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honeyhae-svt · 14 days ago

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(🧸ྀི)🖇 ༘ ⋆"My Brother's Bestfriend"

' ╰┈ 'who would've thought you'd end up in a tangled mess with your brother's bestfriend?'

' .☘︎ ݁˖' '원우 x f!reader

🎧ྀི 'ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Home (Seventeen) ♫⋆₊˚ ﾟ. 'ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre / tags: fluff, light angst, smut, established relationship, doting!boyfriend wonwoo, slightly possessive!wonwoo, light comedy, soft but intense makeout sessions, lap-sitting & straddling, emotional intimacy, domestic sweetness, wonwoo being obsessed with reader™, mild tension but nothing too serious, clingy!wonwoo (unintentionally), wonwoo official lipstick tester & lip plumper ੈ✩‧₊˚ warnings: NSFW WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT ! wonwoo being so whipped it's unfair, excessive cuteness & boyfriend material behavior, a little bit of yearning ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗ nsfw warnings: oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, overstimulation, semi-public sex, reader doesn't get pregnant, heavy & passionate makeout sessions, straddling wonwoo’s lap, deep kissing, light grinding, soft!but still kind of desperate!wonwoo, possessive whispers, needy touches, some lip biting, breathy moans, heated tension but still very loving ੈ✩‧₊˚ wc: 11,809 ੈ♡ a/n: i'm never going to shut up about wonwoo fics. i love this one and yeah, it's my favorite now. i don't even know if i want to end it, so i made a part two cause i love this way too much. if you don't like it, DON'T READ>>>don't steal my happiness.

It was a Friday—a perfect day to go outside, breathe in the fresh air, and maybe even touch some grass. But Wonwoo? He was planted in his chair, fingers flying over his keyboard, eyes locked on his screen as he dove deeper into his game. Sunlight streamed through his window, but he barely noticed. His entire focus was on his mission.

Then, of course, his phone rang.

The sudden vibration made him flinch, just in time for his in-game character to take a fatal hit. A sigh slipped past his lips, long and resigned, as the screen dimmed to black. Game over.

Annoyed, he reached for his phone without checking the caller ID. "What."

"Hey, Wonwoo!" Mingyu's voice rang through, far too cheerful for his liking. "You remember that money you owe me?"

Wonwoo leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "I paid you back."

"Yeah, like, half. You still owe me ₩103,000."

Wonwoo scowled. "What do you want, Mingyu?"

"I'll cancel the debt if you pick up my sister from her hagwon."

Wonwoo blinked. He could practically see Mingyu's smug face through the phone. "...Are you serious?"

"Dead serious. Think of it as a fair trade. You get out of debt, and I don't have to leave my photoshoot early. Win-win, right?"

Wonwoo exhaled sharply, glancing at the gaming laptop he had been saving up for. A hundred thousand won wasn't something he could just brush off. And really, what was so hard about picking someone up? He'd just drive there, wait, and drop her off. No big deal.

"Fine. Send me the details."

"Knew I could count on you!" Mingyu cackled before promptly hanging up.

Wonwoo stared at his phone, regretting everything.

Later that evening, Wonwoo pulled up in front of the hagwon (cram school), resting his arm on the window frame as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. The street was packed—students flooding out, parents calling names, engines revving. He ignored all of it, his attention on the notifications lighting up his screen.

A knock on the window pulled him out of his trance. He looked up.

There you were, bright-eyed and smiling. Mingyu's sister. You had the same features as him, Mingyu was handsome, there was no second guessing you'd be really pretty as well.

It really runs on the family huh, but your energy was a complete contrast. Where Mingyu was overbearing, you seemed naturally lighthearted.

Wonwoo unlocked the door, watching as you slipped inside. "Hey, thanks for picking me up! I could've taken the bus, but this is definitely an upgrade."

He put his phone down and shifted into drive. "Mingyu made me."

"Obviously." You laughed, buckling your seatbelt. "If it were up to you, you'd rather be home playing some game, right?"

Wonwoo glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road. "...Something like that."

You stretched out in the passenger seat, completely unfazed by his short responses. "Figures. My brother said you never leave your house unless it's life or death."

"He exaggerates. I go out when I need to."

"Mmm-hmm. Like now?"

"Like now."

You laughed again, shaking your head. "Unbelievable."

You both drove in silence for a bit, though it wasn't uncomfortable. You hummed softly to whatever song played on the radio, while Wonwoo kept his eyes on the road, appreciating the fact that you weren't forcing conversation.

Then, after a few minutes, you turned to him. "So, what's the real reason Mingyu couldn't pick me up?"

"I told you. Photoshoot."

You raised a brow. "And you believe that?"

Wonwoo hesitated, then shrugged. "Not really, but it's not my problem."

You grinned. "Smart man."

He smirked slightly but didn't comment.

When you pulled up in front of your house, you unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to him with an easygoing smile. "Thanks again, Wonwoo. I owe you one."

"No, you don't. Mingyu does."

You laughed. "True. But still, I appreciate it."

Wonwoo just gave a small nod. "It's fine."

As you stepped out of the car, you waved. "See you around!"

He didn't respond, but after you disappeared into the house, he lingered for a second longer than necessary before finally driving off.

Maybe the day hadn't been a total waste after all.

A couple of days later, Mingyu called Wonwoo again, but this time it wasn't for any money or favor. Instead, he was inviting him over to his apartment for a casual hangout.

"Yo, you coming? I'm having a few friends over tonight, including Joshua, Seungkwan, Vernon, and Minghao. It's nothing special, just wanted to hang out."

Wonwoo was about to decline—he had a ton of work to do—but then Mingyu dropped the one detail that made him reconsider.

"Oh, and my sister will be here too. She's staying with me for the weekend, so I figured you could catch up with her."

Wonwoo didn't immediately respond. It wasn't the idea of seeing Mingyu's sister that stopped him—it was more the fact that he wasn't entirely sure how to act around you yet. The two of you hadn't really had a chance to talk much after that brief car ride. He had no idea what you'd be like outside of that moment, and Mingyu always had a way of making everything a little awkward when it came to his little sister.

"...Fine," Wonwoo finally relented, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll stop by."

When Wonwoo arrived at Mingyu's apartment, the atmosphere was relaxed. Joshua was already lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone, and a few other friends were scattered around, chatting. Mingyu was in the kitchen, preparing snacks—probably to feed his giant appetite. The usual loud energy that always accompanied Mingyu's presence was alive in the air.

But there was no sign of you.

Wonwoo made his way to the living room, greeting Joshua with a nod, but the silence between them was noticeable. Joshua shot him a playful glance, but before they could talk much more, Mingyu called out from the kitchen.

"Yo, Wonwoo! Help me with these drinks!"

Wonwoo reluctantly walked into the kitchen, but as soon as he stepped through the doorway, he froze.

There, standing at the counter, was you—completely at ease, casually chopping vegetables as if you'd been there the whole time. You looked up at him, your eyes lighting up in surprise.

"Oh, you're here!" you exclaimed with a smile, your hands still busy at the cutting board. "I didn't think you'd be the first one to show up."

Wonwoo blinked, a bit caught off guard. He hadn't expected to see you in the kitchen, especially not so comfortable.

"You're... here?" he said, unsure of how to react. "I thought you were... uh, I don't know... staying in your room or something."

You let out a small laugh, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "I was, but then Mingyu didn't have enough snacks. He asked me to help out." You gestured to the plates you had already prepped, your movements smooth and confident, as though you'd done this a thousand times. "I figured you'd all be hungry."

Wonwoo was honestly impressed. The last time he saw you, you were cheerful and talkative, but he didn't expect this... domestic side of you. He felt a little out of place in the kitchen, but he didn't want to act awkward.

"I'm sure Mingyu can handle it," he replied, trying to mask his surprise with a nonchalant tone.

You smirked, clearly catching onto his tone. "Yeah, but I'm sure he'll make a mess of it. You know how he is." You shook your head, looking back at your brother as Mingyu popped his head around the corner, grinning.

"I heard that!" Mingyu called, sticking his tongue out before retreating back to the living room.

You chuckled at his antics before focusing back on the food you were preparing. "Anyway, I'm glad you made it. I figured we'd finally have some time to talk," you said, your voice light and welcoming, making it clear you weren't bothered by the sudden interruption.

Wonwoo nodded, still trying to shake off the initial surprise. "Yeah, I guess we never really got to chat much." He leaned against the kitchen counter, unsure of where to go from there.

"You're a bit of a man of few words, huh?" you asked with a teasing grin, raising an eyebrow as you slid the plate of veggies aside. "Mingyu always talks about how you're so quiet, but I didn't realize it was this bad."

Wonwoo gave you a half-smile, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I don't talk much unless I have to," he said, his usual dry tone creeping through.

You just laughed, the sound easy and warm, making him feel less self-conscious. "Well, I'll make sure to fill the silence then," you said cheerfully, as if you were on a mission to make him feel comfortable. "You're kind of a hard nut to crack, but I think I can manage."

The tension that had been there earlier started to melt away, and Wonwoo found himself talking a little more than he usually did. You asked him questions, talked about school, and even joked about how overprotective Mingyu could be at times. As the minutes passed, he realized how much easier it was to talk to you than he initially thought.

By the time he moved back into the living room with the snacks, there was no awkwardness between the two of you anymore. You had succeeded in doing what few could—making Wonwoo feel at ease.

A few days later, Wonwoo had stayed at Mingyu's apartment, slacking off on the sofa while playing some horror games on Mingyu's television.

"You're really bad at Identity V, Mingyu," Wonwoo teased, getting a little frustrated at how Mingyu had to be revived multiple times.

"Just switch the game already, this one's boring," Mingyu groaned, throwing the controller to the side.

Wonwoo just chuckled, not even pausing the game.

Then, the doorbell rang.

Mingyu groaned, dragging himself off the couch. "Ah, right. I forgot—my sister was dropping off some kimchi from Mom before she heads to cram school."

When you stepped inside, you flashed Mingyu a quick smile before handing him the containers. "Mom said to eat it while it's fresh."

Mingyu took them with a nod, already peeking inside. "Smells good." Then, without looking up, he asked, "You want me to drop you off at cram school?"

You shook your head. "Nah, I'll just take the bus. It's not that far."

Wonwoo, who had been watching from the couch, found himself unexpectedly... disappointed? He wasn't sure why, but he had kind of looked forward to talking to you again. You were easy to be around—bubbly, charming, and not at all fazed by his quiet nature. Not many people could handle his silence so effortlessly.

Mingyu, meanwhile, was still leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. "You sure? It's getting late."

"I'll be fine," you insisted, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. "It's just cram school, not a different planet."

Wonwoo hesitated for a second before speaking up. "Hey."

You turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

He cleared his throat, feeling a little out of place but saying it anyway. "I can walk you."

You blinked, clearly surprised. "Oh? Why, so you can chat me up again?" you teased with a wink.

Mingyu snorted, looking between the two of you. "Since when do you offer to walk people places, Wonwoo?"

Wonwoo shot him a look but didn't bother responding. Instead, he turned back to you, waiting for your answer.

You grinned, clearly amused by the whole situation. "Alright, alright. But no awkward silences, got it?"

Wonwoo nodded, grabbing his jacket as he followed you out the door. Mingyu watched the two of you leave, shaking his head with a grin. "Well, that's new."

Mingyu leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene with growing amusement. Wonwoo wasn't the type to jump at social interactions, especially not when it came to people outside their usual circle. And yet, here he was, offering to walk you to hagwon like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Mingyu's brows furrowed, suspicion creeping in.

No way. Does Wonwoo... like my sister?

The thought nearly made him laugh out loud. He knew Wonwoo well—too well, in fact. His best friend wasn't the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, let alone make some grand romantic gesture. But still, the way he lingered, the way his gaze flickered toward you, even the fact that he was putting in the effort to talk—something was definitely up.

Mingyu smirked, but he kept his mouth shut. For now.

"So," he drawled, pushing off the doorway, "you two gonna be alright?"

Wonwoo shot him a look, equal parts unimpressed and knowing. Meanwhile, you just rolled your eyes. "We'll survive, Gyu."

Mingyu chuckled. "Alright, alright. Have fun, lovebirds."

"Bye, Mingyu," you deadpanned, grabbing Wonwoo's wrist and tugging him down the hallway before your brother could say anything else. Wonwoo barely had time to process it before he was matching your pace, hands stuffed into his pockets.

The air between you was light, easy. You glanced up at him with a grin. "Didn't think I'd ever get you to walk me to hagwon. Kinda fun, huh?"

Wonwoo huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Not what I expected to be doing today, that's for sure."

You nudged him lightly. "What, hanging out with me is that bad?"

He glanced at you—really looked this time. You were different from Mingyu's usual crowd. Where his friends were loud and chaotic, you had this effortless energy that didn't demand anything from him. You just... talked, and somehow, he found himself talking back. It was weird, but not in a bad way.

"You're different," you mused, tilting your head. "I mean, I knew you were quiet, but you're not as... closed off as I thought you'd be."

Wonwoo smirked slightly, gaze forward. "I'm still quiet."

"Mm, not with me," you pointed out, eyes twinkling. "Why's that?"

Wonwoo hesitated, not because he didn't have an answer, but because he wasn't sure how to say it. Instead, he settled for the truth, plain and simple. "I don't feel like I have to try so hard with you."

Your steps slowed just slightly, your expression softening. "Huh. That's kinda nice."

He exhaled a small chuckle. "Guess you're a special case."

"Ooo, so I'm special?" you teased.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he muttered, but the faint smile on his face gave him away.

The conversation drifted into easier topics, laughter and playful jabs exchanged as the hagwon came into view. Wonwoo still didn't know what exactly made him want to be around you, but he didn't mind figuring it out along the way.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Mingyu leaned against the window, watching the two of you disappear into the distance.

Yeah, something was definitely up.

And as your older brother, he was gonna keep an eye on it.

A few days after that walk, Wonwoo found himself running into you more often than he expected. At first, it was innocent enough—quick encounters while he was out running errands or grabbing coffee with Mingyu. But soon, those moments stretched longer, turning into something he actually started looking forward to.

It didn't help that teasing you had become his new favorite pastime.

You'd be minding your own business, walking down the hallway in Mingyu's apartment building, when suddenly, you'd sense a presence behind you. Turning around, you'd find Wonwoo leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Going somewhere, princess?"

The nickname never failed to make you flush, though you'd gotten better at rolling your eyes in response. Still, it was the way he said it—so effortlessly teasing—that made your stomach flip, like you were missing the punchline to some inside joke.

At first, you chalked it up to friendly chatter. But the more it happened, the harder it became to tell if he was just being playful or if there was something else beneath it.

Then came the café incident.

You were sitting with your friends, chatting about classes, when one of them suddenly perked up, nodding toward the entrance. "Hey, isn't that your boyfriend?"

You blinked in confusion, following their gaze—only for your breath to catch slightly when you saw Wonwoo stepping inside, exuding that quiet, effortless confidence he always carried.

"What? No way," you sputtered, your voice catching as you waved off the idea.

Your friends exchanged knowing looks. "Come on, we've seen you two together all the time lately," one of them pointed out. "And let's be real, you'd make a cute couple."

Your face went hot. "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Then why do you look so guilty?" Another friend smirked.

Before you could form a coherent response, Wonwoo approached the table, sliding into the seat next to you as if he belonged there. "What's all this talk about me?" he asked, his deep voice laced with amusement.

"Nothing!" You nearly choked on the word, sitting up straighter.

Your friends weren't buying it. "We were just saying how cute you two look together," one of them supplied, grinning mischievously.

Wonwoo, the absolute menace, didn't even flinch. Instead, he leaned back lazily, his lips curving into that smirk that made your heart stutter. "Cute, huh?" he mused. Then, with a glance in your direction, he added, "She's already shy around me. You think she'd survive being my girlfriend?"

You gawked at him. "Wonwoo!"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the way you flustered so easily. "Relax," he murmured, leaning in slightly, just enough to send your brain into overdrive. "I'm just helping you out. You should be thanking me for making you so popular."

You shot him a glare, but your friends were eating it up, laughing as they nudged each other. "Honestly, you two are like an old married couple already."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, half-expecting the ground to swallow you whole. Meanwhile, Wonwoo looked way too pleased with himself, the playful glint in his eyes only growing stronger.

And from that day on, it only got worse.

Every time he ran into you, your friends' words echoed in your mind, making you hyperaware of every smirk, every lingering glance, every low chuckle. You weren't sure if it was all just a joke to him, but the real problem was—you were starting to hope it wasn't.

Because, teasing aside, there was something about the way he looked at you lately. Something softer, something unreadable. And that? That was the most confusing part of all.

Over the next few days, it became a pattern—these little run-ins, the teasing, the way Wonwoo always seemed to appear right when you thought you'd get a break from his smug remarks. If you were being honest, it was starting to feel less like coincidence and more like... something else.

Like right now.

You had just finished your class at the hagwon and were walking home when you heard footsteps behind you. At first, you didn't think much of it. But then—

"Hey, princess."

You nearly tripped over your own feet. Whipping around, you found Wonwoo standing there, hands in his pockets, looking entirely too smug.

"Seriously?" you huffed. "Do you have a tracker on me or something?"

He chuckled, falling into step beside you. "Nah. Just good timing."

"Suspicious timing," you muttered under your breath.

He grinned. "What, you don't like seeing me?"

You opened your mouth, ready to give a snarky reply, but the words stuck in your throat. Because, truthfully, you did like seeing him. You liked how he always managed to sneak into your day, turning normal moments into something else—something charged with a kind of tension you weren't sure how to handle yet.

But you weren't about to admit that.

"Did you just happen to be in the area, or are you stalking me now?" you teased instead, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

Wonwoo made a thoughtful sound, tilting his head. "Hmm. I guess I should start charging for my services if I'm going to be your personal bodyguard."

You rolled your eyes. "Bodyguard? Please. What are you protecting me from? My own two feet?"

He smirked. "You almost tripped earlier. Maybe you do need me."

Your mouth opened, then closed. He had a point, but you weren't going to let him have the satisfaction of winning this round. Instead, you crossed your arms and shot him a playful glare.

"You're insufferable, you know that?"

"And yet, here we are," he mused, his voice low, almost amused. "Walking home together. Again."

You faltered. There was something about the way he said it—like he was reminding you that these weren't just coincidences anymore. That maybe, just maybe, he was seeking you out just as much as you were looking forward to seeing him.

The thought made warmth creep up your neck.

The walk continued, the air between you shifting—still lighthearted, but tinged with something heavier, something unspoken. At some point, you felt the faintest brush of his hand against yours. It was barely anything, just a fleeting touch, but it sent a jolt up your spine.

You glanced at him, half-expecting him to be smirking at your reaction, but instead, Wonwoo was looking ahead, his expression unreadable.

The silence stretched between you for a beat too long.

"You're quieter than usual," you finally said, your voice softer now.

Wonwoo hummed, glancing at you. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

He hesitated, then shrugged. "You."

Your breath hitched. You blinked, caught completely off guard by the casual way he said it—like it wasn't something that would send your heart into a tailspin.

He must've noticed your reaction because his lips twitched into something close to a smirk. "Surprised?"

You scoffed, desperate to regain some control over the conversation. "You say that like I should just expect it."

"Maybe you should," he said, voice smooth, teasing, but with a weight behind it that made your stomach flip.

And just like that, the game between you shifted. It wasn't just harmless teasing anymore. It was charged, loaded with something more than just playful.

You were in trouble.

And worse? You weren't sure you minded.

Wonwoo should've seen it coming.

He was halfway through his iced americano when Mingyu—who had been rambling about his fantasy basketball team for the past fifteen minutes—suddenly leaned forward with a serious look. The shift in his tone was so abrupt that Wonwoo nearly choked on his drink.

"Don't date my sister."

Wonwoo blinked. "...Huh?"

Mingyu crossed his arms, leveling him with a look that was rare for him—stern, like he wasn't just joking around. "I'm serious. I know how you are, Wonwoo."

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. "How am I?"

"You don't do relationships," Mingyu shot back. "You flirt, you have fun, and then—poof—you're gone."

"That's not true," Wonwoo muttered, looking away.

"Dude. Jiwoo? Jiekyo? Mijin?" Mingyu listed off names, counting on his fingers. "You get bored too easily. My sister's not just some girl you can play around with."

That one stung.

Wonwoo clicked his tongue, tapping his fingers against his coffee cup. "You make me sound like some heartless asshole."

Mingyu exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I'm not saying you're a bad guy. I know you, Wonwoo. You just... don't take these things seriously. And I don't want her getting hurt because she thinks you do."

Wonwoo didn't answer. He could argue—say that things were different this time, that maybe he didn't know why, but the usual rules didn't seem to apply whenever you were involved. But he also knew Mingyu had a point.

Did he even know what he was doing?

Mingyu must've taken his silence as agreement because he nodded, looking satisfied. "Good. I just wanted to clear that up."

And that should've been the end of it.

Except... you had other plans.

The problem was, you were very aware of Wonwoo's usual avoidance tactics. And yet, despite Mingyu's warning (which you totally overheard, thank you very much), you weren't about to back off. If anything, it made things more fun.

So, naturally, you decided to corner Wonwoo after one of his gym sessions.

You found him outside, sitting on a bench, scrolling through his phone like he wasn't sweating buckets from lifting weights for an hour.

"Hey," you greeted, plopping down beside him.

He glanced at you, then back at his phone. "Hey."

Silence.

You smirked. "You're avoiding me."

His thumb hovered over the screen. "No, I'm not."

"You so are." You leaned in, trying to peek at his phone. "What, are you texting my brother to report my suspicious activities?"

He sighed, locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket. "Your brother would kill me if he knew we were talking right now."

You tilted your head. "Funny, I don't see Mingyu around."

He shot you a flat look. "That's not the point."

"You're acting like he owns me or something," you teased, nudging his arm with your shoulder. "What, are you scared of him?"

Wonwoo exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "It's not about that—"

"Then what's it about?"

He paused.

You took the chance to scoot closer. "Let me guess," you hummed, tapping your chin dramatically. "You think you'll break my heart? That you'll flirt, we'll have fun, and then poof—you're gone?"

Wonwoo visibly stiffened.

Bingo.

You grinned. "What if I told you I like a little risk?"

He groaned. "Don't say stuff like that."

"Why? Is it making things harder for you?"

He looked at you then, really looked at you—like he was trying to figure out if you were messing with him or if you actually meant it. And that's when you knew you had him.

"Relax, Wonwoo," you said, leaning back with a smug smile. "I just wanna grab coffee. Not a wedding ring."

He exhaled, shaking his head, but you caught the small smirk tugging at his lips. "You're impossible."

"And you are running out of excuses."

He stared at you for another beat before groaning, rubbing his face like you were the biggest headache of his life. Then—finally—he let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

"Fine," he muttered. "One coffee."

Your grin widened. "I knew you liked me."

"Shut up."

And just like that, the game was back on.

You should've known.

One coffee turned into another. Then into late-night calls. Then into hanging out at Wonwoo's apartment, always under the pretense of studying or just chilling.

Which was a huge lie. Because, really, what kind of studying involved Wonwoo's knee pressed against yours, his fingers grazing yours every few minutes, and him murmuring things in that low voice that made your brain short-circuit?

The worst part? He knew what he was doing.

And the proof?

Right now.

You were hanging out at his place after a long day, claiming his couch like it was yours while he sat beside you. Some dumb multiplayer game was on the screen, and you were so sure you were winning.

Until Wonwoo conveniently lost at the very last second.

"You're so bad at this," you teased, laughing as you nudged his arm.

Wonwoo, who had been sitting back lazily just seconds ago, suddenly leaned forward. "You made me lose on purpose."

You gasped dramatically. "How dare you accuse me—"

Before you could finish, he moved.

Fast.

One second you were playfully bickering, and the next? You were flat on your back, pressed against the couch, with Wonwoo hovering above you—his hands trapping you on either side of your head.

Your brain short-circuited.

"W-Wait—"

Wonwoo's knee nudged between your thighs, pressing down just enough to make you hyperaware of every single point of contact between you. The air shifted, playful teasing melting into something heavier.

Something that made your skin burn.

The way he looked at you—half-lidded eyes roaming over your face, his smirk growing as he took in your reaction—made your stomach twist into knots.

The corner of his lips curled. "What's wrong?"

Your throat was so dry. "You're—you're too close."

He hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Am I?"

And then—because this man had no mercy—he dipped even lower, his nose brushing against yours as he whispered against your lips,

"You started this."

A second later, his lips crashed onto yours.

Soft but demanding, like he had been holding himself back for too long. His hands slipped down, gripping your waist, fingers digging into your sides as he pulled you impossibly close. The kiss was slow at first—just a gentle press of lips—but then Wonwoo tilted his head, deepening it, his mouth moving against yours with a languid, intoxicating rhythm.

You melted.

Your hands, which had been gripping onto his hoodie for dear life, moved on their own—one slipping into his hair, tugging slightly. The groan he let out against your lips sent a shockwave down your spine.

Wonwoo's hands moved lower, resting on your thighs before effortlessly pulling you up onto his lap.

The sudden shift made you gasp, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself. But before you could even think, his lips found yours again, this time more urgent, more needy.

And you?

You couldn't even pretend to fight it.

Because Wonwoo kissed like he meant it. Like he was making up for all the stolen glances, the teasing touches, the lingering tension that had built up between you for weeks.

And you let him.

Because, honestly?

You wanted it just as much.

From that night on, it was impossible to pretend you weren't completely wrapped around each other's fingers.

Sure, Mingyu didn't know yet, but Wonwoo made it really hard to act normal.

Like when he'd pick you up from hagwon (cram school) at night, leaning against his car like some effortlessly hot drama lead, hands in his pockets, waiting for you. And when you walked up, flustered and mumbling about how someone might see?

He'd just smirk and lean down, murmuring, "Let them."

Or when he'd help you study at the library but deliberately lean in too close—his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "You're not focusing."

As if he was helping??

And the worst part? He loved seeing you flustered.

Like the time he casually pulled you into an empty library aisle, tilted your chin up, and kissed you right then and there.

"You keep getting distracted," he murmured against your lips, eyes gleaming with amusement.

And you?? You just stood there, clutching your book like your life depended on it.

But hey. What Mingyu doesn't know won't kill him, right?

...Right?

---

Honestly, you and Wonwoo had been too good at sneaking around.

The stolen kisses in empty library aisles. The late-night study sessions that turned into him pulling you onto his lap just to mess with you. The way he'd casually lean against his car outside your cram school, hands shoved into his hoodie, waiting like some effortlessly cool drama lead.

Y'all really thought you were slick.

Until one night.

You were saying your goodbyes outside your house, the streetlights casting a golden glow over the both of you. Wonwoo had driven you home like always, but this time, instead of the usual quick peck and see you later, he leaned in, his hands resting on your waist, his breath warm against your lips.

"You're so cute when you're nervous," he murmured before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, tilting his head just right so you felt it all the way down to your toes.

And that was the moment your soul left your body.

Because the second Wonwoo pulled away—both of you breathless, smiling like lovesick idiots—you heard it.

A slow. Dramatic. Clap.

You froze. Wonwoo froze.

And then—

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

Your blood ran cold.

You turned around so slowly you swore time slowed down.

And there, standing in front of the house, arms crossed, wearing the most betrayed expression you'd ever seen, was Kim Mingyu.

"Oh, shit," Wonwoo muttered under his breath.

"OH SHIT IS RIGHT, JEON WONWOO," Mingyu roared, stalking forward like an older brother about to ruin your entire existence.

You instinctively stepped in front of Wonwoo like that was gonna protect him from the absolute storm that was about to hit. "Mingyu, listen, before you freak out—"

"BEFORE I FREAK OUT???" Mingyu's voice cracked, eyes darting between you and Wonwoo. "YOU'RE KISSING MY BEST FRIEND ON OUR FRONT PORCH LIKE IT'S A K-DRAMA AND YOU WANT ME TO STAY CALM???"

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Looked at Wonwoo for help.

Wonwoo: 😬

You: 😭

Mingyu let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning to Wonwoo with the deadliest glare known to man.

"You. Follow me. NOW."

Wonwoo shot you a look—part this is it, I'm gonna die and part I regret nothing. And then he followed Mingyu inside like a man walking to his execution.

You just stood there, hands on your head, wondering if you should start preparing a eulogy.

Because one thing was certain.

Kim Mingyu was about to ruin your entire love life.

You had never paced so much in your entire life.

Standing outside your front door, you tried to listen in—tried being the keyword. But Mingyu's voice was booming from inside the house, and you could already tell from his tone that he was about to make Wonwoo regret all his life choices.

You pressed your ear against the door.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Oop. You winced. That was not a good start.

"Mingyu, calm down—" Wonwoo started, but Mingyu was having NONE of it.

"CALM DOWN? OH, SORRY, SHOULD I THROW YOU A PARTY INSTEAD? CONGRATS, YOU'RE DATING MY BABY SISTER??? BRO, I TRUSTED YOU!"

There was a pause. A deep sigh. Then:

"I told you to break up with her."

WHAT.

You slammed the door open so hard it bounced off the wall.

"EXCUSE ME??"

Both of them turned to you like deer caught in headlights.

"YOU WHAT???" you yelled, pointing at Mingyu like he'd just confessed to murder.

Mingyu blinked at you like he just realized what he said. "Uh—wait. No, that's not what I—"

Wonwoo was dying. You could see it. He was looking between the two of you, lips pressed together, trying so hard not to laugh.

You turned to Wonwoo, still pointing at Mingyu. "DID YOU KNOW THIS?"

Wonwoo immediately held his hands up. "Nope. No idea. But honestly, this is the best plot twist I've ever witnessed."

"Mingyu," you hissed, grinning like an absolute menace. "Wonwoo's a great guy. Make him break up with me and I'll never talk to you again."

Mingyu let out the loudest groan, dragging his hands down his face. "I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT. I meant—I don't know! I just didn't want you dating Wonwoo of all people!"

"Wow. Okay. Ouch," Wonwoo muttered, actually offended.

Mingyu whirled on him. "I'M SORRY, BUT DO YOU KNOW YOUR OWN HISTORY? YOU'RE A HEARTBREAKER, BRO. I'M NOT LETTING YOU BREAK MY SISTER'S HEART."

Wonwoo's face immediately darkened. "Mingyu," he said, voice low.

And just like that, the room shifted.

Because that tone? That was not Wonwoo the sarcastic asshole. That was Wonwoo the serious guy who doesn't mess around when it comes to things that matter.

Mingyu must've felt it too, because his whole demeanor changed.

"I'm not playing around with her," Wonwoo said, steady and clear. "I'm not screwing this up." His gaze flickered to you—soft, almost apologetic, like he hated that this conversation was happening in front of you.

"I like her," he continued, voice quieter now. "A lot. More than I probably should." He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I get it. You're looking out for her. But Mingyu, you have to know—I wouldn't start something with her if I wasn't serious about it."

...

DEAD. SILENCE.

You held your breath, watching Mingyu's expression shift.

He looked at you. Then back at Wonwoo.

Then back at you.

And then—he sighed the biggest sigh of his life.

"Ugh. Fine." He dragged a hand through his hair, groaning. "Fine. If you two wanna make out and be disgusting, whatever. But," he said, suddenly deadly serious, "if you hurt her, Wonwoo, I swear on my life—"

"I know," Wonwoo cut in, smirking. "You'll kill me."

"No," Mingyu said. "I'll make you wish I did."

WELL.

You weren't sure whether to be relieved or terrified.

But at least you and Wonwoo weren't hiding anymore.

And the best part?

Mingyu would never find out just how much sneaking around you two had already done.

Mingyu had no idea what he had just unleashed.

Because the second he begrudgingly gave his approval, Wonwoo had decided on a new mission in life:

Make. You. Flustered.

And he was very good at it.

---

EXHIBIT A: THE COUCH INCIDENT

Mingyu was in the kitchen, completely unaware of what was happening in the living room.

You were sitting cross-legged on the couch, a controller in hand, fully focused on the game—or at least, you were trying to be.

Wonwoo, on the other hand?

Oh, he was definitely not focused on the game.

He was watching you. Studying you like a predator stalking its prey.

And the moment you made a mistake in the game, he pounced.

"HAH—GOTCHA," he laughed, tackling you onto the couch.

You yelped, the controller flying out of your hands as Wonwoo pinned you down, his arms caging you in.

"W-Wonwoo—!" you stammered, wide-eyed.

"Cheaters don't deserve to win," he teased, leaning closer. His weight was warm, his cologne intoxicating, and his smirk was nothing short of sinful.

And just when you were about to absolutely combust, he dipped his head—

And kissed you.

Deep. Slow. Lingering.

Your hands fisted his hoodie, a helpless whimper slipping from your lips as he tilted his head, kissing you deeper.

His lips moved against yours like he had all the time in the world. Like this was something he'd wanted to do for so, so long.

And then—

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FU—"

MINGYU.

Mingyu. Was. Here.

You froze.

Wonwoo froze.

Mingyu's scream could have shattered glass.

"WONWOO, GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY SISTER RIGHT NOW."

But Wonwoo?

Wonwoo smirked.

And he didn't move.

Instead, he pressed another slow, deliberate kiss to your lips—just to spite Mingyu.

"OH MY GOD, YOU—YOU—"

You didn't even know who moved first—Wonwoo scrambling off you or Mingyu lunging at him like a wild animal.

All you knew was you were absolutely dying of embarrassment.

EXHIBIT B: THE STUDY SESSION FROM HELL

You should've known studying with Wonwoo was a terrible idea.

Not because he wasn't helpful—he was. Very helpful.

But his idea of helping you study was apparently making you flustered as hell.

You sat across from each other in the library, a pile of textbooks between you. Wonwoo was supposed to be quizzing you, but instead—

Instead, his foot nudged yours under the table.

You ignored it.

Then his foot slid up your calf.

Your breath hitched.

And when you finally looked up at him, the bastard was smirking.

"W-what?" you stammered, gripping your pen so tight you thought it would snap.

Wonwoo propped his chin on his hand, voice low and teasing.

"Nothing," he murmured. "Just wondering how long you can focus before I distract you."

Oh. Oh.

You gulped.

And then—you felt a shadow loom over you.

MINGYU.

Again. AGAIN.

His arms were crossed. His expression? A mix of pure disgust and betrayal.

"...Am I interrupting something?" he asked flatly.

You and Wonwoo both jumped apart like you'd been electrocuted.

"N-no!" you squeaked.

Mingyu's eyes narrowed.

"...Are you two seriously making out in the LIBRARY???"

Wonwoo, without missing a beat: "Wouldn't be the first time."

Mingyu died on the spot.

Mingyu was 100% sure he was living in his own personal hell.

Because every time he turned around, Wonwoo was doing something to make his little sister blush like crazy.

A hand on her waist. A whisper in her ear. A kiss on the cheek.

AND IT WAS DRIVING MINGYU INSANE.

He started setting rules.

"NO KISSING IN FRONT OF ME."

But then, Wonwoo would smirk and kiss you on the forehead instead.

"NO TOUCHING."

So Wonwoo would lace your fingers together behind his back, out of Mingyu's sight.

"NO SECRET GLANCES—OH MY GOD, I SAW THAT, YOU THINK I CAN'T SEE YOU TWO STARING AT EACH OTHER??? STOP IT. STOP IT RIGHT NOW."

Wonwoo, grinning like a menace: "I don't know what you're talking about."

Mingyu was this close to throwing himself off a cliff.

The moment Wonwoo got you alone in his apartment, there was no hesitation. The second the door clicked shut, his hands were already on you—warm, firm, desperate in a way that sent shivers up your spine. His fingers trailed along your waist, pulling you flush against him before he backed you up against the kitchen counter, his dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with something dangerous—something hungry.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured, voice low and rough, the heat of his breath fanning over your lips.

Before you could answer, his lips crashed onto yours, devouring, claiming, stealing every last ounce of air from your lungs. His hands roamed, fingers sliding down the curve of your back, gripping, exploring, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Your knees nearly buckled from the intensity, the sheer heat of it all, but Wonwoo held you firm, like he'd never let you go.

His lips trailed down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, sucking lightly until you whimpered—until he had you melting for him, hands gripping onto his shirt like you needed something to hold onto or else you'd fall apart.

"Wonwoo," you gasped when he suddenly hoisted you up onto the counter with ease, spreading your thighs so he could step between them, his hands sliding under your dress, fingers tracing the sensitive skin along the inside of your thighs.

You barely had time to react before he tilted your chin up with his fingers, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, "Tell me to stop."

But you didn't. You couldn't. Instead, you pulled him in, kissing him with all the desperation you felt in your body.

He groaned into your mouth, deep and guttural, and suddenly, the warmth of his hands was gone—but only so he could hook his fingers around your dress and unzip it, painfully slow.

The fabric slid off your shoulders, pooling around your waist as Wonwoo's eyes darkened. His fingers traced down your bare skin, mapping out every inch of you, as if memorizing the way you shivered under his touch.

Then, in one swift motion, he lifted you off the counter with ease, his lips never leaving yours as he carried you through the apartment—straight to his neatly arranged bedroom.

You barely had time to take in your surroundings before Wonwoo pinned you onto the bed, hovering over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his eyes burning into yours.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he muttered against your lips before kissing you senseless— deep, slow, and thorough, like he was savoring every second.

His lips trailed lower, down your neck, your collarbone, his hands exploring, teasing, making you squirm under his touch.

He was taking his time, driving you insane, and when his fingers finally dipped lower, teasing at the edge of your underwear, you let out a shaky breath.

"Wonwoo," you pleaded.

He smirked, dragging his lips back up to your ear. "Patience, princess."

But patience was the last thing on your mind when he finally, finally touched you.

The second his fingers slipped past the band of your underwear, featherlight but deliberate, you shivered beneath him. Wonwoo took his time, tracing along your soaked heat with the slightest pressure—just enough to make you tremble, but not enough to satisfy the aching need building in your core.

He was cruel like that.

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice low, deep, and intoxicating.

"Look at you..." he murmured, dragging a single finger down your slick folds before circling your entrance—just barely pushing in. "So wet already. Is this all for me?"

Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening in his shirt.

"Wonwoo, please—"

A sharp gasp left your lips when he suddenly pushed in one finger, slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch before curling it just right, pressing against that sensitive spot inside you.

"Please what, baby?" His smirk was dangerous, his movements even more so as he added a second finger, stretching you, filling you, setting an excruciatingly slow rhythm that made you feel helplessly desperate.

Your hips bucked instinctively, seeking more, but Wonwoo only chuckled, his free hand pressing you down against the mattress.

"Needy little thing," he muttered before dipping down to kiss you again, swallowing every whimper, every broken moan as his fingers moved faster—deeper.

You were barely holding onto reality at this point. The heat, the pleasure, the way his voice sent shivers through your spine—it was too much and not enough all at once.

Then suddenly, he was gone.

You whined at the loss, blinking up at him in frustration, but Wonwoo only chuckled as he pulled his shirt over his head—revealing his lean, toned body, his sharp jaw, his intense gaze locked onto yours like you were the only thing he could see.

"Relax, baby," he whispered, crawling back over you, caging you in beneath him. "I'm not done with you yet."

His lips trailed lower, down your neck, your chest, your stomach— his tongue and lips teasing, tasting, claiming every inch of your skin until you were gasping beneath him.

By the time he reached your soaked heat, you were already a mess—whimpering, squirming, aching for more.

And when he lowered his head between your thighs, his dark eyes flickering up to meet yours just before his tongue flicked against your most sensitive spot—

You swore you saw stars.

The first stroke of his tongue sent a full-body shudder through you, your fingers immediately tangling in his hair as he dragged the flat of his tongue along your soaked heat.

Wonwoo hummed at the taste, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still as he set a slow, torturous rhythm—kissing, licking, sucking—his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud before flicking against it in teasing little strokes that left you gasping for air.

Your thighs trembled, threatening to close around his head, but he only chuckled against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through your already overwhelmed body.

"Already shaking, baby?" he murmured, lips brushing against your core, voice dripping with amusement and hunger. "Thought you wanted more?"

You barely had time to answer before his tongue plunged inside you, and that was it—your head fell back against the pillow, your back arching off the bed, your grip in his hair tightening as he ate you like he was starving.

Deep, slow strokes. Messy, wet kisses. His nose brushing against your clit just right.

It was filthy. It was heaven.

Wonwoo knew exactly what he was doing, and he was doing it so well it had you a whimpering, moaning mess beneath him, your legs trembling as he took his sweet time ruining you.

The heat in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter, your thighs twitching with every sinful movement of his mouth, until—

"Wonwoo—I'm—"

He didn't stop. If anything, he devoured you harder, one hand reaching up to lace his fingers with yours while the other pinned you down as you cried out, your orgasm crashing over you so hard your vision went white.

Your whole body tensed, shook, melted all at once as he licked you through it, riding out your high until you were twitching from oversensitivity.

Only then did he finally pull away, lips and chin glistening, looking up at you with dark, satisfied eyes.

"You taste so fucking good," he muttered, crawling back up, his body hot and solid against yours as he captured your lips in a messy, heated kiss—letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

And just when you thought you couldn't handle any more, you felt it.

The hard press of his cock against your thigh. Heavy. Hot. Desperate.

Wonwoo groaned against your lips, his hips grinding against you in slow, torturous drags.

"I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips, his voice wrecked with hunger, want, need.

He reached down, gripping himself, lining up against your still-throbbing heat—

"Tell me you want this."

His voice was gravelly, deep, wrecked, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips.

You exhaled, still dizzy, still trembling, but you knew exactly what you wanted.

"Wonwoo..." You cupped his face, brushing your lips against his, meeting his dark, burning gaze.

"I want you. All of you."

That was all he needed.

With a low, guttural groan, he pushed in—

The stretch of him had you gasping—a slow, deliberate push that filled you inch by inch, his cock dragging along your walls so deep, so hot that your nails dug into his shoulders.

Wonwoo groaned against your throat, his breath ragged as he stilled inside you for a moment—his fingers gripping your thighs tightly, almost trembling.

"Fuck—you're so tight, baby," he muttered, voice wrecked, strained, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck as he bottomed out.

The feeling was overwhelming. The stretch. The heat. The way his hips were pressed flush against yours, his cock pulsing inside you.

"You okay?" he whispered, kissing your jaw, your cheek, your lips.

You barely had time to answer before he rolled his hips, dragging himself out before pushing back in with a slow, deep thrust that had you moaning into his mouth.

And then he did it again. And again.

Slow. Deep. Hard.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you against him with every thrust, burying himself so deep you felt him everywhere.

"You feel so fucking good," he groaned, forehead pressed against yours as his pace quickened, the slow drag of his cock turning into harder, deeper strokes.

Your body arched beneath him, chasing the friction, your legs wrapping around his waist as you gasped, whimpered, moaned, nails raking down his back as he thrust into you harder.

The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, of breathless gasps, of desperate moans.

The pleasure built fast and hot, your body tightening around him, your thighs trembling as his movements turned desperate, hungry.

"Wonwoo—" you moaned his name, voice wrecked, needy, broken.

His pace stuttered at that—his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself deeper, faster, harder, hips snapping against yours in deep, punishing thrusts.

"Say it again," he growled against your lips, his hand slipping between your bodies, fingers pressing against your sensitive clit, rubbing tight, slow circles.

"Wonwoo—oh my god—"

The heat coiled tighter, your body tensing, trembling, shattering—

And then you were falling apart.

Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, your body tightening around him as you cried out, gasping his name, trembling beneath him.

Wonwoo groaned, cursing under his breath, his thrusts turning erratic, deeper, rougher as he chased his own high—until with one final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his body shuddering as he came, moaning your name against your lips.

For a moment, the room was silent, heavy with heat, with breathless gasps, with the aftershocks of pleasure still running through both of you.

Then, slowly, he pulled out, pressing a lazy, lingering kiss to your lips, his hands still holding your body so close, so tight.

You were dazed, boneless, completely ruined.

And so was he.

Wonwoo chuckled, breathless, tucking your hair behind your ear as he smirked down at you.

"Think Mingyu's gonna kill me if he finds out?"

You groaned, shoving him playfully, but he only laughed, kissing you again, slower this time, softer.

"You're mine now, you know that, right?"

And with the way he was looking at you, you knew there was no going back.

The aftermath was warm, quiet, and dangerously comfortable. Wonwoo was still half on top of you, his body radiating heat, his breath slow and steady against your shoulder. His arm was firm around your waist, keeping you close, like he wasn't ready to let go.

"You good?" he murmured, his voice deep, low, still wrecked from what just happened.

You hummed, nuzzling closer, feeling the soft press of his lips against your forehead.

This was nice.

Too nice.

And then your phone vibrated.

Wonwoo groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Don't answer it."

But you had to. Because when you reached for it, Mingyu's name was staring back at you.

Shit.

You shot up so fast that Wonwoo barely had time to react before you were scrambling for your clothes, your heart pounding.

Wonwoo, still half-naked and looking so effortlessly wrecked, just lay there, watching you in pure amusement.

"Relax," he said, grinning like a menace. "He doesn't know you're here."

You shot him a glare, still clutching your phone like it was a ticking bomb.

"He will if I don't answer," you hissed, and before Wonwoo could make another smart remark, you swiped to pick up the call.

"Mingyu?"

"Where the hell are you?"

You froze. Shit.

Wonwoo was watching you closely now, eyes dark with amusement, but he didn't move—just propped himself up on one elbow, looking like sin itself.

You cleared your throat, desperately trying to sound normal. "I—I'm at the library."

Wonwoo bit his lip, shaking his head.

Liar.

"The library?" Mingyu sounded skeptical. "You never stay this late."

Think. Think.

"Uh, yeah, well—Wonwoo said he'd help me study," you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

The silence on the other end was deafening.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow.

"Mingyu?" you tried again.

"You're with Wonwoo?"

Your stomach dropped.

Wonwoo, the absolute devil that he was, just grinned, running a hand through his messy hair like he wasn't literally in bed with you.

"You—" Mingyu let out a sharp exhale. "I swear to god, if that bastard tries anything—"

"Relax!" you cut in quickly, forcing out a laugh. "It's just studying."

Wonwoo snorted.

Mingyu sighed. "I don't trust him."

"Gee, thanks, Gyu," Wonwoo said loudly, just to be annoying.

You glared at him, mouthing 'shut up' before turning back to the call. "I'll be home soon, okay?"

Mingyu grumbled something under his breath but eventually let you go.

The moment you hung up, you turned to Wonwoo, scowling.

"You were not helpful."

Wonwoo only smirked, sitting up, the sheets sliding down his torso, revealing even more of his very distracting body.

"Studying, huh?" he teased.

You threw a pillow at him.

"Shut up."

Sneaking around was thrilling.

Maybe it was the risk of getting caught, or maybe it was the way Wonwoo would sneak touches when no one was looking—his fingers grazing your waist, his lips brushing your ear just to whisper the most unnecessary things.

But Mingyu was getting suspicious.

And Wonwoo? He was making it worse on purpose.

Like now.

You were sitting across from Mingyu at a café, trying to act normal, when Wonwoo slid into the seat beside you—so close that your knees bumped under the table.

"Gyu," he greeted casually, stealing a fry from Mingyu's plate.

Mingyu narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Wonwoo just shrugged, unfazed. "Saw you two and thought I'd join."

Liar.

You knew for a fact that he had been waiting outside the whole time, texting you the filthiest things under the table, just to watch you squirm.

Now, he was acting innocent.

And he was way too close.

So close that you could feel the heat of his thigh against yours, the brush of his fingers as he reached for another fry.

Mingyu was still watching him suspiciously.

And then Wonwoo did it.

His hand, sneaky as hell, slid under the table.

Onto your thigh.

You froze.

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers pressed against your bare skin, teasing, stroking, inching higher.

You shot him a warning look, trying not to choke on your drink.

He only smirked, looking way too entertained.

Mingyu, completely unaware, was rambling about something—basketball? A movie? You weren't even listening. Because Wonwoo was dragging his fingers along the hem of your skirt, toying with it, barely slipping underneath.

You squeezed your legs shut, but it only trapped his hand there.

His gaze flickered to yours, dark, teasing.

'Relax,' his eyes seemed to say. 'Unless you want him to notice.'

You bit your lip so hard it almost hurt.

Mingyu frowned. "Why do you look weird?"

Shit.

You cleared your throat, forcing a smile. "I—I don't?"

Mingyu narrowed his eyes.

Wonwoo, the absolute menace, just chuckled and leaned back, finally pulling his hand away.

"You should eat more, princess," he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your entire face burned.

And Mingyu? Oblivious.

For now.

Your voice was barely a whisper, heart pounding as you felt Wonwoo's breath against your ear.

"That's what makes it fun," he murmured, voice low, teasing.

This was dangerous. Reckless, even. But you couldn't stop yourself.

It started as a simple study session. Wonwoo had picked you up after hagwon, claiming he'd "help" you with your assignments.

Total bullshit.

Because now?

You were pressed up against the library bookshelf, the dim glow of the emergency exit light barely illuminating the mischief in his eyes.

Your breath hitched as his lips brushed over your jaw, slow, calculated. "You're so easy to mess with, princess."

You swallowed, trying to act indifferent, but your body betrayed you.

Because his hands were already on your waist, sneaking under your oversized hoodie, fingertips grazing your skin, making you shiver.

"Wonwoo," you warned, voice wobbly. "Someone might see—"

He kissed you.

Cut you off completely, swallowing any argument you might've had. It was deep, consuming, with just enough desperation to make your knees buckle.

And he knew.

He gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, pressing you harder against the shelves. You gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist instinctively.

His lips traveled down to your neck, kissing, sucking—leaving marks in places only he would see.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, earning a low groan from him.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he murmured against your skin, his voice sending heat straight to your core.

And then, his hand slipped under your skirt.

You gasped, back arching as he dragged his fingers along your soaked panties, teasing.

"Already wet for me?" he whispered, grinning when you squirmed in his grip.

"Wonwoo," you hissed.

"Shh," he hushed, lips finding yours again, muffling your soft whimpers. "Unless you want someone to catch us."

Fuck.

This was so, so wrong.

But god, it felt too good to stop.

His fingers moved against you, slow, deliberate, applying just enough pressure to make you tremble.

And then—

"Hello? Is someone there?"

A voice.

Somewhere in the library.

You froze.

Wonwoo, however?

He didn't stop.

His fingers kept moving, rubbing slow, lazy circles against your clothed heat.

"Wonwoo," you pleaded, voice barely a breath.

He just smirked.

The footsteps got closer.

Your heart pounded as Wonwoo kissed you again, swallowing your gasps as he slipped his fingers past the fabric, stroking your bare heat.

And then—

The footsteps faded.

Whoever it was, they were gone.

And you were falling apart in Wonwoo's arms.

He didn't stop until your body was trembling, until your head fell against his shoulder, until you were gripping onto his sweater like it was the only thing grounding you.

And then, finally, he pulled back.

He grinned, watching you struggle to catch your breath. His fingers—still wet from you—slid up your thigh, leaving a teasing trail.

"You were so loud, princess," he whispered against your ear. "I almost thought you wanted to get caught."

FUCK.

---

There were no fancy words, no grand declarations.

But when Wonwoo loved, he showed it in every little thing he did.

It was the way he kept your water bottle filled when you were too busy studying. The way he brought you warm meals when you forgot to eat. The way he let you borrow his headphones, knowing you liked his playlists better than yours.

Even now, as he sat in his gaming chair, his fingers absentmindedly traced circles on your bare thigh, pulling you closer onto his lap.

"You're too busy for me," you pouted, resting your chin on his shoulder as he adjusted his headset.

Wonwoo smirked, clicking a button on his keyboard. "I just spent two hours helping you study, princess. What do you mean?"

You huffed, nuzzling into his neck. "I mean, you're always playing games or working. I miss you."

His fingers paused on the keyboard.

A moment later, he let out a sigh and removed his headset, turning to face you.

"You're clingy," he teased, but the way his hands slid up your arms, the way his thumb brushed your cheek, said otherwise.

"You like it," you shot back.

He chuckled, pulling you in for a soft kiss. It was lazy, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world for you.

Maybe he did.

Because after that, he turned off his PC.

You blinked. "You're done?"

"Yeah." He stood, effortlessly carrying you to the bed. "I'd rather spend time with you."

Your heart melted.

"But your game—"

"It's just a game," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You're more important."

Fuck.

That did things to you.

You clung to him tighter, burying your face in his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Wonwoo wasn't the type to say 'I love you' a hundred times a day.

But he showed it. In the way he adjusted your blanket at night. In the way he massaged your shoulders after a long study session. In the way he never let you walk on the side of the road.

And in moments like this, where he'd drop everything just to hold you.

"You don't need anything but me, right?" he whispered against your hair, voice warm, teasing.

You smiled, pulling him closer.

"Right."

You were curled up on the couch, drowning in an oversized hoodie that—surprise, surprise—smelled like Wonwoo. The weight of your laptop sat in your lap, screen glowing with the absolute horror that was your unfinished assignment.

Two thousand words. Due tomorrow. You had written ten.

A dramatic sigh left your lips as you flopped onto the cushions, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to life.

Wonwoo, who had been watching you from his desk, barely glanced up from his monitor. "You're sulking."

"You're ignoring me," you shot back, hugging a pillow.

"I'm working," he replied, but there was a teasing lilt in his voice. "And you should be too."

You groaned into the fabric. "I can't. I have no motivation."

Finally, he turned his chair around, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he studied you. His dark eyes flickered with something unreadable—fond amusement, exasperation, love, all tangled into one.

"You're acting like a baby," he murmured, but the way he got up and walked toward you said otherwise.

And then—before you could process it—he was lifting your legs and settling himself between them, pulling you into his lap with ease.

"W-Wonwoo?" you stammered, hands instinctively gripping his shoulders.

"You don't have to ask, princess," he said, voice soft, low, knowing. "I already know what you need."

Your breath hitched.

And then his lips were on your forehead—one slow, lingering kiss.

Then another on your cheek.

Then your temple.

Then your nose.

The kind of kisses that weren't just physical, but something deeper. Like he was pouring everything he felt into them without saying a single word.

Your heart felt like it would burst.

"W-Wonwoo," you whispered again, but this time, it came out softer, more delicate.

"Mm?" He hummed, resting his chin on top of your head.

You swallowed. "You're distracting me."

He let out a soft chuckle. "Good."

You wanted to be mad, but how could you be?

Especially when he wrapped his arms around you tighter, rocking you slightly, like he was trying to comfort you without even realizing it.

Like you were his whole world.

---

Wonwoo didn't like extravagant gestures.

But spoiling you? That was different.

He'd do anything to make your life easier.

Which is why, when you walked into your apartment after a long day, you stopped in your tracks at the sight of takeout containers neatly placed on the table.

Your favorite food. From your favorite restaurant.

And beside them—a brand new necklace, delicate and subtle, but undeniably expensive.

You blinked.

"Wonwoo?"

From the couch, he looked up from his book. "Yeah?"

You pointed at the table. "What is this?"

"Food," he deadpanned. "And a gift."

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms. "Why?"

He shrugged. "You had a long day."

Your heart faltered.

You took a slow step forward, staring at him. "Wonwoo, I told you not to keep buying me things."

"And I told you to stop acting like you don't love it," he murmured, flipping a page.

You huffed, but your face was already burning. "That's not the point!"

"You're so spoiled, you know that?" he said, tilting his head. "If I don't do this, you sulk."

"I do not."

"You do," he smirked, and before you could argue, he was standing up, taking slow steps toward you.

Your breath caught.

"You like being taken care of," he murmured, stopping just inches away. "And I like taking care of you."

Fuck.

Your pulse skyrocketed.

"Wonwoo," you whispered, and his hands slid up your arms, featherlight, teasing.

"Mm?"

"You're not being fair."

He leaned in, lips brushing your jaw, sending shivers down your spine.

"Neither are you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

And just like that, you melted.

Wonwoo wasn't a morning person.

But when he woke up to the empty space beside him, his eyes narrowed instantly.

You were supposed to be asleep in his arms, tangled in his sheets, where he could keep you safe and warm.

Instead—

He blinked blearily, pushing the covers off. The faint glow from your laptop illuminated your silhouette, hunched over at the desk.

"Baby?" His voice was gravelly, hoarse from sleep.

You turned, blinking at him. "Did I wake you?"

Wonwoo ran a hand through his hair, eyes flickering between you and the glowing screen.

He didn't say anything. Just stood up, walked over, and gently closed your laptop.

You gasped. "Wonwoo, I need to finish—"

"Later," he murmured, voice low, commanding. Not angry, not strict. Just firm.

You opened your mouth to protest, but then—he was lifting you effortlessly, carrying you back to bed.

"W-Wait—"

"Shh," he whispered, tucking you back under the sheets before crawling in beside you.

Then his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his bare chest, his lips grazing your shoulder.

"Come back to bed," he murmured.

You shivered. "But—"

"You can finish in the morning," he whispered, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your neck. "Just stay with me right now."

And really, how could you say no to that?

"You're exhausted. Just sleep, princess."

The dull ache in your shoulders was killing you.

It had been a long-ass day, and all you wanted to do was collapse.

But your laptop blinked back at you, merciless and taunting, deadlines creeping closer.

Wonwoo watched you silently from across the room, arms crossed, brows furrowed. You could feel his stare, heavy and knowing.

"You need to sleep," he finally murmured.

You didn't even look at him. "I'll sleep after this."

A beat of silence.

Then—before you could react—arms wrapped around you from behind, lifting you with ease.

"W-Wonwoo?! Put me down—!"

"No." Deadpan. Unbothered.

And just like that, you were in bed.

He pressed you into the pillows, throwing the blanket over you like tucking in a child.

"W-Wait—"

"You're exhausted," he muttered, climbing in beside you. "Just sleep, princess."

You tried to fight it. You really did.

But then—his arms tightened around you, his lips ghosted over your forehead, and his warmth melted into your body.

And suddenly... your eyelids were too heavy to keep open.

Damn him.

"Give me your bag, princess."

College was draining you.

You had just finished a three-hour lecture, your brain barely functioning, your bag heavy as hell.

And then—there he was.

Waiting outside, tall and gorgeous in a black hoodie and sweats, hands in his pockets, eyes softening the second he saw you.

Wonwoo, your personal chauffeur.

You sighed in relief, grateful for his presence alone.

Until—he took one look at your slouched shoulders and frowned.

"Give me your bag."

You blinked. "Huh?"

He nodded at your shoulder. "Your bag. Give it."

You clutched it instinctively. "It's not that heavy—"

Wonwoo didn't even let you finish.

He gently pried it from your grip, slinging it over his own shoulder like it weighed nothing.

"Wonwoo—"

"You looked tired, princess," he murmured, taking your hand. "Let me take care of you."

Your heart skipped a beat.

...Yeah. You weren't arguing with that.

"Sit still, princess. Let me take care of you."

You sighed in bliss, eyes fluttering shut as Wonwoo's fingers worked through your damp hair, massaging your scalp.

God, he was good at this.

His touch was gentle, slow, firm—soothing every little knot of tension you didn't even know you had.

"You're going to fall asleep," he murmured, amused.

"Mm," you hummed, barely awake, tilting your head into his hands.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You're so easy to please."

You smiled, eyes still closed. "Only when it's you."

Wonwoo paused.

And then—you felt his lips on your neck, slow and deliberate, his voice dropping into that low, teasing drawl.

"I like the way that sounds, princess."

Shit.

Suddenly, you weren't sleepy anymore.

"Stop looking at me like that, princess, or I'll take you right here."

Wonwoo knew what he was doing.

The man had zero shame when it came to making you blush, and he thrived off of it.

Which is why—when you were in the middle of a crowded restaurant, surrounded by people—he had the audacity to run his hands up your thighs under the table.

Your breath hitched.

"W-Wonwoo—"

He smirked, taking a casual sip of his drink. "Something wrong, princess?"

You shot him a glare, but your face was burning.

"I hate you," you muttered under your breath.

"Liar," he whispered back, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on your skin.

You gulped, shifting in your seat. "We're in public."

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

"Stop looking at me like that, princess," he murmured, voice deep, teasing. "Or I'll take you right here."

Your breath caught.

And the worst part? You knew he meant it.

"I missed you, princess."

The night was quiet, the air cool, the city lights glowing softly through the window.

Wonwoo had been away for a few days—a work trip, nothing major—but God, you had missed him.

And apparently—he had missed you too.

Because the second he got back, he grabbed you by the waist, pulled you into his lap, and buried his face in your neck.

"You good?" you laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

He didn't answer.

Just... held you.

Long. Deep. Like he was soaking in your warmth, grounding himself in your presence.

And then, after a few moments—he whispered against your skin, voice low, hoarse.

"I missed you, princess."

Your heart melted.

You pressed a kiss to his temple. "I missed you too."

His arms tightened around you.

"I know."

"Stay close to me, princess."

Crowds were overwhelming.

Wonwoo didn't care about them much—he was good at blending into the background, unbothered.

But you? You were a whole different story. One talk with a stranger, you'd be friends with them almost too immediately.

Which is why—his arm was always around your waist, keeping you pressed firmly against him.

"Wonwoo, I can walk by myself, you know," you teased, looking up at him.

He just hummed, pulling you closer. "I know."

You rolled your eyes, but secretly?

You loved it.

Because as long as he was there, holding you like this, you never had to worry.

Not about getting lost.

Not about anything.

The night was warm, suffocating with tension, electric with something neither of you could fight.

It started innocent enough.

A late-night drive. The city lights flashing past. His hand on your thigh, firm, possessive, always touching.

You had been teasing him all night. Unintentionally, of course.

Or maybe not.

Because when you leaned in, whispered something soft, something sweet—

He snapped.

Before you could react, he pulled into a secluded parking lot, turned off the engine, and turned to you with dark, burning eyes.

"Out," he ordered, voice low, rough.

Your breath hitched. "Wonwoo—"

"Now, princess."

You gulped. Obeyed.

The second you stepped outside, he was on you.

He pinned you against the car, one hand in your hair, the other gripping your waist, his lips crashing into yours—hot, desperate, consuming.

"You drive me insane," he growled against your mouth, pressing his body against yours, forcing you to feel just how much you affected him.

Your fingers curled into his hoodie, tugging him closer, chasing his warmth, his touch, his everything.

"I need you," you breathed, and that was all it took.

The world disappeared.

Nothing existed except him—the way his hands roamed your body, the way his lips marked your skin, the way he whispered, 'Mine. All mine.'

And when he finally—finally—gave you what you both needed, it wasn't just lust.

It was love.

Raw. Overwhelming. Unshakable.

And as he held you close, forehead pressed to yours, breath uneven but laced with affection—

You knew.

You would never belong to anyone else.

And neither would he.

Your back hit the cool metal of the car. Wonwoo's body pressed against yours, solid, burning, intoxicating.

"You've been teasing me all night," he murmured, trailing kisses down your jaw, his breath hot against your skin.

Your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping when his hands slipped under your dress, fingers skimming up your thighs.

"I wasn't teasing," you whispered, but your voice betrayed you.

Wonwoo chuckled darkly. "Liar."

His fingers dipped between your legs, pressing against the heat that had been building all night.

You squirmed, gripping his hoodie, your body arching into his touch.

"Wonwoo—"

He swallowed your plea with a kiss, deep and desperate, his tongue sliding against yours, stealing every thought from your head.

"Tell me how much you want me."

Your breath hitched as he pushed your panties aside, his fingers stroking slow, deliberate circles that made your knees buckle.

"I—" You gasped, gripping his shoulders. "I want you. Please."

That was all he needed.

With one swift movement, he spun you around, pressing your front against the car, his hands exploring, teasing, making you beg.

"You love being touched like this, don't you?" he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Needy little thing."

You could barely breathe, let alone answer.

And when he finally—filled you, stretching you with a slow, deep thrust—

You shattered.

Your nails scraped against the car's surface, your moans mixing with the night air, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Wonwoo didn't stop.

Didn't slow down.

Didn't let you come down from the high before pulling you back against his chest, one hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

"Open your mouth," he murmured.

You obeyed without thinking—and he kissed you, deep and messy, swallowing your moans as he drove you to the edge again.

"Mine."

His voice was a growl, his arms tightening around you, his thrusts turning erratic, desperate.

And when you finally fell apart with him, gasping, trembling, completely undone—

He didn't let you go.

He held you close, pressed kisses against your skin, whispered against your lips—

"I love you."

And for the first time, you realized—this wasn't just desire.

This was obsession.

This was forever.

The night was warm, suffocating with tension, electric with something neither of you could fight.

It started innocent enough.

A late-night drive. The city lights flashing past. His hand on your thigh, firm, possessive, always touching.

You had been teasing him all night. Unintentionally, of course.

Or maybe not.

Because when you leaned in, whispered something soft, something sweet—

He snapped.

Before you could react, he pulled into a secluded parking lot, turned off the engine, and turned to you with dark, burning eyes.

"Out," he ordered, voice low, rough.

Your breath hitched. "Wonwoo—"

"Now, princess."

You gulped. Obeyed.

The second you stepped outside, he was on you.

He pinned you against the car, one hand in your hair, the other gripping your waist, his lips crashing into yours—hot, desperate, consuming.

"You drive me insane," he growled against your mouth, pressing his body against yours, forcing you to feel just how much you affected him.

Your fingers curled into his hoodie, tugging him closer, chasing his warmth, his touch, his everything.

"I need you," you breathed, and that was all it took.

The world disappeared.

Nothing existed except him—the way his hands roamed your body, the way his lips marked your skin, the way he whispered, 'Mine. All mine.'

And when he finally—finally—gave you what you both needed, it wasn't just lust.

It was love.

Raw. Overwhelming. Unshakable.

And as he held you close, forehead pressed to yours, breath uneven but laced with affection—

You knew.

You would never belong to anyone else.

And neither would he.

Your back hit the cool metal of the car. Wonwoo's body pressed against yours, solid, burning, intoxicating.

"You've been teasing me all night," he murmured, trailing kisses down your jaw, his breath hot against your skin.

Your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping when his hands slipped under your dress, fingers skimming up your thighs.

"I wasn't teasing," you whispered, but your voice betrayed you.

Wonwoo chuckled darkly. "Liar."

His fingers dipped between your legs, pressing against the heat that had been building all night.

You squirmed, gripping his hoodie, your body arching into his touch.

"Wonwoo—"

He swallowed your plea with a kiss, deep and desperate, his tongue sliding against yours, stealing every thought from your head.

"Tell me how much you want me."

Your breath hitched as he pushed your panties aside, his fingers stroking slow, deliberate circles that made your knees buckle.

"I—" You gasped, gripping his shoulders. "I want you. Please."

That was all he needed.

With one swift movement, he spun you around, pressing your front against the car, his hands exploring, teasing, making you beg.

"You love being touched like this, don't you?" he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Needy little thing."

You could barely breathe, let alone answer.

And when he finally—filled you, stretching you with a slow, deep thrust—

You shattered.

Your nails scraped against the car's surface, your moans mixing with the night air, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Wonwoo didn't stop.

Didn't slow down.

Didn't let you come down from the high before pulling you back against his chest, one hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

"Open your mouth," he murmured.

You obeyed without thinking—and he kissed you, deep and messy, swallowing your moans as he drove you to the edge again.

"Mine."

His voice was a growl, his arms tightening around you, his thrusts turning erratic, desperate.

And when you finally fell apart with him, gasping, trembling, completely undone—

He didn't let you go.

He held you close, pressed kisses against your skin, whispered against your lips—

"I love you."

And for the first time, you realized—this wasn't just desire.

This was obsession.

This was forever.

a/n: aeya here ! BELATED HAPPY VALENTINE'S EVERYONE ! i hoped y'all like this because if you did, i already have the part two ready. it's march, and i hope this fanfiction will make up for the long stop i've been. i'm back to being a stranger ig, but hey, count this as a celebration for my 500+ followers. i love yall sm please never stop expressing yourselves from supporting me. also, I PROMISE i will eventually get to y'alls reqs because i love yall too much mwuahhh

2K notes · View notes

sweetiecutie · 1 year ago

Text

🖤Fuck or die🖤

Paring: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dead dove do not eat, non-con so rape, cuckolding, unwilling cheating, oral, facefuck, dick piercing bc I know y’all like it, unprotected sex, blood, murder, gore in the end. This is only fiction, don’t take any of this too seriously! If you feel triggered by any of these tags - just scroll past!

Word count: 4k, holy fucking shit

A/n: not me writing this in one day, jesus fucking christ😮‍💨 It’s first time I wrote something so violent, but I think I did pretty good! Originally planned to post it on halloween night but I’m too eager to share!! Also, I tried my best to fix all mistakes by proofreading it 4 times, I really did, but I’m pretty sure that I left out some still

It’s been very uneasy in a small town where you lived - series of blatant murders shook up all inhabitants with their brutality. Cruelly butchered corpses gave a hint of culprit’s strength, so cops guessed it was a man. And the most terrifying thing about this whole situation was that this maniac was still on loose - he never left any evidences, not a damn thing - nothing that could give a clue of who he was. The only trace he’s ever left wasn’t an accident or his mistake, but a well-planned thing - after appearing nameless in numerous news reports and articles he finally decided to introduce himself, writing KÖNIG with his victim’s blood on white flooring, said victim’s two bloody teeth serving as umlaut.

And his motives behind picking out victims were just as unclear - there was nothing in common between all these people: he didn’t have any preferences in victim’s sex or age, their profession nor appearance - as long as they lived in one family house, to avoid anyone hearing their screams, you figured. It seemed that he simply loved killing, who that was - didn’t matter.

You can’t say how exactly it all happened. It was another evening that you were spending at your boyfriend’s place - Paul’s parents were out of town for a few days for anniversary of their wedding, leaving a huge house for their only son. You felt uneasy - there weren’t any new murders in over a month, people were scared that maniac will go “haunting” very soon, which meant that no one was safe.

Paul only cooed at you soothingly when you shared your worries with him, promising to “protect you from all weirdos out there”, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. So to distract yourselves you decided to throw a movie night - stacking up with snacks and beer, Netflix window opened on a large tv-screen, ready to serve its purpose as you made last preparations.

Cuddled up on the comfy couch, your boyfriend’s comforting warmth slowly seeped into your tense muscles, you watched some corny comedy, groaning in tandem at poorly-made jokes. When suddenly a sound of shattered glass jolted you both up, staring tensely at each other.

- I’ll go check it, - Paul said, getting up and heading to the living room from where the noise came. Everything was quiet for a few long minutes, your fingers fiddled with loose string on the corner of fluffy blanket as you heard some crashing and your boyfriend’s angry shouting:

- Y/n, get out of here!

Then everything was as if in a blur; tall figure clad in all black stepped into the living room, white scream mask contrasting starkly, huge knife covered in thin layer of blood was shining in blue tv-light. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stared at the man in front of you - sticky feeling of fear seemed to fill every muscle in your body with heavy lead, making it impossibly hard to move even an inch. And then something in your head snapped, you threw yourself off the couch and towards the door opposite from killer, but he was way quicker - huge hands gripped you by your shoulders, rising you off your feet easily and dragging you back towards living room, your struggling and screaming did nothing to help.

You were now kneeling in front of this psycho, hands tied up tightly with coarse rope that dug painfully into your soft skin, surely leaving deep indents and dark bruises. Your boyfriend was laying on his side a few meters afar - bound by his wrists and ankles with same rope, crimson blood oozed out of deep stabbing wound in his stomach, nose obviously broken and bleeding - all these a result of his grapple with intruder, which obviously didn’t end in Paul’s favour.

- Please, - you weeped, tears and snot covered all of your face, whole body trembled with fear and adrenaline. - Please, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me, - you managed to choke out, silent cries tore through your chest, their intensity made it hard for you to breathe - you were hysterical.

- Oh, I know you will, sweetheart, - mechanical voice said in mock sympathy. One huge glowed hand came up to cup your chin, causing you to jolt violently upon feeling the contact; murderer tilted your head upwards, your insides churning upon laying your eyes on white plastic of his mask.

His thumb rubbed soft circles on your wet cheek - it was almost ridiculous how gently he touched you. This made you sob even more, but you didn’t dare to turn away, too scared to anger him.

- That would be a shame to kill such a pretty little thing, after all, - maniac said, glove-clad pad of his thumb swiped over your trembling bottom lip, soft cotton absorbing the mixture of your tears and saliva glazing it. - I may have an idea. Wanna hear it?

Silence set in for a few long gut-wrenching seconds which was interrupted only by your quiet sobbing and sounds of your boyfriend struggling against tight ropes. Quiet squeal tore through your chest as huge hand squeezed your cheeks harshly, yanking your face upward, forcing you to look up at König. Your bleary from tears eyes fixed upon two black holes in his mask, where man’s eyes supposedly were.

- I said “wanna hear it”? - slasher gritted out, his tone harsh as he put heavy emphasis on every syllable he uttered, making you shrink even further into yourself. You nodded your head hastily, not wanting to try out your luck any more.

- Y-yes, - you stammered, your voice giving out making your response sound more like a kitten’s squealing rather than human speech. König stared at you for a few long silent seconds, your knees beginning to tremble from both fear and painful exposure to hard flooring, which soon irradiated onto the whole of your body.

- I’ve been watching you guys, you know? For a few weeks now, - he said nonchalantly, his grip on your face loosened, long fingers tracing intricate shapes on your cheeks and temples, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, getting it out of your eyes. A wave of hysterical cries threatened to tear through your throat upon hearing his words, but you tried to suppress them as much as you physically could, staying still before him.

- Yes, - his voice sounded delicate - as if one of those passionate lovers who proclaimed their tender feelings. - Seen you guys do stuff… kiss, cuddle, fuck. A pathetic view, to be honest, - as he said so, his fingers came to tangle in your messy hair, massaging your scalp with soft movements. You felt sick. This man with a dagger bigger than your forearm clasped tightly in one hand, was caressing you so tenderly with another one - his unpredictable behaviour was making your guts churn.

He turned toward your boyfriend who was still thrashing harshly, struggling with all his might against secure confines of tight rope. Your gaze shifted towards your lover as well - the sight made your heart ache - his blood - some already caked and some fresh and shiny - covered the whole bottom of Paul’s face, a makeshift gag out of piece of some fabric was tied skilfully around his head - by the looks of it not to be untied by itself. His eyes met murderer’s, you could make out his muffled promises of killing the bastard, threats to not touch you and to get the fuck out of here. Murderer didn’t look impressed at all, staring silently at your man lying at his feet.

- Look at this pathetic scumbag - I tied your hands loosely, hoped for a bit of a fight, - harsh noise came from the speaker behind the mask, which you figured to be a sigh. König then turned back towards you, his head tilting to the side slightly, you could practically feel his intense gaze prickling on your skin. - Why are you even wasting your time on this piece of shit? He can’t even fuck you right, and you expected this piece of shit to actually protect you from danger? Provide for you?

Hot tears rushed down your cheeks at his words, as you stayed silent, not knowing what to say. König sighed again, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tension in sore muscles, his neck popping loudly, making you jolt at the sound.

- Now, my plan is - how about I show you what a real man is like? Set the bar high for you, hm? - he said, a cool glimmer of blood-stained blade caught your eye as König twirled his knife skilfully in between thick fingers barely twenty centimetres away from your face. He noticed your attention shifting from him to his little tool, softly nudging your chin up to look back at him. - Oh, don’t worry darling. If you’re being a good girl that thing won’t touch you, deal?

You nodded your head frantically, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. - Anything, - you choked out, voice hoarse and barely audible but it was enough for him to hear.

- I like the eagerness, - murderer chuckled, straightening his back from semi-crouching position to stand to his full height. His hand left your face with a small pinch on your tear-stained cheek, tossing his knife from one hand to another as if he was juggling; finally gripping the handle tight König pointed the tip of sharp blade towards your boyfriend: - I want you to watch. You dare closing your eyes and she’s dead.

Your eyes widened in panic, staring fearfully at Paul, mouthing silent “please” at him. Maniac shifted his attention back to you; he put his knife into its holster which was attached to his thigh with tight leather straps, you noted that he didn’t secure the handle, making it easier to pull the knife out in one move if needed.

You watched as if in slow motion how his hands came to the waistband of his black jeans, undoing the button and tugging zipper down, pulling front pants pieces apart. Your gaze darted up towards his mask-covered face, confusion mixed with terror written on your face - your insides dropped as you finally realised what he actually meant.

- What? Doll, I promised to show you what a real man is like, - one big hand came to rest on the crown of your head, not pushing nor pulling, just staying there securely. - Now I warn you, you dare using your teeth - I’ll pluck every single one of them before gutting you like a fucking pig, you get it?

Your breath stopped upon hearing his words, shoulders started shaking as strong bout of adrenaline rushed through your veins, making your poor heart pound crazily, threatening to break your ribs from the inside. You nodded your head vigorously, all of a sudden extremely aware of the tight rope binding your wrists together, how your fingers prickled from constricted blood flow, how much your shoulders ached from being pulled back for so long.

- Good girl. Now, go on, - König said, lightly pushing your head towards his clothed crotch. You had to crane your head up painfully because of the height difference between you two in order to even reach König’s private parts. You gazed up at him, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do, but he just stared down at you silently, not offering any instructions nor comments.

You darted your tongue out, licking a noticeable bulge showing through his boxers, soaking black fabric in your spit. You did it again, and again, fear and adrenaline subduing feelings of humiliation and shame, you could hear your boyfriend’s muffled “get your fucking hands off her”, but König didn’t seem to pay slightest attention to the other male. You tilted your head to the side, pressing your opened mouth to the thick shaft that was trapped between man’s v-line and his tight underwear, sucking on it softly. That made slasher heave a deep sigh, hand on your head tangled deeper in your hair, holding you firmly in place, indicating for you to keep going.

- Now pull my boxers down, - psycho ordered a few seconds later; his voice, though contorted by voice changer, now sounded deeper. You looked frightfully up at him, your hands still bound tightly behind your back.

- But… how? - you asked, a spark of hope igniting in your chest as thought of him untying your hands popped up in your head. But it was extinguished just as quickly as it appeared with his next words:

- Well, think about it, - he shrugged his broad shoulders ever so slightly, your mind racing at the speed of light as you tried to figure out the problem.

You opened your mouth, moving as slowly as you could to indicate that you didn’t mean to do anything reckless - baring your teeth and gently hooking the elastic of his boxers, your canines grazing slightly against warm skin of murderer’s lower stomach. Once you secured your hold on elastic you pulled down on it, managing to slide it down slightly. König’s hard cock sprung right out, standing tall and thick against his clothed stomach - tip was concealed by brownish foreskin, and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Your attention was caught by two symmetrical rows of shiny silver balls running along mighty shaft, glistening coldly is white light of living room’s chandelier.

- Now, doll, that’s what a real good cock looks like, - man said, his free hand came to wrap around thick shaft, pumping it a few times to reveal pink head, a shiny bead of precum sitting in the middle of it. - Open wide, princess. And mind your teeth.

You let your mouth fall open, sticking your tongue out; his cock was standing too high for you to reach it in your kneeling position so König had to guide his length down to your lips, your mouth managing to only take his tip and a little bit more inside.

With your mouth full of other man’s cock your eyes wandered in the direction of your boyfriend; thrashing around seemed to finally exhaust him, crimson blood oozed out of the wound in his stomach. His chest was heaving in tandem with his wheezing breath, angry tears streamed down his temples as he stared with fierce anger at your abuser, the sight made your throat clench, causing you to gag on killer’s hefty length.

- Aw, poor girl is not used to a decent cock, huh? Tell me, did the even reach down to your throat? Lemme guess - he was cumming a few minutes after shoving his pathetic ten centimetres in this precious mouth, wasn’t he? - König chuckled darkly, suddenly pushing down onto your head, forcing you to take half his length down your tight throat, keeping you in place as you choked around his thickness, metal balls were rubbing painfully against the softness of your tongue, irritating sensitive buds of it.

Murderer’s free hand joined the one resting on your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fixating your head in one position. Tears of pain and humiliation rushed down your reddened cheeks as man fucked his massive cock into your tight throat; his pace was erratic, without certain rhythm, making it hard for you to synchronise your breathing with his irregular thrusts. Your lungs burned with lack of air, dainty kneecaps ached from standing for so long on hard flooring, surely bruising your tender skin.

He let go of you only when you actually started to choke, your whole face reddening with exertion; thick strings of spit mixed with precum connected your swollen lips to glistening pink tip, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping down your chin onto the floor below. A choked cry tore through your chest as massive hands manhandled you around, forcing your head down so that your wet cheek was pressed against cold hardwood facing your boyfriend, your back arched and ass up high in the air. König kneeled down behind you, backs of your thighs were touching coarse denim sitting snugly around his legs, cold metal rivets of his holster contrasting brutally with warmth of your skin. Broad palms kneaded on soft pudge of your ass, delivering a strong smack to the swell of your buttcheek, impact softened slightly by the fabric of your shorts and his glove.

Your boyfriend started thrashing as hard as ever, grunting and screaming as much as he could as König pulled your shorts along with your underwear down to your knees, huge hands resting on the bottom part of your ass, thumbs spreading your pussy open. Silent tears ran down from your eyes, gathering in a small puddle on the floor; you heard maniac tut behind your back, a pad of thumb swiped up and down your slit, making you jolt from sudden contact.

- What a shame, - he heaved a deep sigh, straightening his shoulders and looking up at your boyfriend. - She’s wet, dude.

A few small sobs left you upon his words. Paul tried talking back, but a horrible bubbling sound came out of his throat - gag in his mouth was completely red with absorbed blood, some of it oozed down the corners of his mouth, adding to the bloody mess on his face. You sobbed at the sight, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking at horrible picture.

- Turns out our little slut likes it rough, yeah? - König mocked, leaning over your frail form, one meaty forearm rested next to your head, huge chest pressed tightly against your back, overstimulating your thus on age senses. Terrifying mask was barely a few centimetres afar from your face as man whispered right next to your ear: - Did he ever fuck you rough?

His heavy gaze was fixed expectantly upon you, huge hand that still rested on your ass squeezed your flesh painfully, causing you to cringe. - No, - you mouthed, but that was more than enough for him. Slasher hummed in acknowledgment, straightening back into his kneeling position.

- Don’t worry love, I’ll give this pretty pussy what she needs, - psycho said, fisting his leaking cock a few times before aligning swollen tip against your tight entrance. With slow but persistent push of his hips König forced one third of his length inside your poor cunt, fresh dose of hot tears rushed from your eyes, pain of penetration adding to the ache all over your body.

With a sharp snap of his massive hips man forced as much of his cock as it’d go into you. Loud yelp tore through your throat, scratching it painfully; stretch of his girthy cock was too much for your pussy to take, ladder of piercings adding to unpleasant feeling. Tender walls fought against his thick length, such sudden stretch caused your muscles to reflexively constrict around him more, drawing a throaty groan to tumbling out of killer’s broad chest.

- There there, dearie. Poor pussy so used to pathetic cocks, can’t even take me whole, - König said in fake compassion, you felt his length throb within you, twitching a few times. Strong hands held you in place tightly, preventing you from moving your hips even for a millimetre.

Murderer generously allowed you a minute or so for your poor cunny to accommodate to his size before beginning to move his hips in shallow but quick thrusts. Soon enough König was full on fucking into you on rapid pace, your whole body jolting forward with intensity of his mighty thrusts, strong arms yanking you back in place every so often.

One of his deadly hands slithered around your ridiculously smaller form, index and middle fingers danced across your spread around his dick folds, causing your stomach to tense at sudden contact. Free hand yanked you up by the rope binding your wrists, urging you to raise your torso; your shoulder blades were pressed tightly against his heaving chest, warmth emitted off him like a fucking radiator.

Clothed fingertips rubbed tight relentless circles on your clit, causing thick pleasure to rush up and down your spine and your back arch uncontrollably. Your teeth clenched to suppress all the small sounds threatening to spill out of your lips; you felt König’s massive form shift behind you, cold plastic of horrendous mask pressed against the side of your face - he was whispering right into your ear, soft voice real and unchanged:

- I’m gonna slit your fucking throat if you’re not using it, - that caused a shiver to rush down your spine, arising goosebumps in its wake. You moaned out, doing as the murderer wanted, letting all the small sighs and moans flow freely from your lips, your voice lower than usual from all the crying and throatfucking.

Your breathing became shallow; your head just wasn’t working anymore - emotional shock along with physical abuse drained you out of all strength - you were a mere rug doll in psycho’s tight grip, and he could do whatever he pleased with you, you were too exhausted to fight back anyway.

Consciousness started to slip out of your grasp, vision blurred out with tears, dark spots appearing in the corners; König’s throbbing dick pounded your poor pussy mercilessly, thick cockhead nudged against all the sweet spots inside of you, his piercings stimulating you even further as if in spite of all your attempts to resist pleasure psycho was forcing onto you. A tight coil curled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to explode with every harsh snap of mighty hips against your reddened ass. Soaked with your slick fabric of König’s gloves felt overbearing against your clit, his fingers never once stopping to rub your sensitive nub.

A few moments later something deep within you snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit - suddenly the world around you turned white, ringing noise filled your ears as you had the most painful orgasm of your life being wrung out of you; your body quivered and thrashed in serial killer’s strong grip, unintelligible sounds and words poured out of your lips, barely louder than a whisper. And then everything became quiet. Soft velvet of darkness enveloped your bruised and exhausted body; you were drowning in warm waves of sleep, not finding it in yourself to try and fight them off. You gave in happily, trusting yourself in welcoming hands of darkness and quiet, afar from horrible reality, afar from fear and danger.

It felt as if your head was splitting in two - horrible ache settled somewhere deep inside of your brain, pain irradiated from within to the outsides of both hemispheres, causing you to groan in agony quietly in. Your whole body hurt, eyelids felt swollen and heavy even as they were closed; and then suddenly your eyes snapped open.

You were lying on cold hardwood flooring in your boyfriend’s living room, shorts and underwear still pulled down to your knees, but your hands now free from rope. You pulled your bottoms back up, hot tears pooling in your eyes as you let out a choked sob. You felt wretched, disgusting, dirty.

- Paul? - you called out to your boyfriend, the sound of your own voice startling you - hoarse and scratchy, total opposite from your usual octave.

As you turned around your breath got caught up in your chest, bitter ball of bile got stuck in your throat - you felt like you were about to throw up.

Here lay Paul - pale and lifeless, dull eyes staring blankly into nothingness, gag still fixed tightly around his head, now brown with dried out blood. Some of his insides spilled out of the gaping cut across his stomach, lying on the floor in a small heap right next to him, huge puddle of blood spread out on the floor, getting into all small cracks and gapes in wooden flooring.

And on the wall behind, in strange brownish color that looked all too similar to the caked blood on your boyfriend’s face, in sprawling handwriting were words:

SEE YOU SOON ♡

Slasher! König Masterlist

Another a/n: I’m planning on making it a series - let me know what you guys think<3 Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writes some love - we live off feedback<3

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fairyysoup · 5 months ago

Text

the devil i know

chapter two: look here all you want

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie gets your car back. You're trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

cw: deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, depictions of abuse, dark comedy, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Eddie makes sure that the man feels him before he sees him. It may be cruel, but he’s always had a flair for the dramatic– once a Dungeon Master, always a Dungeon Master– and what’s Hell without a little fun and debauchery?

The man smells Eddie’s sickly sweet, smoky aroma first. It’s the first thing anyone notices about him, of course. The shit follows him everywhere, alerting people of his presence like a fucking cat collar with a bell on it. The wind that he conjures always smells at least like a bonfire– at worst, he’s the grand eruption of Mount Vesuvius. He guesses it’s some sort of infernal practical joke (he formed the hellfire club in life, so now he has to remain in it for the rest of time, or some shit. Don’t ask him. He doesn’t know all the answers, just the dumb ones).

Then the man jolts, his eyes flying all around him as he hears Eddie. Or, at least, what Eddie allows him to hear. It begins in whispers, like leviathans in the mists, murmuring and overlapping each other. It rocks slowly toward a crescendo. And then, Eddie’s voice, soft before the man realizes what’s happening to him.

“Found you.”

There’s a sickening crack, and then the windshield of the car explodes beneath the man’s spine. He barrel rolls to the ground to find Eddie looming over him, staring him down, his eyes dead black and unforgiving.

“Hi, Spencer.” The heel of Eddie’s boot crushes against the man’s chest, holding him down. Eddie’s voice is comically musical, like the crackling of brush just beginning to go up in flames. “Busy tonight, are we?”

The man, Spencer, trembles as he stares up at Eddie. Blood tinges his bottom lip, either from biting it when he hit the windshield, or from coughing up whatever blood exists in his fermented body.

He gestures at the duffel bag that he’d been holding when Eddie grabbed him, now laying on the ground. “Look, man– I dunno who you are, b-but you can have all the fuckin’ money, it’s right there–”

“I don’t want your fucking money.” Eddie squints at him, trying to gauge Spencer’s thoughts. They’re malicious, yes, but not murderous. He robbed the liquor store down the street, and then he pulled into the motel around the corner to try to check in with the money. He’s dangerous and stupid, but he’s not a killer. Yet.

Eddie didn’t have to read the guy’s mind to know that, though.

“Whose car is this?”

“What?”

“Whose–” Eddie digs his boot harder into the guy’s chest– “Car?”

“Some fuckin’ small town whore, how should I know?” Now is not the time to play coy. Spencer learns that when Eddie’s foot shoots forward, and the toe of his book connects ungraciously with his chin. Pain rockets through his jaw. “Fuck!”

“Save it.” Eddie’s temper has grown exponentially with his immortality, he thinks. He wonders sometimes if he’d always been this way, or if Hell has just made him worse. Probably both. “Do you have any idea who you’ve stolen from?”

He’s seen the memory– Spencer, drunk off his ass and running on blind adrenaline from robbing a corner store, stole your car from the parking lot of a diner; the diner where you work.

You had to walk home in the rain. Eddie’s heart practically aches, watching you come home to an empty apartment, dirty and wet and shivering. He never wants to see it happen to you again as long as you live. He’s promised you that it won’t.

He also promised they’ll get as good as they gave. And demon or not, Eddie Munson never ever goes back on a promise.

“Hell, I stole from lotsa people,” Spencer chuckles, his head sliding back and forth across the pavement as he rolls his eyes, gargling on the blood in his mouth. “F’yer here to collect, y’can just take the money and go. I ain’t got nothin’ else.”

“Oh, but you do, Spence.” Eddie grins with sharp teeth when he bends down to pick Spencer up by his throat. The flames in his eyes burst to life, roaring red and demonic. A flash of recognition crosses Spencer’s face when he realizes that Eddie is far more than he seems. “See, you stole from my girl. Now you get to suffer.”

Eddie was always intimidating. He made himself appear like that to push people away, until it started to backfire on him, and then it just got worse when he became a demon. It’s a natural instinct for humans to shrink away. He emanates danger, even when he’s not putting on a show– even when his eyes are dark and he isn’t producing fire from his hands.

That’s one of the things that sealed your fate. You didn’t shrink away from him, even when he tested you. He’s always been a show off, and he’s very egotistical, he won’t lie. He gave you a little taste of his dark side, showed you his hellfire and brimstone, and you called him hot. To his face.

Well, you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Even if he wasn’t already sold on you, there was absolutely no way he was letting you go after that.

Eddie dumps Spencer on the ground. In Spencer’s head, the haunting voices seem to crash back raucously as magma boiling at the lip of a volcano. A chill sweeps through Spencer’s body as it retreats, as he feels the creeping panic rising in him, the ringing in his ears. Then, as soon as it fades, it’s again overthrown by the chorus, the cacophony of behemoth voices. Overlapping each other, humming along with the slow heartbeat of the drums.

It’s the arc toward the end of the death metal album Eddie wanted to write during his lifetime, but never got the chance to. It has to be good for something, even if Spencer is never going to appreciate Eddie’s musical genius.

Spencer doesn’t need to know that, though.

Spencer lays trembling, his hands clapped tight around his ears. Nothing will stop it, save time– and by then, Spencer will probably be wishing Eddie had just killed him and gotten it over with.

Eddie steps around Spencer’s body, sighing. If Hell has made him cruel, it’s also made him weirdly just. Great power, great responsibility… all that jazz.

Yeah, the powers are pretty fucking cool, he won’t lie about that.

The windshield of the car decompresses itself at Eddie’s touch, the glass creaking and groaning as it fits back into proper shape. From there, it glows bright orange and melts back into one solid pane of glass, back in the way that it had been before Spencer’s back played Happy New Year with it.

Eddie sits in the driver’s seat, his fingers nearly denting the steering wheel where he grips it. He just hopes that you don’t freak out when he gets your car back to you.

You freak out.

Granted, you only made the deal with Eddie yesterday, and you had a long day at work. For you, the afternoon had been painfully slow. Maybe it was a good thing that the diner doesn’t have a major rush every single lunch service, but it just means more of the shit work that your newbie manager, Colin, loves to give to you now that he has the authority to. You don’t know if it’s payback for you making him slice bread during his training, but he’s taking it a little bit too seriously.

You’re technically a waitress, so it’s really not in your fucking job description, but tonight he made you clean the men’s bathroom.

Did you know how many men will just ejaculate onto the wall of the men’s bathroom in a small town diner? No. But now you do, and the answer is too many.

You had to walk home, as per usual since your car was stolen a little less than a week ago. And then you got to your apartment complex, got to the last place on the last row of buildings, and your fucking car was there, in your parking space. Beautiful and gleaming and with fresh license plates.

You’re freaking out. You absolutely are– you didn’t think it was going to happen this quickly. You figured there must be some kind of wait period. Demons aren’t obligated to make shit happen right away, are they?

(They’re not. But this demon could care less.)

When you get inside, all it takes is a single whiff of smoke to deduce that he’s there. In your apartment. With all the lights turned off. You flick one on and find nothing.

“Eddie?” You say his name out loud for the first time, your voice muddled with awe. The faintest of murmurs, but to him you may as well have screamed it.

The lights flicker, and in a flash he’s standing before you. Across the room, leaning against the door to the bedroom like a vision. His eyes crackle with fire, a coy smirk on his face. “I like the way you say my name. It’s pretty.”

You startle, your body suddenly functioning apart from your mind. Your back hits the front door you’ve just stepped through, mirroring him.

“Whoa whoa whoa– hey! It’s okay.” He holds his hands out toward you, palms up, like you’re a frightened animal. In a way, you are. “We’ve been through this before, princess. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m just your friendly neighborhood demon.”

Eddie reminds himself to stop rewatching Spider-Man every time he gets a chance.

It has to be fake, you think. You’re exhausted, he couldn’t be here. And yet the room is filled with his fragrance, suffocating and somehow intoxicating. Like you might die from it but you’ll enjoy it all the same. It’s so magnetic that it nearly pulls you to him, taking a hesitant step forward toward the bedroom and then stopping short.

“How– you’re not– how are you here?” You ask him as softly as you can manage. “I thought you could only show up at a crossroads.”

“Not everything is literal, sweetheart.” He thumps his hand against the door behind him, giving you a dazed smile. “Points of entry and departure. Two paths meeting. Crossroads.”

“Huh.”

Eddie takes in the sight of you steadily, calmly, worried that if he moves too suddenly then you might disappear. You’re wearing a black, retro-style waitress’ dress and running shoes– muddy from your walk home. You clutch your house keys to your chest almost instinctively.

That reminds him of the reason that he’s here– not just to check you out, unfortunately. He brandishes your car keys, dangling them from one crooked finger. “Brought you your car.”

“Yeah, I, uh… I noticed.” After a heavy beat, you look away. Your voice is thick with tears– you’re crying. “Sorry. Thank you. I didn’t, um– I didn’t mean to offend–”

“Hey– You didn’t.” Eddie doesn’t know what to do with your tears– he doesn’t want to see you cry, ever, but he’s spent a little too much time causing tears to know how to effectively stop them anymore. He places the keys on the counter nearest him, leading into the kitchen. “I know, it’s not what you’re used to.”

“It’s not,” you agree. “It’s nice.”

Eddie rocks back against the door, pressing into it. The wood creaks under his weight. “Nice,” he echoes. “Haven’t been called that in a while. It’s… nice.”

You snort, and it’s enough to have him grinning all over again. You turn away slightly, and when you turn back you smile at him sheepishly. Trying to suck back the tears that had sprung forth so quickly. “How did you get the car back?”

He squints. He thinks to remind you that he has magic, something that a normal person wouldn’t be able to use– except, he didn’t just poof it into your parking space. He drove it, like a dumbass.

He clicks his tongue. Be cool. “I had a talk with the guy who stole it. He won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

“Oh my god– you killed him?”

Not that cool. “No! No, I– I would nev–” you’re a demon– “I would seriously consider the consequences–”

“This is unbelievable.”

“Hey, I got you the car back. Without killing! Even though it took so so so much impulse control, please clap.” He tilts his head and grins at you. He figures he probably looks insane with his glowing eyes and cheshire cat smile.

You nod and take a calculated step forward. You point at the open wine bottle on your kitchen counter. “I’m getting a drink.”

He shrugs. “You own the place.”

“No, I don’t,” you scoff, approaching him. The scent of smoke grows stronger with each step, until you’re engulfed in it. “I pay rent up the ass because I can’t afford any place else.”

Eddie watches you pour a glass of wine with the interest of a collector looking at a piece of fine art. “What would you prefer?”

The air hangs thick with implication. What do you want me to do? Eddie holds the edge of the counter with his ringed fingers, watching your brow screw up in contemplation. He wants to reach forward and smooth it over with his thumb, get rid of any worries you might have.

He’s a sorry son of a bitch, is what he is.

“What I want–” you stop, your eyes falling to his hand. You stare at it for a long time. Hard knuckles that you’re sure have drawn blood, clunky rings like weapons. You wonder why he keeps them there indefinitely, why he chooses those accessories, keeps this form. He’s intimidating, dangerous-looking, and yet you feel a weird sort of comfort around him.

He’s the most dangerous thing in any room, and he’s asking what you want.

You look up into the demon’s smoldering eyes, and take a breath. “What I need is to not take home pocket change, because my shithead manager won’t stop skimming my tips. Y’know I trained the fucker?” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah. Piece of shit won’t stop giving me crap work just because he can, and I’m– I’m–”

Eddie wordlessly nudges the wine glass towards you with the tip of his finger. You grab it and take a long gulp.

You sort of stutter and cough, trying to catch your breath when your tears of exhaustion keep wanting to spill. You’re furious. You’re so fucking angry that it’s vibrating in your bones, threatening to wither and crack them under its force. You start breathing in heavy, short bursts of air that don’t do much to calm you down at all.

“I’m barely making enough to cover my rent even with my tips,” you continue. “But now he’s stealing them and I’m having to skip breakfast to save food and I can’t find another job because the people in this town fucking hate me–”

A warm hand settles onto your back, heavy between your shoulder blades. A little bit of the tension in your shoulders melts and releases, but along with it comes the tears you were holding back. You shiver, leaning further into his touch as though it’ll ground you. Your sinuses are sore and your eyes sting as hot tears slide down your cheeks, but you let Eddie hold you up.

“Want me to kill that guy for you?” Eddie smirks when you cough out a little laugh that sounds more like a hiccup, but he’ll take it. “What? I’m so fucking serious. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you anymore. What kind of a demon daddy would I be if I did?”

“Shut up.” You bat his chest with the back of your hand. He chuckles, and the sound is as warm and soothing as his hand on your back. Your lip wobbles, your brow screwing up as you try to even out your voice, but you just come out sounding like you’ve got something stuck in your throat. “What are you, a genie with three wishes? I tell you my sorrows and you snap your fingers and fix it?”

“You get a lot more than three with me, sweetheart,” Eddie promises. His eyes are unwavering, his hand stroking lightly back and forth between your shoulders in a way that has you hypnotized, leaning towards him. “And it may take more than just snapping my fingers, but yes. I’ll do it for you.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re married, baby.” He holds your gaze gently, hoping not to upset you any further. “‘Til death do we part,’ right? We’re a team now. Your needs, my needs. That’s why you signed the contract. That’s why I gave you this.” Eddie’s warm hand ghosts over your wrist, and the mark that bears his name seared into your skin. The mark tingles, itching with recognition at his touch. “Just say the word and it’s yours.”

You’re still crying. Big, glossy tears falling down your cheeks, making him falter. He’s floundering. He doesn’t know how to make them stop, and the more he tries to get you to tell him, the harder they’re falling. You aren’t hyperventilating anymore, thank fuck, but you’re still quietly sobbing, and you’re not telling him what he needs to know.

Eddie tries searching for it. Squints at you, tries reaching into your mind to find what you need– sort of the same way that he saw the memory of you and the fucker who stole your car. All he gets is one repetitive thought, spinning around in the forefront of your mind.

Hold me. Hold me. Hold me.

“C’mere,” he tells you softly. Eddie reaches forward, turning you slowly by the shoulder until you’re facing him. He watches your face for any kind of disgust– there’s nothing, save the big tears that keep falling.

He pulls on your shoulder, just barely, and you crumple. You face plant into his chest and take a deep, shuddering breath that rattles in your lungs and tastes like a campfire. Eddie is warm as a space heater and his arms are strong, wrapped around you tightly to keep you from falling.

Eddie holds you until he feels you stop crying. He thinks. Maybe you’re still crying, but it isn’t shaking your entire body anymore, and he feels like that’s a move in the right direction.

“Just say the word,” he speaks into your hair, just loud enough for you to hear. A timid hand comes up to pet the back of your head. He hasn’t held someone like this in ages. “I can try to read your mind, but then I get the wrong idea, and you won’t like what I’ll do. I’m willing to do anything for you, honest. But y’gotta tell me, baby.”

You hesitate, and then you pull back, puckering your lips in a way that distracts him. He fixates on them, tilting his head as he watches the way they move. Remembering how they felt on his own when he kissed you last night. He hasn’t kissed someone in ages, either.

“No killing Colin,” you conclude, knocking him out of his reverie. He groans. “I’m serious! He’s a dick, but I don’t want that on my conscience. Please, Eddie.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“No.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, pouting and stomping his feet. “But you wouldn’t feel that way if you saw the kind of torture we can whip out in ye olde Hell. Make your skin crawl right the fuck off. Ooh! That’s actually a good idea–”

“Maybe, sometime.” You shake your head. “But not now. Just… get him to quit. Or something. Okay?”

Your hand presses into Eddie’s chest. It feels like a blast straight into his infernal heart. His eyes fall to it, taking in the willing touch that you give him and letting it define his entire being for a second.

Oh, he’s in trouble. He’s really, really done for.

“Okay, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

His kiss is a ghost of a touch on your cheek, just barely a whisper of skin on skin. Just enough to make you gasp and nearly turn your head, to lock his lips with yours. You practically fight the urge to do it. Your heartbeat kicks up– not for the reason you think it should, either. You aren’t scared. He doesn’t make you nervous– at least, not in an uncomfortable way.

You want Eddie to press his lips to yours, and you want him to hold you again. You want him to stay indefinitely. Make a home on your couch and hold you in his lap all night. You think that if you asked him, he might do it. Anything you want, right?

But he pushes away from the kitchen counter, and he’s gone as quickly as he appeared, in a rush of air carrying his scent. With a sigh, you sink back on your heels, finding yourself wishing that his arms were still there around you, to catch you before you fall.

You lift your glass of wine to your lips. The imprint of his name still itches on your wrist.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #tdik!fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #demon!eddie munson #demon!eddie #roses*

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fandomtrumpshate · 2 months ago

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Unlisted Fandom Challenge 2025— on your marks, get set, GO!

Not that you need any encouragement — we've got almost as many write-in fandoms now (not even THREE DAYS into signups) as we did in total last year! There are currently 158 write-in fandoms. 158.

And if your fandom isn't here ... we'd love you to sign up as a creator and add it! We're ready to set new records, so let's do this.

This post will include the WHOLE LIST of write-in fandoms. Under the cut because 158 fandoms = very long post. Future Unlisted Fandom Challenge updates will feature portions of the list and info about the rest.

Ready? Okay then:

6 Jeff Satur - Music Videos 4 Control (Remedy Game) 4 Zhen Hun / Guardian (drama and novel) 3 Cabin Pressure 3 Dungeon Meshi 3 Fire Emblem Awakening 3 Fire Emblem Fates 3 Roswell New Mexico 3 Schitt's Creek 3 The Goblin Emperor Series - Katherine Addison 3 Transformers 3 Zhen Hun / Guardian (drama) RPF 2 Animorphs 2 BBC Ghosts 2 Biggles Series — W. E. Johns 2 Binan Koukou Chikyuu Boueibu (Cute High Earth Defense Club) franchise 2 Cherry Magic 2 Dangan Ronpa 2 Dead Boy Detectives RPF 2 Detective Conan 2 Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast) 2 Five Nights at Freddy's - All Media 2 Inception 2 Iron widow 2 Kingdom Hearts 2 Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury 2 Sailor Moon 2 The Blue Wolves of Mibu 2 The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (TV series) 2 The Poppy War 2 Tiger & Bunny 2 Tower of God 2 Voltron: Legendary Defender 2 What We Do In The Shadows 2 ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 / JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken / JoJo's Bizarre Adventure 1 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) 1 Alien Stage 1 Among Us 1 Arctic Monkeys/The Last shadow Puppets 1 Avatar: Legend of Korra 1 Baseball RPF 1 BBC’s Musketeers 1 Beyond Evil 1 Black Doves 1 Boygenius (Band)(RPF) 1 Bridgerton (TV) 1 Brokeback Mountain 1 Bullet train 1 Canji Baojun De Zhangxin Yu Chong (The disabled tyrant's pet palm fish) 1 Cassette Beasts 1 Castle 1 Challengers 1 Charmed (1998) 1 Conclave (2024) 1 Danger Force (TV) 1 Dead by Daylight 1 Descendants 1 Destiny 2 1 Digimon 1 Dimension 20 1 Dishonored 1 Dishonored 1 1 Downton Abbey 1 Dr. Stone 1 Dragonriders of Pern by Anne McCaffrey 1 Emma - Jane Austen 1 Fangs of Fortune 1 Flight Rising 1 Formula 2/3 RPF 1 Ghosts (BBC or American) 1 Grantchester (TV) 1 Gravity Falls 1 Grimm 1 Happy Ending (Thailand TV 2025) 1 Hatoful Boyfriend 1 Haven (TV) 1 Helluva Boss 1 Henry Danger (TV) 1 High School Musical (Movies) 1 Hikaru no Go 1 HLVRAI - Half-life VR But the AI is Self-Aware 1 In Stars And Time 1 IndyCar RPF 1 It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia 1 Jeeves and Wooster 1 Jet Lag The Game RPF 1 Kane and Feels 1 Kraven the Hunter 1 Kuroko no Basuke / Kuroko's Basketball 1 Law & Order 1 Law & Order: Special Victims Unit 1 Lies of P 1 Live A Live 1 Lord Seventh/Qi Ye 1 Lovecraft Mythos 1 Lucifer (tv) 1 Mass Effect 1, 2 or 3 1 Mononoke (2007 series and 2024 movie) 1 MotoGP RPF 1 My Time at Sandrock 1 NBA RPF 1 Nirvana in Fire (琅琊榜) 1 Norah Grant Bruce's Billabong books 1 Oh No! Here Comes Trouble 1 Omniscient Reader 1 Once Upon A Time 1 Order of the Stick 1 Outlast games 1 Over the Garden Wall 1 Pacific Rim 1 Pathologic 1 Persuasion - Jane Austen 1 Pirates of the Caribbean 1 Power Rangers (2017 movie) 1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen 1 Princess Tutu 1 Prodigal Son 1 Puella Magi Madoka Magica 1 Quantum Break 1 Resident Alien 1 Resident Evil 1 S.C.I Mystery 1 S.W.A.T. (2017 show) 1 She-Ra Netflix 1 Shipwrecked Comedy 1 Slow Horses 1 Sonic the Hedgehog (Games) 1 South Park 1 Spinning Silver (Novik) 1 Squid Game 1 Starkid Musicals (no hp) 1 Stephen King's It 1 Stray Gods: The Roleplaying Musical 1 Super Sentai 1 The A Team (either the 2010 movie or the 1980s series) 1 The Coffin of Andy and Leyley 1 The OC 1 The Pairing - Casey McQuiston 1 The Paradise of Thorns 1 The Umbrella Academy 1 the vampire diaries universe 1 The Venture Maidens 1 The West Wing 1 The X-Files 1 Thousand Autumns 1 Tron 1 Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles 1 Turning 1 Universal Century Gundam 1 Valdemar Series by Mercedes Lackey 1 video games by Arkane Studios 1 Voltron 1 Wander Over Yonder 1 Watcher Entertainment/BuzzFeed Unsolved RPF 1 White Collar 1 Wind Breaker 1 Wonka 1 Word of Honor 1 X-Files

WHEW! That's a long list! And we'd love to see it get longer :)

If you're thinking of signing up and want to write in your fandom, we encourage you to make a promo post to grab the attention of others in your fandom so they come sign up, too. If you've already written in your fandom and want to see the number of signups grow ... we encourage you to create a fandom promo as well! We have an image generator you can use to add bling to your promo, or browse the 'fth promo reblog 2024' tag for inspiration.

And a quick request — if you are copying the name of your fandom over from the AO3 tags and it contains the | character, please change it to a /. The scripts and sheets in the back end of FTH do not like the | character.

#fth 2025 #unlisted fandom challenge

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chthonic-sorcery · 7 months ago

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PSA for new Pagans❗️🚩🚩🚩

(Overlooked pagan holidays)

Paganism isn't a singular religion,

it is an umbrella term for thousands of different pre-christian polytheistic faiths that span Antiquity. Heathenry (Norse polytheism) Mesopotamian, Phonecian, Hellenic Polytheism, Kemeticism/Netjerism, Slavic Polytheism, Celtic, Roman, Basque, etc. It goes on and on. Sometimes, these religions are even combined or synchronized, like Greco-Egyptian polytheism.

So, no, not all pagans celebrate Yule, or Beltane, or whatever.

Yule itself seems to be more of a Wiccan (new age) revival than a continued tradition.

There are quite literally thousands of holidays and traditions celebrated that no one talks about because people, especially newer converts, seem to believe paganism is its own singular religion.

So, here are some of my favorite holidays I celebrate that aren't usually talked about:

The Anthesteria:

A 3 day drunken celebration in honor of Dionysus and the Dead. Houses would be decorated with spring flowers, ghosts swept from the home; feasting and drinking no matter your status, and offerings given to the Dead and the Furies so that may not harm you, as they were said to roam the earth at this time.

Tar/pitch was also spread onto doorframes and black hellebore was hung to protect the home.

It was held each year from the 11th to the 13th of the month of Anthesterion, around the time of the first full moon of the year.

The Haloea:

The closest Greek equivalent of "Yule" celebrating the winter solstice and which honored Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, crops, fertility, and harvest.

During the festival, people would celebrate by preparing a rich meal with dough cakes in the shape of genitalia, telling lusty jokes and swearing with vulgarity, singing, drinking, and dancing.

The festival took place in Athens and ended in Eleusis during the month of Poseideon, which is December.

The Dionysia:

where plays originated! Comedy, tragedy, and drama.

The Festival of Dionysus, otherwise known as the “Greater Dionysia” took place in the spring (around our March) when playwrights would compete to entertain Athenian citizens,

complete with parades of giant phalluses and sacrifices of bulls!

The Feat of Sekhmet:

an annual festival at the beginning of the year, which began around August for the Egyptians following Wep Ronpet, or the New Year.

The festival was a time of drunkeness with red beer and wine, where Egyptians would dance, play music.

The goal was to imitate the drunkenness that had once stopped the goddess Sekhmet from destroying humanity.

According to Egyptian mythology, Sekhmet became so bloodthirsty from humanity betraying her father Ra, that she nearly destroyed all humans on Earth. The other deities asked Ra to stop her, and he eventually pacified her by making her believe the wine or beer was blood and she drank herself to sleep, turning into either Hathor or Bastet.

the Aphrodisia:

The festival of Aphrodite! The festival occurred during the month of Hekatombaion, which modern scholars recognize as starting from the third week in July to the third week of August.

the first ritual of the festival would be to purify the temple with the blood from a dove, the sacred bird of Aphrodite. Afterwards, worshipers would carry sacred images of the goddess, as well as Peitho, in a procession to be washed.

During the festival it was not permitted to make bloody sacrifices, since the altar could not be polluted with the blood of the sacrifice victims, which were usually white male goats.

This of course excludes the blood of the sacred dove, made at the beginning of the ritual to purify the altar. In addition to live male goats, worshipers would offer fire, flowers, and incense.

This was even celebrated in Thebes, Egypt, where Aphrodite had a large cult following.

Wep Ronpet:

Wep Ronpet is the Kemetic New Year.

It falls usually somewhere btwn late July and mid-August. The date for Wep Ronpet varies each year, as it is marked by the rising of Sopdet, modernly known as Sirius. Wep Ronpet is in fact one day long.

However, there are 5 days of excitement leading up to Wep Ronpet that we typically call the Epagomenal Days, or the Intercalary Days.

The Epag. days came about from a myth where Nut got pregnant with 5 kids. Ra got upset about this and forbade her from giving birth on any day of the year. Thoth, being the tricky guy that he is played a game of Senet with the moon, and upon winning this game of Senet, he received a small portion of the moon which he used to create an extra 5 days which she can use to birth her five children.

Traditionally, these days are said to be a little weird because they are ‘outside of the norm’. Usually great care was taken not to take too many risks.

So, each day is dedicated to the god that was born on that particular day. The order that it goes in is:

Osiris

Heru-wer (Horus the Elder)

Set

Aset

Nebhet (Nephthys)

Normally, celebrations of Wep Ronpet include prayers to Sekhmet against the 7 arrow or plagues of the year: libations and offerings to the Netjeru, song, dance, feast.

Ritual bathing for purification is sometimes done afterwards.

Personally, I like to perform execration, banishing all the illness, negativity and harm from the previous and coming year.

#ancient history #hellenic pagan #paganism #paganblr #psa #polytheism #Greco egyptian polytheism #ancient greece #pagan community #dionysus #aphrodite #sekhmet #new year #hellenic polytheism #hellenic deities #hellenic polythiest #helpol

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flowerchild28 · 3 months ago

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Black and White

Louis Tomlinson imagine

Warnings: fluff

1.3k

The Beginning

The coffee shop buzzed with quiet chatter, but you were focused on your laptop, the untouched cappuccino beside you cooling quickly.

Louis entered, scanning for a seat. His usual spot was taken, so he hesitated before approaching your table. “Mind if I sit here?” he asked with a small smile.

Startled, you nodded. “Sure.”

You quickly returned to your work, but his presence was impossible to ignore. After a few moments, he broke the silence. “Work stuff?”

You looked up, flustered. “Yeah, kind of.”

The conversation started awkwardly but soon grew natural. He was charming, witty, and had a knack for making you laugh. Days turned into weeks, and his presence at the coffee shop became routine. He'd sit across from you, making every mundane detail seem interesting.

One chilly afternoon, Louis leaned back, his gaze softer than usual. “I keep coming here for the coffee… but mostly for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

He nodded. “I’d like to spend more time with you. If you’re up for it.”

A smile spread across your face. “I’d like that.”

And just like that, the start of something beautiful began.

A Year In

It had been a year since that first coffee shop conversation, and the warmth between you and Louis had only grown. Tonight, you were curled up on the couch, sharing a blanket and a bowl of popcorn as a romantic comedy played on the TV.

Louis laughed at the over-the-top wedding scene on screen, nudging you playfully. “Think you’d ever go for something like that? A big, dramatic entrance, doves flying everywhere?”

You smirked, tossing a popcorn kernel at him. “Please, I’d trip walking down the aisle. And doves? They’d probably attack someone.”

“Noted,” he said, grinning. “Low-key wedding it is. I’ll wear sneakers.”

“Wait, you’re planning our wedding now?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, his blue eyes sparkling. “Maybe. You’d look pretty good in white, though.”

The comment hung in the air for a moment, light yet full of meaning. You laughed, trying to play it off, but your cheeks flushed.

“Well,” you said, nudging him back, “you better make sure you don’t trip either. I’d hate to marry someone with a bruised nose.”

Louis chuckled, pulling you closer. “Deal. But only if you’re the one at the end of the aisle.”

The future suddenly felt closer than ever.

Kitchen dances

The late afternoon sunlight poured through the window as Louis wandered into the kitchen, drawn by the faint sound of music and the scent of something cooking. There you were, in the middle of the floor, twirling and singing along to Black and White by Niall Horan, completely lost in the moment.

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. He waited until you hit the high note with exaggerated passion before chiming in.

“Didn’t know I was dating a backup singer for Niall.”

You froze mid-spin, whipping around to see him watching you with amusement. “Louis!” you exclaimed, yanking out an earbud, your face instantly flushing. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to know you’re really into this song,” he teased, stepping closer. “What’s the deal? Secretly a big fan of his or something?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Oh my God, this is so embarrassing. He’s your friend!”

Louis chuckled, gently prying your hands away. “Relax, love. I think it’s cute.”

“It’s just… it’s such a good song,” you admitted, your cheeks still warm. “I love, love, love it. The lyrics, the vibe—everything about it feels so perfect.”

He tilted his head, his grin widening. “So, you’re telling me you’ve been having a little Niall concert in here every time I’m not home?”

“Maybe,” you muttered, crossing your arms but unable to hide your smile.

Louis couldn’t stop laughing now, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you into a spin. “You know I have to tell him, right? ‘Hey, mate, my girlfriend’s your number one kitchen dancer.’”

“No, you absolutely do not,” you said, poking his chest, but your laughter betrayed you.

“Alright, alright,” he said, smirking. “But only if you admit that, as good as the song is, you’d pick dancing with me over Niall’s voice any day.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Fine, you win. You’re the better dance partner.”

“Damn right I am,” he quipped, swaying with you in time to the music still playing softly from your headphones.

The Wedding

The venue was a dream—an open garden bathed in the golden light of early evening. Fairy lights twinkled in the trees, casting a soft glow over rows of friends and family, all waiting eagerly. At the altar, Louis stood in a navy suit that perfectly fit his cheeky yet charming demeanor. His trademark grin softened into something deeper as he fiddled with his tie, sneaking glances down the aisle.

Then the music began.

Every head turned as you stepped into view, your dress flowing gracefully, your smile nervous yet radiant. Louis froze, his breath catching in his chest. For a split second, the world seemed to hold its breath too. As you reached him, your hand found his, his touch grounding you.

“You’re lucky I didn’t trip,” you whispered, a playful glint in your eye.

“You’d still be the most stunning person here,” he murmured, squeezing your hand.

The officiant welcomed everyone, setting the stage for a ceremony filled with love and laughter. When it came time for the vows, Louis went first, his voice steady but brimming with emotion.

“Y/N, I knew I was in trouble the second I saw you in that coffee shop. You were too focused, too smart, and way too good at ignoring me.” The guests laughed, and Louis smirked. “But you let me sit with you, and that one moment changed everything.

“In the past year, you’ve made my life brighter, my jokes funnier because you actually laugh at them, and my kitchen dances so much better. I promise to keep making you laugh, to save you the last slice of pizza—even if it kills me—and to always remind you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you, endlessly.”

You laughed through your tears, shaking your head at his perfect mix of humor and heart. Taking a deep breath, you began your vows.

“Louis, from the moment you scared me half to death by asking to share my table, you’ve been unforgettable. You’ve made every day feel special—whether it’s with your silly jokes, your endless support, or that ridiculous way you sing Niall’s songs off-key just to annoy me.” Louis raised a brow, grinning as the crowd laughed.

“But more than that, you’ve made me feel safe, seen, and loved in ways I didn’t know I needed. I promise to always dance in the kitchen with you, to put up with your terrible driving directions, and to remind you every day how much you mean to me. I love you, endlessly.”

The officiant pronounced you husband and wife, and as Louis dipped you for a dramatic, laughter-filled kiss, the crowd erupted in cheers.

Later at the reception, just as you thought the night couldn’t get any better, Louis grabbed a microphone, flashing that mischievous grin. “Alright, love, I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

Before you could ask, the lights dimmed, and a familiar voice filled the room. Niall Horan himself strolled onto the stage with a guitar in hand.

Your jaw dropped as he smiled at you. “Heard this one’s your favorite,” he said, winking.

The opening chords of Black and White filled the air, and Niall’s soulful voice swept through the crowd. Louis pulled you onto the dance floor, holding you close as you swayed to the song.

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked up at him. “You did this for me?”

“Of course,” he said, his voice warm. “Anything for the girl who makes me believe in forever.”

I hope you like it. If got a lot of requests lately and im trying my best to write them as fast as possible.

#louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson imagine #louis tomlinson fluff #louis tomlinson imagines #one direction #louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson x you #self ship imagine #imagine #niall horan #niall horan imagine #louis tommo #tommo way

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takami-takami · 1 year ago

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Like Idiots.

includes— hawks x reader. fluff. minors dni.

warnings— gn!reader. pining like idiots. keigo is a pain in the ass. the reader is worse. i had fun with this. <3

There is zero need for Keigo to make a confession when it comes to his crush. It would be entirely redundant to confess.

Your sigh at the thought is palpable. It really is quite a shame.

Part of you yearns for that passionate drama of an ending, where in some novela-inspired twist of fate, your adoring knight is forced to spill his love at your feet. In your daydreams— the ones dreadfully reminiscent of some lovelorn teenager's— a faceless villain from fuck-all-nowhere nearly ends the life of his beloved hero partner.

And the words spill from his throat like his lovesick sobs, clutching you close to his chest while you do your best to pretend you're not biting back a smile at the attention.

"I love you! I've always loved you," he'd cry.

Or something like that.

And you'd kiss, and sparks would fly, or whatever.

End scene.

You're not getting that confession, though.

It figures your love life would turn out to be a comedy. Par for the course of your life, you suppose.

Instead of a scrawled letter sealed with wax or a poem whispered under the imposing moonlight, your confession is written all over Keigo's face— well, not all over, exactly. Every centimeter of his face conceals his emotions meticulously, flawlessly.

Every portion of his face is perfectly practiced and impeccably controlled; except for two measly little points.

You prod at your food again with your fork in hand, all frowns as you sit across from your work partner in a booth at the diner he likes to drag you to on your lunch breaks.

And you stare uncomfortably into the most cartoonishly blown pupils you've ever seen.

"Um. Hawks?"

"Yeah? What's up, chickadee," he asks sincerely before chomping down messily on a battered chicken drum, moaning and letting his eyes fall shut as he does with every meal— typically an obstacle for your focus, this accidentally whorish display is actually a welcome reprieve from your racing thoughts.

When his eyes flutter open once more, you're faced once again with black saucers and the sound of reckless chewing. His pupils are still dilated like a cat tripping balls on the dealer's finest catnip.

"Hawks, I really think I should tell you that—"

Your intervention is rudely interrupted by a waitress in a 50's style apron and folded paper hat combo, likely rushing over notepad in hand to get first dibs on serving a celebrity.

You would prefer to be unfair. It'd be easier to displace your frustration for your lot in life onto this poor woman, to tell her that her hat looks stupid and pink isn't her color, that she should really just stop trying.

You decide to be an adult.

Keigo, on the other hand, does not. Like a child given free reign to order for himself at a restaurant for the first time, he explains that she should really heap on the sugar for his coffee.

"No, no, no. More than that. Like syrup. I want it to taste like it's gonna put me in an early grave and— wait, where are you going?"

The debacle brings to attention another phenomenon that you've grown accustomed to seeing:

The second his gaze meets her's, Keigo's pupils shrink to points once more, constricting to tight dots before bouncing back to their natural size. And predictably, once again, they expand like blown glass when you catch his attention.

"Hawks!"

"Yeah, what?"

His chewing ceases obnoxiously, chicken drum in his right hand and half-chewed remains in his left cheek.

You might as well rip it off like a bandaid. You let out a puff of air.

"Your eyes," you attempt to gently point out.

"Mm?" Keigo's head tilts to the side, pondering your observation for a moment.

"My eyes? Ohh," he drags his words as if in realization, treating himself to another chomp into the drumstick. "You gettin' lost in them, huh? Happens, dove. You can stare, I don't mind."

"No!" You squeak out your denial before smoothing down your shirt and tipping your chin high.

You have the upper hand here. Remember that.

"I mean," you correct your course, staring down and poking at your plate while a smile creeps up your lips. "It's kinda hard not to when your pupils look like they're gonna swallow your goddamn irises."

The silence that follows is deafening.

"Kei'?" You flick your gaze up toward him, worried now.

Under normal circumstances, it's an established habit for Keigo to slot one palm over his mouth when called out.

But this time, that hand bypasses his lips, crawling upward to reach his visor and wordlessly drag it down over the source of his shame.

A stronger person than you would hold back their laughter. They would take pity on the flush rising over his cheeks and neck like sunsets. Perhaps they would coo praises to soothe him, or even take it all back to ease the shame and discomfort that makes him feel utterly naked.

They would take pity on the man who, under the fluorescent high beams bolted to the diner's ceiling, looks just like a clown tripping on stage with the spotlight shined on his face.

You are not a strong person.

In your hysterics, you reach over to pry the barrier off his eyes, climbing into his lap and over him like tussling teenagers.

"Keigo, I didn't say it was a bad thing—"

"You're laughing," he laments like a kicked puppy, prying your face an arm's length from his with a single palm.

It's over. This is it for him. His life is over, he's going to have to change his identity.

He can start fresh with a new hero name, one not centered around red-tailed hawks— he'll need to rebrand as another bird, most likely. Preferably one with the same signature red feathers so as not to make a fuss for the merch department.

Maybe a parrot.

Winged-Hero Parrots.

"You're laughing at me!"

"I'm not laughing at—" another uncontrollable wheeze. His wings flap in indignance once, slamming against the cushions of the pink diner seat before drooping down like a dog's tail between its legs. You pluck the visor and raise it above your head out of arm's reach, one hand planted against his chest for stability.

"Not laughing at you! Baby, I promise—"

"Baby?" He repeats.

The silence is worse the second time around— but luckily for you, Keigo is a stronger person than you are. No laughter erupts from his chest, no smirk settles on his face.

If anything, your slip up seems to elevate his heart rate more than yours.

"We really should—"

"I think we need to—"

Both sentences collide in the small space between you, his lips completely still and mere inches away from yours.

You're reminded of the feeling of your fingertips about to touch metal after being charged with static, the skin crackling with the air's tension as you contemplate whether to just get it over with and touch.

And slowly, as if suddenly cognizant of your bodies and environment, you both crawl off each other and scoot toward the furthest edges of the booth seat.

Your knees make their way toward your chest for comfort, while Keigo's wings drape over his shoulders like a cocoon.

"We should talk."

#🖋 writing #🍧 sugar #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader

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joannasteez · 7 months ago

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the aftermath

pairing: tattooist!cm punk x reader warning: mentions of needles, and biting, and explicit descriptions and dialogue pertaining to sex. tattooist!punk (this warning is more for me cuz he makes me delusional sometimes) authors note: nothing really. just enjoy! if so, don't be afraid to let me know! inspired by @kill-the-artiste master class in ✨tension✨… please go read. RUN NOT WALK! word count: 3500 tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling @2-muchsauce

in for a penny of pain, in for a beauty by the pound

@ WARNING: all work is of quality but more importantly is done with respect to the bodies health and limits

the way your apartment window faces, you never get the sun till a ways after high noon. so no. this isn't your apartment. exhaustion playing in your legs. a good, sated, tired ache. like if you bend or extend too much too quick they'll cave in and collapse without warning. they'll remind you of how horrible it is, to make assumptions about a perceived strength. especially when it's so obvious that you aren't ready to leave the cool touch of his sheets. his. oh shit. because the bedroom in your apartment doesn't get much sun with the way it faces and it for damn sure isn't cream colored and littered with wood framed portraits. memory like a teasing trickle in of rain. little droplets collecting—his teeth grazing, the patient mischief of a wolf, sinking in to pull skin—till they ripple and pool together. a throb of something journeying to live between your thighs, swirling till it breaches skin again in an effect to make you shiver, to make you shift against the sheets because he,—"you can't stay still for shit can you?"—that's what he'd said. making rough impressions in your thick soft skin. holding and groaning and amused. buried amidst the pillow of your inner thighs, eager tongue dipping to lick against the desperate pulse of your clit. whimpers and moans and near shrill begging, and—oh God—your stomach swirls. embarrassment this deep exhale as your head falls in your hands.

and for a second, the world plummets into something disgusting. a disturbing shade of gray. laughter breaking beyond the crack open of the bedroom door. because he could be laughing at you right? mulling over and recounting the events of the night with a buddy and having a go at making you miserable enough to delight in some fucked sort of amusement at the helpless way you moaned and teared for him. but thats not what it is. it's quiet chatter and early morning comedy. little hums of his early day coarse voice and a bold, earthy warmth. coffee. your mouth watering and the emptiness in your belly going about a great terrible violence as it growls and shudders. a hickory note of something twisting the air, the back of your throat dry, and seemingly—well...not seemingly, because that sort of implies some lack in surety. you'd made good, disgusting, honest, work of voicing just how much fun you were having. that much you remember, and fortunately, you remember everything. alcohol forgone for the sake of lucidity. because you know what he is. a buddy of yours just as clean and straightedged.

in a fuller state of honesty, it'd be accurate to say it was all like form of reverence. an eagerness to please. anything if it meant him peeling your jeans off quickly. and yes, he'd done it. but it was more patient than you'd wanted. like he was reciprocating that reverence. studying and planning.

his dresser draws are wooden, much like the rest of his decor. a polished mahogany that brings more warmth to the room.

rolled up t-shirts sorted in no particular fashion, the fit of it snug as it falls over.

at the corner foot of the dresser lays last nights underwear. a predetermined pick. simple, and black and lacy. nearly tattered to bits because his patience had eventually reached a max capacity before he dove headfirst into being a damn brute.

underwear is a hot commodity when you ball on a budget. he owes you.

you sift for something reasonable. a checkered pair of boxer briefs that fit more like boy-shorts, but it works. slipping your jeans over them. and his bathroom isn't so much huge but it is lived in. comfortable. the tiles, a sage green with minor cracks made more from age than from some man made disruption.

and thank God almighty. he's not the three-in-one type. a wash cloth and a toothbrush laying lonely along the bathroom counter, separate from the other things. you hum. going about a quick wash up.

and whats that saying? it's only awkward if you make it awkward. because hell, there was nothing tricky or particularly delicate about fucking your tattooist right? you could do a small stint away. go cold turkey from your favorite past time. a silent walk of semi-shame and a few months till your next appointment would do the trick. enough time to forget such a destructive allure living with his words and the way he said—"you been waitin for this for a while huh? so pretty, lettin me touch you"—things. his every expression an accusation. exposing the unspoken things living behind just barely placid eyes. desires, fantasies and half baked plots for his attention.

the pain of a needle is no worser than this. cant be. cant be worser than the creak of the floors, announcing your entrance to the kitchen. his little chuckling smile forming less loose and more attentive as he drinks you in. an unabashed performance of observation that makes the skin crawl. a shiver really. green eyes cool, heavy, and exacting, like metal. like the prick of his needles. wandering with ease—your jean dressed legs, a clinging t-shirt that rides up some as you walk and the slow but sure appearance of indentations about your neck that indicate his penchant for tasting, biting —while stuck between a casual, early morning call and your performance of feigning indifference.

he hums. a response to whoever is holding him over the phone. tongue slipping over his bottom lip before he's turning back to the stove.

coffee sits in a mug littered with dog breeds. the steam of it curling up thick. a plate half dressed next to it. just finished buttered toast and still hot eggs. his arm reaching over to drop bacon on it. teeth baring as he laughs into his call. flits of his eyes that motion for you to eat. stationing to lean against the long stretch of marble that makes up the kitchen island. a focused attention. assessing your quiet take to indulging in whatever this is. because he didn't need to make you breakfast, didn't need to brew you coffee and leave you comfortably tucked in the sheets. but then again, he'd more than generously put you to sleep. wore your nerves and bones down. rendered you to a bout of tears even. yeah. he owes you breakfast. your fork digging into the eggs. and a new pair of damn underwear.

"yeah, i need you opening up shop for me today...", he gives. a sweet, feminine voice sighing deeply over the other end. loud and long enough to reach you. something in your stomach swirling odd and quite disgusting. sharp and twisted up. "...i'll be a little late, got caught up in something this morning...", the folding over of the words along his tongue giving your skin a chill. a ride of a shiver up your back. his eyes slipping over your face. a pale green leaving their edged, assessing, impressions. "...i owe you one...alright...", his thumb tapping the screen to end the call.

the bacon is salty on the tongue. satisfies the nothingness on your palette. your fork poking dumbly. like you'll find brilliant words amidst the plate. a sick little smirk on his mouth. loving your inability to look at him without wavering.

why in the absolute hell did you fuck this man? the fit of his boxer briefs odd under your jeans. poorly shaped to hips and thighs, the material not made to take that kind of stretch.

"you owe me new underwear...", that declaration of it too feathered. not strong enough. not sure. his lips spreading more. joy taking his face up wholly. feeling it as he casts his eyes over you. "...i'll send a receipt or something...".

"noted. how do you like to take it?"

excuse me? your throat drying up. fingers clutching the fork tight. your belly flipping stupidly quick. too damn excitable.

"what?"

the mug of coffee he'd poured for you in his hand. the sugar jar close by. spoon ready to be used for it's stirring purpose. an elation pouring from his cheeks that makes you want to curl in. "coffee". a slow, near patronizing reiteration. "how do you like to take your coffee".

"oh...", breath a little caught in your throat. the unsettled frenzy under skin an oddity. because this very regular, slightly older, very good looking, self assured man, shouldn't have such an affect. "..um...a little sugar, a lot of cream".

and he does it to perfection. listens and performs. giving short flits of his eyes to yours. stirring and assessing. an appraisal. your neck heating from the sensation of being examined. satisfaction brightening him up at such rough handy work made the night before. smug fucking asshole. that curling scrape of the spoon against coffee filled porcelain winding up your curiosities to a nagging degree. sensitivities under the skin too plain and forthright to ignore. too well suited actually. like they've taken up a comfortable residence after just one night of being made pliant. had others felt this way once upon a time? sat where you sit now? being made by themselves to snuff out the disgusting giddiness of some post-night spectacle. a green, rotten, world of a feeling in the pit of your stomach now.

"do you—...", finding the phrasing, forming properly on the tongue, "...you usually get caught up in... things...like this?"

a scoff but it's fully amused. his lips spreading, a chuckle slipping into words. "is that a 'do i regularly fuck my clients question', cause if so then no". the mug sliding along the marble island. coffee prepped pluming thick still. "you're the first. congrats".

this fucking guy. "oh?" that bite of irony in him, troubling the skin playfully, as if to lure you out from behind that disconcerting wall you've so diligently built, in an attempt to evade him. his eyes and that little smirk he feels the need to keep along his mouth. "i didn't realize you were some sort of prize".

his head tilts, gaze slipping up and over and about. appraisal again. the look you give at the arrival of an object of affection, desire after some time. a satisfaction born from the restoration of a familiar, comfortable thing. your jaw shifting soft as you chew. lips pursing over the mug to sip tenderly. a drip of coffee falling off and away from your mouth. his pace quick as he plucks a napkin to hand you.

"i mean...", his body leaning in against the island. elbows pressing to the marble to bring him closer. his hair a little messy and untamed. "...i don't think so, but you were lettin a lot loose last night. little noises and such. i figured you were just so happy and satisfied...", grabbing his own mug to sip from. delighting in the silence, in the astonishment his teasing is leaving you to settle in. "...felt like you'd won something".

your cheeks are warm. hot even. stomach suddenly full off of his domestic efforts of a hot breakfast. your fingers gingerly pushing the plate away towards him, but the pull and roll of your eyes speak of something a little more heated than some gingered, cautioned disposition. his cockiness doing awful work. irking your nerves and reeling you in just the same. and maybe it's your turn to appraise. to examine and assess. his early morning, kitchen attire very obviously calculated enough to bring about some dead-brained, teenaged, short circuiting. chest shirtless and his legs covered in mesh shorts. arms tatted and muscled. grays and dark brown hair like a fine patch work on his face. admirable things of course, but you've already, obviously, given yourself away in revealing how much of it you find appealing. he doesn't need more.

an attempt to bruise should work. if not successful, at least give it a go right?

"you were alright", you shrug. chest hammering, near implosion. his eyes casting down, daring for an evasion. "i give it an A minus. there's always room for improvement".

"ouch", he laughs. a wide, bright, light expression. dumping your finished plate into the sink. "if i knew i was getting tested on performance, i'd have strove for higher marks...". sipping from his mug again. a head shake to express disagreement. "...but some of the judgement here is a bit range-less...doesn't really grasp the full effect of my—"

"dick?"

you stiffen just after the leave of it. a thought never meant to be expelled but here you are, fighting the urge to curl in and hold your head. heart beating terribly hard. embarrassment rife.

"...capabilities...but now i see where your heads at. i think this is grounds for some rescoring. you're impaired".

"by what exactly?"

he hums. that head tilt again. "you were a little eager last night, which, given how long you been wantin and schemin, is very understandable, but those good, true bits of judgement are from how well you can savor it right? you gotta stop and smell those roses".

you scoff. "scheming is a reach".

his eyes roll. pushing off the edge of the island. "an observation". shuffling back slightly to make a bodies worth of space. his hand motioning. "come here".

"for what—"

"please", like he's sweetening the give of a request. an appeal. like he knows just the chord to strum to produce the work of some easier follow through.

eyes softer but exacting. a clever lure in. like last night. like when he fit and slotted his mouth against yours and breathed deeply. fingers gentler and patient, pushing in to soothe the quake of your thighs. your body undone beneath him. performing a beautiful release with the song of all those little noises he couldn't help but to bring up now for his amusement. palms slipping between your legs then for more. to spread and curl. a dangerously steady feed in, swirling along the tender beginning of your pussy. toying and prodding, suckling your neck, and then a knuckle deep stroke that sorely excites already sensitive nerves. your legs pressing in to trap him to a stillness. his mouth at your ear. hot breaths, your skin shivering. a kiss to the shell of it before his delicate "please". that manner of request unfolding your legs easy. the simplicity of it forcing you to moan for him as he'd sought to take more from you.

your thighs press together hard, memory bursting till its coursing along every bit of skin. but you don't make to indulge him. testing the waters of this defiance. because he's obviously looking to stretch some authoritative muscle. "open, spread, be still", those the tender taste of his commands filling your mouth as he kissed you last night, and in your daze you complied swiftly. as eager as he'd said you did. the whole of him used to control. used to finely straddling lines of danger and succeeding well. what with his needles and their sharp, biting impressions. so no, you don't move, letting the thickness of the air settle deeper. playing at a naive rebellion done only by fragile little prey thought invincible. because this is it, isn't it? the thing that gets him going. sets his bones hot and fingers achy.

it's a finger over licks of a fire, a push of the limit after already being burnt to a beautiful consumption. your brows pulling. hands palming your knees tight. "you bite".

he smirks. bares teeth. steps calm to cover the distance. the patience of a wolf. "only upon request".

his island chair is one that swivels. a short creak breaking as you turn to face him. laughing breathy, wry, shifting in place, searching for comfortability under the weight of his presence. his hard body slotting between your thighs. coffee on his tongue as he nears, mouth ghosting shy. his nose slipping at yours. a hard swallow in your throat as you feel him press in to wedge you against the chair and the island. "i never asked", a little docility to your voice. adverting your eyes, closing them, to refuse his own, another small performance. something refractory. his chest warm as you press forward into him. a hot hand running up along your back till its situating to cradle your nape.

"you didn't oppose".

his teeth sinking in to pull at your bottom lip. sharp enough for an abrupt wince. attempting to pry yourself from his grip, that palm at the base of your neck strong. corrective. short breaths huffing into his mouth as he kisses your lip. a light play at a remedy. the affection of it sweet and dotting enough that you rush in for more, much to his sudden displeasure. his throat humming, the confirmation of some long standing observation. the column of your neck warm from the run of his free thumb. that slip of a touch shivering you whole. hands gripping into the waist band of his shorts. knuckles aching. a terrible make at reprieve.

"being skittish is just a natural little condition of yours huh?"

"no". your voice airy. feathered for him.

"so just with me then?...", skimming his mouth at your cheek. a simple kiss to the apple of it. "...cause i can't really give you what you need when you're all excitable and eager like this...". another lingering kiss at the corner of your mouth. "...need some patience".

a near unbreathable daze forms about your head. eyes dim. the scent of him filling your nose till its blooming in your lungs. fingers curling and sweeping and releasing along his skin. at old tattoos and taut muscle. a pulse at the heart of your thighs that teeters your nerves on the verge of inconsolable. his fingers squeezing perfect at your neck. a purr of a moan in your mouth. "what else do i need?"

his mouth slots for a full kiss, done up with breath and purpose. your palms holding firm at his waist for stability as he pulls you in. "a little direction". his tongue peaking to slip. a lazy lick at yours. your breath hitching at the wet curl of it. lips parting to receive. smirking as you whimper against him. "don't need you gettin distracted, then all of your attention gets eaten up by trivial little shit. you start making the real poor decisions then".

"like pepsi logo tattoos...", you muse. "...and fucking your tattooist raw...", a languid, tongue filled kiss. air harsh through the nose to make up for the overtake of his mouth. the slipping noise of it lewd to the ears. makes your skin hot. hotter. urges erupting sure. a fragile hiss playing off your mouth, his teeth finding refuge over your lip again. a grunted moan hitting the air. his hands tucked under your knees, rushing to pull your thighs in, body at the edge of the island chair. you feed your tongue in again. eagerness unabated. "...you're not the first man with too many gray hairs trying to be my handler...", a snicker thats more like a scoff. a teasing tug at the waist band of his shorts again. making to release him but never getting to it. his mouth at your chin and your jaw, nipping and licking into your neck. "...i make your dick harder just a little more than all the others so now you want to manage me? make sure no one else is gettin in on this huh?..."

he digs into your leg. a harsh pinch that makes you jerk into him. "i'd only be offended if you didn't like me so much, didn't wanna fuck me so badly", his nose knocking into yours again. a bruising kiss by the firm pull of his lips. "something tells me you like a little correction...", a hand keeps your thigh cinched to him and the other releases your other leg to journey near the zipper of your jeans. "...being commended".

his middle and ring fingers venture between. a faint circling where your jeans cover over the throb of your clit. the pace and patience of his touching and his mouth quaking your bones. irritated with an eagerness he seems to want to handle so insistently.

his phone rings.

you whine in protest. the slip away of him abrupt and emptying as he fishes for the phone.

"relax", he muses. kissing the corner of your mouth.

but he answers anyways. settles into the call so much till his brows pull. a focus that leads into that faithful disappointment of having to prioritize. green eyes casting over. taking stock of your face. his thumb soothing your lip, just where he'd bitten.

the emptiness grows, occupying this shitty liminal space. and it only gets worse. the neediness he'd corralled snuffed out quick. something about "forgotten early appointments" and "taking you where you need to go".

there are many valuable little notes to give to the self. an unwieldy feeling under the skin as you make to get your belongings. going about a terrible attempt of acting like he wasn't just about to give you a three-peat of last nights little fun. so close to feeling all of him just meticulously fed into you.

the biggest note of all though. toughing your shoes on. annoyance playing unabashed. don't fuck your tattooist.

#joannasteez #cm punk #cm punk fanfiction #cm punk fanfic #cm punk fic #cm punk x reader #cm punk x black reader #cm punk x fem reader #implied plus size reader #tattoo au

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animusrox · 3 months ago

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Golden Globes Nominations - TELEVISION

Best Television Series – Drama

The Day of the Jackal (Peacock) The Diplomat (Netflix) Mr. & Mrs. Smith (Prime Video) Shogun (FX/Hulu) Slow Horses (Apple TV+) Squid Game (Netflix)

Best Television Series – Musical Or Comedy

Abbott Elementary (ABC) The Bear (FX/Hulu) The Gentlemen (Netflix) Hacks (HBO/Max) Nobody Wants This (Netflix) Only Murders in the Building (Hulu)

Best Television Limited Series, Anthology Series or Motion Picture Made For Television

Baby Reindeer (Netflix) Disclaimer (Apple TV+) Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story (Netflix) The Penguin (HBO/Max) Ripley (Netflix) True Detective: Night Country (HBO/Max)

Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Television Series – Drama

Kathy Bates (Matlock) Emma D’arcy (House of the Dragon) Maya Erskine (Mr. & Mrs. Smith) Keira Knightley (Black Doves) Keri Russell (The Diplomat) Anna Sawai (Shogun)

Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Television Series – Drama

Donald Glover (Mr. & Mrs. Smith) Jake Gyllenhaal (Presumed Innocent) Gary Oldman (Slow Horses) Eddie Redmayne (The Day of the Jackal) Hiroyuki Sanada (Shogun) Billy Bob Thornton (Landman)

Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy

Kristen Bell (Nobody Wants This) Quinta Brunson (Abbott Elementary) Ayo Edebiri (The Bear) Selena Gomez (Only Murders in the Building) Kathryn Hahn (Agatha All Along) Jean Smart (Hacks)

Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy

Adam Brody (Nobody Wants This) Ted Danson (A Man on the Inside) Steve Martin (Only Murders in the Building) Jason Segel (Shrinking) Martin Short (Only Murders in the Building) Jeremy Allen White (The Bear)

Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Limited Series, Anthology Series or a Motion Picture Made for Television

Cate Blanchett (Disclaimer) Jodie Foster (True Detective: Night Country) Cristin Milioti (The Penguin) Sofía Vergara (Griselda) Naomi Watts (Feud: Capote Vs. The Swans) Kate Winslet (The Regime)

Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Limited Series, Anthology Series or a Motion Picture Made for Television

Colin Farrell (The Penguin) Richard Gadd (Baby Reindeer) Kevin Kline (Disclaimer) Cooper Koch (Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story) Ewan McGregor (A Gentleman in Moscow) Andrew Scott (Ripley)

Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Supporting Role on Television

Liza Colón-Zayas (The Bear) Hannah Einbinder (Hacks) Dakota Fanning (Ripley) Jessica Gunning (Baby Reindeer) Allison Janney (The Diplomat) Kali Reis (True Detective: Night Country)

Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Supporting Role on Television

Tadanobu Asano (Shogun) Javier Bardem (Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story) Harrison Ford (Shrinking) Jack Lowden (Slow Horses) Diego Luna (La Máquina) Ebon Moss-Bachrach (The Bear)

Best Performance in Stand-Up Comedy on Television

Jamie Foxx (Jamie Foxx: What Had Happened Was) Nikki Glaser (Nikki Glaser: Someday You’ll Die) Seth Meyers (Seth Meyers: Dad Man Walking) Adam Sandler (Adam Sandler: Love You) Ali Wong (Ali Wong: Single Lady) Ramy Youssef (Ramy Youssef: More Feelings)

#golden globes #golden globes 2025 #82nd golden globe awards #award shows #news #tv #television #tv shows

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chickenkurage · 4 months ago

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"The worst caretaker…...DJ Welch himself" (Farmer AU)

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Summary: Alan had some errands to attend to and left the hollow pineapples in DJ's care. He trusted DJ implicitly; after all, he had proven his reliability with the apples. Surely, DJ could handle looking after the hollow pineapples... or so Alan thought.

Tag: Comedy, Humor, Slight Hurt/Injury (mostly DJ)

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"Hey, where are you headed?" DJ asked, tearing his attention away from the TV, with Red and Green engrossed in the movie on his lap, while Yellow and Blue dozed on his left leg.

"Oh, just running some errands. This means I'll need to entrust the pineapples to you," Alan explained, flashing a small smile as DJ heaved a sigh.

"You know I can't handle the chaos those four bring," DJ deadpanned. "Well, three, Vic isn't that wild... yet," he added, a shiver running down his spine, prompting a raised eyebrow from Alan.

"I trust you won't let them come to harm. The apples can be just as unruly," Alan remarked, tilting his head as DJ chuckled, gently petting the heads of Green and Red, eliciting soft 'meep' sounds from the pair.

"Well, they can be chill if they want to... but how long will you be gone exactly?" DJ raised an eyebrow, prompting a thoughtful hum from Alan. "I'm not entirely sure, but rest assured, I'll be back sooner than you can imagine," Alan reassured, flashing a grin as DJ scratched his head, mulling over the timeframe.

"Well," DJ began tentatively, his voice slightly higher as he debated internally. "Meep?" Second peeked out from the wall, prompting all four apples on DJ's lap to spring up excitedly and leap off the sofa. "There they go... ugh, fine, I'll take care of them," DJ groaned, resigned to the task as Alan let out a small laugh.

"Thanks, DJ. I knew I could rely on you," Alan chuckled, shaking his head as Second hoisted Red above his head and dashed around. DJ yelped, leaping to his feet and chasing after them.

"Great catch!" Alan laughed as DJ swiftly dove to the floor, managing to intercept Red and Second just before they tumbled down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Cho, stop that! Don't!" DJ exclaimed, wresting the knife from the black pineapple's grasp and pulling him close, only to be pummeled by Cho's relentless punches. With a groan, DJ carefully placed the knife on the kitchen cabinet. Turning around, his eyes widened at the sight of Dark poised to dunk Vic into a pot of boiling water.

"Dark, no!" DJ yelled, swiftly intervening to rescue both Dark and Vic, their surprised 'chip's echoing loudly. "Oh, help me, above," DJ cried out, swiftly carrying the two pineapples to the living room and depositing them on the couch where the apples were peacefully napping in a dogpile.

"Don't you all take afternoon naps? Look at my kids," DJ gestured towards the apples snuggled together. He then turned back to the pineapples, who were chattering and chirping amongst themselves. "Ugh," DJ groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, half-tempted to swaddle them all in a burrito and hang them from the stair rails.

"I’m half tempted to stuff you all in a sock, you know that, right?" DJ threatened, eyeing the pineapples, Sec responding with a chip before dashing to embrace the serene Vic, who remained unperturbed.

"Please, just try to be more like Vic. Look at him, so chill. Why can't you all—wait... where's Dark?" DJ's eyes widened as he counted the hollowheads, stopping at three; the red hollowhead was missing. A grinding sound caught his attention, and he turned to see Dark atop the cabinet, nudging a vase towards the edge.

"For goodness' sake!" DJ growled, sprinting towards Dark, managing to catch both the vase and Dark just before they tumbled down. The sudden save caused DJ to stumble, hitting his side against the cabinet in the process.

With a groan, torn between the pain and the urge to scold Dark, DJ's emotions softened when Dark emitted a frightened 'chip,' prompting a sigh from DJ. After carefully returning the vase to its place, he rubbed his side, contemplating his next move.

"Dark, don't do that again... or else," DJ warned, fixing an intense glare on Dark, who nodded in understanding, clinging to DJ's thumb with his tiny arms.

"Don't repeat that, understand? I'll really stuff you in a sock," DJ reiterated firmly, Dark nodding repeatedly in response. Letting out a sigh, DJ gave him a gentle pat. "Good—” DJ's smile faltered as a loud crash interrupted him. Whirling around, he found only Vic beside Green on the couch.

"What—?" DJ began, before spotting Sec and Cho locked in a scuffle on the floor, toppling the coffee table in their tussle. "What the heck?!" DJ exclaimed, leaping into action to separate them, with Dark perched on his arm, watching the chaos unfold, possibly even encouraging Sec to land a punch on Cho's face.

Dark waved his stubby arms as DJ intervened to prevent Sec and Cho from engaging in a full-blown brawl. "Stop, both of you! I swear to Alan, I'll tie you up and turn you into chandeliers!" DJ threatened, but Sec and Cho persisted in their scuffle.

It took nearly an hour of tireless effort for DJ to finally lull the pineapples to sleep, a task that consumed much of his day. Carrying the four troublesome fruits, he tried various methods to coax them into slumber. Now, utterly drained, DJ found himself groaning in exhaustion, resting his head on the armrest of the couch. The apples and pineapples lay peacefully asleep beside him, the room finally quiet

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Yellow, out of everyone, I trust you. Please, watch over all of them," DJ implored, gazing down at Yellow, who nodded in understanding. With a sense of reassurance, Yellow turned to observe the apples and pineapples left in the cart, alongside the empty baskets awaiting a fresh harvest of apples.

"Meep!" Yellow saluted, offering DJ a nod before bouncing back towards the cart and climbing up. DJ emitted a sound that was a mix of a groan and a sigh as he redirected his attention to the trees. Retrieving his gloves from his pockets, he slid them on, preparing for the task ahead.

With a deep breath, he stretched his arms overhead, letting out a groan before winding up for a swing. His fist connected with the tree in a swift motion, causing apples to rain down into the awaiting baskets. The tree bark groaned loudly, and the roots beneath the soil snapped, gradually tilting the tree until it fell in one fluid motion.

"Oops," DJ winced as the tree tumbled, but he quickly turned his attention to the cart, exhaling with relief as he saw all the apples and pineapples still safely gathered. As long as they stayed put and didn't wander off, they would be out of harm's way.

The thought of a tree falling on them made DJ shudder, a scenario he hoped to avoid at all costs. With a deep breath, he gathered the baskets and carried them back to the cart. "Looks like you're all having fun...playing cards? Where did you get those?" DJ raised an eyebrow, spotting Dark attempting to conceal the cards behind his back.

The group glanced nervously at DJ before he burst into laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. Dark let out an annoyed 'meep' in response.

"Alright, you guys can play poker, but if Alan catches you, don't blame me," DJ chuckled, giving them a playful warning as he gestured for them to continue their game. With a wave, he headed towards the next tree.

Amidst the playful meeps and chips of the fruits, DJ chuckled softly. After rotating his shoulder a few times, he proceeded to fell one tree after another, the repetitive thuds echoing through the orchard.

"Maybe I should take it down a notch," DJ muttered to himself as he surveyed the fallen trees. The expanse of apple trees on their land seemed excessive, posing a challenge for him as he wasn't keen on deforestation. It was also becoming tiresome to handle the excess wood, especially with the surplus already stored in the barn by Alan.

"Ugh," DJ groaned, rolling his eyes as he wiped sweat from his forehead, feeling the weight of his physical exertion. With a sigh, he directed his attention to the last tree scheduled for today. After a brief moment of preparation, he approached it, rolling his shoulders and giving them a light massage to relieve some tension.

He turned towards the cart, releasing a relieved sigh at the sight of the fruits still perched atop the baskets. Each of them held their own apples, even Red balancing one on his head. The scene brought a small smile to DJ's face

DJ snickered at the sight of the fruits being surprisingly endearing when they weren't causing chaos.

He refocused on the task at hand and delivered the strongest punch he could muster, causing the tree and the apples to tumble simultaneously. Grinning with satisfaction, he dusted his hands off, only to let out a startled yell at the sight of Dark positioned behind the falling tree.

"Shit! Dark!" DJ's cry pierced the air as he lunged towards the pineapple, his knees skidding on the grass as he threw himself over Dark, shielding him from the imminent danger of the descending tree. The weighty tree crashed down on top of them, enveloping them in darkness.

Amidst the crushing weight, a fleeting thought crossed DJ's mind, a nap wouldn't be so bad. His body ached as he felt Dark shifting beneath him. Gritting his teeth against the discomfort, he managed to push the tree aside, allowing Dark to wiggle free from his grasp.

Dark's concerned 'Meep! Meep! Meep!' filled the air as he patted DJ's cheek, as DJ's eyes fluttered shut, succumbing to the overwhelming exhaustion and pain.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Everyone relax, he’s just sleeping, we’re hollowheads, we can’t get hurt easily”. As DJ slowly regained consciousness, a familiar voice chuckled nearby.

Opening his eyes groggily, he felt a weight on his side and chest. "Al?" DJ mumbled, rubbing his head in confusion.

"DJ, how did it feel for a tree to fall on you?" Alan's laughter filled the air as DJ sat up, letting out a grunt of discomfort. The apples and pineapples leaped onto his lap, emitting a chorus of meeps and chips as they clamored around him, hugging his chest in relief.

"It was pretty intense. Okay, everyone, relax, I'm not dead yet," DJ reassured them, a chuckle escaping his lips. He observed Dark grabbing onto his jumper and climbing up to perch on his shoulder, emitting a soft 'meep' while hugging DJ's cheek with a hint of sadness and regret.

Amused by the scene, Alan watched with a hand over his mouth, attempting to stifle his laughter. DJ rolled his eyes playfully. "At least you feel bad. Your father here doesn't even seem to care that you guys were almost traumatized," DJ teased, prompting a grin from Alan.

It was until later that DJ and Alan found themselves cuddling on the couch. Lulled by the peaceful scene with the fruits nestled between them, DJ couldn't help but voice his exhaustion. "I am never taking care of your kids ever again, man," he mumbled, stifling a yawn as he felt Alan chuckle beside him.

"Can't keep up, old man?" Alan teased, provoking a raised eyebrow from DJ. "You wish. By the way, you're older than me," DJ retorted with a grin, prompting a chuckle from Alan in response.

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Thank @kiaerinnn for pushing me to create this xDD, I realized I don't feed you guys much, OOPS xD. Anyways, just request and I'll give - S

#FAlanBecker #FDJWelch #Spongey'sFic #ava #ava au #alan becker #dj welch #ava red #ava green #ava yellow #ava blue #ava tco #ava victim #ava tsc #ava tdl #animator vs animation #animation vs animator

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whatsaninterestingplacethisis · 10 months ago

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summer love

Imagine

Adam Fantilli x Latina!Reader

synop: Adam and y/n meet during dinner in Italy, spending what seems an endless summer together.

song-spo: mystery of love by sufjan stevens + crazy for you by madonna (this song captures the final scene so perfectly like 13 going on 30 lmao)

genre: slowburn rom-com, heavy on the comedy bc i think i'm hilarious, but def has cute scenes. 7.1K words! (longest i've written??)

Prompts: building tension prompt

an: call me by your name vibezz + one day trip to greece vibez. shy adam with no rizz hehe. too many bad jokes/mentions of his italian ancestry lmao, witty & snarky friendship 😆 i literally forget what team adam favored for his draft my bad. also i know zip of italian culture so hopefully i didn't butcher anything nor have i visited italy lmao

cw: drinking, cussing, skinny dipping, innuendo with spoons?

It was a spontaneous trip which only it made it all the better.

Saving up the money, booking the flight, and the stay. With no itinerary, you spent the past two days on the beach and sleeping in from the jet lag.

You figured you would put your new wardrobe to use by wearing it out to dinner. It was a warm night, the sky turning into a dark blue, eventually turning black with stars sprinkled above.

You wore a loose summer dress to try an Italian cuisine. It was daunting to eat alone in a foreign country but then again you made it across the pond into a foreign country all alone. It didn't come this far to starve. So you ate and drank a bit of wine.

In between sips and chewing, you people watched. Noticing the large touristy family trying to eat dinner in peace. A native Italian couple staring at each other lovingly. And then there was you, all alone with no one across from you but it was okay. You were content. No one there knew you or even acknowledged your presence. With a light breeze in the air and the muffled sounds of people it put you at ease.

You took another and final sip from your glass, as your eyes hooked with a stranger's eyes. They stayed there until the stranger bashfully looked away, failing to hold back a smile.

You noticed this stranger sitting with what seems like his family. Him being the only one on the restaurant patio acknowledging your existence put you on edge.

You avoided looking at his direction as you waved the waiter for the bill. You fidgeted nervously with the table cloth as you waited. When he returned, he not only came back with the bill but a small bowl of pink, you assumed, what was strawberry gelato.

"Oh I didn't order this," you looked at the waiter with confusion,

"No, he did." he pointed across the outdoor patio to said stranger. He had a slight blush to his cheeks, nodding his head to the both of you.

"I see, thank you." you bid goodbye the his service after paying for your meal. You looked back down at the cold dessert and right up the stranger. You took a big sigh as you signaled him to come over to your table. You noticed how his eyes widened and him talking to his presumed family. He made his way to your single table as his family's eyes followed his path.

By the time he sat across from you, his family's eyes were on you, but you ignored them for now,

"Bold move with the soft serve." you finally took a bite of the gelato, waiting for him to make another move.

"Is it? I was just trying to be nice I guess."

"Just nice? What if I didn't call you over? Would you send another dessert?" you teased him, curious of his thinking.

He laughed, "Maybe I would have ordered one for me after the rejection," he took a clean spoon from the table and dove into your dessert, "but you did call me over, so thanks." the spoon made a pop sound when he licked it clean.

"I'm Adam."

"Well Adam, you just took a bite of my gelato."

"Well technically I paid for it." He said as he took another spoonful from your bowl.

"Wow, so thats how you treat a lady?" you dramatically say as you eat more of you and Adam's dessert.

"I'm y/n." you lean back into your chair, staring this man down. You caught what seems like his brother and mother peeking behind his shoulder from their table.

"Is that your family?" you nodded towards their direction. He turned around and saw them snap their heads in any other direction.

He chortled, running his hand through his hair, "Yeah, don't pay attention to them. They'll just embarrass me."

"What, you don't pick up girls often? Especially with dessert?" you joked and he laughed too,

He shook his head as he laughed but stared at you intently with a soft smile, "No, no I don't."

You didn't think his sweet gesture would lead anywhere, but you were starting to like him.

"So, Adam, have you been in Italy before?" It was a silly question to ask but you didn't know anything about him. He went on to tell you how he had family here and he had visited often. He even mentioned his last name and that definitely proved his rich culture to your amusement,

"Fantilli?! Wow, I don't think I've ever heard such an Italian name before!"

"It's not that Italian..." he basked in his shyness as he rambled off on his culture,

"Oh you're kidding, you got the double i and everything." you enjoyed teasing him because you both knew it was light hearted.

"So where are you from?" The shared gelato had been long gone yet the conversation flowed smoothly.

"Nobleton, it's near Toronto, but I live in Columbus for work."

"Columbus as in Ohio?!" you squinted at his answer, forcing him to hold back a laugh.

"Well it wasn't really my choice, LA would have been my first choice."

"Somehow LA is worse than Ohio." you blatantly say making him laugh. Before you could ask him more about which lesser of the cities were his choice, a tall figure appeared at your table.

"Hey bro, mom and dad are ready to head back." The standing figure smiled to you and smirked to Adam making him scoff at him.

"I'll be there in a few." Adam replied

"For sure," he said with another grin as he loudly slapped Adam's shoulder as he walked off.

"Was that your brother?" you asked the obvious,

"Unfortunately," he tried to not reach for his shoulder but his face grimaced in pain.

"Well." you said waiting to see how Adam was going to end this night,

"Well...what?" he chuckled ignorantly

"It was nice talking with you." you said honestly,

"Oh yeah, it was" he stands and gets ready to leave "have a goodnight y/n"

"Adam!" you raise your voice before he turns all the way, "Are you really not gonna ask for my number?"

"I didn't know you still wanted to talk with me." he rubbed the back of his neck,

"You know you have to be more bold than ordering dessert across a restaurant to know if a girl is in interested." you stood up to sort of reach his level, "So?"

He pulled out his phone and handed it to you,

"There, now we can talk more if you want to." you gave back his phone,

"Oh, I want to."

"Then I expect a text whenever possible." Both of you were aware that you would have less than a week together in Italy but it would be enough.

"Your family is waiting," you whispered,

"I'll see you soon y/n," he whispered back,

"I hope so." you watched him walk back to his family and left before they could catch another glimpse of you.

--- Day One ---

The next morning you got dressed for whatever the day presented with. You walked to a near cafe for a freshly brewed cappuccino and buttered pastry.

You were in the middle of journaling your trip so far, about to detail the discourse of the night before, when said discourse sat across from you.

"Morning stranger, I was just going to text you," he said with sunglasses on.

You nonchalantly closed your journal, "Were you? before or after ordering breakfast?"

"Well it looks like you just finished yours," he reached to the small and last portion of your croissant,

"You know what Fantilli, you are making a habit of eating my food."

"I'll make it up to you, c'mon," he softly grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the incoming tourist traffic,

"And where are we going?" you struggled to put your journal back into your bag.

"It's a surprise."

"Let me guess, the beach?"

"Somewhere where only the locals know about," he teased his idea. He noticed his hand was now intertwined with yours and hesitated to remove his hand. Before you even noticed his hand placement, he slyly moved his away to fix his hair under his hat.

After complaining of walking for at least 15 minutes, you finally went off trail, into nature, walking on sand to a huge cove opening of a secluded beach. The both of you stood in the cove's shade, watching the small waves crashing onto shore.

"I'll give you props of your local knowledge," you yelled over the ocean's noise that echoed in the cove with your hands on your hips.

"Does it make up for the croissant?"

"It does. But you still ate my gelato last night,"

"Yeah I knew you wouldn't forget about that so I have another surprise location after this one,"

"Woah, you came prepared Fantilli," you jokingly pushed him away, noticing his newfound confidence in comparison of last night.

"Do you have swim shorts on?" you asked him, inching closer towards the shore,

"Like you said, I came prepared."

"Then, last one to the water owes the other a gelato!" you bolted running halfway through your sentence, tossing your bag to the side, leaving Adam shocked but he was right after you.

Adam was far behind to see you swiftly take off your sundress and dive into the cool clear waters. Coming up for air, you saw him struggle to take off his regular shorts on the shore, leaving him embarrassed by your gaze.

"C'mon Fantilli, do you need my help?!" you yelled across the distance with a smirk. Soon he came into the water too, his shoulders shaking from the cold.

"You owe me a gelato." you said with a grin.

"Fine. But I'll just eat some of it, again." he said with a dumb smirk,

"I won't let you," you splashed a bit of water at him which ensued in a way too serious water fight. After both of you surrendering for the nth time and coughing up water, you dried out in the sun. You started a new journal entry, describing the cove and its scenery.

Adam on the other hand, noticed your small camera in an open pocket of your bag, and took it to himself to capture the late morning with photographs. He caught a single candid of you journaling, the immediate next shot was you noticing him taking pictures.

"What are doing?"

"Capturing memories." he turned the camera over the take a selfie of the two of you, "smile!"

You snatched your camera back to look at the photos and they were actually pretty good.

"So where is this second secret location, hm?"

"It's a secret for a reason."

“I don’t like secrets.” you admitted

“Yeah I can tell.”

“Don’t be rude.” you nudged his shoulder again

“I’m not, I’m just making an observation.” he laughed at your faked offense,

“Just promise me we won’t have to walk as far.”

“I promise we won’t have to walk at all.”

“Now I’m starting to like the sound of this.”

After drying in the sun completely you made it back to the city to call a taxi to take you said secret location.

The taxi dropped you off in the outskirts of the city, off the road there was a large shed of racks on racks of bicycles.

“Okay what exactly is this secret location?” you asked perplexed,

“This is only halfway to our destination, we bike the rest way in.”

Adam rented two bikes for the both of you and although you were caught off guard, you enjoyed biking, catching a breeze rather than walking in uncomfortable shoes.

You wanted to bug Adam again of where you were going on the ride to there, but you soon figured it out. In the distance there were rows of what you assumed were grape vines.

You were so preoccupied of where you were going that you didn’t appreciate the view of the countryside. It was beautiful to say the least, the skies were clear expect with big silky white clouds, the fields were bright green with patches of yellow, and the winding hills in the distance were mesmerizing.

When you reached the vineyard there was again racks on racks of bikes and once stocked away, Adam guided you to join a tour of wine tasting the freshest grapes of Italy, at least that’s what he said.

You weren’t a big drinker, nor a fan of wine but it felt appropriate to wine taste when in Italy. You didn’t want to drink too much because you did have to bike back. Which left you curious on how many people crashed into bushes on the way back.

Luckily the vineyard also had a restaurant so you could finally get something proper to eat along with the alcohol.

“Cheers,” you clinked your glass with Adam’s as the crumbs of lunch sat on your plates.

"I'll give you credit Fantilli, your locations are superb for a tourist like me. I've been graced with your existence to be my personal guide." You had a trait for theatrics.

"Thank you, but to be regarded as only a personal tourist guide hurts a little." Adam put his hand over his heart. He reached your level of theatrics very well.

"Okay in addition to a phenomenal guide, you are becoming a friendly friend."

"Friendly friend." he repeated robotically, mocking you.

"That is what I said." you took another sip of your wine to hide your embarrassment on how to describe what the two of you have. Luckily the waiter had returned with none other than strawberry gelato.

"Here you go, friendly friend, your promised gelato." He pushed the bowl towards you, "And I promise this time I won't eat it," you could tell he meant it as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"How nice of you," you took the first bite of the cold dessert which was much needed for the hot and fun day you two had. Which only made you feel bad for him.

"Do you want some?" you asked as licked your spoon clean,

He stumbled onto his words as he stared at you, "Nope I'm good."

If he really wanted some he would order one for himself, you thought. But hell, he can have a spoonful or two of your gelato. He's made a habit of paying for them so might as well.

You slightly sighed as you pushed the bowl towards him, "Go ahead have some."

"I'm fine really. Plus I bought it for you since you won fair and square." He tried to be humble but you could read him like a book in the moment.

"I can practically hear your salivating all the way from here." You dipped a new spoon into the bowl and gestured to him, "So have some."

"Are you sure?" he finally broke as he uncrossed his arms,

"Yes I'm sure. I don't want you passing out from not eating a cold soft serve on a hot day."

He didn't hesitate on your yes and dove in but was able to mumble with a mouth full, "gelato isn't a soft serve, actually."

"I should have let you passed out."

He smiled as he wiped gelato off his lips. You smiled at how stupidly cute he was. The first day spent together was short as he had plans with his family the later half of the day but promised to have a fun itinerary to spend with you.

--- Day Two ---

Your afternoon was shared with Adam this day. And he went all out this time. He told you to meet him by a near ship dock, which already had you stressed of where this was going.

He texted you the night before to wear active clothes but have a swimsuit on. When he mentioned the first you tried not to complain so early.

So you found yourself dressed in appropriate clothing waiting for him.

"Yo!" you turned to see who was calling and you saw Adam standing in a small size boat with his arms stretched out all proud.

"Hi," you walked forward, "So what's the plan for today?"

"Well do you see that island not that far away?" he pointed towards a small but very clear island across the water, "There is one my best local locations, but we have to get there on boat, obviously." he stretched out his hand to help you step inside.

"And whose boat is this?" you asked out of concern how costly these expenses were,

"My family's." he said with a soft smile. You couldn't tell if that was better or worse.

You placed your bag on the many of available seats, "Okay, so whose steering the boat?" you turned to him with your hands on your hips, looking for any other sign of the driver.

Your eyes followed Adam as he got behind the wheel, staring the engine, turning back to you; "I'm your captain this evening." he said with a big grin as he steered away from the dock, making you lose your balance,

"Oh! Of course you are!" you sarcastically yell over the loud engine. We are so dead, you thought, as you sat down in the passenger seat.

You held onto your hat as the strong winds were begging to pull it off your head. Adam noticed your uneasiness and tried to calm you with his stories of driving since a young age. After the short ride to the island and docking safely you felt slightly confident into his skills.

As soon as you two docked, you didn't notice much of the Island besides a small beach and the mountain itself.

"We're not hiking this Island, are we?" you asked as you both walked towards a base of a trail,

"Fortunately, yes." he answered as he fidgeted with his sunglasses on his nose,

"You do remember me complaining of walking yesterday right?"

"Yep" he said ever so nonchalantly

"So you thought hiking would be the next best thing to do?" you tried to reciprocate his calm demeanor but you could already imagine how sore your legs would be in the morning.

"Listen, the hike is not that bad and the view on top is rewarding!"

Ten minutes into climbing elevation, he lied. You were trying your best to control your breathing as he looked like he was barely breathing.

He was kind enough to stay with your pace though, "Just a little more," he said to inspire motivation,

"Out of curiosity, why are you not heaving like me?" He tried to laugh it off until you came to a stop. You were glad his answer was long enough for you to probe with more questions to give you a break. Nevertheless his answer left you surprised and impressed.

"Now you know why Ohio wasn't my first choice." He grabbed you hand and pulled you to keep on walking.

Now, you didn't hike the whole Island but just high enough to make matters worse, cliff jump. Still holding your hand, Adam slowly guided you towards an opening of trees and bushes to look over a cliff at dark blue water, which only made you feel sick.

"This view is not rewarding. My stomach is churning." you admitted as you pulled back from the scary view, removing your hand from his.

"Oh c'mon we are barely that high up,"

"We are high enough! Even if I were to jump, how do we get our clothes back?" you stared at him intently waiting for an answer,

He just stood there grimacing knowing you wouldn't like the answer, "We hike back...?"

"You're joking." you say exasperatedly. You didn't say it aloud, but these plans were a huge downgrade the day before.

He stepped forward and grabbed your hands, "We already made it up here and technically there is only one fun way down, so why not?"

You stood there staring at him blankly. "I'll hike back alone to get our stuff. Would you do it then?" he tried to negotiate but you were not budging,

"You would have to throw me off this cliff before I jump." your statement led him to raise an eyebrow and smirk,

"You are not throwing me off this damn cliff!" you lightly pushed his arms away,

"I would never. But think about it, if you jump you don't have to walk or hike at all!"

"If I jump, I'll probably never walk again!"

He tried to hold back a laugh, "Literally we are not that high up and if you land right you'll be fine. We'll jump together and I'll make sure."

You looked at him like he was crazy. You slowly walked over to peek over the cliff again and you guessed it wasn't that high. You shut your eyes tight and cursed him out in your head.

"Fuck it if this dive doesn't kill me you better hope it does." You started to take off your shoes and clothes revealing your swimsuit.

Adam stood there watching you and how quickly your mood changed, "You better start stripping because this adrenaline is temporary." He quickly followed suit and was ready to jump.

Your body shook in nerves and excitement, "Ready?" he asked as he held your again for the nth time,

All you could sound out was a scared mhm as you squeezed his hand. Then he started counting, "One...Two...Three!" You felt your body go numb as you ran off that cliff, involuntarily screaming before holding your breath for the cold impact. You opened your eyes underwater as you quickly tried to swim back up for air.

As soon as you broke the surface you looked for Adam. When you found him he broke the surface too and flipped his soaked hair behind him. When he saw you, he smiled making you break out into a huge grin, "You did it!" he yelled in pride,

"That was insane!" you bursted out laughing, almost turning hysterical but Adam started laughing too.

As the ocean's movement was nudging you, you admired at the island and it's size. You took in nature's colors from the dark blue water to the grey and browns rock formation to the bright green foliage of the trees. The sun was heading west on the opposite side, leaving you and Adam to float in the Island's shade.

As your adrenaline started to wear off, you started to feel how cold the water really was and decided to swim back to shore.

As you walked back to the dock, Adam asked, "So do you still want to kill me?"

"Not at the moment, no. Just don't try that scenario ever again."

You patiently waited, wrapped in a towel, for Adam to bring back your stuff, and you didn't feel any bit guilty for it.

He made it back less than 20 minutes, as you saw a glimpse of him jogging down the hill with your bag around him.

"Here you go, my lady" he passed you your bag, out of breath.

"Thank you, kind sir." you slipped on a sun dress you packed away.

After a few minutes of readjusting, you were on your way back to the mainland. Just in time as golden hour was setting in. The cool breeze felt calming after that rush. The breeze slowed down as the boat came to a slow stop.

"What's wrong?" you asked Adam, assuming the worst, if you two were now stranded right between two land markings.

"Just wanted to stop for a bit to enjoy the sunset on the water," He made his way over the rear of the boat with the cushioned seats. You followed his actions, taking a seat next to him; your torsos turned to the vast water. It was nature's silence filled with the calm waves splashing against the boat. Both of you sat there in shared existence, wishing the moment could last longer than it would end.

Adam turned his head to look at you, he noticed how the sun lit up your warm skin tone perfectly. How the golden hour made your hair shine. He couldn't describe it more awkwardly by saying, "You look shiny."

You furrowed your brows with a smirk on your face, "shiny?" you questioned as you looked at him,

"I mean you're glowing." he stumbled over his vocabulary as he wanted to smack himself,

"Glowing?" you poked fun at him crumbling right before your eyes.

"Ugh the sun is hitting your face perfectly. You look good." he said tired of his attempts to simply compliment a girl.

You reiterated plainly as possible, "I look good." ensuing him to groan in embarrassment, covering his face with his hands.

You nudge his shoulder laughing at his embarrassment, "You're adorable," you whisper.

You sat there, hugging your knees, laying your head on them as you admired the boy who has made this trip more special than you could have possibly imagined.

He turned to look at you only to be met with your intimidating gaze, but he held it as he realized for the past 48 hours, his mind has been flooded of you and only you.

As he held your shared gaze, you lifted your head, straightening your posture expecting him to lean forward. Although he considers it, he turns away and clears his throat, "We should head back before it gets dark."

He leaves you sitting at the back of the boat to start the engine. You could have sworn something was happening but didn't think twice of it. You pulled out your journal and began to start a new entry for the unexpectedly thrilling day.

Adam, now seated behind the helm, peered back at you as he started to drive off. He put his sunglasses back on as he shook his head at himself, stupid, he whispered to himself.

--- Day Three ---

The evening of the boat was two days ago. And in the habit of texting, sending voice messages, and calling whenever possible Adam had said his family were insistent on the plans they made beforehand so he couldn't meet you often as he wanted. With unfortunate timing, today was your last full day in Italy, tomorrow morning you will be on a flight back home.

You spent half the day to yourself checking things off your bucket list and trying all the cafes social media influencers suggested. When Adam texted you he was finally available, you told him you wanted to shop at a local market to buy some souvenirs. In less than half an hour he was able to meet you there, props to his running skills.

He found you admiring the gold necklaces at one stand, chatting with the vendor. He admired how bright your face lit up as you laughed, even with blacked-out shades on that made you look so, in the nicest way possible, unapproachable.

He stayed away for a bit to catch his breath. He found himself always running for you, but he would never complain. As he slowed his breath he found a site that he never thought would bother him as much as it did.

He felt his body freeze and go numb as he saw that famous smile of yours show because of a young man. He had dark, almost black hair and was slightly taller than Adam. He saw how he took the necklace you were looking at from your hands and positioned it around your neck. There was a small mirror hanged up and the man guided you to turn towards it to get a better look.

He saw your reflection as you nodded to whatever he was saying. Adam felt his jaw clenching as he saw the man move your hair off your shoulder to help you better.

As the vendor's son was trying to convince you the necklace was perfect for you, your eyes caught Adam in the reflection behind you. You turned to the overly kind man and thanked him but declined his offer for now.

You lightly jogged towards Adam and noticed his stoic expression, "Hey stranger, haven't seen you in a while," It was like he didn't even noticed you ran up to him, his gaze was still stuck on the tall dark haired man.

You placed your shades on your head, "Hello?" you grabbed his left hand to sway it side to side. Your touch is what finally made him acknowledge your presence.

"I don’t see you for two days and you’re already trying to replace me with another Italian?" he sounded so literal but he was joking, kind of.

You noticed how he looked down at you with an ever so slight pout. So you couldn't help to tease him, "Don't kid yourself Fantilli, you're from Nobleton, not Tuscany." you kept fidgeting with his hand,

His jaw dropped just a bit before he pulled his hand away after that comment, "So I'm not Italian enough for you?" he scoffed.

"No I guess not" you say in a sad voice with a pouty lip before grinning,

He crossed his arms across his chest, "I could easily use my Italian skills to get you half the price of whatever jewelry you want."

"Wait you're Italian? You haven't said so at all!?" you replied sarcastically to how many times you've heard the word Italian in a conversation.

He rolled his eyes, making you giggle, as he took two steps to walk away. You stopped him with your hand on his chest to bring him back in front of you,

"I'm just messing with you Adam, I mean your last name speaks for itself does it not?" you smiled up at him hoping you didn't actually hurt his feelings.

"You're a bully." he muttered as he looked at the general view of the market, avoiding your eyes.

"Hmm, I don't think so. But if you say so!" You interlocked your hand with his, "C'mon I really want that necklace and like you said I could use your useful Italian skills." you enunciated the overused word,

"You can get a similar necklace from another vendor." Adam stated as he led the way to another jewelry vendor, "They all sale the same products anyway." he muttered in annoyance at how he couldn't stay mad at you long.

With his help, Adam suggested and was kind enough to buy another a piece of jewelry you were eyeing. And of course he helped you to wear it as soon as you bought it. After more window shopping, you headed to have your final dinner in Italy. It was also the final shared dinner with Adam, but it was fulfilling. As you took advantage of consuming alcohol in a foreign country, conversation flowed with curiosity as you and Adam learned more about each other and life back home. Even if both of your homes were far away from each other.

“I’m gonna miss authentic strawberry gelato,” you licked your lips as you and Adam walked to the outskirts of the nearest beach. You suggested to stargaze on the beach after dinner.

“You have me to thank for that.” He bolstered himself as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you finally met sand.

As you walked a bit further to find the perfect spot to lay down, you plopped yourself to the ground, pulling on Adam’s arm with you. As you laid back you saw the twinkling stars spinning, most likely from the wine.

Adam laid down right next to you and admired the same stars, his stars not spinning as much.

“This is nice,” he whispered over the soft waves,

“This is perfect.” you whispered back,

Your left hand hesitantly searched for Adam’s and once you found it, he instantly interlocked his fingers with yours. He fidgeted with one of the rings he bought you a few hours earlier.

After the shared moment with the ocean as ambient noise, Adam sat up, making you copy him.

“Should we take a final swim?” He asked as he looked ahead at the moon reflected water,

“I don’t have a swimsuit under my dress,” you practically replied,

“So?” he said confidently,

“What are you insinuating, Fantilli?” you started to giggle, some fault at the alcohol.

“C’mon,” he stood up and he helped you up to stand. He walked closer to the water and started to take off his shirt.

“Are serious?” you sobered up quick as you fixated on his back muscles, “the water is going to be freezing!” He continued to take off his shorts, “you might want to turn around,” he offered and he stripped completely naked.

You quickly covered your eyes and shrieked at him for his boldness, “Adam what the hell are you doing!?” You heard him laugh and heard the calm water being disturbed before he shouted from the cold.

Assuming it was safe to look, you saw him floating upright in the dark water,

“Is it cold?” You whispered-yelled, afraid of someone seeing you two but it was late at night and the streets were practically empty.

“It’s alright.” He said through chattering teeth.

“Your turn.” He yelled back from the water,

“You’re insane! I’m not stripping naked!” you crossed your arms as the chilly breeze gave you goosebumps.

“Oh c’mon it’s your last night here, you have to do something insane like skinny dipping!”

You stood there contemplating. If you were going to be honest, you really did want to. You were just afraid of someone catching you two.

“You’ll regret if you don’t.” he broke your silence,

“Turn around!” You caught a glimpse of him smiling before turning around and covering his eyes. You did a final scope of the area and swiftly took of your dress and underwear. You slowly stepped into the freezing water, which felt like torture.

“It’s fucking freezing,” you nudged Adam’s shoulder as he finally turned around.

He smiled very mischievously, “What?” you nervously chuckled

“We’re both entirely naked, yet we can’t see each other because it’s so dark out.” His smile turned into a smirk.

You rolled your eyes and splashed him, not too hard because you were still afraid of being too loud. But that was hopeless as Adam splashed you back harder, ensuing part two of the water fight from the first day.

“Adam stop!” you tried to grab his hands from making any more noise. He finally put his hands down stifling his laughter at your nerves.

“We’re definitely gonna get caught with your loud ass,” you flicked water at him for the final time.

“No we’re not.” he whispered back as he flicked water at you for the final time too.

You stared at him wondering how he’s not at all worried as you are. He stared at you finding how adorable your concern was. The more you stared into his eyes and examining his face, you realized he was doing the exact same thing.

“Why are you staring at me?” you scoffed at his gaze,

“You were staring at me first.” he said matter of factly

“No I wasn’t.” you scoffed again.

Besides the water slightly rippling from trying to stay afloat, something change. You were no longer cold, as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. You noticed how shallow your breathing and how it matched to Adam’s.

Adam felt the change too. He felt his heart racing, he could hear his blood pumping through his ears. His eyes wandered over your face and looked down at your lips.

He slightly cocked his head as he leaned forward, almost immediately you reciprocated as you two slowly kissed in the ocean. Before your lips could savor his touch, your mind pulled you away from him.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologized as soon as he felt your lips disconnected from his.

“No it’s okay. I just wasn’t prepared.” you tried to cool your warm cheeks with the saltwater but it didn’t help. “I didn’t think I was going to kiss you tonight.” you admitted.

“Really? Because I’ve been thinking about it non stop since we were on the boat.” He confessed as he tried to cool the back of his neck with the surrounding water, it didn’t work either.

“Yeah- I mean- I thought about that moment on the boat too. I guess I wasn’t sure if you were going to kiss me or not.”

“I wanted too. I really did, I was just second guessing myself, so I didn’t.” he trailed off his sentence as honesty poured out from the both of you.

Both of you floated there in silence which made you giggle. Before Adam could question you, you pulled him closer for another, longer and sensual, kiss. Neither of you pulling away but each others lips melting into one another’s.

You felt his lips smile making you reciprocate but your paranoia was getting to you again as things were escalating in the water. So when you pulled away to see if anyone was nearby, Adam’s forehead bumped into your nose as he followed your lips for another kiss.

“Ow” you said simultaneously. Both of you laughed it off, Adam cutting off your laughter with multiple swift kisses.

You put a hand on his chest to stop him, “Okay lover boy, let’s get out of here before I wrinkle like a raisin.”

You got out first to dress and Adam followed second. As soon as you both got dressed, he pulled you into another kiss on the beach, making smile into the kiss, again.

He walked you back to your hotel, holding hands of course. Both of you, but Adam especially, were acting delirious. A teenage summer romance in Italy, it couldn’t be anymore perfect.

You dreadfully reached the outside of your building, signaling the end of this night and trip. You turned to Adam for the final time that night, “I’m leaving tomorrow.” You whispered as you wrapped your arms around him as you gazed up at him.

“I’m aware.” He snaked his arms around you.

“It just had to be the last hour we have together for you to kiss me.” You placed the blame on him for not speeding up the process.

“Trust me I’ve been beating myself up since our boating day.” He titled his head back in frustration.

Although the moment was bitter sweet you were elated to get to know Adam, spend your trip with him, and to fall for him.

“Adam, it’s late. I should head in, I still have to pack.” you picked at his chain around his neck.

“Right.” he hoarsely whispered. For a second he had forgotten that the sun would rise again and you would leave to go back home.

“Adam?” you softly held the side of his face to make him to look at you,

“Hm?” he softly responded,

“Will you see me out tomorrow morning? A taxi will be picking me up right here. Can we say goodbye then?”

He fondly smiles as he nods into your hand. You move your hand to the back of his neck. Steadying yourself onto your tip toes to pull him into a kiss. You pulled away first, like always. You whispered, “I’ll see you in the morning.” you took one more look at him for the night and walked inside.

Adam’s long walk back to his bed felt short as he relived the night. The smell your perfume on him. The feel your touch on his lips. He didn’t think of the goodbye. He only thought that he would see you again tomorrow.

--- Final Minutes ---

You regretted booking such an early flight. Too early to have a final Italian breakfast. You would have something at the airport, you thought as you heard your stomach growl.

You messaged Adam last night right after you headed inside what time to meet you, wincing at how early the time would be.

Now you were waiting, in the lobby with your bags, for the taxi to pull up. You checked your phone noticing Adam hadn’t texted you since last night’s meeting time confirmation.

You started to feel a knot in your stomach. Even after what happened last night, hell the whole trip: you second guessed Adam’s intentions. What if he slept in? Or worse, he didn’t show up at all? You were hoping neither.

You saw a taxi pull up front the glass windows of the lobby and stood up with shaky knees because Adam still hadn’t arrived.

As you walked outside, looking around to find him running like you always found him, you didn’t see him. You sighed as you confirmed the taxi was indeed for you. You popped the trunk as you struggled to place your luggage inside. You took one more panoramic glance and opened the back seat door.

“Wait!” you heard someone faintly yell and you knew it was him.

You saw him run up the hilly street, the same road you two walked up last night from the beach. You shook your head as he struggled to sprint up the road. As he neared, you told the driver to wait a few a minutes.

You crossed your arms and leaned back on the cars rear, visibly judging Adam’s tardiness.

“I’m so sorry. I kind of slept in, I got home late last night, but that’s no excuse. Sorry. But you’re still here and now I’m here!” He rambled on showing clear remorse, which only made you grin.

“For a second Fantilli, I thought I imagined everything that happened last night.” you softly laughed off your worries now that his presence proved otherwise.

“Everything that happened last night was very real to me.” He stated its importance of the previous late night.

“And now it’s all coming to an end.” You stood up straight, never losing his eye contact.

“Maybe it’s the end of us in Italy, but it could be more back in the states?” he ended his sentence with hope making you smile, yet again.

“If you wanna say something Fantilli, now’s your chance.” you softly chuckled at his still timid self.

“Will I see you again?” He tucked both of his hands into his pockets, nervous for your response.

“Maybe, who knows?” you shrugged your shoulders sarcastically, “Maybe I’ll see you in Ohio.” you smiled fondly at him,

“Or LA.” he replies as he remembers your first ever conversation.

“Or LA.” you repeated softly.

There was a melancholy silence shared between you two that was quickly interrupted with the taxi drivers loud horn, making both of you jump.

As you admired Adam’s laugh and smile for the last time, you pulled him in for a goodbye kiss. He quickly melted into you, his hands finding your hip and face. This kiss lasting the longest, it was Adam who pulled away first, only inches from your face as he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ll see you whenever and wherever, Fantilli.” you whispered to him. You titled your head back to give him a soft kiss.

“Goodbye Adam.”

“Goodbye y/n.”

Adam stood there body warm and sweaty from his run but also how naturally you made him felt. He stared at your taxi driving off. As he went to turn around he saw your head pop out the window, dramatically sending him an air kiss. He laughs at your behavior, indulging your antics by dramatically catching it.

As he saw your head pop back into the car he felt his phone buzz. A text message from no one other than you, reading:

Save that kiss, it’ll be a while before I can kiss you again.

#adam fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #nhl imagine #jells🪼imagines #latina!reader

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