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#its still pretty short but idc

beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months

Text

Pretend It's Someone That Came for You (18+)

pairing: coworker!wonwoo x fem!touch-starved!reader

genre: coworker au, office au, strangers to lovers, angst w a happy ending, smut (MDNI!!), fluffy fluffy fluff fluff

description: you're lonely. you're so lonely you think it might actually kill you. but when wonwoo transfers to your office, he might just change that fact.

warnings: unprotected sex (do NOT pls my babes), soft dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, v loving sex, praise (f. receiving), confession of love, riding, fingering (f. receiving), pussy rubbing tihi, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, baby, darling, etc), VERY angsty beginning, yn is truly v sad so DO NOT READ THIS if u fear it will make u sad!!, they say i love u unrealistically fast but i had to do it, yn uses sex to feel less lonely/ends up feeling more lonely, relatable yn frs, slightly dramatized symptoms of touch-starvation (?), kinda boring plot but idc bc its CUTE AF

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "finally!!" (she was fed tf up), "stanley is the most stanley man ever. i hate him but i love him.", (more r coming she actually didnt have time 2 read this and i didnt want to wait with posting.)

wordcount: 10.0k

a/n: this story was supposed 2 have more angst, like it was supposed to have this whole misunderstanding, but it just didnt feel right, it made me sad, so instead this is a short n sweet love story xx

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

You weren’t always like this. You remember being a sociable, joyful child; half-broken bikes and teddy bears and booster seats. You remember pigtails and popsicle sticks and Power Rangers, and what came after that? Being a moody teenager, became being a moody adult. High school became college, and college became an office job that served to keep you alive, even if it didn’t feel like being alive. College wasn’t that bad, you remember, so at what point had you mistaken isolation for privilege? And at what point had you gone too far into that tunnel-hole to turn back?

You must’ve been cursed, you think, putting on your outfit for work in the deadly still apartment. Dust dares not move, dares not give you hope that you are not alone.

You must’ve been cursed, you think, coming into work to a string of half-hearted, mumbled greetings. Your office is off-white and black and gray and everyone inhabiting it is also off-white and black and gray, and their skin is faintly oily and sickly and their faces are dragging down as if the very earth was reclaiming them and you think that you fit in here better than anywhere else.

You must’ve been cursed, you think, when you spend your day writing emails and organizing documents of information into different formats to send to huge corporations. Sometimes you fantasize about the other end of the transaction. Maybe their office is warm and brown with an accent of blue, and maybe people put hands on each other's shoulders, when they tell one another they’ve done a good job.

Yes, there’s no other explanation, you think, and can’t even muster the energy to feel bad when you blame some old hag from your hometown. You think she must’ve conjured up the worst ingredients, something cartoonishly evil, and a spell befell you, sunk into the crevices of your skin and dug into your pores.

You lie on your couch with a glass of wine and the television going, but you’re not really listening. You don’t think anyone has touched you in six months. You’re not even sure you’re real anymore. You swear, you could live with no one hearing you out, because you’re not sure you’d have anything worthwhile to say, but you just needed someone to touch you. To reach out a hand and confirm, you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips, and I’m squeezing your shoulder, and I see you, and I feel you right here.

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

Lying physically very still, you still feel like you’re scrambling, fighting the clutch of the curse, and tugging on metal chains. Maybe that’s where all your energy goes.

What do normal people do when they feel this bad?

Sometimes you leave open the window, and when the wind tugs at your door, you pretend it’s someone that came for you.

Tug, tug, tug. The door rattles against its hinges when the fatally empty sky brings to you, in outstretched palms, the wind interlaced with glimmers of hope.

There’s never anyone at the door. _____________________________

This particular day starts like any other. You wake to your alarm and you put on clothes and you get ready and brush your teeth. Then you trample down to the bus stop. The sky is smothered by a duvet of heavy rain clouds. The rain hasn't come yet, but you know it will. Your fingers become stiff and hard, where they adhere to the polyester strap of your bag, massaging it. The bag is cold and dead.

The bus ride is by far the greatest part of your day. It’s quiet - early enough that you’re only accompanied by a few other souls. You rest your head on the window, vibrating gently against the curve of your forehead, and watch the people in the street.

The bus hums a gentle tune and snakes down the streets. Then you’re there, and whatever solace that it offers you under artificial light and mediocre, felted seats is gone.

Your office building is maybe the most depressing place on earth. It’s no glamorous feat of architecture. It is but a large, orange-y, puke-y, brick square, and the building is shared between yours and the Forester company. You don’t talk to the Foresters, but you know they eat cream cheese bagels on their breaks and throw birthday parties and once you saw the branch manager squeezing a salesman’s shoulder and telling him he had done a good job. His fingers squeezed down and the movement of the fabric revealed a shoulder pad built into the suit. You remember thinking it was a shame that it blocked the real touch.

Today, you walk up the stairs with heavy steps and you idle into the office building, eyes cast down to the dirty, gray carpet. You begin the long trek into the back of the building where your desk is located.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.

“Morning.”

“M-”

Wait a minute.

Your greeting falls short. You don’t recognize that voice. Stopping in your tracks, your shoes scratch on the rough carpet, and lift your head to see him.

The first thing you notice is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. He looks like he jumped out of an underwear commercial; he’s all strong jawline, sharp eyes, round glasses on his pretty nose, neatly trimmed, short dark hair stretching down the planes of his face. He’s wearing a button up (usually you wouldn’t even register the clothing your coworkers adorned, but something about how he wore it was noteworthy), a tie draping over the dress shirt, and formal slacks hugging his thighs.

He smiles at you sheepishly, hands nervously smoothing down his thighs.

“I’m Wonwoo” he says curtly, nodding to you. “Just transferred from the Wallingset branch.”

You nod. “Right. Wallingset,” you nod more. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/n.”

Something about your name on his lips makes your heart flutter. It’s pathetic, you know, but his peregrine being in his office chair, spilling your name from his pink lips makes you feel a little more real. You look at him and then you nod again-again, kicking your legs into gear again and walking the last stretch to your desk.

You can see the back of his head from your orange-wood desk. Papers and sticky notes are scattered among the desktop. The monitor watches you accusingly, all big and square and black, waiting for you to open it up and begin working. Your eyes linger on him for a moment. Then you work.

A few hours pass on emails and translating information from a company into a comprehensive sheet. However, today you’re having a hard time focusing on work.

This is not new.

Sometimes you briefly talk to a man at the grocery store, and your mind will wander to him for next week, wondering if he’s thinking about you too, imagining yourself cuddling with him, watching movies, imagining him telling you it’ll all be okay. Sometimes you briefly talk to a man on the street, sometimes it’s even a date, but whatever the case you obsess and you dream and you always end up alone.

Today the victim of your depraved mind is Wonwoo. The guilt is easy to push away. You feel sorry for yourself. You think you deserve this. You think you can’t survive without this. And so you imagine him hugging you, stroking your hair, and you imagine him falling in love with you, and you imagine not being alone. Your fingers rest on your keyboard. It’s old and mechanical. You think it’s from a yard sale, probably an old woman whose children moved away. It’s plastic, and it curves inwards underneath the pads of your fingertips. The keys are cold and dead.

You fully zone out, eyes blearing into the back of his head, but you don’t really see it, your mind has traveled elsewhere. You guiltily imagine his hand between your legs, on your chest, straddling him, kissing him. And it’s not rough, it’s loving, because in this world he loves you, and he’d do anything for you, and you don’t have to be alone again.

You don’t love Wonwoo. It’s not some magical love at first sight, it’s not a romance book, it’s real life. You’re lonely. You need this to survive.

“Hey, Y/n?”

You snap your head up. Maybe you were still daydreaming. But you recognized the voice well and true, and it was Wonwoo, leaned over your desk, hands in his pockets.

“Oh, uhm, hey-” your voice is shaky and you quickly rush to compose yourself, hands moving frantically and uselessly to glide papers over one another and, then, realizing that there was no point to your movements, stilling and looking up at him, cheeks flushed. “Hey.”

Wonwoo smiles gently. “Uh, you know, I was wondering,” he looks around the office, as if surveying the area. “If you knew where to get a good lunch? I don’t know this area at all, so..”

He trails off, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Now that he’s standing before you, it’s much harder to ignore the guilt you feel. You wanna gnaw at your nails until they’re nubs, you want to crawl under your desk and cover your eyes. Does he see how red your cheeks are?

“Uhm- well- I don’t- I eat a packed lunch, so I’m-”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, no expert,” you giggle awkwardly and watch his gentle smile drop into pursed lips. “But! Uh- I hear the- the hot dog stand, uh, just a little down the street is good!”

“Really? Maybe I should try it,” he contemplates, smile returning to his lips. “Would you mind showing me this mysterious hot dog stand?”

“Uh-”

Just seconds before you were thinking of his fingers in your pussy, and his hands caressing you, and him making you feel loved. He’s standing before you and he’s a totally normal guy, and you feel like shit. You feel like shit for using this fake image of him to comfort yourself. You can’t be around him, can’t convince yourself that maybe this’ll turn into something more - not when you always end up alone. Your brows furrow in determination.

“Actually, I have to, uh, get this done, so-” you gesture vaguely to your monitor.

“Right! Yeah,” Wonwoo seems embarrassed, biting his lips and nodding. “It’s, uh, just down the street?”

“Yeah, to the right when you walk out the building.”

“For sure. Thanks,” he doesn’t even look at you then, just waves you off half-heartedly and starts trailing down the office. His shoulders are incredibly broad and his belt wraps tightly around his small waist.

You feel like shit. _____________________________

Why is no one else cursed?

You look out of the window, lying on your bed after work. Everything is very still and unmoving - your whole apartment feels like it’s knotted in strings, tightened until everything is snapped into place, and if you move the wrong muscles, the invisible hands will let go and everything will fly and hurdle through your home, and you can almost hear the sound, like the hard, empty sound of throwing a bowling ball and getting a strike.

No one else is cursed. People crowd the streets with friends, family, partners, and they’re talking and laughing. You rest your head in the windowsill, a lone spectator in the window. The glass cuts you off from the streets.

The afternoon after daydreaming the way you did about Wonwoo is always hard. Your apartment seems intent on suffocating you. Your daydreams serve as a reminder that you’re alone, that you truly have no one, and the act itself is so humiliating, you sulk into a glass of red wine and sometimes you cry. What do normal people do when they feel this bad, you wonder again, sobbing in your bed and spilling wine on your nightie.

Nighttime falls early while you’re crying. You weep on and off, hug your knees, eat a microwave dinner and watch TV, light casting onto your pathetic form on the couch.

And in your most vulnerable state is when you most easily slip into your old habits.

You press an old contact in your phone, one you’d tried to steer away from recently. You wipe mascara from your reddened cheeks, you wear pretty lingerie, and you lie, completely empty, void of any warmth, on your bed, awaiting.

It’s the first time he touches you in months. When his hand finds your shoulder, you shudder terribly. Sorry, he says, and he seems taken aback. Just ignore it, you plead, just ignore it. He does so, unsurely, and every time his hand grazes over your body you shudder and sob and every time he hesitates, asking if you’re okay, you cry at him to continue.

It feels good while it’s happening. Skin beneath your fingertips, hands on you, a face close to yours. You and him are the only thing moving in the apartment, synergizing on your bed, conjoining and writhing, and for just a moment, you don’t feel so alone.

When you’re done the anonymous man stands back up, sliding on his pants in the late hour. He says it was great and you hum. But then he looks around, hesitating on every old piece of furniture, on every photo on the walls, and lastly on you.

“What?” you ask, lying naked in your bed. He grimaces at you, as if signaling that he can’t quite figure it out himself.

“I don’t know,” he says slowly, hands on his newly-clothed hips and surveying the corners of the room, where shadows pool. “It feels haunted in here.”

He leaves.

When the warmth is gone, the bile rises in your throat. Old habits die hard, you think, and you feel totally empty. You couldn’t go on like this. It was nights like these you began to feel like a martyr - sacrificing yourself for a brief escape. Because when the door is closed with a click and you’re alone again, you feel yourself trembling and your heart is glowing red in the empty astral plane. Brief, easy forms of pleasure are often the most harmful.

It feels haunted in here. You remember his words, and before you finally fall asleep, you wonder one thing. You wonder if you’re already dead. _____________________________

The next day is a pain to overcome. You’re slightly hungover, slightly sore, and very uncomfortable. But you comply with your routine, and you enjoy the bus ride, and when you get to the office everyone greets you.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” Wonwoo says. You look up from the carpet carefully, flashing him an apologetic smile. You hope he can read its intention: Sorry about being weird yesterday. You think he got it.

“Morning, Wonwoo.”

And then you’re landing yourself at your own desk and beginning work once more. It’s boring, but today you ward off the daydreams and you focus, and you’re getting an exceptional amount done.

The clock on the wall (off-white, but yellowing near the top) reads 12:28 when your boss, Stan, approaches your table. He’s half bald, and his suit is much too loose, and he has a ladder of wrinkles climbing his larger-than-life forehead.

“Hey, N/n!” he calls, so loud that a couple of heads turn at the commotion. You’ve asked him several times not to call you that.

“Stanley,” you breathe, tapping a stack of papers on your desk to neaten the pile. You wonder if you were in trouble, but if his smile is anything to go by, you’d guess not.

“My favorite woman in accounting!”

“Hehe,” you laugh half-heartedly. You catch the eye of Wonwoo, glancing over his shoulder with a small, teasing smile. You smile back.

“I have a big- oh wait, wait, new guy, uhh, Jeon? Come over here real quick!” Suddenly his solid fingers waft the now scared Wonwoo over. The spectacled man’s shoulders hunch up as he moves off the chair, nodding respectfully. Wonwoo stands beside Stanley at your desk, and you focus your attention on Stanley, hoping to not get too lost in the idea of Wonwoo again - you were doing so good today.

“I have a big job for you, and I thought you could work with Wonwoo on it,” Stan moves his hand up to cup the side of his mouth, as if telling you a big secret, “seeing as he was a bit of a star over in Wallingset.”

Shit. The guy you were daydreaming about was working with you? Wonwoo laughs, embarrassed, but you hardly have time to catch it. You can’t do this. Yesterday you were thinking about him fingering you while looking at you lovingly!

“We have a massive, new client! Just dropped a big competitor of ours, and they want us to do their six month report!” Stanley seems genuinely excited about this, so you can’t help feeling a little guilty that you’ll be a gobbering, slobbering mess, sitting beside Wonwoo on this.

“That’s great-”

“I know! So, my two star members in accountancy, I’ll hand this off to you. The data should be coming into your emails soon,” without letting either of you react, Stanley hunches over, like a coach does before a little-league baseball game, wrapping his arms around both of you and Wonwoo. “You got this, troopers!”

Stanley claps his hands on both of your backs, so hard you jerk forward at the movement, and then he bounces off to the elevator at the far end of the room. You sigh heavily from the interaction. It’s quiet for a moment, while you fiddle with the papers in front of you.

“What a guy,” Wonwoo muses finally, thin fingers resting on the edge of your desk. You giggle, unable to look him in the eye for fear that you might remember how you’d thought about starting a family with him. “Yeah.”

You and Wonwoo settle into an unoccupied meeting room, and it’s all very professional. Markers and post-its, trying to find the best way to structure the report, excel sheets to categorize and overlook data, double check numbers.

However bad you think it’s going to be, you’re wrong. Wonwoo is easy to talk to - he’s quiet, but he’s intelligent, and he understands how to bring on conversation, even when you fold in on yourself like a used napkin.

“Yeah, we used to steal signs from our neighborhood,” Wonwoo admits halfway into a conversation about your hometowns. “I don’t think that’s gonna fly anymore.”

“Why stop now? You’re letting societal rules hold you back,” you joke, and the two of you laugh, and it’s so pathetic, you’re certain you haven’t laughed this much in years, and the conversation has lasted maybe 20 minutes.

“Well, I could show you the craft, you know, it’s a delicate process-”

While Wonwoo talks your phone buzzes and you absent-mindedly pick it up, reviewing the notification.

Your grin drops. Faintly, you hear Wonwoo stop talking. He tilts his head to study the way you frown at the screen. “What’s up?” he asks.

It’s the guy from last night and he’s asking if you’ll be available again tonight.

Maybe it’s how you could almost forget it - how you let yourself into positions that would hurt you, just to feel seen and heard and touched. Maybe it’s the dichotomy of that encounter and now, talking to Wonwoo, and having the laughter steal away the loneliness. But you’re reminded so terribly of your position. You’re reminded that this, too, will end, and that the loneliness will return. You’re reminded that once the shift ends, you’re alone again.

Suddenly you’re a thousand daggers all pointing out. You shield yourself.

“Uh,” you trail off, putting the phone down again. “Just some guy.”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows raise. “Boyfriend?”

“No!” you say quickly. “No, he’s, uh. Just some guy.”

A pause.

“Okay,” Wonwoo says. You don’t even remember where you left off the conversation. You bite your lip because everything is all agony. The table is cold and dead beneath your hand.

“I’m thinking we group these together,” you say, eyes now tuned to your screen and fully submerged back into your work. Work. That was all that could cover your beaten down, cursed self.

The rest of the shift you feel Wonwoo looking at you carefully, as if he’s trying to read you. You don’t talk about yourselves anymore, no more banter, no more witty comments. You structure the report, and try to ignore how his eyes laser you open. You don’t like it. You feel like he can tell you’re a pathetic, lonely woman and that you have nothing and no one. You feel like he can sense the curse upon you.

This would be torture. _____________________________

It is not torture.

The next day, to your surprise, Wonwoo is nowhere to be seen. You wait 5, 10, then 15 minutes in the meeting room you’d camped in, before you begin working on your own. It’s slower without him, but you manage.

You can’t help but slightly worry about him. It feels stupid. You know you’re putting too much emotion into a person you’d known for two days, but you can’t help it. You wonder if he’s gotten hurt or injured, or if maybe he hates you and has transferred back. You think even Excel finds you pathetic.

You sit there for three hours, among the ruins of paperwork and your open laptop, running your hand through your hair and typing in sentences that mean nothing, and the wallpaper is off-white and yellowing at the top, and the blinds are closed to the meeting room.

Around 1 PM the door to the meeting room is opened, wood smacking against the glass that surrounds it, and Wonwoo stands in the doorway, slightly out of breath. You snap your head up to him, like the jerk of a lifeless doll, suddenly interrupted from a very disorganized Excel sheet.

“Hi, shit, sorry,” he gasps, slinging his bag off of his shoulder to sit down next to you.

“Are you okay?” you ask immediately, and Wonwoo nods blindly, pulling his laptop out of his bag. “Yeah,” he says, cheeks slightly flushed and licking his lips. “My cat- my cat needed surgery, she got sick last night, it was an emergency.”

You nod in understanding, “it’s okay-”

You can hardly get the words out before Wonwoo rolls his chair back, wheels resounding hollowly on the floor, so he can look at you clearly. “I’m really sorry about this, it was not nice of me to leave you alone with this.” He gestures vaguely to the scattered papers, and you shake your head.

“It’s okay, Wonwoo, I get it,” you say reassuringly, peering up at him through your lashes. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re here now.”

Wonwoo seems less intent on personal conversations today - it’s probably because he was so late, and now is trying to make up the time. But it’s okay, in fact you’re somewhat relieved, because it dampens the false hope that blooms in your chest, whenever he asks you about your life.

Even if you and Wonwoo work hard and quietly, you slip into the late hours of the night in an attempt to keep on track for your schedule. Outside the windows that separate you from real life, the sky turns orange, and then dark, muted blue, and stars begin dotting its impressive stretches. People begin to leave around five, and by the time you and Wonwoo finish all your work, you’re the last ones left on your floor of the office.

Wonwoo lets out a loud sigh when he finally finishes the second segment of your report, and the both of you slump back in your seats.

“It’s so fucking late,” Wonwoo limply throws his hand in the direction of the window. You smile a little, looking out. Smaller buildings spawn geometrically from the ground, and every once in a while someone walks by with their dog, spotlighted by the stretch of street lamps that stand outside the parking lot. “I really am sorry about this, you know. Really ruined your night,” he says quietly.

You shake your head. “It’s fine, I had nothing to come home to anyway.”

There’s a pause.

Wonwoo looks at you intensely. Oh shit, you realize, was that too obvious? Was that too pathetic? Has it just clicked that you’re a loser that no one wants? You nervously look back at him, but there’s no malice in his eyes. A totally unreadable expression adorns his features, where he’s leaned back in his leather chair, legs spread invitingly. You look away, feeling dumb.

“At least we followed our schedule!” you say. Wonwoo snorts.

“Yeah, thanks to you. If you hadn’t completed so much before I got here, it would’ve been hopeless.”

Now it’s your turn to scoff, blushing lightly and looking at the linoleum flooring. “I don’t know about tha-”

“Seriously, Y/n, just take the compliment,” Wonwoo reaches a hand over, and you watch its movement.

It’s like time slows down, not like the movies, no, like you can stop time with the heavy weight of your gaze, pinning his muscles in place. But you can’t, and it lands on your shoulder with a soft thud. Fuck. His hand is warm and alive on you.

“You did so well today, I-” Wonwoo cuts himself off, because suddenly you’re trembling.

He feels your body shuddering and jerking under his hand, like the wind rattles your door when you leave it open, and he can’t see your face behind a curtain of hair, but he hears you gasp, and, fuck, you look like you’re sobbing.

The man from last night had become so hesitant when you reacted this way. When your body trembled and shook and when you cried, but Wonwoo seems to understand. He peers at you from above the rims of his glasses, and his hand stays put right there on your shoulder.

“Y/n,” he whispers, so sincere it causes a pathetic squeak to escape you. What must he think of you? The thoughts spiral and you can’t control a single one of them, they dance like freed souls in your head, and you can’t stop the spasming of your muscles, and you know you look so pathetic beside him right. “Y/n, look at me.”

You don’t. You can’t. You can’t because there are tears spilling from the rims of your eyes, and rolling down your cheeks, wet and glossy. Besides, you’re an ugly crier.

“Look at me,” he says seriously, finger tightening on your shoulder. You try to steady your breath and calm your tears, before you obey and begin to turn your chair. The simple motion requires so much effort - it’s like the air has become so thick, that the friction against your leather seat slows you down.

Finally you turn to him, eyes first resting on his knees, then, carefully, traveling up to his face. He’s frowning.

Your face is reddened and your eyes are puffy, your cheeks are shiny and you chew your bottom lip in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay.

Wonwoo looks genuinely devastated. The hand on your shoulder softens its grasp, then begins petting your arm, rubbing up and down. The action has you choking out gasps, trembling even more in his hold, and Wonwoo feels the need to roll his chair closer to you, so his other hand can grab yours. His thumb rubs over the back of it, and he lowers his head to look at you.

“Shh, relax, relax, Y/n,” he whispers, and you try to nod, but it’s so overwhelming; being touched, being seen, being heard, all at once. For months, maybe years, no one has touched you like this - as if they care. Now the feeling is foreign, so scorching hot on your arm and your hand, your body can’t take it anymore. You’re stuck between wanting to lean into his hands, wanting to feel how real you are, and how physically true your existence is, and wanting to shy away. What must he think of you?

“Y/n,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut to banish the sigh of your sobbing. “When was the last time someone touched you?”

You hiccup painfully. “Uhm- I- I don’t, ” your eyes are bleary and your lashes are wet. Your lip trembles and your whole body shakes when you try to breathe.

Apparently this was enough of an answer for Wonwoo, because he suddenly stands, somewhat harshly tugging you into a standing position too, and pulls you directly into the harbor of his arms.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his torso. His chest is pressed flat against yours, so, so warm, when he nudges your head into the crook of his neck, and presses his face against its side, sighing softly into you, and breathing warm air onto your hair. His palms push you into him, soothing your trembling body, and holding you like an anker. One hand travels up to your hair.

“W-Wonwoo, you don’t have to-”

“Shh,” he quiets you immediately, voice the softest wind of a peach tree. “Just let me take care of you.”

You do. Wonwoo holds you until you stop crying, and though it must’ve been twenty minutes or so, it feels like no time at all. Standing in his space, breathing in his dark cologne, and letting his heat thaw your dead heart is a totally timeless act. Joy and serenity flows from the places where your bodies touch. When you stop crying, Wonwoo holds you for longer.

Eventually, he lets you go.

You step back sheepishly, now much calmer and the red in your face faded. You wipe your tired eyes shyly with your sleeve.

“Thank you, Wonwoo,” you mumble, voice thick and garbled. When you look up at him, he smiles softly, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly, arm extending one last time to squeeze your forearm. Then it falls limp again.

“I, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Of course.”

When you return home, you’re buzzing. Your entire apartment buzzes along with you, things seem to clatter and beam along with the bright, glowing of your heart. You snuggle into bed and nothing is still and even when you’re drifting into sleep, your nerve endings spin in joyful circles, and your feet are a static hum. Suddenly you are very, very real. _____________________________

You’d think the next day would be tense and awkward, and maybe it is at first, but soon enough you’re talking again, more intimately than before even.

This is Wonwoo’s doing - you know this. You know he’s smart and you know he doesn’t want you to feel bad, so he makes conversation and builds trust between the two of you. You know he hopes you don’t feel insecure. Every word he says and every flick of his eyes is riddled with it.

The conversation decidedly slows down your progress, so Wonwoo once more suggests staying overtime. You look at him for a moment before agreeing.

You can’t tell what his end goal is. A chamber of your heart has been revived and rebirthed, and you’re more chipper, more bouncy, but the rest of your heart insists: you’re still cursed - eventually it’ll go back to how it should be. You listen. You try not to get your hopes up that Wonwoo really cares about you. Why should he, really?

Although when you’re done for the day, about an hour after your usual 5 PM, you stand up and begin to pack your things, laptop sliding into your bag and clustering pens in your hand. It’s gray outside, but the sun comes in a single strand through a gap in the smog and the clouds. The wind hoots by the windows, and it smells like the indian you ordered for lunch together.

You stop your packing, feeling a set of eyes in your back. You twist your head to see him.

Wonwoo is sitting completely still in his chair, slack-covered legs spread open, and he makes no move to collect his own things. He just stares.

“What’s up?” you quip. You’re slightly nervous. Just before it was all silly childhood stories, college and weed and life before the dead-end job. Now Wonwoo has that unreadable expression on his face again.

He slowly lifts his hands from the armrest, eyes locked with yours, and claps his palms on the tops of his thighs.

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Wha-”

“Come here,” he says simply. When you stand completely still, like a deer in the headlights, Wonwoo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “What? You think you’re cured because someone hugged you once?”

“Cured?”

“You’re touch-starved, Y/n,” Wonwoo states matter-of-factly, “you need to be touched.”

“Touch-starved?” you echo, a bewildered expression on your face.

“We can also just hug, like yesterday,” he suggests calmly. You envy his collectedness. “I just don’t want you to feel bad. So please. Come sit.”

To emphasize, Wonwoo pats his thighs again, patiently. You step away from your bag with hesitating steps, pursing your lips. Your cheeks blaze when you look at his thighs again - they’re so long, and the folds in his slacks stretch down and centralize on his crotch and- You’re being a pervert.

“Okay,” you squeak and Wonwoo tuts. Why is that hot, you think, why the hell is that hot?

“We can just hug if you-”

You feel bold.

Without letting him finish, you swing your leg over his, and plop down, straddling halfway down his thighs. You thank God you put pants on this morning instead of a skirt, when you look down at where you rest on top of him.

Wonwoo is a little taken aback, but when you’ve settled on him, his hands find your waist and he looks up at you with a hum. Your breathing is a little shaky. Once again his hands provide a pumping of golden joy into your body, and more of you comes alive and becomes real, and you smile.

What had Wonwoo been talking about? Touch-starved?

“What’s, um-” your question is cut off with a gasp, when Wonwoo uses his hands on your middle to tug you closer. You rest on the highest point of thighs that you can without sitting on his dick. Cheeks red and eyes squeezed shut, you hear how Wonwoo hums, pleased. “What were you talking about? Touch-starved?” you whisper, keeping your eyes shut.

Wonwoo sighs, and once more, like the movement is entirely replayed, his hand finds your hair and pushes your face into the crook of his neck. You sigh against it, enjoying how his arms protect you and hide you from the evil of the world.

“If you don’t touch anyone,” Wonwoo begins, his voice low bass in your ear, “you become touch-starved. That’s why you reacted the way you did yesterday.”

His hands run up and down your sides.

“But- but I’m not crying today,” you say quietly into his neck. Wonwoo hums.

“No, that’s good,” he says. “We can stop if you really want, I just wa-”

“No!” your voice squeaks immediately, and, as if he were running from you, you fist his shirt to keep him close.

“Okay,” there’s a smile in Wonwoo’s voice. You can’t see it but you can imagine it.

Comfortable silence. Wonwoo traces patterns on your back and you breathe deeply against the skin of his neck. The two of you function as one living thing, the only living thing left in the office. Chairs are turned halfway, a couple lights are left on. The desks betray the past presence of humans.

“Wonwoo,” you pip.

“Mhm?”

“You don’t have to do this, you know? I don’t want you to do it if you- if it’s just.. Pity.”

Wonwoo sighs, and you feel the way his torso deflates underneath you. He trails his hand up from your back to tap your cheek. You move back and look at him.

Your faces are very close, you can feel how your exhales collide and then scatter, hell, you think you could count each of his eyelashes from here.

“I already told you. I’m doing this because I don’t want you to feel bad. I-” he hesitates for a moment, pursing his lips. “I’ve been there. So I know what it’s like.”

The thought of Wonwoo feeling like this, like you, is sickening. Genuinely sickening, you feel your insides turn to rot and mold and you frown so deeply, you think your lips might forever lock in that position.

“I’m okay now,” he reassures, reading you immediately. His hand finds your cheek and he almost cries out at the way you lean into it blindly.

“How did you-.. I- I always thought it was, like, a lifelong curse,” you say.

“A curse?” Wonwoo grins, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek. It makes you happy, it makes you feel like your heart will burst.

“Yeah. I guess I just blamed some old woman from my hometown,” you giggle, blushing a little because, yes, it did sound stupid when you weren’t just echoing the theory to yourself, like playing a team sport alone.

“You’re not cursed,” Wonwoo promises, tucking your head into his chest. “I’ll help you, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you from now on.”

He does take care of you.

Every day you work overtime, and every day when you’re done with work, Wonwoo slides you into his lap and holds you, while you curl up in his chest. Then you talk and you laugh, and you listen to each other's music. His hands run warm up your back and in your hair and on your hips, gentle caresses, deeply intimate. For two weeks you and Wonwoo indulge in this nighttime ritual.

You have not felt lonely since that night. And Wonwoo can tell. Your skin is warmer and brighter, you smile wider, your eyes twinkle, and there’s energy in every movement. Your body thaws under his warm hands every night, and sometimes when you smile, he gets so happy he could kiss you.

You realize you like Wonwoo one particular night when you’re falling asleep in your bed and you can still feel the ghost of his arms around you and it lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep, and when you wake up you smell a little bit like his cologne. That’s how you realize. You like how considerate and how gentle he is, you like how sweet he is to you, you like how he looks when he smiles and when he laughs and you like how much he loves his cat. You like how his arms feel wrapped around you.

And you like him, and suddenly your apartment is a song that you dance in, and every photo on your walls is smiling and your bed is always warm and so is your heart.

There’s nothing dead in here, you think, when you cook a delicious meal on the stovetop, sauce bubbling in a stainless steel pan. Nothing haunted about your home or your heart. _____________________________

“We’re almost done.”

“Mhm.”

“I can’t believe we’re almost done!”

Wonwoo looks up, bemused, lips made small and pointed. You’re staring at the almost-done document, scrolling up and down through long and arduous paragraphs. It’s nighttime again - not that you had to stay late today, it was a choice - and the city glimmers brilliantly in the coolness. You and Wonwoo wear sweaters to keep warm.

“Feels like a lifetime,” Wonwoo murmurs, same smile upon his beautiful face. His cheekbones point out from beneath his skin.

“Yeah,” you breathe, leaning back. You won’t put your fingers back on the keyboard. Not when it could be done so soon. You look at him, all snuggled up in a brown sweater. “What if..”

A pause. He tilts his head.

“Well, are we still gonna talk?” you chew your lip dejectedly, feeling a little sad and desperate, but Wonwoo only laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, it’s one you associate with joy.

“Of course,” he says, as his laughter quiets down. “If you want to.”

A shy smile forms on your lips. You turn to look back at the computer, but you hear the now-familiar sound of Wonwoo patting his thighs. You flit your eyes back to him, teasingly scolding.

“We’re not done.”

“We don’t have to be done now,” he shrugs, an equally teasing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes, but, unsurprisingly, you shift over to him, sitting down in his lap. He immediately tugs you closer, fingers searching for stimulation on the seams of your jeans. There’s something different about Wonwoo today, you realize, his touch is more feverish, his fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips and he looks up at you like you’re a diamond-encrusted chandelier, hanging from the ceiling, all glittering jewels.

“What’s up?” you giggle nervously. It’s becoming hard to breathe with the way he paws at your hips.

There’s something in the air between you, but maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, concocting the magnetic pull that lingers between you, the thicker, heavier air, that urges you closer.

He sighs heavily, as if he was dreading this. All of a sudden composed, cool, icy Wonwoo is chewing his lip and avoiding your eyes, looking instead down where your fat gives way for his needy fingers.

“I, uh, I really like you, Y/n,” his voice shakes. “Would you. Maybe. Want to go out some time?”

At the last syllable his gaze locks on to yours, and you watch him visibly relax, because you’re fucking grinning.

Not maliciously, not crudely, not a dime or a dab of evil, only genuine joy.

“I-I would like that,” you control your smile, pointing your lips in the same way that Wonwoo does and blushing all over. Wonwoo grins too and it’s unbearably boyish.

“Okay,” he says, as if he can’t believe it. “Okay. Great.”

The window slams shut, the spell is undone by his hand, the dead defy their only law to bow to his necromancy. Wonwoo is alive and warm underneath you, and you are alive and warm on top of him, thighs pushed up against his and tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Your balloon of heart pops in your chest, and the bone-cage of your chest is filled with helium, that has you floating. Rosy and shiny, your heart beats at twice its normal speed.

There’s a lull in the conversation. It would’ve been a more comfortable silence, if you couldn’t see by how Wonwoo looks down and purses his lips, that he’s itching to say more.

Sparked by his confession, you confidently snake your hand up to tap his cheek lazily. He turns to you with a loafy smile. “What is it?”

He breathes out unsteadily.

“You’re-” he closes his eyes. “There’s so much I like about you. It- It makes me feel really bad that you weren’t feeling well, so I-”

He cringes at himself, one hand pushing away his glasses to rub the eyes underneath them.

“Can I make you feel better?” he asks vaguely.

You huff out a laugh. “Are you trying to ask if I want to have sex?”

He laughs too, behind his big hand. “No. It’s not the same, I want it to be about you!”

You laugh more, and Wonwoo’s face reappears as he lowers his hand. He looks up at you adoringly, dotingly. He’s smiling.

“I’m being serious,” he says quietly, when you finish. He seems less embarrassed now, more so smug. “I want to make you feel good.”

He’s paying an awful lot of attention to your hips, which he has not let up massaging and squeezing roughly.

“Can I..?” he begins, eyes fixed on your hips in his lap. “Can I make you cum?”

Then, slowly, Wonwoo lifts his hands and gently places them around on your face. His touch is always as soft as a hope-laced wind. He’s warm and he’s alive and he’s holding onto you, and you see it in his eyes: you’re real, you’re right underneath my fingertips.

“Please.”

That’s all he needs, before he presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is everything you want it to be; because it’s loving. It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s gentle, there’s no tongue, just the soft, warm, real, alive flows of his lips against your own. His hands on both of your cheeks caress your cheekbones gently, and warm air is spilled in the small space between you. He pulls away, panting.

“I don’t understand it,” he mumbles, before he’s pressing his lips back to yours hungrily. You let out a confused hum, and you have to gently push at his shoulder to back him off again. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“Why you were so alone,” he breathes, transfixed on your lips. “I want to be with you all the time.”

Before you can respond, Wonwoo grips the underside of your thighs, lifting you and himself from the chair and placing you on the desk. You gasp at the impact when the glass table meets your bottom, and Wonwoo is standing over you, suddenly so tall and so broad, and slimming at the waist. His narrow eyes become hooded behind the reflection of his glasses. His head is tilted down to meet yours.

“Can I take off your clothes, pretty?”

You don’t answer, only grip the edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head, so your bra-clad chest is exposed to him. He groans at the sight.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, nimble fingers dancing across your back to unclip the bra, sucking in a harsh breath the fabric becomes loose, sliding down your arms. “Such a pretty girl.”

“Stop,” you whisper, face warm and red. Your heart has never beat this way. It’s utterly unbearable and addicting at the same time, it’s without rhythm or class, it’s wild. And it’s because he’s looking at you and it’s not just lust. It’s adoration. There are deeper strings to the make-up of his eyes, there are lines connected to his heart, and he’s all flushed.

“What?” he asks. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

Wonwoo throws your bra on the floor next to him, hands finding the hem of your pants. “Can I take your pants off?”

You nod, still so shy and abashed, because Wonwoo’s eyes feel like a pink spotlight, and you are bathed in its warmth. He unbuttons your pants and you gently slide off the table to work them off your legs.

“Your panties are cute,” Wonwoo remarks (it should feel lewd, but he has a hand on your hip, that brushes the bone and he smiles at it). “Thank you,” you breathe, before you’re taking them off too.

Wonwoo doesn’t need to, but he still insists on gently lifting you back onto the table, and he kisses your nose when you’re sitting before him. He’s standing in between your legs, and then he’s looking down at where wetness drips onto the glass table.

His hand slides down your stomach, resting on the fat of it. He’s smiling, he’s so gorgeous, because he’s smiling the most gentle smile at how wet you are and how it leaks onto the table and his hand is so warm on your stomach, doing nothing, yet turning you on even more than you’d ever been before.

He sighs like he’s carrying the greatest burden on his broad back. “You’re so pretty,” he says, almost exasperated by it. He pinches some of the fat of your stomach between his fingers lovingly. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

Then the hand on your stomach slides down further. His large, veiny hand cups your pussy, the tips of his fingers just barely teasing your hole. You whimper against him, hands finding his biceps for support. Wonwoo studies you, craning his neck down to peer at your face, while his fingers begin swaddling your folds.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles, trying to catch your eye where you bury into his chest. One finger dips into your hole, penetrating slowly and settling knuckle-deep.

“Wonnie!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Mmm, clenching down on Wonnie’s finger so hard. My beautiful girl.”

He begins pushing his finger in and out of you, pace slow and torturous. His other hand slides up and down your body, squeezing your waist then your thigh, then coming right back up to fondle your chest. He pushes your back flat against the glass, so you’re all splayed out for him and you watch him from there, eyes hooded and legs spread to accommodate him. He breathes in shakily at the sight of you.

“Shit, Y/n. What were you doing hiding all this from me?” His finger picks up the pace, as another finger slips in alongside it. You’re moaning and panting, lips red and hair mussed, unable to focus on his words, when his fingers curl against that spongy spot inside you. Apparently Wonwoo expects an answer though, because he speaks again, voice lower and rougher. “Hm? You didn’t want to go have lunch? What, was it that guy?”

“W-What?”

“Just some guy,” Wonwoo echoes your past words, emphasizing with a harsh thrust of his fingers.

“N-No, I- Hng!” you cry out, when Wonwoo’s thumb presses onto your clit. He rubs it torturously. “I-I was embarrassed because I- I was thinking about you!”

“Oh?” this catches Wonwoo’s attention, as he diligently works his hand within you, staring down at your naked form, fully clothed and tall. “Tell me what you were thinking about, baby.”

“This!” you cry out, too high off the pleasure to really feel embarrassed about it.

“Pretty, sweet, dumb baby. You were thinking about you whimpering and writhing while I fuck you with my hand, hm?”

“N-No,” you mumble, cheeks aflame. “W-Was thinking about you l-liking me.”

At this Wonwoo hastily leans over you, pressing his lips onto yours again, and this time his tongue pries open your mouth, wet and warm in the cavern of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, hips canting into his hand. There’s something so desperate about him then, something so eager in the way he crooks his fingers, and how he kisses you, panting and covering your face in warm air. You feel a tight knot in your stomach.

“Cum on my fingers, please, pretty, sweet, baby, darling,” he mumbles into your mouth, rushing out the words before he’s sealing your lips again.

“God, I think I might fall in love with you.”

That makes you cum. You cum so fucking hard, clenching around his fingers like an air-tight seal, and your cum spills onto his fingers and his name spills into his mouth. The curse comes out with it, escaping like the air that spills out from an ancient, rediscovered chamber, and dissipating into the night. Your heart is beating and you’re breathing into his mouth, nose brushing his.

“Good girl,” he breathes, finally releasing your lips and letting his lips fall heavy and wet on your cheek.

He pulls out his fingers, unbearably wet and slick, and you think for a second that he’ll let you calm down and then maybe he’ll put his dick in you, but as soon as the fingers are out of you, they’re settling back on to your clit, rubbing heavy-handed circles.

You whine, arching your back off the table and wiggling your hips at the overstimulation. His other hand catches your hip and he shushes your cries softly.

“You can cum again, can’t you, baby? You can take it,” he says, so nonchalantly, while his slick fingers rub you. You cry out. Your legs are shaking. “Think you can cum again from just this?”

“Y-Yes,” you sigh and when you look down, his entire hand covers your pussy, as he pets your clit in circles. He smiles at your words, pinching your clit teasingly. It causes a squeak to escape you, hips struggling against his hold, where he pins you to the table.

“Good girl,” he praises, purring. “Letting me use your pretty pussy like this, letting me make you feel good.”

His body in front of you prevents your legs from closing, but, God, do they try, knees pinching his thin waist, and hair bunching up on the glass when your face scrunches up in pleasure.

“A-a-ah!” you cry out. Your hips involuntarily begin to inch away from him, but Wonwoo pulls you back with one strong hand, tutting.

“Don’t do that,” he mutters, pouting. “You need to be touched, remember?”

The whole thing is so heart-achingly intimate. The way he stands, still fully clothed and with a huge fucking tent in his pants, simply rubbing your pussy and looking at you with heart-eyes. Seriously, eyes swimming with adoration for you, teasing words slipping from his mouth unable to mask the genuine wonder he feels, at how you gasp and you arch and you clean and you jerk from the simplest of his movements. And your pussy is so warm and wet under his hand, and his body between your legs is so warm, and you cum again from just that; from how much love he looks at you with, and from the fingers crooking to pinch your clit again, wet and swollen underneath his glistening fingertips.

“W-Wonwoo!” you cry out, cumming again, and your body convulses around his, when it oozes out of your hole. Wonwoo’s fingers gently work you through it. His gaze on you is so intent, so careful and insistent, you can’t bear it, the way he sees you totally lost in the pleasure he brings you.

“There you go,” he whispers gently, fingers letting up and disappearing from your pulsating pussy.

“Wonwoo,” you mewl tiredly, pushing yourself onto your elbows to look up at him. He looks at you, so sweetly, so attentively, hands immediately finding your back to stabilize you. “Can I please have your cock now?”

“We don’t have to-”

“I want to!” you interrupt him, brows furrowed and lips in a pout. Wonwoo grins at that and though he may deny it, you don’t miss the red that twinges his cheeks.

“It’s just if you were too tired..-”

“I’m not,” you say decidedly, and Wonwoo nods.

“Okay. C’mere then.”

You’re confused when Wonwoo sits back down in the office chair, fingers working his slacks open. He doesn’t answer to your grimace though, only manages his pants unzipped and in one lift of his hips, peel both them and his boxers down.

His cock springs free, and your confused grimace is replaced with one of awe. It’s pale and veiny, the head is red and thin, white liquid oozes from it, like melted candle wax. And it’s huge.

You’re too slow to mask your amazement, it seems, because when your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, smiling smugly.

“Come ride me, baby.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You slide off the table eagerly, lumbering over to where he’s relaxed against the back of the chair. He looks up at you, all naked and pretty, with a grin.

The top buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, but he must’ve given up halfway. Either way, the milky plates of his chest are exposed, shining gloriously in the warm office light, and he discards his glasses, face fully exposed to you. He’s beautiful, and you think to tell him.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, planting each leg around his, so you’re straddling him. Like your ritual, Wonwoo grips your middle and pulls you closer, but this time it’s even closer than normal. Your stomach meets his dick, all heavy and hot on your skin, and your breath hitches at the sensation.

“You’re beautiful,” he teases, looking up at you. You smile.

“Can I put it in?” you ask.

“As if the answer was ever gonna be no?”

You snort out a laugh, raising yourself by your thighs and gripping the base of his dick to steer him inside. He hisses at the feeling of your hand grappling with his impressive size, and he hisses once more when the head of his cock buries into your heat.

His hands on your waist anchor himself while you slowly sink down, until he’s so fully sheathed in you, you think the tip of his cock must be brushing your heart, because it feels like it’s swinging in your chest.

“You’re so big,” you whimper, clutching his broad shoulders, and scrunching the fabric on top of them.

“Don’t say shit like that, I’m gonna cum, babe,” he grits out, fingers bruising your waist. You mewl, clutching his shirt. Then you begin to bounce.

Your thighs flex on either side of him as you heave up and down his cock, the both of you gasping into each other, and clutching each other for stability.

“Shit,” he pants out, genuinely out of breath. “Fuck, you’re the loveliest girl in the world.”

You cry out, pressure already welling in your stomach and burying yourself in his neck like you’ve always done, and it’s so intimate and he’s warm, and, fuck, he wants you. You can feel it in his grip, in his cock, in his words; he wants you more than anything. The thought makes you wanna cum.

Wonwoo is not quiet at all. He grunts and whines and his words are strangled and garbled, but frequent, showering you in affection and praise, while you bounce eagerly on his huge cock.

“You’re so pretty, baby.”

“Your tits are so perfect, shit.”

“Pretty girl.”

“Loveliest, prettiest, sweetest girl, bouncing on my cock, fuck.”

Praises spill from his lips in purrs, one after another, and when you cum you can’t help but return it tenfold.

“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonnie, fuck! Gonna- fucking cum, I think I’m- f-falling in love with you”

You and Wonwoo come alive. Cum spurts from his cock and into your pussy, and you both cry out, entangled and completing one another in the space where you meet.

And it’s true, falling in love with him is so easy. And falling in love with you is easy too, you realize, because the second he’s spilled his cum in you, he pulls you from his neck to kiss you so deeply, so thoroughly, you think your lips might never unpuff from his hasty, bitten kisses.

His cock, now soft, still inside you, his warm chest against yours, his nose nudging yours, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the kiss is totally perfect, and you’re warm, and the windows are all closed and fogged up and there’s no curse other than the most fatal and most perfectly tantalizing of them all: love.

You are not alone. You’re sitting in his lap and you think if you give it a day or two more, you might want to spend the rest of your life with him.

You catch your breaths.

“You’re really good at that,” you say finally. He grins again, perfectly undone, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. “Yeah?” he asks. You hum.

After some minutes of keeping him inside you, kissing lazily, running your hands over his pretty chest and arms, you pull back, beginning to flex your legs to pull him out of you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, hands wafting to still your movements. You furrow your brows, confused.

“Am getting your dick out of me?”

His hands sink down on your hips heavily, fully encompassing his dick again. You sigh at the feeling.

“Don’t do that, silly. You’re touch-starved, remember?”

He tilts his head teasingly.

“So why don’t you just sit snug on my cock, so you can get all the closeness you need?”

#jeon wonwoo x reader #smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #svt angst #wonwoo angst #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you

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poisonedprose · 9 months

Text

₊˚✧ happy trail — in which leon's happy trail drives you wild

leon kennedy x afab!reader

warnings: 0.9k words, smut, inspired by @ouchvns !! (this post), established relationship, pet names (baby, princess), curse words, oral (m), unprotected sex, p in v, soft dom!leon, slight degrading, choking (f), slight biting kink, (m having, f recieving), i dont caare how innactuate this is idc idc idc its rael to me🤤

masterlists

You stir awake at the sound of your boyfriend getting ready for work. The sun was barely starting to rise and you had fallen asleep late last night. He was really gonna hear it this time. Well, that was until you rolled over and trailed your eyes over his shirtless body.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry." He sounds sincere as he struggles to put his belt through the loops of his pants. You watch as Leon fumbles with the belt but your eyes can't help but drift up ever so slightly. You roll your eyes and push your face into the pillow. Does he always have to be this hot? "What's got your panties in a twist this morning?" He chuckles lowly at your dramatic reaction.

"Nothing." You mumble into the pillow. Leon laughs again and he's sure you're pouting into the pillow by now. "You can go back to sleep, you know." He's still oblivious to how much he’s turning you on. Moreover, how much his happy trail is turning you on. You roll onto your back again, deciding you needed air. He looks over at you, his belt finally around his hips, but still unbuckled.

His eyes roll over your body. Those shorts didn't look so short on you last night before bed. His eyes trail down to the comforter that was now half on the floor from your little temper tantrum. He walks over and picks it up, throwing it on the side that he should be sleeping in right now. You catch a glimpse of his unbuckled belt and it only makes your mind hazy with dirty thoughts.

"Do you have to be at work soon?" Your mouth says faster than your brain can think. "Not for another hour and a half. Why?" He responds calmly, totally unaware of what he was in for. "Do you have time for a quickie?" You bite your lip as you ask the question, and a smile appears on your face trying to sweeten the deal. His eyes go wide for a second as he processes what you're saying. "Right now?" He can't believe that you woke up this horny. (You didn't. It was his fault for being shirtless.)

You nod, hoping he'll say yes. As you wait for his answer your eyes can't help but drift from his face to his happy trail. "Come here." You smile happily and quickly crawl over to him. You waste no time unzipping his pants, pulling out his cock with record time. He lets out a laugh mixed with a moan when you eagerly take him in your mouth. He doesn't know what's gotten you so worked up but he doesn't complain.

He places his hand on your head, pushing you just a little deeper on his cock. "Mmm, fuck baby." He moans as you run your tongue on the underside of his dick. Drool collects at the corner of your mouth as you suck him off like he's your favorite lollipop. Spoiler alert; he is. Your hands run over his happy trail, and suddenly it makes so much more sense to him. "God, you're such a slut for me. I love it."

You pull off his cock with a pop, a smile on your face as you look up at him. He had so many things he wanted to say to you. Many of them were teases for how happily you took his cock down your throat or how enticed you were by his happy trail. But he was so caught up in lust, he couldn't bring himself to say any of them. "All fours, please." He commands and you obey, your shorts riding up more than they should.

He slides your shorts and underwear down in one fell swoop. "So pretty." He mumbles as he leaves soft kisses on your ass before lining himself up with your entrance. He slides his cock into your tight pussy, groaning lustfully and he wraps a hand loosely around your throat and pushes you against his chest as he pounds into your cunt.

Jumbled up words mixed with whimpers fall from your lips. His cock is fucking so deep inside of you, and his hand around your throat just fits like a necklace. "Mmm, so pretty, baby. Your pussy was made just f'r me." He moans into your ear, his voice deep, sexy, and full of need, just how you like it. "Takin' it s'good, yeah?" He chucked against your jaw, leaving rushes kisses.

Your jumbled words and whimpers soon turn to Leon's name. "Leon, Leon, oh fuck, Leon!" Your voice is so loud, he can't help but let your words ring through his ears. "Does it feel good, baby?" You can feel his cocky smirk on your jaw but you nod anyway.

You can tell he's close as his moans turn into whines. "Gonna fill y'up. Gonna fill your pretty pussy with my cum." He whines into your ear. "Is that okay, baby?" He asks sweetly compared to what he said moments ago. "Please. Please cum in me!" His fingers meet your clit, rubbing pleasurable circles with ease.

"How could I say no to my beautiful princess?" He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he cums. He continues to fuck into you and rub your clit until you cum. Practically screaming his name loud enough for his neighbors to hear as you do. He catches his breath before he pulls out, letting you fall back to your position on all fours.

He watches as his cum drips out of you, pride swelling his chest. "Now, I don't want to go to work. Look what you did." He groans as he fingers his cum back into you. "Then stay." You wiggle your ass tauntingly and he can't see it but he just knows your smirking. "You're such a bad girl. I love it." He chuckles as he pulls his belt off.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎┊ㅤㅤ💋 ㅤㅤ ﾟㅤㅤ ┊‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

#! 𖦹 ₊˚✧ re .#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil 4 smut #resident evil 4 x reader #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil smut

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months

Note

I came back from the movie theaters (Fnaf Movie) My lord I FREAKING LOVED IT THE WHOLE THING IDC AHHH Ahem-

I saw that requests are open, SO a Platonic Headcanon Request if you don't mind, Fnaf (Movie) Animatronics with Gender-Neutral (17-soon to be 18) Reader as the new security guard? or maybe tags with Mike and possibly Abby? (Reader ain't tall just-idk 5'2 maybe I am projecting-)

(I know this request doesn't make sense because of the tiredness due to staying up late because of excitement. Feel free to delete this ask if its too complicated)

bonus: If you want to, You can also Include Chica's Cupcake

Have a nice day/night, From 📞 ☕ (PhoneCoffee) Anon

Oh I can definitely work with this ^^

......

When you started working at Freddy's overnight, you hoped this would be your last summer job ever before you turned 18.

"Steve" said it was all pretty straightforward: watch the cameras and make sure nobody broke in.

Easy as pizza pie, right?

Well, when you realized one of the animatronics very subtly moved from their usual spot, you wanted to check them out for yourself.

Plus, sitting in the office for six hours every night would def get boring as hell.

So you head to the main stage area, finding the whole gang mysteriously gone--Foxy included.

Then you get surprised by them emerging from different places in the pizzeria, eyes glowing a sinister yellow as they surround you, wary of your intentions.

"O-Oh hey..um..Fazgang?" You try your best not to look so terrified.

Surely someone was controlling them, right? They couldn't possibly hurt you.

Yet they stop and collectively realize "wait, isn't this a teenager? And why are they working this job??"

But since you're not wrecking anything in the pizzeria (or screaming bloody murder unlike the last guard), they spare you and are just very chill overall.

You now start to believe all the rumors of them being haunted by little children.....although not even that scares you.

On the second night, you learn that they can understand simple drawings--and that's how you pretty much communicate with them and build up trust.

While Bonnie is regarded as the "most aggressive", he was a real sweetheart who let you shine his guitar and hugged you tightly to express his thanks.

Alas you haven't found a way to stop it from constantly short-circuiting when he strums it...but you vow to figure something out.

Chica was equally as sweet, although for some reason Carl the Cupcake made you feel nervous.

The way he can be on the plate one moment and then disappear the next makes you worried that he'll sneak up on you and bite your ankles off.

But as long as Chica's around, that won't ever happen.

Although Foxy looks quite dangerous, you try your best to patch up the hole in his chest using some spare parts from backstage while being oblivious to the deadly Freddy mask saw trap in the corner, something he's grateful for.

He even sang you a little sea shanty as thanks!

Freddy was the first to be suspicious of you, but after seeing a drawing you made of him, he grows to like your presence, too. Especially after how nice you've been to his bandmates.

So you definitely survived more than five nights at this place--longer than anyone so far.

When Mike gets hired and comes in for his first shift with you, he's surprised that a teen is training him.

He suspects this was some lousy summer job you were forced to get and thinks you're gonna act miserable the entire time you work together and not actually teach him shit.

But as it turns out, you love your job!

You show him the Fazgang during their "showtime" performance and assure him that while they may look creepy, they're not bad at all.

And while you're not getting paid extra to do simple maintenance on them, you still enjoy trying to keep them in tip-top shape (especially Foxy, who needs repairs the most).

Mike seriously thinks you shouldn't be doing that as it's not in the job description AND it could be dangerous.

Even if you have expertise in robotics, he still thinks it's not worth losing a limb or finger to those complex contraptions.

Like he almost did after getting near a springlock suit.

But you just teasingly remind him who the trainer is..and he goes quiet.

Foxy overhears this, and you see him snickering from behind the Pirate's Cove curtain, amused by you basically schooling this 25-27 year old man.

Unfortunately he startled poor Mike, who looks over quickly.....only to find the fox standing in his usual position, acting completely normal.

"Was he just laughing at us...?"

"Nope." You play dumb, shrugging. "Must be his voice box malfunctioning....c'mon. Let's see if we can fix that."

Least to say, you're not gonna let him sleep on the job anytime soon.

#clanask #phone coffee anon #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf movie spoilers #platonic #teen reader #mike schmidt #freddy fazbear #bonnie the bunny #chica the chicken #foxy the pirate #headcanons

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lovedrruunk · 28 days

Note

Hi! I saw that you were taking requests! Is it alright if I can request venture with reader that loves placing kisses all over their face? Hopefully this is alright with you if not feel free to ignore this!

'Kisses galore ⊹.(⸝⸝ ˆ ³(⁎˃ ᴗ ˂⁎)˚.

Venture (Overwatch x GN reader)

[Established relationship!]

Authors note!!! (;° ロ°); third....venture.... post......I have like 5 posts in total... well anyways!!! idc cuz i luv them! and i love YOUUUU AHH tysm for requesting this it was super fun to write i hope u like it !!!! also sorry its pretty short! I kinda wrote it on a whim wanting to post it before I went out so its not proof read either (Im actually so late rn its not even funny okay srsly gtg bye!)

Y’know that one tiktok trend that was popular last year where someone would be reapplying lipstick and then the camera would turn and its their s/o covered in kisses yea yea that’s just you guys all the time lol

In the beginning of your relationship they’d get all flustered and have this goofy grin on their face whenever you’d smother their face in kisses. Oh? And how do they react now? The exact same! Literally nothing has changed since the first time you’ve kissed them, they still giggle and look away. No matter how long its been they just can’t seem to get used to your affection

They could be hit by a bus going 200mph, in critical condition and one kiss on the nose from you would get them up and doing a little jig going yippee!

They might pretend to be annoyed or irritated but really that's just because they love playful banter and it’s pretty obvious how they feel about your kisses by the way they laugh and refuse to let you pull away

Their favorite moments with you are when you're laying over them somewhere enjoying each others company with your hands on their cheeks and your lips all over their face

They're pretty ticklish overall so kiss sessions usually turn into laughing fits

Although 99% of the kisses you share are all in good fun there are those times when they're sad or angry and you're kisses can't help but feel a bit more intimate and loving (please kiss their tears away!!!)

They appreciate you so much like they literally can't get enough of you. They cherish every kiss like it's the first and definitely act like it too. If you tell them they're blushing they'll deny it with their whole chest meanwhile looking like 🟥

“Augh! You’re suffocating me!” You and Sloane had been neglecting all your duties for the day in order to lay on the couch and bathe in the warm sunlight seeping through the windows. You both had been watching some random brainrot on their phone when you got bored and decided to pounce on them planting loving kisses all over their face. "Oh shut up" you playfully roll your eyes as you kiss them on the lips this time.

"One of these days I'm gonna die and you'll regret not listening to me" "Boo hoo" you giggled at their melodramatics deciding to pull away from them, but before you could you felt their hands tighten around you holding you in place.

"I mean... Dying in your arms doesn't sound so bad..."

"Yea yea whatever" You mumble happily as you lean down again pressing a kiss to their cheek.

#venture x reader #this was cute #im actually happy w it!!!#venture overwatch #overwatch x reader

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dollfaceksj · 9 months

Note

YES CONTINUE A POSION PARADISE

YERRRRR lets go

tell me ur thoughts! <3

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #4

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

it’s jimin’s party today

[a/n: i been obsessed w this outfit so i imagine reader wearing sth like this cause its so cute idc if u dont like it]

you go there by foot bc it’s not that far, like a 10 min walk

your feet in these heels are killing you but it doesn’t matter when you look that good

once you arrive, jimin pulls you in for a hug, thanking you for coming

ur not THATTT close w jimin, ur closer w joon and tae

but ur still on friendly terms w jimin

at least way friendlier than jk

its not awkward between u and jimin and u often talk abt ur love for cats and pop culture

unlike u and jk. u can count the amount of convos u’ve had with that loser on one hand and half of those were this month

jimin leads you to taehyung and unfortunately

jungkook is sitting

right beside tae

jk’s wearing a leather jacket and black jeans. his hair is wavy and there are silver rings decorating his pretty fingers

you haven’t seen them since that evening at tae’s and it’s been 3 days since

tae texted u a couple times but ur replies were pretty short to him

and u feel kinda bad

cause its not taes fault??

but ur stubborn. and stupid

tae hands jungkook his solo cup and jumps up from the couch, lunging straight at you

he hugs you tightly, swaying with you from left to right

“i’m glad you made it! all these people are boring,” taehyung says into your ear, squeezing your frame

you chuckle and pull away, hitting his shoulder

he holds you back by your shoulders. “you look good. you came to break hearts.” he nudges your hip with his

he’s soooo annoying

but the compliment is rising to your head

your relationship w tae is like a brother or cousin

he’ll only tell you you look good if you actually look good

and he’ll tell you if you look like shit

“come, sit with us,” he says as he makes some extra space on the couch. he takes the seat next to jungkook

thats when you remember that jungkook is here.

you pretend you don’t notice him though

and he seems to be doing the same thing

asshole.

you don’t really feel like drinking tonight so you decline tae’s offer of getting you something to drink

you spend the next twenty minutes listening to tipsy taehyung rambling about his call of duty wins

yawn

you get up and tae instantly tugs on your wrist

“where u going?”

you sigh. “bathroom. i’ll be right back.”

he nods and lets go of your wrist, turning to jungkook to continue his uninteresting conversation

you push your way through the sea of sweaty and smelly bodies

there’s a pair making out in front of the bathroom door so you push past them as well and enter the bathroom

you lock the door and take care of your business

you wash your hands and glance at yourself in the mirror, fixing your makeup a bit before turning on your heels and unlocking the door

just as you unlock the door, the door swings open

uhh

you did not do that

like u did not open the door it just swung open on its own.

in that split second you think it’s someone who desperately needs to use the bathroom

but your heart drops straight into your ass when you make eyecontact

with

jeon

jung

fucking

kook

THE FUCKKK

you can’t even understand what’s happening

you can barely react

when jungkook

suddenly

and gently

pushes you back into the bathroom by your waist

his hands are respectfully placed but it still sends a shiver up your spine and down all your limbs

haha

wow

😂😂😂😂

jungkooks hands on your waist for a few seconds

who wouldve thought

he walks in and shuts the door behind him

and you know you’re not going crazy but was that… the click

the

door

locking????

did he just? lock the door??

you look up at him, lips parted but not a single word on your tongue for him

he leans against the closed door and shoves his hands into his pockets

you frown at him, confused on why he’s trapping you in the bathroom

“what the hell, dude?” your annoyance is clear in the tone of your voice

cause what the HELL jungkook???

“i couldn’t find any other proper moment to come talk to you,” he says but you can’t bring yourself to believe him when he’s got a shit-eating grin on his lips

you roll your tongue against the inside of your cheek and cross your arms over your chest. “talk?”

what could he possibly want to talk about with you???

“yeah. i said i didn’t like you but i hope you know it was a joke. i’m sorry it didn’t come across that way.”

you drag your eyes slowly down his figure, hoping you look like you’re judging the fuck out of him

but he doesn’t react

the

slightest

“is that all?” you ask as you make eye contact with him again.

he stares at you for a moment longer before pushing himself off the door, closing the distance between you two

you automatically take a step back but your bum is already pressed against the sink, leaving you with nowhere to go

fuck

FUCK

why is he getting closer still

he stops right in front of you, tips of his shoes touching yours

body menacingly looming over yours, making you tilt your chin to look up at him

he stares you down, tongue playing with the double lip rings in the corner of his bottom lip

fuck he’s hot

like fuck. he’s so hot

he says, “tae was right, you know.”

you scrunch your brows together and struggle to find your voice. you compose yourself quickly though

“about?”

he answers right away. “you look real fucking good.”

hahahahahah

hahahahahahahahahahahaha

😂😂😂😂😂😂

right right

😂😂😂😂

so funny.

his voice is so sultry and the way he’s staring you down like he’s enjoying the view. like he wants to devour you whole

it almost makes your knees buckle

GIRL GET IT TOGETHER

he’s literally your junior be serious

you try to stand your ground

no you HAVE to

the fuck you look like being weak in front of this little shit

“thanks. anything else?”

wowww bitchy much?

he stares at you for a moment longer before shaking his head. “nope.”

“good. get out of my way then.” you wave your fingers back and forth to tell him to get lost

he chuckles and steps aside, watching as you push past him and leave him to stare at your retreating ass

you make your way back to where tae was but he’s gone

of course he is

you look around the room, annoyed with all the people dancing and shoving up against you

all of a sudden, a hand on your shoulder makes you slightly jump

you turn and see tae

PHEWWW thought u were gonna get harassed or something

“y/n, you haven’t drank anything yet, right?” he slurs his words and you roll your eyes

this can only mean he wants you to do something

“jungkook wants to go home but he has a speaker jimin really wants. do you mind walking home with him and bringing the speaker back with you?”

what

literally what😭

“please?” he says as soon as he sees the doubt on your face

you sigh, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. “i can’t believe you’re asking me to do that.”

he frowns. “what? i’ve asked you to come to my place at night too.”

“i’m not talking about walking at night, i’m talking about making me go with jungkook.”

“he hasn’t apologized yet?”

huh

how’d he know jk was going to apologize?

“how do you know he wanted to apologize?”

“because it’s jungkook.” he rubs his nose and looks around before looking back at you. “have you ever seen him at a party before? he came to this party just to apologize to you cause he knew you’d come and he wouldn’t have another opportunity. that’s why he’s already leaving despite only having been here for like half an hour.”

you don’t know if that’s just tae being drunk or if he’s actually telling you the truth

bc why

why is that

sweet?

were you being dramatic? 😭😭

for being mean to him??

over something so silly

u kinda were lowkey babes.

you sigh softly.

“alright.”

to be continued

<- previous ; next ->

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

— follow me on twitter for free exclusive content like sneak peeks, scrapped content, brain storming and to better interact with me ♧♡

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taglist link

@joonwater @purp13st4r @bbtsficrecs @whoa-jo @hoseokieswrld @111vicky @jj.uchiha @ellesalazar @etaerealboyv @kissyfacekoo @casual-death @xenkimmie

#how are feeling babies #😁😁😁#let me know ur thoughts plsss <3 #clover over #clover’s drabble series: toapp | jjk #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x oc #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook drabble #jungkook smut

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xandy-toady · 1 year

Text

Mansk x Genderneutral!Reader || Scenting kink + Possesive NSFW HCS

Personal hc that his sense of smell is MUCH better then even the normal Na’vi, so I’m swinging off of that plus some extra things, Mansk is territorial over you idc idc

Pretty short but idk, let me know your thoughts!!

Warning ; Lots of scent talk, marking, cum play, displays of possessiveness, v obsessed, jealousy, in general it’s just him loving your different scents with his heightened smell

NSFW MINORS DNI

—————

>Ever since coming within the vicinity of you, your scent had him hooked.

>Genuinely was addicted day one

>He always found you off smell alone. And he still does, likes how he feels like a predator with his prey

>He’s had a few intense moments where he almost fucked you in a hallway when he smelt pure arousal and sweat coming from you after emerging from your office, face flushed

>Once you and Mansk did get together, his addiction to the intoxicating smell doubled

>Always pulling you close, taking your entire being in as he takes a deep breath, mind fogging as your scent washes over him in waves.

>Feeling how your skin would start to heat up under him from his touch

>Hating when you take showers, he likes your natural scent, never hesitating to breath you in no matter how gross you complain you are

>He does NOT care that it’s a bit nasty

>Even after going to the gym with him, he will still pin you to the change room bench, head buried in the crook of your neck, leaving an array of marks on you while grinding desperately—

>Large, rough calloused hands digging into your flesh, making sure to sink his teeth into your neck, nose pressed firmly to you

>You can feel him growing hard, grinding his dick against you like a bitch in heat

>You swear you hear him whimpering every so often as he manhandles and keeps you pinned under him, cock rutting into you desperately, and to think it was just from his scent kink

>Mansk actually loves your after workout smell the most out of all of your different scents that roll off of you, it’s the most intense and you heavily smell of pure you

>Hating how you reek of Lyle after you had helped him with something

>It always makes his ears swivel downwards, visibly tensing up in smelling his mates scent mixed with another males

>Not something he particularly enjoys, it wakes everything in him not pin you to the floor and lay claim, almost like a predator with its prey

>A little bit territorial over what’s his 👀

>Silently staring at you unamused every time, grabbing you to drag you to somewhere with even the slightest bit of privacy

>Unable to stop the low, angry growl that escapes him at how Lyle’s scent clung to you

-He couldn’t have this, now could he?

>It was so sudden to you, but found yourself curious as he brought you elsewhere to privacy

>Bringing you to your knees to suck him off, then fucking you all so he can smear his cum on you, in you, pressing your bodies close ensuring you smelt like him him him.

>When you ask what that was about, he just shrugs and looks away shyly

>Doesn’t want to admit that he could smell Lyle on you, no way was he admitting he was jealous in any way lmfao

>Loves seeing others’ noses crinkle when you walk in, an intense waft of sex and Mansk after one of your longer nights trailing behind as you walk past the recom unit

>Lyle making a comment on how you smell like a cum dumpster earning a swift punch lmfao

>Hope you enjoyed! Requests are OPEN!

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hedwig221b · 9 months

Note

HIIII can you list some of your favourite angst heart-wrenching sobbing sliding down the walls fics ? idc if it’s short or long i need some angst rnn please and thank uuu <3

Hi, sweetie! This was difficult for me, bc I'm a sucker for angst, basically all I read is angst and I have like 200 fics saved. Here's a looong list of the ones which I know for sure I can always come back to for some good old angst.

STEREK ANGST FIC RECS from HEDWIG221B

By Any Other Name by entanglednow

(Explicit, 33k, Amnesia, Violence)

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

all roads they lead me here by spaceprincessem

(Teen, 39k, Mates, Emissary Stiles)

“Then why wouldn’t you be Derek’s emissary?” Stiles asked. He just wished Deaton would get to the fucking point. He was tired and he hated playing twenty questions to figure out what the older man was getting at.

“Derek’s emissary needs to be someone who he trusts completely,” Deaton explained, “and it’s time I passed on my wisdom and expertise to that person.”

The beat of silence between them stretched for too long before Stiles realized exactly who Deaton was talking about.

“Me?” He asked incredulously.

A Princely Knight by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(Mature, 25k, Medieval, Royalty, Pining)

He would stand by Stiles’ side, a constant shadow of protection until his death. A life for a life, one worth much more than an orphan turned thief turned royal guard could comprehend.

In truth, Derek saw the one person he would gladly give his life for, because Stiles made this world better.

~*~

Or, Stiles is a prince and Derek is his knight.

won't you torture someone else's sleep by redeyedwrath

(Gen, 3,6k, Pining)

I love you, Derek thinks, but he doesn’t say it, just watches Stiles throw his head back in laughter that isn’t for him and never will be. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Maybe if he thinks it hard enough, Stiles will hear him.

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

(Explicit, 33k, ABO, Mating Run, Bad Peter)

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles.

But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

To Whom The Wolf King Bows by MadcapRomantic

(Explicit, 108k, 14/?, Courting, Fantasy, Royalty)

Stiles Stilinski meets The Wolf King, the very boogeyman he'd spent his younger years terrified of; yet the man is little, if anything, like the tales he's heard. But, Stiles has spent the last ten years of his life as a slave, under the harsh whip of the cruel King Gerard Argent, and trusting Derek - trusting anyone - is beyond difficult.

xcaellachx

Just check out this author, there's some major angst in a lot of their works, a lot of ABO

Hung The Moon by nrnyx

(Explicit, 85k, ABO, Pack Dynamics, Heavy Angst)

Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.

A gift worth giving by Nival_Vixen

(Mature, 2k, Historical Fantasy, Royalty)

A person’s virginity is not only the physical act itself, but also an object that can be gifted to someone else. Stiles has given his virginity to Derek, one of the soldiers in the King’s Guard. Despite his parting promise to return the next month, Derek still hasn’t returned two months later, and Stiles doubts that he ever loved him at all.

The Bargain by dr_girlfriend

(Teen, 9,7k, Arranged Marriage, Regency AU)

Time drags on, and it becomes apparent that this is not a part of the tradition. The wolves start to shift on their feet and murmur, but no one attempts to speak to Stiles. He stands, feeling the back of his neck growing red from the sun and his face growing red from embarrassment.

What will happen if Derek Hale cannot be coerced to the altar? Will the bargain be revoked?

Perception by DiscontentedWinter

(Mature, 5,4k, Horror, Nogitsune, Murder)

Peter Hale's client is a murderous sociopath. The best thing Peter can do is get him committed to Eichen House, where he'll never see daylight again.

He thinks.

The Omega Spark by misteeirene

(Explicit, 62k, ABO, Alive Hales, Pack Dynamics)

John lived a sad and lonely life after the death of his wife, until one day when he noticed someone had breaking into his home while he was at work.

Second Chances by rootbeer

(Gen, 2,6k, Soulmates)

"A lot of times the ‘markings’ were common, simple things you said to strangers all the time. 'Excuse me'; 'thank you'; 'hello'. Some got extremely romantic things like 'it’s you isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for you' or 'Wow you’re really pretty'. And they were always the first words their soulmate would ever say to them.

Of course, having 'You are the fucking worst kind of person in the world' tattooed down your side, didn’t bode well. How fucked up was Stiles Stilinski that even his fucking Soulmate hated him? High School had been a special kind of hell when all the kids learned what his tattoo said—despite his best efforts to keep it a secret."

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

(Teen, 7,6k, ABO, Full-shift werewolves, Pack Dynamics)

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.

“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.

“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.

“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

I Shouldn't Love you Anymore by wulfarchival (wyrmwolf)

(Mature, 2,2k, Established sterek, Feral Derek)

After Stiles divorces Derek under mysterious reasons, Derek moves out into the middle of nowhere loosing himself to the wolf after the ache in his chest becomes too much. But after weeks of being lost to an animal someone he thought he'd never see again returns in his life.

This time to stay forever.

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress

(Explicit, 112k, ABO, Secret Relationship)

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Life After This by Nimpalous

(Mature, 5,1k, Violence, MCD, Soul Bond, I consider this having a HE)

Feeling his weight shift backwards over the ledge when another bullet hit, Stiles closed his eyes and whispered the name of his beloved as he fell.

“Derek…”

Derek woke up with an agonising scream, his body curling in on itself in pain. He wasn’t aware of having wolfed out, he didn’t know he was clawing himself as he clutched at his head, willing the agony to go away… but to no avail.

Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill

(Mature, 70k, Time Travel, Mates, ptsd!Stiles)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them."

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

It seems wasted now by DaaroMoltor

(Teen, 48k, Slow Burn, Miscommunication, Stiles is pushed out of the pack)

It's been months. Months of lonely days and lonelier nights.

And Stiles can't understand what he did wrong.

Under Glass by calrissian18

(Mature, 6,6k, Pining, Cursed Stiles)

The pack goes looking for a cursed artifact. Stiles would really like to go back to the time before he found it, thanks.

Time To Say Goodbye by matildajones

(Teen, 34k, Time Travel, Mates, HE)

Derek finds an older version of himself at his front door, along with Stiles, a boy from the future.

Emissary by dragon_temeraire

(Teen, 3,7k, Alive Hales, Bonding)

To keep the peace, Stiles agrees to be emissary to the Hale pack.

One Thread by RurouniHime

(Mature, 11k, Established sterek, Grief, HE)

In the middle of the night, his dad comes into the room and crawls onto the bed behind him, easing Stiles into the vee of his legs. He settles back against the headboard with a groan and doesn’t say anything for a long time. Stiles wraps his arms around one of his dad’s legs, presses his cheek to warm flannel, and tries to be still.

“Oh, kid,” his dad exhales. His hand comes down on the side of Stiles’ neck and his fingers press gently. “I never wanted you to know this pain.”

(Or, Derek dies. Stiles reacts Badly.)

#sterek #sterek fic #stiles x derek #sterek fic rec #sterek fanfic #eternal sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #hedwig221b replies #ao3 sterek #sterek fics #sterek fandom #sterek angst

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dailyjasontodd · 1 year

Note

to the fav jason comic of all time question just list all of them!

anything written by:

winick, idc i know there's some issues in his stories but they're pretty solid overall, utrh, lost days, green arrow, and the story he wrote for the robin anniversary

barr, of detective comics robin jason fame. Particularly loved his two face arc (detective comics #480-481 iirc)

Then:

Batman #408-413 (1987) --> original post-crisis jason todd run before someone who hated robin took over, my baby and dear

Batman Annual #12 (1988) --> PEAK robin jason

New Talent Showcase (2017) --> a short story starring Jason and Duke. He's not the main character but he's written so well that i'll always add it to my fav jason comics list

Red hood: Outlaw #51-52 (2021) --> listen delivering a good arc in TWO issues and after lobdell wrote everything else? an entire talent on its own. i love this mini arc, how jason is written, how it fleshed out his background, the new dynamics it added. just. exquisite.

Event Leviathan #2-3 (2019) --> i loved him here idgaf, that fight? i just moaned out loud, everyone was calling it bullshit but it was so in character, we will never get his fighting abilities respected again but it was worth it

Batman: Gotham Nights #11 (2020) --> i had been begging for a steve orlando jason comic for YEARS when this dropped and it didn't let me down. loved the characterization and how it fleshed out jasons background

Batman/Superman Annual #1 (2014) --> if you weren't there for the mess of n52 storylines this comic might be confusing but i love it sooo much, it showcases his competency and i enjoyed his dynamic with the different characters

Countdown Presents: The Search for Ray Palmer (2008) --> i just. love. this. mini series. i like his personality there and the different scenarios are fun, particularly loved the gotham by gaslight one!

Injustice 2 #3 (2017) --> yes injustice is garbage etc but this issue was JAYSTORY, you had to be there when this was released weekly and we were all waiting for the confirmation of him being batman. when he bet bruce like it was nothing? MMMMH YEAH

Convergence: Batman and Robin (2015) --> what if someone took morrisons canon and made it enjoyable for jason stans?

Batman and Robin #20 (2013) --> this might be a controversial pick but i liked jason here, like ack he really was ready to help bruce..

Tiny Titans (2010-2012) --> tiny titans.

Theres some recent comics i've enjoyed but i'll let them age and see if i still like them in a year to add them to the hall of fame

brought to you by admin 🐅

#feel like im forgetting some.. will add them later if thats the case #jason todd #asks #anonymous #faq #?

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fandxmslxt69 · 6 months

Text

Daisy (modern, small town AU)

mechanic!Frank castle x f!sunshine!reader

Warnings: Frank's an asshole lmao. UM me making up shit as I go about cars (i dont know enough abt them okay). Um, Frank works at an automobile shop/garage (he owns it more like but whatever). WRITTEN IN LIKE 3 HOURS AND AN IDEA THAT WAS BIRTHED THIS MORNING. Some swearing, lazy descriptions, probably HORRIBLE structure but idc idc idc.

Synopsis: You just moved to a small town, and just your luck, your car breaks down after a few errand runs. You have no choice but to go to the town's official Mr. Grumpy (Frank) to ask for help.

Word count: 1.8k (WHOOPS)

A/N: BAHAHAH SO THIS WAS BORN LIKE THIS MORNING/LAST NIGHT and i could NOT get the idea out of my head so I had to do SOMETHING about it. Yeah, there'll probably be more to this but FIRST, i have to go study after putting it off to finish this. SORRY IT MIGHT BE SOOO FUCKING OOC AND CRINGE BUT I WAS TOO LAZY TO WRITE IT PROPERLY! this is kind of just a set up/build up bit it gets BETTER promise promise anyway was this just me reading like 10 small town romances and going "all of them, but with Frank?" yeah basically, you're welcome.

Tags: YEAH um @soft-girl-musings its kinda your fault for encouraging me (im kidding ily) and um @runa-falls cuuuz yknow you <3 and Frank <3

Imagine a modern AU in a small little town where Frank owns the only garage there. It’s just a small happy town with a little community that grew up with each other- everyone knows Frank as Mr Grumpy- he’s always got that frown and those eyebrows knitted together in annoyance.

Imagine you’re new in town and you feel just a bit out of place in this tightly knitted community. You try to make some friends, but it’s hard fitting into already tight social circles.

Imagine your car breaking down on your way home from a grocery run. The front of smoking and its making weird jumbling and rumbling noises. You leave the car quickly, not wanting to be inside of it in case something goes wrong. You’re nowhere near your house, and the cute sandals you’re wearing are in no shape to walk the rest of the way. You really don’t want to barge into a random shop and ask for help. But you notice, a little far from the rest of the shops in town, a little store with an ugly neon sign that said GARAGE in big, flickering red letters. You sigh heavily, making sure to grab your keys from the car, along with your purse and phone, lock it, and start walking towards the shop.

Imagine walking into the little automobile shop to find it pretty much deserted. The walls were lined with different tires, tools and various car parts lined the little room with a small area left unlittered for the cash register. And yet, there was no one to man the station. You walk around, feeling hopeless, until you hear voices coming from behind the door at the back of the room.

Imagine walking through the door hesitantly into a big garage, and you’re greeted with the sight of a gorgeous shirtless man in loose jeans stained in grease stains. He’s bent over a car and wiping the windshield while a radio beside him blasts some country tunes. You stood in the doorway, mouth hanging slightly open at the sight. Who could blame you? His hair looked so soft, and from what you could see, his face was probably just godly. He looked heavenly,and he clearly didn’t hear you come in from how loud the music was. You clear your throat lightly, clutching the strap of your purse tightly. “Um, excuse me-” you say as quietly as you can, not entirely sure you want to draw his attention. Yet somehow he still hears you. His eyes snap up to meet yours and the look of peace on his face immediately transforms into a look of permanent annoyance.

Shit. He does have a pretty face. A sculpted jawline and a little stubble lined his jaw. Pretty eyes too.

Imagine the way his eyes would roam over you. Your hair held back in a little ponytail, your short blue sundress with daisies that barely just reaches your thighs. The way his pretty lips would set in a hard line and his jaw clenches, and while his eyes take in your pretty look, the way that dress rides up your thigh whenever you take a step, you can see his jaw tick and the frown lines forming.

“Yes?” He said slowly, one eyebrow raised.

“Um,” You shuffled a bit, carefully stepping into the garage, but making sure to keep a distance from him and the car. “Um, my uh, my car broke down, and I kind of need help,”

He wipes his hands on the towel tucked into the pocket of his jeans, walking around the car to stand in front of you. Well, more like tower over you. He was, to put it simply, enormous. At least 6 foot something with broad shoulders and a deliciously sculptured and defined chest. His muscles weren’t the pretty boy skinny things you’d see at the gym- his biceps looked big enough to crush a man’s skull, and his chest looked comfy enough to use as a pillow.

He clears his throat, and you realise you missed a question. You look up (practically STRAINING your neck) to meet his eyes. He definitely looks frustrated. Maybe he's annoyed that he has to repeat himself.

Imagine how mean he’d be about it- he doesn’t mean to be rude, or to come off as an asshole. He definitely didn’t mean to act as if your lack of knowledge in this situation bothered him. Normally he didn’t care, but the way you looked up at him with big worried eyes and the anxious fiddling of your hands just…ticked him off. He certainly doesn’t mean how condescending his tone is, but he just can’t help it. Pretty girls fucked him in the head.

“What’s wrong with your car, doll?”

You fiddled with a strand of your hair. “Um, I don’t actually know,” He lets out an annoyed grunt, running a hand down his face. “Where’d it stop?” “Um, just a little back,” You pointed behind you. “Not too far. I don’t know, it started smoking and making weird noises. Assumed it was bad, so I came here,” He shakes his head, throwing the towel in his hand to the side and grabbing a shirt from one of the chairs. “Yeah sweetheart, that is very bad,”

“Okay well, I figured,” You hesitated. “Can you uh, can you fix it?” “Depends,” He grunted, pulling the shirt over his head. He’d walk past you out front to grab his truck keys from the cash desk, making a couple more caveman noises to indicate that you should follow him.

Imagine getting to his truck and you stand there awkwardly because there’s no fucking way you could get in there. It’s too high up, and you sure as hell can’t just jump into it. You throw your purse in, brace your hands on the door, and try to lift your leg high enough to reach the step.

Imagine Frank getting so fucking pissed when your dress rides up to barely even cover the curve of your ass and he just places his (very big, very warm) hands on your waist and hauls you up, firmly sitting you on the chair and slamming the door shut.

Imagine how the short drive to where your car stopped is just filled with really awkward silence as you clutch your purse to your chest. Frank's got the radio on, an arm hanging out the window, but his other hand on the steering wheel is holding it so tightly his knuckles are turning white. And he looks almost calm, if not for the way he’s clenching his jaw so hard you think he might shatter his teeth.

You pull up to your car, and Frank whistles quietly as he gets out of his truck and walks over to examine it. “What d'ya do to this thing?”

You practically hopped out of the truck, frowning. “Nothin’! I didn’t even do anything. I was just driving back home and it broke down,”

“Well ya must’ve done somethin’ if she broke down this bad,” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “Can you open the front?”

“What if it like- explodes on you? What then?” You ask horrified. That’s a horrible impression to leave on someone.

“Not gonna explode, now open the damn front,”

You nod hesitantly, unlocking the car to open up the front. He tries to blow away the smoke with his hand, but it’s really no use. “Yeah, might need to take it back to the garage,”

“But-” You felt your bottom lip wobbling. How could everything go to shit so fast. “I need to get home!”

Despite how grumpy Frank wanted to stay, he can’t help soften when it’s clear how panicked you felt. He knew you were the newest person in town, and he also knew he’d have everyone on his ass if he didn’t try and help a little more.

But he’s still gonna be an ass about it. “I’ll drive you back to your house and send someone for your car, no need to cry ‘bout it, doll,”

You nod hesitantly, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay. Okay, thank you,” And then you smiled this shy, grateful smile at him and he felt like the air was knocked right out of his lungs. You were gorgeous, he knew that, but looking at you now he felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. You looked….cute. And he wanted to keep that smile on your face. Shit. Imagine Frank realising just how fucked he is, having to help such a cute and pretty girl out, he’d just shut himself off even more. His frown deepens and he only communicates in grumbles and grunts as he drives you back home and calls someone to come pick up your car. He only holds out his hand to ask for your keys- not even uttering a word, just holds out those really sexy hands. He just sits in his truck with his arm out the window as you hop out of the seat and make your way up your porch. He feels so screwed. Even your house looked cute.

“Thank you,” You call out to him.

He raises a hand in return and then he pulls out from in front of the house and drives back to his shop.

You falter a bit, feeling a tad stung at how shut off he is. Maybe not everyone is as open as you were, but he could have at least smiled. You sigh, walking into your house and dropping your purse at the door. You discard your shoes, and head to the kitchen to grab a couple snacks and collapse on the couch, feeling overall exhausted and drained from the whole day. Maybe you won’t have to see Grumpy for another few days- just so you could cool down.

The landline rings a few minutes after, and you frown. Who the hell would have the landline’s number? You get up and answer the phone. “Hello?” “Hey daisy, it’s Frank. You left your groceries in the car,” Frank’s voice fills your ear (god he sounds so…so hot)

Your eyes widen and you gasp in shock. “Fuck, I did!”

He hums in response. “Yeah. Bet you need those, don’tcha?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, I kind of do,”

There’s commotion from Frank’s side, it sounds a lot like someone yelling at him. He sighs heavily. “Alright daisy, I’ll figure somethin’ out f’r you,” And then he hangs up.

Daisy? Figure it out? And why was it so oddly comforting to know he could handle this without you needing to worry?

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #the punisher #jon bernthal

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0sincerelyella · 9 months

Text

Welcome pretty girl- J.B instagram AU

Summary: introducing mrs bailey to the world.

warnings: i don’t ever capitilize anything, bailey was just born. ollie is 4 mason is 6 :) i got all my images off pinterest, this is rlly short and also not good but idc it says what needs to be said

Y/nsinsta

liked by joeyb_9 and 925,226 others

@ynsinsta SHE arrived just in time for the super bowl!!!💝🌸🎀🐅

Bailey Eleanor Burrow

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—

user6: OMG ITS A GIRL!! new baby burrow🥺

user7: She’s gonna be just like her momma!

user8: look at the boys with her🥺

jan 29th 2024

Joeyb_9

liked by y/nsinsta and 965,356 others

Joeyb_9 she’s either gonna be baller at sports or be a super good lawyer thanks to her moms mouth

view all 6,345 comments

user6: STOP shes precious

user12: my favorite nfl family

mommaburrow: 3 down now all that’s left is to become momma burrow 2!!!

->user8: MARRIAGE CONFIRMED???

via Y/ns instagram stories

via joes instagram stories

joe via twitter

Joeyb_9

i wish no one to be alarmed at my absence from practice these next two or three days. given we still have 2 weeks till the big game i have taken some time off to spend with my family, due to the birth of my daughter. i will get right back to it in the next few days, even then i will be reviewing film. so media, don’t harass me i’m just spending much needed family time 🫶

——-> user 4

Y/n tweeted this didn’t she

———> y/ns twitter

a magician never tells her secrets

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #nfl imagine #cincinnati bengals joe burrow #joey burrow #football #american football players

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gravehags · 22 days

Note

cirrus aether and cumulus cuddling for the polyghouls prompt :) idc that its canon bc of that one photo i still need more of it

“Shit, I left my tea in the kitchen - Cir, love, would you mind while you’re up…?”

“Got it. Don’t worry about pausing the movie.”

Cumulus nods with a smile before snuggling into Aether’s warm body, hand drifting over his pectoral. His gaze darts briefly from the screen and down to the short and soft ghoulette. She’s purring while she plays with his chest hair, only halfway watching the TV, and looks up at him to smile.

“You’re missing the movie, gorgeous,” he murmurs, reaching a hand behind her head to scratch at her scalp. She’s nuzzling into his touch when the shadow of Cirrus appears, leaning against the doorway and watching them fondly.

“Saps,” Cirrus smirks before padding over to Cumulus to deliver her beverage, which she accepts with a quiet thanks, “What did I miss?”

“The redhead is cheating on her husband,” Cumulus chirps, sipping on her lukewarm chamomile.

“Ah, so you were paying attention,” Aether grins, “my apologies for doubting you ‘Lus.”

Cirrus tsks disappointedly as she herself curls into Aether’s opposite side.

“Now she’s going to make you pay,” Cirrus grins, placing a kiss to Aether’s jaw. “Aren’t you pretty girl?”

Cumulus sets her tea down on the bedside table and smiles beatifically. When she speaks, her voice is low and stirs something in both Aether’s and Cirrus’ bellies.

“Perhaps…after the movie. You two can be good little ghouls and wait, can’t you?”

Aether grumbles and Cirrus rolls her eyes but both of them would never step down from a challenge set forth by the curvy ghoulette. After all they know exactly how good she’ll be to them if they accomplish their task.

The rest of the movie proves unsatisfactory and torturously slow but as soon as the screen goes black and the credits roll, Aether drags Cumulus on top of him while Cirrus pounces on them both for a kiss.

Hours later, Cumulus’ tea is undrinkable.

#nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #aether ghoul

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ajs-bookmark · 3 months

Text

guess who fucking finished EPISODE SIX

that’s right it’s meeee

okok my thoughts: SPOILERS AHEAD

IRIS MESSAGING OH MY GODS ITS SO COOL ITS SO FREAKINGG COOOOLLLL! !!!! like ARGGGG its like a really badly connected facetime i love it.

omgs luke “HOW DO YOU KNOW😳😳” that’s some interesting foreshadowing there uncle rick

CLARISSEEEEEEEEEEEE HAHAHAHAH I FORGOT ABOUT THAT PART IN THE BOOKS

“compared to the chimera on monday and medusa on sunday” percy’s so real for that idc. icon.

WHEN DID YOU TWO START ACTING LIKE AN OLD MARRIED COUPLE LMAOAOAOAOA how did luke know. mans knew from the very beginning

animals running amok in las vegas💀

i’m guessing the one with the giant lotus blossom on it annabeth, queen of calling out percy’s bullshit

LEVITATING IS PERFECT (not as perfect as poker face but still pretty good)

the graphic novel. counts. my bro ain’t wrong. the graphic novels count

THEY FIGURED IT OUT SO SOON IM SO PROUD OF THEM

I MAYBE SAW BIANCAS HAT like i saw in the background a girl with a green floppy hat ??? bianca is that you ???

are augustus and ferdinand gay ????

if i tell you something will you promise not to make fun of me and annabeths lil “dude” like percy ofc she’s going to make fun of you

IS THAT NICO INTHE RED JACKEF I SEE HIM I SEE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM HES SO AWWWWW AW AW AW AW AW I LOVD YOU

^^^^my actual reaction as a saw a lil short kid with black hair wearing a red jacket

LIN MANUEL MIRANDA HAPPY BIRTHDAY FATHER

youre a really good guesser. lmao percy he’s a god😭😭

luke changes everything. like he always does.

poor bb looks so sad about his son :( i can tell he wants to go back and fix everything

i remember JUST FINE. GO QUEEN GO. LIKE YES YOU DO, TELL THE BITCHY GOD

and i feel a lot better about having stolen his keys. exactly !! wait what. this whole scene was so perfectly their dynamic

HAHAHAHAHHA PERCY DRIVING A CAR IVE NEVER LAUGHED HARDER HOLY HADES

imagine your first driving lesson being saving the world i think i would kms

HELP HIM HITTING THE WALL IM DEAD

grover getting his memory back is so cute 🥰🥰🥰

yes king go meet ur dad even though he’s not there

PREPARE FOR WAR OMGS WHAT …. i was NIT expecting that

this is not your fault. you are brave. you are strong. you made your father proud. me when the daddy issues kick in and i almost started crying

HEY NOW. THEY ONLY GAVE HIM THREE IN THE BOOKS. RESPECTFULLY, WHY DOES SALLY JACKSON GET TO LIVE INSTANTLY WHY IS THERE NOT A STRUGGLE !!! THATS PERCYS WHOLE REASON FOR BEING PISSED

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8aji · 1 year

Note

We need to hear your shin hc!!!! What you write abt him it’s always so good >_<

a glimpse of a relationship with shinichiro sano...

a/n. very self-indulgent + i went all in with these TT i got so excited and im sorry it took me so long to post !! i wanted to perfect them as best as i could !! i had so much fun writing em as well and im so down to do more of these ngl. a part of me thinks i should do a more neutral layout for my fics or hcs as well LMFAO BUT ANYWAY !! i hope yall enjoy :D

Loves it whenever you ask for his help to put sunblock on your back; it's a way to show he cares + a mild form of intimacy. Will literally melt when you help him do so in return; borderline squealing, he loves the feeling of your hands against his skin.

Learns your skin care (+ makeup) routine down to a T. He’ll hand you your serums and moisturiser and any other product that you use all in perfect order while he does his own routine — the one you designed and he enthusiastically learned.

On that same note, he loves it when you help him do his skincare. It relaxes him to feel you lather his face with moisturiser and serums and sunscreen and whatever really. He can't help but hum in satisfaction and close his eyes as if he could fall asleep with him standing up between your legs while you sit on the bathroom counter

Loves when you curl his lashes. Ik a lot of people don't think much of it but for me curling someone's lashes requires a lot of trust and can be a very intimate moment between people. Youre letting someone else get up close and personal to you and use smth that looks like a torture device close to your eye. But anyway, he loves the way you hold his face in place, gently yet firmly before using the curling thingy; is amazed by the result as well, princess lashes look pretty on him — I think he's got fairly short lashes ngl

I think he loves being taken care of because he’s used to always taking care of people. Of course this doesn’t mean he doesn’t like taking care of you. This mf ADORES doting on you. Will literally go above and beyond to make you happy and fulfil any sort of need you have. One of his love languages is definitely acts of service.

Whenever you are too sleepy/drunk he’ll wipe your makeup off and do a fast version of your skincare. He knows it's important to you so he’s happy to help. Plus, he’ll gladly play along to your booze induced rambling. He still blushes at the memory of you drunkenly mumbling about ‘asking him to marry you someday’

Whenever you buy a bag of gummy bears, he eats the gummy flavours you don’t like. I think it’s cute. You don’t like the blue gummy bears? he’ll happily eat those without a complaint. And whenever he grabs your fave flavour by mistake, he’ll just put it back without you noticing

Always, and I mean ALWAYS, enthusiastically agrees to go to the store with you. Even if you’re just going to a corner store to buy a bag of chips. He’ll go where you like tbh, as long as he’s with you

On that note, he loves going shopping with you. Idc what anyone says, Shin is the perfect designated bag carrier. Is happy to follow you into any store and look at as many things you want. The only “downside” is he genuinely thinks everything looks amazing on you so if you are indecisive or want an unbiased opinion he isn’t your guy; in those situations he just nods because you’re so pretty, you should get anything you want.

Will blush if you take him underwear shopping. Still follows you inside and gives his opinions when asked, even if they consist of ‘I think you look really pretty in both :)’ while he sports a blush and a lovesick smile.

Aside from the designated bag carrier, he’s also designated swatch palette. Perfume? Makeup? Skincare? Wall paint? He offers his arm any time you want to try anything. Its a very endearing sight tbh, Shinichiro with a thousand lipstick stripes on his forearm with his hand in yours.

Even in cute family outings with his siblings and you, he’ll be the one to carry your bags. And the breathing swatching palette act is even more adorable when you have a grown ass man following his s/o and little sister around a makeup/skincare store so they can use him as a canvas. At least his enthusiasm makes up for Mikey’s bored groans and disgust over dramatic complaints whenever he sees the two of you kiss or hold hands.

Shin doesn’t care tho, he is and will always be a hand holding enthusiast. Sometimes he even swings your interlocked hands back and forth to make the two of you giggle. He can’t help it that he loves how your fingers fit so nicely against his; he likes having you close whenever possible.

I was at the beach while writing this so forgive my biases but — one of his fave things about summer is going to the beach with his friends and then falling asleep on top of you after swimming in the sea. The two of you are still in your wet swimsuits, hair dripping with salt water and enjoying the feeling of the water droplets cooling the skin of your chest and arms after being exposed to sun. His cheeks are smushed against you, forming a pout on his lips while he hugs your torso; bonus points if you brush your fingers through his hair while he drifts off, smiling at you and your friends chatter.

He is a bitch for getting called pretty.; gets all smiley n sometimes shy. Won’t outwardly ask for you to compliment him but is a sucker for those. It doesn’t even have to be about his physical appearance, although those def have a positive impact on his self-esteem. It makes him feel appreciated in a way.

So the way he shows his love is through quality time and acts of service, but he likes receiving words through words of affirmation, touch and quality time — IMO, ME THINKS

And like everything in life, a lot of my hcs are up for change BECAUSE i'm indecisive <3

#shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro headcanons #shinichiro hcs #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers hcs #tr hcs #tokyo revengers fluff #shinichiro sano fluff

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