Terrified of what he was capable of. Terrified of what you knew he was capable of.

You had to think of something to crush him. Something to get him to leave you alone forever. You hated what he did to you. You hated the person he brought out in you. Why did things have to end up this way?

"You don't love me. If you loved me you wouldn't let me die."

Tate's eyes went dark. "What the fuck did you just say?" He yelled and the lights flickered on and off; the lampshades shook and the furniture moved away from where you two were standing. You had never seen this side of your boyfriend before.

"Stop acting like you care! Go away Tate! Go away!"

"You're all I want! You're all I have!" His hands clenched at his sides and his hair stuck to his face. He wasn't going down without a fight. You didn't want him to leave you! Why would you want him to leave you? No one has ever loved you like he has. No one would die for you like him. No one would kill for you like him.

You tried to run for your room again but Tate caught you in his arms and held you there despite your struggling. After a couple minutes of squirming around you fell limp into his side. There was no way of getting out of this. You were damned to this house now. Your parents would never be able to leave. You were stuck.

"Just give up now!" Tate pulled you in closer so he could stop your movements entirely and hold you to his chest. "Baby, please just give up."

You stopped and you let him embrace you. What was the point anyways? He would just find you again. He wouldn't let you leave now that you were with him. You belonged to him in his eyes and that wouldn't change; dead or alive.

"You were the one who took the pills, (Y/N). That was all you. But now we'll be together forever."

Another tear rolled down your cheek.

"The way it was always supposed to be, love."

The two of you sat on the floor in the middle of the room; one of you excited for the future and the other wishing they could die again.

me scrolling through the eddie munson x reader tag every morning like it’s a goddamn newspaper, knowing full well i’m about to spend the rest of the day reading every new fic that has been posted

seated for bullet train round five

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

watching him graduate<3

“edward munson.”

you and dustin were the only people who truly knew how important this moment was for eddie. you squeezed the henderson boy’s hand, and he squeezed yours, eyes matching as they prickled with tears.

you seen his goofy smile stick out amongst the crowd, his curly hair bouncing as he strutted like a rockstar across the stage, cap, gown and all. he had talked about it for so long, like it was a dream that would never come true. he’d even talked about it when he was dying, bleeding out in the upside down.

those images flashed in your mind, and you knew they were in the boy next to you. of course, you’d always wanted this moment to become a reality for him, but as you sat there, eyes blurry and mind replaying images of sorrow, you’d never been so proud of him.

HYUNJIN CALLIN FELIX STUPID KID LMAOOOO WHAT

FUCK YOUR LIFE'S PERCEPTION

TYLER DURDEN X READER

⚠️Warnings: swearing ⚠️

Just a short drabble. Tyler tells you he cares about you. That's about it.

Tyler's cigarette smoke rose up from the end of his cancer stick and drifted up towards the ceiling of the non-ventilated room. The green paint was peeling in tremendous amounts and the stains from water damage were evident. The smoke curled in cylindrical spirals and kissed the chipping paint almost as if inviting it to fall to the floorboards below; which conveniently, were also subject to the same damage from the water above.

You laid in silence next to him, watching the sights from above and playing with the hem of your shitty Goodwill shirt that had been unraveling due to hasty scissor cuts you'd made the night before upon realizing it was longer in length than you'd originally wanted it. You were both in desperate need of a shower and while not bathing might've fit the aesthetic of Paper Street, it did not go over well anywhere else.

Motioning towards his pocket, Tyler silently offers you one of the cigarettes he has. The container itself only held two of them while the rest of the semi empty box has a couple of bloodied tissues stuffed into it's crevices and a haiku from you which read:

"Tyler, that bitch boy, God I love that man to death, shut the fuck up please." You had given it to him for his birthday and was quite proud of it to say the least. He looked at it, laughed, and then stuffed it into the very same pocket he had just withdrawn it from. The smoke was fading now, trying desperately on a fight against the house to find an open window or a vent to no avail.

Taking a cigarette for yourself, you allow him to light it. The drag was long and slow and you felt your lungs fill up with what you presumed would eventually kill you.

"A lot on your mind?" The leather jacket-clad man asked with a twinge of a smile, growing fond of your company over the past few weeks. Ever since he'd offered his services to you at Lou's while you were working, you'd grown attached to him. The night you guys fucked and laid in bed afterwards talking about how soap was the yardstick of civilization and how there should be more methods of shaving for women, you knew you couldn't just be fuck buddies. Your emotions with Tyler ran deep.

"Yeah, something like that." You said, blowing the smoke out and watching it meet the rest of the clouded air above. It was soothing in a way. Almost as comforting as a hug if you liked them.

"Wanna go for a walk?" He asked, knowing that was your favorite past time when you had plaguing thoughts. Sighing at his perfectness, you agree by getting up from the magazines you had plopped yourself down on on the floor. Placing your hands behind your back, you lean back and crack it with a satisfied hum escaping your lips. Tyler joins you and picks up his red tinted glasses on preparation for the outside.

"How'd you know?" You ask, walking out towards the door leading to the kitchen and eventually to the mud puddle infested streets of the lower income street you resided on with your boyfriend.

"Know what? That you were angry?" He asked smugly, walking after you with that confident manly sort of walk that only pricks seem to have.

"Yeah." You said, shivering once your foot stepped out the door. The shit shirt (as you referred to it as) was only making matters worse considering how thin the material was.

Upon your sudden fixation with the cold, your boyfriend took off his leather jacket and placed it over your shoulders in an attempt at comforting you. It wasn't entirely warm, but it would do.

"I feel like life is just getting worse. Everything is a downward spiral and we're all just inevitably spiraling with it. There's nothing to live for. We're all consumed by the media that tells us to kill ourselves. Nothing is right." You eventually admitted to Tyler who was preparing another cigarette from his pocket. Grinning, it seemed as though he liked your response considering how he didn't have to pry the information out of you.

"You sure you don't just need a shower?" He asked, walking alongside you purposely going through all the puddles accompanying the sidewalk you were on. He was strange like that. You were sure there was a poetic meaning to it as there always seems to be, but you didn't feel like figuring it out in this moment.

"Well, that too. But I'm serious, Tyler. Everything is shitting on everything else."

"I agree with you. The world is chaotic and terrible and beyond redemption. Humans redeeming themselves? Forget about it."

"Exactly. It's just-"

"-but there are some good things."

You stopped in your tracks. Did Tyler just contradict his every statement? He's always rambling on about the terrors of the world the unfortunateness of the human condition. It's always the media that's cynical. Down with the patriarchy. Everything sucks. Why was he disagreeing with you now?

"What do you mean by good things?" You asked, genuinely curious by his change in demeanor.

"I say fuck your life's perception. You're entirely right about everything. The world is beyond saving. People are dying everyday and the rich get away with murder. We're slaves to the television. But- there are some things worth living for."

Curious, you give Tyler that look which reads "what are you going on about?" In an urge for him to continue. The puddles stopped the closer and closer you guys made it to town and his shoes eventually stopped making the rubbery squeaking noises of clothing material hitting water. Gravel replaced the mud and Tyler started to kick the stray rocks beneath his feet.

"Like what?" You ask.

"Like soap. Literature. Arson. Bagel Bites. You." He says, matter of fact as if he didn't have to think of the answer at all. He was such a a badass, seeing the world for the way it was; grimy and worthless. He taught life lessons to the space monkeys he kept in the basement of Paper Street. There was no special little snowflake attitude about him. He was solely the most interesting and intelligent human being. From the way he wore his clothes to the way he treated everyone else. The way he smoked and the way he preferred baths over showers. He was always the first to willingly touch the city subway railings not caring if he got sick. He blew shit up for fun. And now he was telling you that you were something good about his life, something that he valued so little.

"You- you mean it?"You ask, reaching for his hand now that the sidewalk was level.

"About what I said in regards to Bagel Bites?" He joked with a knowing smile. "Of course."

"No, asshole. About me."

"Oh," he pretended to think for a moment, "yes."

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

This is so cute!! There's something about fluffy loving Moon-jo that's just as admirable as his deranged killer state. I'm so whipped for him 🥹💖

💛🦐

Hi!! Can I request a suggestive Seo Moon Jo imagine? In which his girlfriend demands a massage from him(after a hectic day) and it leads to something else. Thanks!

Sure! This is my first request for SFH so I’ll see how I’ll do ❤

De-Stress | Seo Moonjo

{Strangers From Hell Masterlist}

Summary: You’ve had a bad day at work and wish for nothing more than a comforting night with your boyfriend Moonjo, but things take a turn

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff and suggestive themes

Word Count: 3.3k

*reader is female

The scowl painted on your face hadn’t left your features since you had left work at 9:00 pm. It felt like the cold night air was basically freezing it into your expression, as well as bringing the hairs on your arms to stand. The broken zipper on the back of your shirt also didn’t do much to help your already sour mood. You had managed to get it caught on the edge of a curtain and needed to rip it off before your manager noticed, breaking it in the process. Luckily though, your coworker found a spare pin in their desk draw for you to pin your shirt back with. It really wasn’t your best day.

You opened your eyes and saw the bland old ceiling of the train, chipping paint and rusting metal with the echoing voice of the intercom announcing the next stop practically deafening your half-asleep form. With the shake of your head, you decided perhaps napping on the train wasn’t the best idea, especially since it was very quiet and you were a woman travelling home by herself. No one else was around you, besides an elderly man who had rested himself further up the carriage.

A heavy sigh left your lungs and you ran a stressed hand through your hair, scratching your scalp and attempting to rid of the headache developing in your brain. The regret of telling your manager that you had not finished the work that was due today was setting in, as he decided to give you a good grilling about the importance of efficiency in the workplace and all that bullshit. Everything that man said went in one ear and out the other.

The vibration of your phone brought your attention from the train tunnel walls to your bag, causing you to dig around your belongings to find it. The screen lit up with your boyfriend’s name and a text underneath.

“Are you almost home? I bought ice cream for you.”

You smiled at his generosity. He seemed to always think of you where ever he went, never failing to bring something back home for you whenever he went out.

“Yeah. Had to sort something out and catch a later train but I’ll be home around 9:45.”

You pressed send and watched the typing bubbles pop up, becoming a simple “Ok. Don’t talk to anyone.”

Typing back a simple “Ok xxx”, you locked your phone screen and place it in your back pocket. The tiredness in your eyes stung as you rubbed at them, as well as the sharp pain in the top of your shoulders. Maybe lifting so much heavy stuff at work wasn’t the best idea. A few of your coworkers were away for the day, so you had to volunteer to carry the huge boxes of supplies all the way to the office from the delivery lot.

You weren’t too bothered though. Knowing you could go home to a boyfriend like Moonjo who’s willing to take care of you was always reassuring when you hadn’t had the best day.

Your eyes brightened when the name of your station displayed on the small screen near the sliding doors. You stood up from your seat and slung your bag over your shoulders before standing in front of the door, waiting for it to be opened.

When they finally did, you stepped over the small gap between the train and the station before immediately heading up the old stairs towards the ground level. You were eager to get home to Moonjo and just relax with him on the comfy couch and ask him how his day was at the dentist.

**********************

The streets seemed quieter than usual, with only the beep of a car horn and the meow of a stray cat every once in a while. It kept you on edge, holding your phone in your hand tightly and watching wear you stepped. You were almost at your and Moonjo’s apartment block anyway, so you weren’t too worried.

When you finally approached the large brick building, you quickly pushed yourself through the entrance and climbed the stairs to your floor, desperate to finally get some rest and quiet after your shitty day at work.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and clambered inside. Closing the door behind you, you removed the black boots from your feet, being happy to finally walk without pain in your heel. You added them to the growing pile of you and Moonjo’s shoes near the front door and continued walking inside.

“Moonjo!” you called out while placing your work bag on the small dining table. You waited a moment before the pair of footsteps neared the lounge area, making you chuckle slightly at his excitement at your return.

When you saw him round the corner from your shared room, his face expressed his usual sly smirk. He wore his black slacks and a long sleeve black shirt, midnight hair dishevelled. He sauntered towards you and held his long arms out, inviting you in for a loving hug.

“Hi honey,” he said in a sickly sweet tone as you launched yourself towards the tall man’s chest. He held you in a tight embrace, face tucked into the top of your head and pressing you into his torso further, trying to feel your warmth after being separated from you all day.

He pressed his lips against your hair in a small kiss while stroking his hands along your back slowly, earning a calming hum from your exhausted body.

“How was your day sweetheart?” he questioned, pulling away and cupping your face in his warm hands to make you look at him. Your tired eyes and flushed cheeks made his heart ache, giving him the urge to squish them.

You let out a rough sigh, pulling from his hands on your face and rubbing your own along your eyes in annoyance at the mention of the kind of day you had.

Moonjo ran a soft hand through the top of your hair and cupped your cheek once again, bringing his face that held a concerned expression closer to yours. “What’s wrong? Did something happen today?”

You shook your head in annoyance and dropped your head forward so your face was rested against his chest, making him chuckle at your childish behaviour. He weaved his slender fingers through your hair and scratched at your scalp to calm you.

“I had such a shitty day,” you mumbled out against the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t even really want to talk about it. It was just that awful.”

Moonjo sighed heavily and brought you back to face him by pushing on your shoulders. You glanced up at the restful man while pouting your lips in annoyance. He let out a slight giggle at your cute face, leaning down and placing his lips against your pouted ones in a long-awaited kiss. Your hands moved from your side to the back of his neck, linking them around and turning your head to deepen the kiss. But before you could go any further, Moonjo pulled away, causing you to complain.

He smiled at your whining and gave you a loving smooch on your forehead to make up for it. “Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?” he asked.

Your eyes lit up at his suggestion. “Yes please,” you smiled and leant forward to place a gentle kiss against the fabric of his shirt as a thank you. His heart swelled at the small action.

“But before you do,” you stopped him before he pulled away. “Tell me how your day was.”

Moonjo shook his head, causing his black locks to bounce. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to focus on you since you obviously had a bad day. I want to make it good again by taking care of you.”

With a quick peck to your nose, he slipped from your arms around his neck and removed himself from your shared embrace, moving towards the kitchen to start the kettle.

You followed him into the kitchen and watched him as he strolled about, being entertained just by watching him go about his usual habits. You admired his evening appearance. Hair ungroomed after a day of working in the dentist, his usual doe eyes darkened from tiredness and the comfy clothing hanging off his figure. The mere domestic sight of him brought butterflies to your stomach, and his veiny slim hands wiping the cloth over the bench in front of you to clean it didn’t help your growing neediness for them to be on you.

His face in front of yours caught your attention and he smirked at you being caught staring. “Like what you see?” he asked with a mischievous tone to his voice. You felt yourself become flushed as you nodded. “Maybe I do,” you smirked, looking away and trying to act like his closeness doesn’t affect you.

Even after years of dating, you and Moonjo seemed to always know how to make each other flustered over the smallest things.

“Oh wait!” he suddenly exclaimed while moving to the fridge. “I got you ice cream.”

You watched as he brought out a tub of your favourite flavour of ice cream that he seemed to get a bit too often for it to be healthy for the both of you.

“I’ll grab some for us to share after I make your tea.” Just as he said that the kettle dinged loudly signalling it had finished boiling.

“It’s fine, I’ll do it,” you reassured and moved to grab some bowls from the cupboard. Moonjo smiled and went back to pouring the water into a mug for you.

As you were trying to scoop the ice cream from the small tub, struggling due to how hard the top layer had become, Moonjo finished making your tea and stumbled over to you, wrapping his lanky arms around your torso and enveloping back with his chest.

He let out a slight chuckle in your ear and you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the feeling. “You need some help?” he whispered as he snuggled his face into the crook of your neck, giving the sensitive skin there a small playful nip with his teeth. You swore you almost jumped at the feeling. Why was he being so clingy tonight?

“No it’s fine,” you assured him, trying to continue your task with him basically glued to you. The small tired groans and whines he was letting out weren’t helping your situation as he continued to nuzzle his face into your skin, making your eyes widen and your heart beat faster.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled out as he breathed in your scent. “Have you been using a new body wash?”

You nodded, finally finishing scooping the dessert into the bowl. “I bought a new one the other day and I’ve been using it a lot.”

Moonjo nodded and pressed his lips against the skin just below your ear before resting his chin on the top of your head. “I’ve noticed.”

You let out a slight sigh at his affection and pushed your shoulders back against him to give him the message to move. He removed his hands from your body and gave you space as you made your way to the lounge room with your bowl of desserts in your hand.

You sat down on the couch and placed the bowls on the coffee table in front of you before grabbing a soft blanket from the pile at the end of the couch to cover yourself with.

Moonjo made his way over, face growing soft at the sight of you buried under the blankets and placed your tea in front of you. You thanked him and turned the tv on as he collapsed down next to you. He lifted your blanket to pull himself underneath too but he froze when he saw you were still wearing your work clothes.

“Baby, what are you doing? Get into some comfier clothes,” he said as he fiddled with the hem of your shirt, encouraging you to take it off. You rested your head against the back of the couch and let out a loud groan of annoyance. “I’m too tired to move again!” you whined while bringing the blanket over your face to hide.

Moonjo grinned fondly at your attitude as he shuffled closer to you under the blanket and pinched your sides, causing you to yelp in surprise and flinch away from his hands.

“You’re so cute,” he whispered, pulling the blanket off your face and squishing his nose into your cheek, making you gush as his compliment.

“Fine,” he said after a moment. You watched as he leant back from you and pulled on the back of his shirt to bring it over his head. The sight of his messy black hair and bare chest seemed so ethereal and gorgeous to you, despite the number of times you had seen it before.

You couldn’t help but stare at him, admiring his smooth skin and scars that littered his chest. Every feature on him seemed to bring nothing but more beauty in your eyes.

“Honey, you’re staring again,” he laughed as he threw his black shirt at you in embarrassment. You snapped from your daze and gave him a lazy smile. “You’re just so pretty,” you cooed, running a soft hand through his fluffy locks.

He smirked and gestured towards his shirt that he threw into your lap. “Take your work clothes off and put it on. It’ll be comfier.”

You sat up straight and removed your work shirt and pants whilst giving Moonjo the side-eye for glancing a bit too long at you.

“What?” he laughed when you called him out playfully for it. “Nothing I haven’t seen.” You smacked his shoulder at the suggestive remark, making him grin cheekily.

When you had discarded your work clothes on the carpet next to the couch and pulled Moonjo’s shirt that was way too big for you, you hoisted the blanket back over your bare legs and leant forward to grab your tea, taking a big sip.

“Good?” Moonjo questioned as he watched you drink it. You nodded and smiled at him before putting it back on the table.

Moonjo shuffled closer to you and encouraged you to lay your head against his shoulder by pulling your arm, which you accepted. He rested his head on top of yours and let out a huge yawn, turning towards the tv to watch whatever show was displaying. He kept a tight embrace on your waist and ran a soft hand up and down your arm, pinching the skin slightly.

After a few moments, the pain from earlier on the train began to work up again. Your shoulders began to ache and you groaned in pain, leaning off Moonjo and massaging the muscles of your right shoulder in your hand. Moonjo frowned at your action.

“You okay baby?” he asked in a worried tone, sitting up and placing his palm on your sore collarbones. You nodded. “It’s fine,” you reassured. “I just had to lift a lot of heavy stuff at work and I think I pulled a few muscles in my upper back.”

Moonjo continued to run his hands along the broad of your back, pressing on the skin through the fabric of his shirt. Just as he did, you thought of an idea.

“Baby,” you cooed out in a cute tone, hoping it will convince him further to do what you wanted. “Can you give me a shoulder massage?”

Moonjo’s eyes lit up at your suggestion, being happy that he’s able to take care of you. “Of course,” he said happily. “Sit in front of me so I can do it.”

You waited until he spread his legs further enough for you to fit between then made yourself comfortable, leaning forward slightly so he can easily rub his hands along your shoulder’s without difficulty.

As you watched the classic reality tv show displaying on the tv screen in front of you, Moonjo started to feel along the muscles of your shoulders before pressing his thumb into your skin roughly, causing you to let out a satisfied groan. He froze at the sound you made, but snapped out of it quickly and kept rubbing the tight muscles under your skin.

Simply just seeing how his shirt hung on your torso made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. For most of the day, he wasn’t able to get you out of his head. At the dentist, there were times he had to snap himself out of thinking of you in a daze.

It hadn’t even been that long since you had slept together. He didn’t want to come across as annoying or needy, especially after you had had a hard day. So he kept it to himself.

But with you sitting in his lap, nothing but underwear and his shirt on, he could feel himself giving away to his desires slightly.

He brought his hand from your shoulder to the hem of his shirt that snugged your skin perfectly and peeked his fingers underneath the fabric slightly, testing the waters. When you didn’t say anything, he kept going and continued to press his warm palm against your lower back. He brought his other hand down to follow the other.

When he heard you hum in content at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin, he leant himself forward and pressed his lips against the nape of your neck, breathing heavily on your skin and wrapping his arms around your middle under his shirt.

“Babe,” you breathed out, turning your head slightly to face him. Moonjo hummed in acknowledgement, keeping his face buried against your back and taking in the smell of your body wash.

“Are you okay?” you asked, turning your torso to look at Moonjo’s face. Only when you did, he chased your lips and brought you into a passionate kiss. He brought one of his hands from your back to your face, stroking his thumb along your cheek.

When you pulled away, Moonjo followed your lips, making you laugh. When he couldn’t reach them, he moved his mouth to your neck and continued to kiss and bite softly along your skin, making you shiver slightly.

“You’ve been needy this evening.” you teased, leaning your head against his lovingly. Moonjo pulled away from your neck and leaned his forehead against yours while smirking slightly. “I’ve just missed you,” he stated, giving you a quick peck on the lips.

You chuckled at his obvious lying. “I’m sure that’s just it,” you teased further.

Moonjo giggled and rubbed his nose against yours playfully. Continuing to rub his hands across your bare back, he tucked his face into your shoulder and groaned.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned, raising your eyebrows and eyeing him. Moonjo lifted his head and gave you a deadpan face, making you laugh at his obvious irritation.

“You know what’s wrong,” he stated as he pulled your back against his chest tighter.

“I thought you were tired,” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Moonjo sighed.

“I was, but you have to understand that having you sit on my lap in nothing but my shirt makes me wide awake somehow,” he reasoned in a mischievous voice, making you smack his chest slightly in embarrassment.

Moonjo then picked you up from his lap by your waist suddenly, making you yelp in surprise as he pushed you so you laid down on the couch, not taking even one second to be hovering over you. You looked up at him with a fond smile, bringing a hand up and tracing a large scar that travelled across his chest with a soft finger. He closed his eyes at the sensation and dropped his head so it was leaning against your collarbones and left a few kisses along your skin.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, slowly lifting the hem of his shirt from your body. You smiled at his compliment as you ran a hand through his jet-black hair, earning a soft sigh from him. “You too.”

Author’s Note: obviously Moonjo’s quite out of character since this doesn’t involve the whole Eden Studio situation, but in future fics I’ll make sure I’ll make him more true to the real character

DUNE

Paul Atreides:

Promise: (Part One) You've made a promise to the Harkonnens to end the Atreides bloodline once and for all, working on the inside to take them down. It really sucks that your sworn enemy is hot.

Promise: (Part Two)

(Romance/Slight Angst/Enemies to Lovers)

Promise: (Part Three)

(Romance/Slight Angst/ Enemies to Lovers)

Fight Club

Johnny X Y/N X Yuta Nakamoto

Just a piece of advice!!! This fanfiction probably won't make any sense unless you've seen the 1999 movie Fight Club written by David Fincher. This revolves around the storyline for said movie and previous knowledge of it needs to be present for it to make sense! In that case, read on! :) 💜💜

⚠️ Warnings: swearing, mentions of gore, mentions of nsfw, talk of weapons and violence as well as drugs⚠️

"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You are not your fucking Khakis. You are the all-singing all-dancing crap of the world."

...

Part Two:

Flashback:

Going on business trips was Yuta's least favorite part about his shitty existence. Having to travel from flight to flight for his business sucked, as he would say, ass.

So another plane ticket for him would mean another night of no sleep, zoning out while someone talked about a car line they needed to recall because of safety hazards, and then back onto his flight with people he had no interest in. That's the thing about self-serving "friends." They're just people who you have the displeasure of meeting because you're both going to the same place. After you're done trying to pass the time, you never see each other again and that's that. Well, Yuta thought of it that way.

Trying to get some sleep, he rested against the very uncomfortable plane seat and closed his eyes.

He didn't know when he passed out, just that it wasn't for long. The flight attendant had already gone through with the snack tray, he figured from the pretzels other people had on their laps that it wasn't too long ago. Sighing, he shuffled around his seat so he was in view of the window. However, someone was now sitting there fiddling with the window cover. He had longer black hair and red tinted glasses taking up most of his face. A cigarette was dangling between his teeth- unlit -and he had on a pair of very tight and very leather jeans. He also had an old pair of dress shoes with a hole in the top and scuff marks along the side. This man must've gotten dressed in the dark, Yuta decided.

"If you feel that you would be unable or unwilling to perform the duties on the safety card, please ask a flight attendant to reseat you."

The Elton John impersonator finally spoke to Yuta, a cocky grin on his face and glasses slowly sliding down his nose. In his hand was the manual for a plane crash which he must've taken out of the seat pocket in front of him. Yuta didn't think that anyone actually read those.

"That's a lot of responsibility."

"Wanna switch seats?"

"No, no I don't think I'm the man for that particular job."

What was with this guy? Yuta's first thought was drugs, but then he mentally slapped himself for thinking that. 'This guy's probably just as sane as I am', he thought.

The man sighed and looked around at the rest of the passengers before staring back out the window. "An exit door procedure thirty thousand feet. Mhm. The illusion of safety." He smiled again, except this time Yuta could feel himself glued to his chair, as if his movements would lead to the plane crash Red Glasses was talking about.

"Yeah, I guess so." Yuta let out with a sigh.

Just then the man said, "You know why they put oxygen masks on planes?"

'Oh joy', "So you can breathe."

Red Glasses sighed and rolled his eyes. It's clear that he's making Yuta out to be an idiot. "Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you're taking giant brain-panicked breaths. So you become euphoric, docile, you accept your fate. It's all right here." He grabs the pamphlet and opens to the page he was reading. Then, shoving it in Yuta's face, he continues his rant.

"Emergency water landing 600 mph. Blank faces, calm as Hindu cows."

The horribly computer generated pictures of people following safety protocol showed them all- as Red Glasses stated - unusually calm. At this, Yuta laughs. The man did have a point.

"That's uhm, that's an interesting theory."

After a pause in conversation, Yuta tries to talk to the man again as he realizes that this is the most interesting conversation he's had throughout his whole trip. He actually didn't expect someone with so much exuberance to be seated on his opposite side.

"What do you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you do for a living?"

The man's face turned into another one of those cocky smiles as he pushed a couple strands of hair away from his eyes.

"Why? So you can pretend like you're interested?"

Yuta laughed again, not sure how to respond. His textbook conversations that he had thought up earlier while sitting on his prized IKEA couch wasn't working. The conversations he saved for when he didn't know what to say. They were usually foolproof, but not with this guy. For once in his life, Yuta felt dumb.

"You have a kinda sick desperation in your laugh," The man stated as he reached for something from below the seat in front of him. Realizing what it was, Yuta exclaimed that they had the same briefcase. Odd stranger and similar taste. Interesting.

"Soap."

"Sorry?"

"I make and I sell soap." He opened the briefcase and saw the bars of soap Red Glasses was talking about. For the neat way they were packaged, Yuta could tell this guy was serious. Indeed, he made soap. They were a little deformed, but Yuta guessed the sold well. Their appearance was high quality.

"The art sticks of civilization." Yuta took the business card held out in front of him.

'And this is how I met....' "Johnny Seo."

"Did you know if you mixed equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make nepalm?" Johnny said, looking directly at Yuta now.

"No I did not know that, is that true?"

"That's right. One can make all kinds of explosives using simple household items."

"Really?"

"If one were so inclined." Johnny smirked again and shut the briefcase in his lap closed. The smell of the fruity soap washed over Yuta's nose as it did, and he started to understand why people bought them. There's a sense of familiarity to the smell, Yuta couldn't tell if it reminded him of old lady perfume or bacon.

"Johnny, you are by far the most interesting single-serving friend I have ever met. See, I have this thing that everyone on a plane is single-serving-"

"-Oh I get it. That's very clever." Johnny interrupted Yuta as he was about to explain his odd correlation with people and planes. Usually, the person Yuta talked to when he boarded was someone who was desperate to get him to shut up, so they let him talk about God knows what for however long he wanted. Not Johnny, though.

For lack of something better to say, Yuta replied with "Thank you."

"How's that working out for you?"

"What?"

"Being clever."

'Who is this guy?' "Great."

"Hmn. Keep it up then." Johnny patted Yuta's shoulder and smiled again. It was 100% a half smile and Yuta could tell that his small talk was boring Johnny to no end. His observations were proved true when Johnny readied to get up to leave his seat.

"Right-O. Now, a question of etiquette as I pass- do I give you the ass or the crotch?"

...

Yuta aggressively typed on his work computer while his thoughts mercilessly tugged at his brain. Y/N was mad again, Yuta could tell. It wasn't just about the dress thing, no it was also because of the sex. She'd been pestering him about it all week, trying to lure him upstairs. Yuta wasn't sure why she was trying to play with both him and Johnny but he knew that there was something wrong.

Fight Club was also very quickly taking over Yuta's life. He dressed sloppily to work every day, not even bothering to put on a tie or button up the rest of his shirt, with blood stains from a fight the night before. He was even smoking in the office, something he wasn't used to doing but now couldn't care less about.

Throughout all of the activities taking hold of him, Yuta couldn't sleep again. His insomnia was the worst he can remember it ever being. With that thought still on his mind, he grabbed his laptop bag and walked out of the office, on his way to Joon's once again.

...

"Alright boys. It's time for another fight. This week we have Yuta and one of the newcomers."

Johnny was getting used to his position as a spectator. He'd only fought a couple of times, but he seemed to get a pass from the other members because of the position of leader he'd taken over. His poise and demeanor had changed since Yuta's first encounter with him; that cocky, arrogant smirk still resided on his face but that was all that was left of the Johnny Yuta once knew. Or so he thought. He'd only known Johnny for a few months after all.

Yuta prepared himself for his next fight. He was angry. And his insomnia was getting worse by the second- he needed someone to take his aggression out on. Pain seemed to be the only cure to his sleep deprivation.

"Alright Yuta. You're up against Ten."

Yuta stared at the tall and muscular man at the other end of the "ring". He wasn't jacked but he definitely worked out. He was fit, covered in tattoos, and was littered with piercings along the sides of his ears. This man had so many pictures etched onto his skin that Yuta doubted he could even count them all. And, he was bleached blonde. Like- really bleached blonde. Draco Malfoy would've been jealous.

Yuta planted his feet firmly to the ground, watching the strange man named Ten do the same thing. This was his first night, so Yuta would be sure to make it memorable for him. At least, from the ground.

"How much do you bet?" Yuta heard from someone in the crowd. Since when was Fight Club about bets?

"I'll give you a twenty for tattoos."

That was all Yuta needed to hear before he was filled with rage. Johnny was in on this too? This was just supposed to be the two of them. Since when was it about an underground cult? Yuta felt sick to his stomach as he dealt the first blow.

And then another. And then another. And then another.

Why wasn't Ten fighting back? Well you see, Yuta had struck him completely by surprise, rendering him defeated from the minute his ass hit the cement ground of Joon's sacred basement. Ten couldn't even stand to try again before this kid was on top of him hitting him everywhere: the jaw, the nose, the eyes, even his motherfucking ear.

Yuta was ruthless.

For once, Fight Club was silent. The only thing that could be heard was Yuta's punches and the snapping of bones and moaning of Ten from beneath him as his body contorted into uncomfortable positions. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth and his beautiful face was now going to have an incredibly large scar across the side.

Amidst all of this commotion, Johnny lit a cigarette.

"Get him off."

Yuta was pulled away from Ten who was now knocked out cold.

"Why'd you beat up Ten that badly?" Johnny asked, looking directly at Yuta with an undecipherable look. He had a beer in one hand and hair frizzled everywhere. Over the past couple of months it had grown to an extraordinary length of an inch and a half. This meant flyaway strands everywhere. Yuta was mainly just looking for anything to focus on instead of his friend's face. The humiliation of what he had done to Ten's face was enough for him. Yuta held his wrist to his chest and assessed any leftover damage.

"I felt like destroying something beautiful."

...

The streetlights were dim as Johnny and Yuta ran through the dark. The sidewalk was uneven so they'd taken to the side of the road instead, making their way to the back of a large building with scuffed up shoes and bloodied noses. Yuta had no idea why he was here other than the fact that Johnny had dragged his ass out into the cold to "make soap" or whatever the fuck that meant. Yuta knew he'd figure it out though, Johnny always had a way with turning anything into a philosophical speech.

The chain-link fence was nearing Yuta's vision as he and Johnny ran on. The lights were brighter up there, and for a second Yuta wondered if they would get caught trying to break into the place. Johnny had said it was abandoned, but that obviously wasn't true seeing as he was shimmying his way over the fence after throwing his coat up over the barbed wire. He was making fast hurried movements and Yuta followed suit, grabbing the red leather jacket and hoisting it over his shoulder once he was on the other side. An alarm rang out and they both ducked for cover behind a large dumpster.

"I thought your dumbass said this place was abandoned?"

"It is at night. Usually."

"Who's out here?!?" They heard a policeman yell, the sound of a dog nearby made them stop in their tracks.

"Shit. Guess we'll have to wait him out." Johnny said between drawls of his cigarette.

"Wait him out?! It's 26 degrees outside are you crazy?!?"

At this, Johnny smiled. "Very."

The next twenty minutes were grueling as they waited for the guard to leave. Once security was taken care of, Johnny led Yuta to another dumpster on the other side of the building. Upon opening it, he climbed inside and started rumaging through it.

"Johnny, where are we?"

"Can't you fucking read?"

Yuta looked above Johnny's head to where he was pointing. There was a giant sign that proved they were in a medical facility. Liposuction.

At Yuta's realization, a bag of said material was thrown at him and he barely caught it in his arms before it fell to the ground. The red and flesh colored goop slid around in the bag reminding Yuta of throw up.

"Here, there's a few more."

Going back over the fence, Johnny threw Yuta more bags from the dumpster as he caught them from the other side. However, one of these were a failed attempt because the Yuta had found himself lost in thought. You, in particular.

He remembered how excited you were to show him the dress you'd bought. Your happy little giggles as you paraded around in it when you had found it made his heart swell.

Wait why does he remember that? Wasn't the first time he'd seen you wear it was in the kitchen?

"Hey shit face! The lard!"

Snapping back into reality, Yuta watched the bag catch on the barbed wire and split open, releasing a flood of human fat and blood all over his head.

"Aw fuck."

...

Yuta had taken a very thorough shower. He had been washing for hours it felt like, just to try and remove that god-awful smell from his hair and his clothes. Not that the water on Paper Street was very clean, but it was better than nothing.

Once he was finished he got dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It was already past 3:00am and he doubted he would be getting much sleep anyways, so he just got ready for work. Walking down the rickety stairs from his bedroom and into the kitchen, he was met with that horrible smell once again.

"Ugh, what is that?" Yuta asked, looking for Johnny to answer. He held his nose and made his way to the fridge where he was stopped by Johnny who brought out some of his experiment stuff.

"Ay watch it this shit burns." He said, going back to stirring whatever pot he had been fussing over previously. Johnny was wearing nothing but his pants from earlier, his shirt was lying on the other side of the counter and his jacket had been abandoned to the bedroom upstairs. Because of this, Yuta was able to see Johnny's exposed muscles as well as the scars from previous fights and other miscellaneous events in his life. Yuta couldn't help but stare. Johnny really was pretty.

"Okay." He motioned for Yuta to stand at the table that was covered with experiments and the lard from their previous adventure. Once Yuta was situated at the table with a confused expression dawning his face, Johnny smiled. This was one of those malicious ones that he put on before he fucked something up for Yuta again. Last time he'd given him this look, it was when he threw Yuta's work computer out the window of their dingy old house blabbering on about corporate businesses and the corruption of everyday society.

Johnny then grabbed Yuta's hand and kissed it.

"What is this?"

Johnny picked up a lenticular container from his left hand side and started to pour the powdery contents onto Yuta's hand.

"This," he said, "is chemical burn."

Yuta was confused as to why his wrist was being held down to the spot but then the chemical kicked in. Yuta's first reaction was to scream.

The pain was unbearable. It was the worst pain Yuta had ever felt and he was starting to wish he could die just to get it to stop. Anything to put out the flames on his hand, eating his flesh and leaving a crater in its wake. His breathing quickened as his body went into fight or flight mode, his hand shaking around in Johnny's grasp and his legs wobbling.

"It'll hurt more than you've ever been burned and it'll leave a scar." Johnny stated in a nonchalant tone.

'If guided meditation could work for cancer it could work for this.' Yuta thought as he closed his eyes and tried to envision a nice forest somewhere. His daydreaming, however, was cut short by Johnny's voice.

"Stay with the pain. Don't shut this out."

"No!" Yuta drew back from Johnny's hand and his head hit the shelf containing their unused pots and pans. He held his burning hand to his side as he waited for the pain to stop or even just dwindle a little. Yuta felt his adrenaline levels skyrocket as tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

Johnny took hold of Yuta's wrist with his burning hand once again and slammed it down on the table. Due to his thrashing, Yuta knocked a lot of Johnny's materials onto the ground of the kitchen, not caring about destroying anything and only thinking of the excruciating pain before his eyes.

"Look. At. Your. Hand! The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes, like the first monkey shot into space! Without pain, without sacrifice, we would have nothing!" Johnny stared at his friend dead in the eyes and tried to illicit a sense of fear into him.

Yuta screamed again as he tried not to think of the words sear or flesh. Nothing was working to try and calm the pins and needles attacking his body. He tried to break away from Johnny but to no avail. The man was prepared for this, it seemed.

"STOP IT. This is your burning hand! It's right here!" With that statement, Johnny slammed Yuta's hand against the counter again to try and focus his friend on his philosophical assignment. He was getting pissed now.

"I'm going to my cave. I'm going to go to my cave and I'm going to find my power animal!" Yuta exclaimed, trying to remember his sessions from support group and their ways of coping with difficult tasks. He remembered in a Leukemia group that someone had mentioned a "safe space" where you could form whatever it is your heart desires to try and make yourself feel safe in an unsafe situation. Yuta found his to be a cave with a penguin, however, that penguin has changed into his daydream of you.

"No!" Johny rolled his eyes and slammed his fist on the table to accentuate his point. "Don't deal with it the way those dead people do! Come on!"

"I get the point you're making please! Please make it stop!" Yuta managed to get out in between heavy breaths and the knot in his throat.

Johnny pursed his lips. "No! What you're feeling is premature enlightenment!"

Yuta imagined his cave once again in an effort to escape his reality. Instead of your calming face, he was met with the image of you naked while he was atop you, both of you within the icy confines of his arctic imagination. He coughed as he went in and out of his vision.

Johnny must've sensed what his friend was up to, because not seconds later Yuta was getting slapped across the face. "It's the greatest moment of your life, man! And you're off somewhere missing it!"

"No I am not!" Yuta screamed through gritted teeth.

"Shut up! Our fathers were our models for God. If our fathers bailed, then what does that tell you about God?!"

"No, no I don't-" Another forceful slap from Johnny resonated throughout the room.

"Listen to me!" Johnny threw his goggles off his head and onto the floor with the other cups of mysterious substances that Yuta had dropped.

Johnny got closer to his face to the point where if he leaned any further over the table, he'd be nose to nose with Yuta.

"You have to consider the possibility that God does not like you. He never wanted you. In all probability, he hates you. But, that's not the worst thing that can happen."

"It's not?!"

"We don't need him!" Johnny spat, and Yuta could tell that his pleading was getting him nowhere. For now, all he could do would be to endure the pain until Johnny felt sorry enough to tell him how to stop the burning. He had to know, right? He was the one who was working with the fucking chemical.

"We don't! We don't need him, I agree!!"

Johnny smiled at him from the other side of the table. "Fuck damnation man, fuck redemption! We are God's unwanted children?! Then so be it!"

Yuta flung his hand to the side with Johnny still attached, knocking over more things in their kitchen and watching as his supposed to be single-serving friend laughed through his pain.

"Listen! You can run water over your hand to make it worse, or you can- look at me! -or you can use vinegar to neutralize the burn."

Bingo. That was Yuta's ticket out of this hell. His eyes met Johnny's and he could feel his hatred for him bubbling up from his chest and into his eyes where he put everything he felt into his look. He wanted Johnny to know how he was feeling.

"There you go."

"Please let me have it! Please!"

"First, you have to give up. First you have to know, know, not fear, that one day you're going to die."

"You don't know how this feels!" Yuta screamed again in agony, watching the bubbling of his flesh on what was left of the top of his hand. Of course Johnny could sit all high and mighty on his side of the table, he had no idea how much Yuta was suffering. Was this some sort of sick joke?

Johnny's malicious smile returned once again as he raised his other hand from under the table and into Yuta's line of vision. There, on the spot Yuta felt the most pain at the moment, was a scar similar to that of a chemical burn on Johnny's hand. Ugly, big, and worn with pride.

"It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything."

Yuta's eyes met his as he started to calm down and his body adjusted to the fire on his right hand. "Okay." He said as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Johnny slowly removed the boy's hand from his grasp and watched as Yuta held his same position with his hand over the table. He was shaking, but he was determined to see this through now, knowing that it was one of Johnny's more difficult lessons. If he could get through Fight Club on the daily, he could get through this, easy. Even though the burn hurt more than any missing tooth or broken nose.

Johnny grabbed the giant jug off the counter behind him and flipped the cap off, throwing it's contents onto Yuta's hand and drenching him in vinegar. The pain instantly stopped and Yuta clutched his hand to his chest and fell to the floor, calming himself down after all of this. He looked up towards the table and saw Johnny staring down at him with that shit-eating grin of his.

"Congratulations. You're one step closer to hitting the bottom."

Amongst the spinning of the ceiling and the labored breathing, Yuta found beauty in the events of that night on Paper Street. They might not have made soap, but they made a man. And Yuta found out he was more capable of anything than ever before.

...

(Part three coming soon!)

[AN:] Thank you for reading! Please interact with your thoughts! This is somewhat new writing material for me and I would love to know if you liked it or not! Thank you! :)